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Mango gingerly takes a seat next to his adoptive son to have his “face drawn” on by Second. He has little to no idea what that entails, but the young adult looked rather animated when mentioning this to the retired king. So much so that Mango found himself accepting the offer and making the trek to Alan’s computer. Mango fidgets in the messily drawn chair as Second quickly scribbles out a face for the old man. Oddly enough, she felt light strokes on the top of her head as well.
Mango’s new eyebrows raise as his reflection frowned back at him. Thick, bushy strips above his half-opened eyes, scrubbily colored in with black pen. He also noted a simple stubble across his “jaw” He looked rather grumpy, which Mango found both amusement and sorrow in, knowing now that this is how Second viewed him. But… all of that was nothing compared to what was now perched upon his head.
A crown.
Lined with thicker black lines and colored in with white, a crown. That is what upset him the most. Her stomach sinks at the sight of it, is this really how Second still sees her? As the cold dictator, he used to be? Mango’s frown deepens with guilt as he realizes this. The worst part was he couldn’t even blame them for this, he caused so much anguish during his rein on the throne, nearly wiping out thousands of innocent lives.
He heaves a sigh and crosses his arms. Without realizing it, he’s started to tap his foot on the ground repeatedly, as if waiting for something. Just his automatic response to stress of any kind, really. He glances over at Purple, and it doesn’t seem like he’s having that great of a time either.
Second looks to have drawn out quite the wimpy-looking expression on Purple's complexion. Big, wet eyes with a quivering lip to really sell the feeble look. In response to seeing her reflection, Purple predictably bursts into tears. Though it’s uncharacteristic of Purple to cry so abruptly, it’s bound to happen when your eyes are already welled up with tears. Still, Mango’s expression noticeably softens, leaning over to gently rub her back.
Mango does not pay much attention when Second lowers its arms– having raised them in enthusiasm once it had finished drawing for the pair, one hand now scratching its own head. They appear understandably concerned, as well as a tinge of remorse for upsetting their friends so much. The hollow head turns towards the creak of Green’s chair as he spinds around to face them. Green shakes his head and clicks his tongue as if disappointed. The emerald stick figure points at the two rather distraught guests and places his hands on both ends of his mouth, stretching it into an open-mouthed smile.
Second nods in understanding, and turns to Mango to fix their mistake. It swiftly erases the frown that previously adorned the older man’s face, replacing it with a modest, but genuine, smile.
Mango looks pleased by this, removing the crown that once embellished his head. She happily looks over at Purple, who tearfully lifts his head at Second. In the blink of an eye, his weeping expression is replaced with a content, relaxed grin. Purple’s complexion is now much more mellow, and to top it off, Second doodled a darling flower necklace around his neck. Purple holds back tears seeing it, springing into the air with a spin of glee and speeding off to show the others.
Mango beams at the sight of his son so happy, taking another look at himself in the mirror. It’s silly, he thinks, but it really does feel like him. The too-thick eyebrows, small smile, and even smaller eyes suit him. She’s content with this, she decides, leaning back in her chair as she places the mirror back into her lap and sighs again.
This time, it’s a sigh of content.