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As Skizz descended the stairs to his base, rattling and chaos perked his ears up. His glide slowed until his feet touched the steps, wings folding behind him cautiously. His steps were slow, turning his head slightly so his ears faced the sound, trying to decipher anything from the absolute ruckus happening on the other side.
What he saw, he for sure did not expect.
Most of his items and chests and stuff were thrown around the room, a complete mess that only grew. His eyes drew to the only stillness in the room, a small body of black and orange with white on its face. A red panda, he blinked. In the softness of it, he still noticed the darkened tips, faint lines of smoke emerging.
Then a crash shook him out of his awe, in time to see a chest toppling over, items spilling out onto the floor.
Two bodies dashed to the spilled contents, nosing through it, their snouts pushing the items around like they were looking for something. The first red panda lazily got off its butt, walking over to the pile to paw at the items too, an empty bottle rolling and bumping into the other red panda who looked to be about the same size.
Skizz jumped a little when the ‘attacked’ red panda leaped to the first, which was the moment he noticed the green streak that ran down its forehead and swirled on its ringed-tail from the base to the tip.
The pair tussled as the remaining red panda, seemingly bigger than the other two, continued to nose the items, inching closer to the chest as it did.
In his baffled state, Skizz stood frozen, simply watching the chaos unfolding in his base. The cuteness almost made him numb to the mess, almost but not quite, though it would take a while longer until he snapped out of it.
And he did, eventually.
When the bigger red panda, who had a slight limp and a couple scars throughout its body, walked closer to the chest, face practically buried inside it, the scuffling duo rolled over and pushed it.
The chest tipped over again, falling over the creature.
The room suddenly fell into silence like all sound was sucked out of it. The pair stared at the chest, expectantly, but nothing happened. Nothing aside from some muffled cries and the chest shuffling a little.
Skizz was finally acknowledged, which was frankly ridiculous because this was his base.
Either way, pushing the disbelief aside, he made his way over with slow steps. And every step, they watched, eyes on him at all points until he was beside the chest. He knelt, placing a palm on top, and the chest immediately stopped moving, a quiet little cry almost vibrating on his palm.
“It’s alright, buddy,” he said softly, near hesitantly as his other hand pressed the opposite side of the chest. Wearily, fearing an attack, he lifted the chest away from himself, enough so the red panda could stick its snout out. Then little by little, he lifted it until the animal got out, though it stayed close. When it looked back at him, it had a wide smile and bright eyes, gratefulness in its otherwise very animalistic face. “Uh, you’re welcome…?”
The red panda hopped over, climbing onto his lap, pawing at his clothes and muscles, sniffing his face and neck and clothes.
Skizz laughed, tickled by the soft fur and slightly wet nose, “Alright, alright, buddy, I mean good, I promise.”
As the red panda climbed around him, he lifted his arm, letting it walk from his forearm to his arm and behind his shoulders, free to explore and nose at his wings. The other two trudged over, the burned one inching closer without fear while the striped one hung back. It got low, chin resting on the ground with both front paws on either side, body tight with its tail thumping behind.
He looked down when a paw pressed on his knee, claws lightly digging into flesh. Even then, despite the subtle pain, he knew it was friendly.
Teasing, almost.
“You look awfully familiar,” he mused, reaching a hand to stroke its head. It pushed into his palm, almost smirking at him. But Skizz decided that he was seeing things. “What’s all this anyways? Were you three hungry or somethin’? Made a mess of my base!”
Of course, the creatures did not reply aside from making some cute sharp sounds, which had Skizz shaking his head.
“Alright, alright, jeez,” he huffed as the trio made a competition of who was louder. “Are y’all someone’s pets? Why are y’all here?”
Despite his questions being in the air, he was expecting someone to jump out and scream surprise for the prank. Whatever this prank was, anyways. But the seconds ticked and there was nothing, though he was doubtful what the prank would be anyways. Release some wild animals on his base and see what happened?
Regardless, when he made the motion to stand up, the red pandas near him jumped away, regrouping with the other one. He eyed them, watching them sniff each other, pushing their snouts into each other, even more play fights.
“Uh, well, I need to have lunch. And… then I have to clean up. So, uh, you can stay over if you want…? I don’t know, man, just…” He exhaled, shaking his head. The trio looked among themselves then back at him, expectantly like he had the answers to his own questions. He could not read minds, so he ignored it. “Do you have names? Probably. I’ll give you new names, how ‘bout that? So we’re not strangers. I’m Skizz. And… And you will be Smokey. And Stripes. And… S… car? Scar?”
The trio, once again, looked at each other then back at him, almost unamused.
“Oh, right. That’s Scar’s name. Maybe another. Uh…”
As he thought it over, Skizz walked off, the trio following him.
While he prepared lunch, the trio lazed around in a pile, hitting and biting each other’s tails and cuddling. It was cute, very cute. Skizz could see and admitted it was, though he could not shake the oddness he felt over it.
It was the moment he put three plates down with some steaks and carrots that it occurred to him that he did not know what red pandas ate. Yet, just as he made up his mind to take the plates away, Stripes jumped and snatched up the steak, happily tearing it apart with its teeth. Smokes tore into the steak too while Not-Scar went for the carrots.
He watched them eat for a second before taking a seat to eat. Despite his hunger, his appetite was not present, mind constantly drifting off to watch the trio. By all means, they were animals. They looked like animals and acted like such, but as far as he knew, there were no red pandas on the server.
Vaguely, he recalled Joel’s tanukis. But that was a tanuki, and these were red pandas. There was no mistaking them. Unless the prank was that they somehow managed to change the tanukis into red pandas, then he still did not understand the prank.
His lunch went cold as he bounced his fork between his fingers, and by the time he became aware, the trio was already on the table, taking their share of his untouched food.
Stripes had the steak in its teeth, shaking it while Not-Scar munched on carrots. Smokey just sat on the side, pawing at the knife and plate, occasionally swatting Stripes.
Skizz kicked back on his seat, balancing on the back two legs as he pulled his communicator out, thinking that he had missed some message or announcement. He thought about flying over to ask around, but he did not want to leave them free-range of his base again. In his presence, they seemed to be uninterested in causing chaos, so he stayed.
Although there was no missed message, he did miss Jimmy joining.
<Skizzleman> jiggles!!
<Skizzelman> buddy :D
<SolidarityGaming> SKIZZ!!!!
Just as he was going to reply, the comms flew from his hands, a stinging feeling bursting in the back of his hands. He hissed as the comms shattered, clutching his hand. He sucked a breath in before checking, seeing three red lines running diagonal.
Behind his hand, Stripes stood, almost surprised with its own strength, paw still mid-air. The other two stared, also shocked before jumping into action. Smokey growled at him while Not-Scar pushed him back, Smokey inching closer, head down to appear harmless.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he waved his other hand as Smokey sniffed his wrist, careful to not touch the injury. The stinging dissipated shortly after, leaving only the physical marks behind. He opened and closed his palm, entranced on the thin trails of blood. “See? All goods here.”
Smokey stared at the cuts then up at him, brow slightly furrowed. It looked back at the other two, Skizz following his gaze too.
Not-Scar seemed to be scolding Stripes, all squeaks and huffs. Meanwhile, Stripes was back to being a loaf like a cat, except it had buried its snout and face in its tail. The scene was adorable, but Skizz felt a little bad.
“C’mon, it’s all fine.” Skizz put on a smile, pinching a carrot with his uninjured hand, offering it to Not-Scar. Smokey hissed, but he lightly pushed its head down, smirking when it snarled at him. He chuckled when Smokey huffed away. “Alright, c’mon, lil’ guy. Let Stripes be.”
After another second, Not-Scar finally relented, waddling over to sit on its butt, happily munching on the offered carrot. Smokey walked over to Stripes, pushing its head into it until it peeked up, burying its head back soon after.
Before Skizz could help them sort it out, a couple rockets exploding stole his attention. He turned to the door, pushing the chair back to greet the visitors. As he walked away, he spared the occasional glance back, yet the trio remained on the table, entertained doing nothing but laze about.
“Skizz!”
He startled before recognizing the voice, perking up with a smile and puffed up wings. His arms flew up in time to catch a falling Jimmy, embracing him in a tight hug. They screamed and trilled, filling the space with deafening joy, feathers falling around them.
A minute later, they finally let go, wide smiles plastered on their faces.
“Been a while!”
“Been a while!” Jimmy repeated with a laugh. “Oh! Yeah, Etho’s here too!”
Both of them looked up at the stairs, seeing Etho half-way down them, a horrified expression surpassing the covering of his mask.
“I don’t think I want to go there…” Etho squinted, taking a hesitant step back.
“It’s– Oh! You should, there’s some little guys back there! Come and see!”
Skizz tugged Jimmy along, not waiting for Etho’s response. When they practically burst into the room, the trio startled, Not-Scar falling off the table and Stripes jumping in front of Smokey, snarling before relaxing. The pair exchanged looks before jumping off the table, walking over.
“Oh my gosh! Look at them!” Jimmy squealed, throwing himself to the ground to welcome them.
Skizz laughed, raising a brow when Stripes overtook Smokey, leaping into Jimmy’s lap. Before Jimmy could wrap his arms around it, Stripes climbed his chest, behind his shoulders, head then jumped up high. Instinctively, both tried to throw themselves to catch it only to crash into each other.
And Stripes safe, clinging onto the front of Etho’s shirt.
“Hi,” Etho greeted, raising a hand to support it. Stripes continued to climb, settling on Etho’s shoulder happily. Stripes nuzzled into his face with a cute, little squeak.
“Oh,” Jimmy let out with a wash of disappointment at the realization. “Hi, Joel. Good to see you too.”
Stripes snickered.
Skizz and Jimmy pushed themselves up, frazzled. Before Skizz could question, Jimmy’s attention was drawn away, another sharp squeal coming from him as he finally got his hug.
Smokey cuddled up in Jimmy’s arms.
“Tango! Look at you! You’re adorable!”
“Tango…?”
Jimmy looked at him, his bright smile softening around the corners, head tilted slightly at his confusion. Luckily, though, Skizz did not have to question further as Jimmy got the hint of his unknowing.
Jimmy waved his hand, “A glitch. They should be back to normal later today. A shame, though.”
Skizz blinked, then turned to Etho for more details. After all, he did end up missing some announcements probably. He would have to check later when he got his new communicator.
“Uh, Joel wanted to spawn more tanukis.” Etho started, turning slightly to push his cheek against red-panda-Joel, who pushed back. “And it went wrong. Tango and Scar are, uh, were just collateral. Shouldn’t have messed around while Xisuma was dealing with codes.”
“Oh.”
“Didn’t get the memo?”
Instead of replying, Skizz gestured to the pile of components near the wall with his head. Etho followed, brow furrowing in confusion.
“Joel.”
Etho nodded, “Joel.”
“Then,” Jimmy interrupted as Tango nested in his legs, “where’s Scar? Did he leave already? Aw.”
“No, he should…” Skizz turned to the table, but found it empty. Even between the legs, and further hiding spots, it was empty.
As Scar scampered from Skizz’s bases to his own, he could not erase the images in his mind. The way Etho caught Joel with ease, the welcoming embrace of Jimmy towards Tango. He knew, deeply and shallowly, that the soulbound had not truly been broken as Grian had reassured.
It had been a while since Double Life.
He shook his head.
He picked up speed, the grass soft on his paws and the sun warm on his fur. Grass and petals and pollen hovered in the sky, lifted as he ran, sticking to his face and fur, and it was a lovely day. The breeze cool, the world warm.
Regardless, he was in a rush to get somewhere. Anywhere. His base, preferably, where he could hide and wait the rest of the transformation alone.
Away from the other soulbounds. Maybe he could find Grian and watch him from afar, see if Grian would notice him like the others did their soulmates.
It would be nice if Grian did. Reassuring, even.
But no harm if not.
That was how things were sometimes.
It was fine.
Really.
“Oh goodness me! Scar? Scar!”
Although his head spun, the voice was enough to anchor him down. He shook his head, kernels and bits of leaves from wheat flying off. Then a laugh, loud and jolly, then a shadow casted over him. He looked up to see Mumbo looking down at him, smiling yet intrigued.
“Ran right into the hay bales,” Mumbo explained before crouching down. “Quite the impact, mate. You alright? Need food?”
Scar opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as he dashed to Mumbo's leg, climbing up his thigh then arm, settling on his shoulder like Joel did with Etho. And he waited.
Mumbo stayed still for a second, processing the situation before laughing. “Sure, sure, I'll be your taxi. Didn't have plans today or anything!”
Despite the slight sarcasm in his voice, Mumbo was warm and friendly, and Scar could not stop himself from clinging to him. Claws digging into his dress shirt as the ground got away from him, high enough to finally see the patch of wheat he had run through.
“No flying then,” Mumbo mused to himself, pinching his chin in momentary thought. “I, uh, I guess I'll walk. Right? Yeah. Yeah! That's, that's it, all I can do. Walk. I could boat. Scar, do you want to row a boat? Can you row a boat? Wait, hang on. Let's try that out.”
As Mumbo placed down a crafting table, throwing some planks into the grid, Scar found himself easing up. At least Mumbo wanted to spend time together.