Chapter Text
Mumbo didn’t mean to kill Grian.
Honestly, how was he supposed to know that the soul extraction process would result in his death? It was completely accidental. People should be able to live without their souls! Mumbo had been doing just fine without one, after all!
Well, perhaps not “just fine”; he was a vampire, after all.
And, sure, Grian hadn’t actually said he was okay with giving up his soul, either; quite the opposite, really. But Mumbo was so sure that all he needed to cure his… condition, was to have a soul again. And he was also so sure his best friend would survive the process. Certainly they’d find themselves on the other end, unharmed, better than before, and Grian would realize it really was for the best to give up his soul.
Granted, Mumbo had built the machine himself, it had never been tested, and there really was no reason at all to expect a human to survive something best described as being “juiced”, but weirder things than that had happened!
Unfortunately, the whole ordeal failed spectacularly in every sense of the word. Grian had died, Mumbo was still a vampire, and now he was haunted by a very, very annoyed ghost.
But honestly! It was an accident. A bad one, yes; a stupid one, for sure. But you would think a couple hundred years would be enough time to get over it.
Apparently not. Grian still found just as much enjoyment in making Mumbo’s life difficult now as he had in the month immediately following his demise.
Which is why, when the vampire got hit in the head by a spoon one morning while drinking his breakfast smoothie, he didn’t even flinch.
“It’s strawberry,” he said in lieu of reacting. “Honestly. It’s pink.”
A sigh came from his left, and in the corner of his eye Mumbo could see a translucent form shimmer into existence at the end of the table. “I know,” the ghost said, head resting on his hand. “You’re so boring.”
Mumbo took another sip of his smoothie before replying dryly, “You know, if you actually let me invite people over, you wouldn’t be so bored.”
“Great idea, let the vampire invite humans into his mansion,” Grian said, voice oozing sarcasm. “Surely nothing can go wrong. It’s not like he’s killed people before.”
“One! And it was an accident! And I don’t even need blood anymore because of it, so it would be fine! How many times do we have to have this conversation?!” Mumbo turned to face the ghost of his friend, only to catch him smirking.
“As many times as you still react like this,” Grian chuckled, then tossed another spoon that hit Mumbo right in the forehead.
“My head’s basically a rock at this point, you may as well give up.” The vampire rolled his eyes as he moved to collect the scattered silverware. “Where do you even get all these spoons?”
Grian disappeared from his spot at the table, only to appear sitting on the counter, legs blocking the drawer the silverware should go in. “They just materialize around you because you’re such a spoon yourself,” he quipped.
Mumbo just sighed. “Please move.”
“Why?” The ghost tilted his head.
“Grian.”
“Give me a good reason.”
Mumbo fixed him with a very unimpressed look, but Grian only stared back until he gave in, annoyance lacing his tone. “I need to put these away.”
“I don’t see why I’m stopping you,” Grian countered easily. “I’m a ghost. I’m not blocking you.”
Stamping down his frustration, Mumbo resigned himself to setting the spoons down on the counter instead, only for Grian to immediately pick one up and throw it at him again.
“You’re impossible,” Mumbo sighed.
“Aw, you love me,” Grian teased. “Even if you killed me.”
“I’m not even going to apologize anymore. You deserve it at this point.”
“Wow, rude. And here I am, taking time out of my very busy day to keep you company.”
“Mm, yes. So busy. Better hurry along, don’t want to be late to your appointment with ‘breaking the hall lights’ again.”
“Well, you know how it—“
A distant knock cut the conversation short, and the two exchanged confused glances.
“I didn’t invite anyone,” Mumbo defended himself.
Grian only rolled his eyes, disappearing from the counter to appear a few moments later in the kitchen doorway. “Want me to check it out?”
“No!” Mumbo immediately rushed to the doorway, stopping only when he would have to go through Grian to go any further. “I can check, it’s fine.”
Tilting his head, Grian asked innocently, “Why can’t I? They wouldn’t even see me. It might be someone you don’t want to talk to. If you answer it, they’d know you’re here, but if I did….”
“Yes, well, it could also be someone I do want to talk to, and you would scare them away because of that.”
Grian responded with an exaggerated offended gasp. “I can’t believe you would accuse me of that, Mumbolio.”
Another knock rang out, interrupting the exchange before Mumbo could make a retort. Instead, he sighed. “Please let me through.”
“I’m not in your way.” Grian smiled, crossing his arms and making sure to stay in the center of the doorway.
Mumbo mirrored him, crossing his arms and staring down at his friend. “I’m not walking through you.”
“Guess you’re stuck here then.”
They held eye contact, battling mentally to see who would give in first, for nearly a minute before another knock had them both turning in the direction of the front door.
“Oh, for goodness sake, Grian, just let me through!”
Grian stuck out his tongue, but disappeared. “I’m not giving in, I’m just curious,” he said tartly, his voice now disembodied as Mumbo hurried to the door.
He hesitated, hand hovering above the door knob, and Grian’s voice sighed in his ears. “Seriously, Mumbo, you make this whole deal about me not checking, then you stand there like a- look, I can see him. Don’t recognize him. Tall, not as tall as you, brown hair, red outfit. Sound familiar?”
The vampire blinked. “N- no? That’s the vaguest description ever, how would that sound familiar?”
Grian materialized next to Mumbo, arms still crossed. “I don’t know; why is someone outside your door if you don’t know them?”
To this, Mumbo just rolled his eyes and opened the door before he could hesitate any more.
The man on the other side straightened as he did, immediately flashing a large grin. “Hello there!”
Mumbo found that the first thing he noticed was absolutely nothing that Grian had mentioned, but instead was the large red top hat the man was wearing. Granted, his height did put him in a better position to see it than Grian, but it was large enough that really Grian should have found it notable anyway. He cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down from the hat to the man himself. “Hello?”
“Nice sunny day today, huh?” The man kept his grin as he spoke. “Glad your porch is covered; nice as the weather is, man it gets hot out here!”
Grian gave a forced cough next to him, and Mumbo resisted the urge to glance over. “Er… who are you?”
“Oh, of course, where are my manners?” The man chuckled, removing his hat and stepping back to give a sweeping bow with it, his other hand resting on top of a cane. “Scar Goodtimes, at your service!”
Mumbo stared blankly. “And… what, exactly, might that service be?”
Scar straightened, completely unfazed by Mumbo’s tone as he continued to grin. He secured his hat back onto his head before answering. “Well, I am a traveling salesman, of course! Lots of interesting trinkets for sale. Could I interest you in a few? You’re welcome to peruse my collection at your leisure. Now, I don’t have everything on me; if none of these pique your interest I would gladly get some others to—"
“I’m good, thanks,” Mumbo interrupted, frowning as the apparent salesman fumbled with a briefcase, attempting to open it without a table to set it on.
Scar looked up from the case in surprise. “Oh! Not a problem, not a problem; most people are. But! You could be better than good, you know? I’m sure you’re doing perfectly fine now, but you can be doin’ amayzin’ with just a little— here, just let me get this case open and I can show you some of the crystals I’ve got—“
“I’m really not interested in buying anything, mate.”
Scar blinked, mouth slightly open and brow furrowed, but Mumbo was quickly distracted by Grian cheering from his once-again translucent form next to the door. “That’s right, Jumbo, send him away! No humans allowed.”
And Mumbo was seconds away from responding, never mind that this new person would think he’s crazy for talking to no one, before he was thankfully saved by Scar finally finding the words he’d been searching for. “Well,” he said, flourishing his cane with one hand and the other resting on the porch railing, “I offer much more than just crystals and trinkets! In fact, a common service for me to offer is home inspection!”
“No,” Grian snapped immediately, before Mumbo even processed the question.
It took a good half a minute for Mumbo to get out his own, “...Sorry?”
“Home inspection!” Scar chirped. “I know a bit about architecture, a bit about the supernatural, I can cover all the barriers! Wait. Bases. All the bases. Right! And for you, I can even do the first one free! Just a quick look around, you could even point out if there’s anything you’re worried about, and I can figure out exactly what needs to be taken care of.”
Grian glared directly at Mumbo. “Absolutely not.”
“Hmm,” Mumbo said instead, causing Grian’s eyes to widen.
“You’re joking,” the ghost said. “You’re a vampire. You can’t just let random people into your mansion, especially not if they claim to know anything about the supernatural!”
But, well, maybe if Grian didn’t want Mumbo to let someone in, he should have considered not annoying Mumbo all morning. “Sure.”
Scar looked as shocked as Grian did, but while Grian’s changed to a scowl, Scar’s changed to a grin. “Great! Where should we start, then?”
Mumbo stepped further inside and opened the door. “Well, now that you bring it up, I do have a problem with the hall light upstairs. Every time I put a new light in, it explodes. Weird, isn’t it?”
“I’m getting the spoons.”
Truthfully, it was only after Mumbo had let the salesman into his manor that he realized that maybe Grian had a point, but he certainly wasn’t going to admit that now. More than likely this guy was nothing more than a scammer who would make up a few stories that sounded impressive and try to sell some bogus cure at the end of the “inspection.” Worst case scenario… well, surely it couldn’t be that hard to kill someone, right? He had already done it once, after all.