Work Text:
Grian was many things, and he knew many things. He was a Player, former Admin, the creator of TNT run, and a Watcher. He knew code, a whole plethora of pranks and traps, and he knew he hated wearing blue, and he hated his name being pronounced wrong.
The whole grain joke was fun and all, but it irked him. He hated his name being pronounced wrong. He knew where it stemmed from. Sam. That damn rabbit.
Sam, who never said his name right. Sam who called him the wrong name. Sam, who took his name from him and stomped on it, twisted it to something even Grian was unsure was his.
The Watchers gave him a new name. One that was his. Xelqua. It was in Galactic, difficult to say in English. But that was ok. If no one knew it, no one could say it wrong. He was still Grian, but he was also Xelqua. One and the same.
Grian was talking with Mumbo in a mine as the two of them dug, gathering resources. A voice carried down to them. “Ooo, an apple!” Scar’s voice.
“Hey! That’s my apple!” Grian yelled, flapping his wings to boost him back up the mine.
He landed, looking at the man. When Scar spoke next, Grian froze. “Hey Graylin.” Scar said.
“What… what did you just call me?” Grian asked, voice shaking, wings puffing up slightly.
He could hear a laughing voice. The Secret Keeper was chuckling in his ears, but it was slowly being blocked out by another laugh. A laugh he never wanted to hear again. “I called you Graylin.” Scar responded, still holding the apple.
“Do not call me that.” Grian snapped.
Mumbo raised a brow at him, clearly confused by his friend’s outburst. Even Scar looked surprised. He shook his head a bit, a cheeky smile on his face. “Would you rather I call you, Greeon?” Scar asked.
Sam was standing in front of him, having taken Scar’s place. The grass under his shoes turned to cement, darkness surrounding him as Sam walked closer, blood dripping from his knife. The ears on his head were flopped over slightly, gravity pulling them down.
Grian backed away, his breath getting caught in his throat. “I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” he stuttered, trying to sooth Sam’s rage.
Grian’s foot caught on something and he fell, putting his hands out to stop himself as he tumbled to the ground, still facing Sam. Pain shot through his wrist and arm, but he chose to ignore it. His wings pressed tight to his body in a show of submission, trying anything to appease the rabbit in front of him. “Greeon.” Sam called in a sing song voice.
“Please… I’m sorry! I can do what you want! I’m sorry.” Grian blabbered, slipping back into Japanese, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes.
He felt something touch him. It wasn’t cold metal. It was warm, fleshy. Grian looked at the hand now holding his shoulder. The arm it was connecting to wasn’t supposed to be there. The arm wore a suit. Sam never wore a suit. The only people who did were part of the Yakuza.
He blinked, clearing his eyes of some tears. The ground under himself became apparent. It wasn’t concrete. Soft grass was under his fingers, its blades brushing against his skin. The sky was bright with the sun, no buildings in sight, only trees. He looked around and his eyes landed on Mumbo and Scar, the two of them crouched in front of him, concerned looks on their faces.
“You with us dude?” Mumbo asked him, voice soft but dripping with concern.
Grian didn’t trust his words so he simply nodded. That response was enough for the two and they visibly relaxed a bit. Mumbo let go of his shoulder and sat back on his heels, looking at Grian. Scar was crouched somewhat behind him, guilt on his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out of anything.” The man said, fidgeting with his hands.
Grian took a breath, steeling his nerves. His wings relaxed slightly, draping across his back with ease. “It’s not your fault…” he said after a moment, voice small and shaky.
He briefly heard a laugh, echoing in his head. He squeezed his eyes closed and covered his ears in an attempt to keep the voice away. He felt a cold and solid presence over his shoulders. It was stone. The Secret Keeper. Un seen by the other two, but Grian knew she was there, gently covering him with her large stone wings, protecting him. The voice was silenced in an instant.
He opened his eyes again, a brief flash of purple crossing them. Mumbo and Scar didn’t mention it. He looked at the two of them, slowly uncurling his body. Mumbo cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it?” The redstoner asked.
“I just- I don’t really like being called anything but Grian…” the avian said, wings pressing against his body.
“Oh G. You could have just told us…” Mumbo spoke.
“Yeah it would make my task hard, but your comfort is more important.” Scar said.
Grian raised a brow at the man. Scar didn’t exactly say his task, but it was close. Grian chuckled, feeling the Secret Keeper roll her eyes under her stone mask. Things would be ok.