Work Text:
The outer edges of Cobigail's Clearing were thick with brambles. Intertwining, thorny branches, choking off her cornfield. Overgrown due to decades of neglect.
"Oh, honeysuckle." The god of the harvest groused, "how did I ever let it get this bad?"
She looked down at her two guests, only getting a meager shrug from the Godpoke, while Hector continued to observe the situation for a few more silent moments before letting out a soft sigh.
He knew exactly why Cobigail had let her realm become so unkempt, and he was met with the sting of guilt that he had only contributed to it in his last few years of godhood. But that was why he was here. One way to make amends.
He looked behind them at the farming tools that the citizens of Milldread had so graciously lent them; a wheelbarrow, two shovels, gloves, several buckets, along with various cutting tools. Comparing the tiny mortal implements to the huge plants before them, Hector briefly regretted not accepting their offers to join in on the clean up efforts. Maybe it was his guilt wanting him to suffer a bit under such a workload.
But he wasn't doing this completely alone, Godpoke had volunteered to help out as well once They had delivered Cobigail's invitation. And the messenger of the gods was proven to be stubborn, insisting on accompanying Hector on this task, no matter what his protest.
"I appreciate you fellas coming to help me. I guess it's more than just a little bit of pruning."
"It's no problem Cobi," he summoned a smile and looked up at her. "Pokey and me ain't afraid of some agro-culture. Best to pick a spot an get to it." He rolled up his sleeves.
Godpoke held Megapon up, "Let's get ready to rumble!" The divine instrument spouted, signaling Their agreement.
Cobigail mulled over the pile of tools before selecting an axe that looked ridiculously undersized in her godly hand. Her face contorted into a wrinkle of concentration as her fingertips morphed into vines that climbed the axe handle, causing the tool to grow in size, its blade extending into a sharpened scythe. Now it was half the length of her body and certainly looked befitting of the god of the harvest. She hefted it up with her three remaining arms.
"Better stand back fellas!" She warned before giving a mighty wack, felling a swath of brambles.
A hailstorm of tiny blackberries rained down on the two mortals below.
"Oops, sorry about that." She grimaced as Godpoke brushed some berries from the rim of Their hat.
With shovel and Megapon the blackberries were scooped up and deposited into buckets as Cobigail continued hacking away more of the brambles, albeit more carefully now. Between the god's might and Megapon's efficiency, the reservations Hector had about rejecting the Milldreadites offers to help faded. In fact, he was now trying to bury feelings of inadequacy, that he didn't even need to be there.
"Huh, now what's this?" Cobigail paused her work to investigate a structure hidden within the overgrowth. It was a large rectangular object. Carefully she pulled the thorny vines away from the mystery and uncovered an old, upright piano.
"Why, it's my piano!" She exclaimed gleefully, pulling the rest of the brambles aside to fully free the instrument. "Oh, I haven't seen this old beauty in years." She gave a pause, thoughtful and sad. "I had forgotten I even had one."
Hector had frozen at the sight of it. It was familiar to him too.
Cobigail ran a hand over its surface, another hand opened the key cover.
"Let's see if the old girl still sings, shall we." She placed two hands upon the keys and ran her fingers through some practice scales.
Godpoke had braced themselves for something horribly out of tune, but was pleasantly surprised to hear a crystal clear "do, re, mi" out of it.
"Sounds just as good as the day it was manifested." She beamed, plinking and plunking the keys until a tune flowed out.
"Oh, the sun is brightly shining, and for you my heart does yearn. Why don't I be your apple, and you can be my worm?" She sang to a bouncy melody.
She stopped her playing, lost in thought. "I wonder where I remember that song from?" She asked aloud.
Hector was in fight or flight mode. He desperately wanted an excuse to leave and avoid this awkward guilt flooding his heart. But he knew he shouldn't run away. He had dedicated himself to making amends and now an opportunity had presented itself.
"It…it was our song." He stammered. "From when I used to visit yew… back when I was…" he choked on his last word, looking down, away from her face.
He felt Godpoke's hand rest on his shoulder and found himself able to take a stabilizing breath. Under the shadow of their hat, he could make out the messenger's sympathetic eyes.
"Heh, this was the reason yew insisted on coming with me, isn't it?" He deduced. Godpoke nodded. "Thanks."
Cobigail had been ruminating over his information and the memories suddenly slotted into place.
"Our song!" She exclaimed, "Oh yes, I remember. You would pop in from your God Complex and we would play hide and seek in the cornfield, and gossip on and on for hours and we would sing. We wrote that song together."
A smile played on Hector's face as he reminisced on the early years of his godhood, when Inspekta had been a naive, innocent and eager new member of the pantheon. Cobigail had taken him under her wing…leaf actually, and had shown him a fondness equal to an older sister to a younger brother. And he had felt the same for her.
"Oh, the sun is brightly shining, and for you my heart does yearn. Why don't I be your apple and you can be my worm?"
Cobigail would jauntily play while he would dance and wiggle around. He would sing back to her with the widest smile,
"Although the world's uncertain, of this I can confirm, if you will be my apple, then I will be your woim."
"Though our partnership seems silly, it's truly meant to be, for the worm turns up the soil, that feeds the apple tree."
"And the worm does love the apple tree, though it sounds absurd, for the apple is a hiding spot from the hungry bird."
"And in this situation, a friendship is assured."
"As long as you're my apple,"
"As long as you're my worm.
Well nothing lasts forever, the seasons always turn, but I'll always be your apple,"
"And I'll always be your woim." He wound his slender body around hers, pressing cheek to cheek as they sang the last lines together.
"And we'll stay together as so long the sun does burn."
"You'll still be my apple,"
"And you'll still be my worm."
The two gods laughed in merriment but were interrupted by the chime of bells.
Cobigail perked up, "Oh! It's time. Let's make sure we get a good view." They left the piano and sat at the center of the clearing. "I'm so glad you could join me for this."
He sat next to her on the ground, tapping his boots together as he searched for an effigy to observe through. Cobigail of course had the sculpture of herself in the center of town and was already channeling a portion of her omniscience through it.
There were fewer representations of the other gods in Milldread. The townsfolk tended to prioritize their native patron. And being the newest god, Inspekta was taking longer to find a good viewing spot.
"Hmm, some cray-on drawings in the classroom… cardboard cutout…" he listed out loud as he searched. He jumped up, excited, "Ooh! A kid's got one of the plushies of me da boys was selling at the fun-razor last week."
Cobigail scanned the crowd and spotted a little girl clutching an adorable Inspekta plush toy to her chest. The Bizzyboys had been selling them to raise money for various projects and had given their deity the added bonus of extra eyes around the grove.
She looked around the rest of the town square as more people gathered. Several families, dressed nicely. Children with their hair combed neatly, trying to sneak away from their parents to play with their friends. Parents chatting amongst themselves. A table near the rear of the festivities where people were placing various pot-luck dishes. One person added a tray of pies to the table, then took one smaller pie, approached Cobigail's alter and placed the dessert upon it.
The pie manifested before her in the Clearing. She picked it up and inhaled its sweet scent.
"Mmm, strawberry-rhubarb. Still hot too."
Inspeckta didn't even have to ask as she split the pie down the middle and handed him half. She knew the best treats were the ones shared with friends.
"There's nothing betta' den a fresh offering." He said with a full mouth, his blue tongue stained red.
"Being a god is a tasty affair." She agreed before chowing down on her half.
The townsfolk milled about a few moments more until the school bell rang out again and people started shuffling into the rows of chairs in front of a podium. The current town pastor, Father Dave, took a spot behind the podium and lifted his arms to signal for silence.
"Praise to Cob and welcome." He began. "Today we gather to celebrate this year's graduating class. Miss Clementine's thirteen-year-olds have all worked hard this year, earning knowledge that will shape them into upstanding citizens and productive members of society." He eyed a glasses wearing boy in the crowd with a grin before turning to the teacher. "Miss Clementine, if you will?"
A few people clapped as he stepped aside for Miss Clementine to approach the podium, holding a small box.
"As per our tradition," she began, "at the beginning of the school year our senior class harvested corn tassels from the fields. They were dried and given to their parents to be made into ceremonial headbands.
As the corn is the cornerstone of Milldread, our children are the cornerstone of our community. As I call your name, please come up and receive your tassel."
One by one she called the name of a child who approached the podium and she placed a unique headband around their heads, each one had woven to it a dangling corn tassel.
They came and left the stage with little incident, save for one boy who started having a sneezing fit the moment his headband had been placed on.
They continued until all the names had been read, then Father Dave took the podium once again.
"Congratulations to our graduates. May your futures be as fruitful as the harvest fields. Praise Cob!"
"Praise Cob!" The crowd repeated.
The assembly disbanded and soon the crowd was back to chatting, playing and gobbling down snacks.
"It's so wonderful to see the townsfolk come together for the kids like this." Cobigail sighed with delight. But a look of concern stole her expression, as if something had just occurred to her.
"There's usually a song the children sing after the tassels are given out." She rubbed her chin in thought. "I wonder why they didn't sing it this year."
"Maybe they cut it for time?" Inspekta suggested, still licking pie remnants from his fingers.
"Maybe…" she decided not to dwell on it. "I suppose it's more important that everyone's gathered for the ceremony. Just feel that comradery, that love."
She swooned, basking in the emotions of the crowd of mortals. Her leaves were looking full and bright.
"The teacher's feeling awe-full proud of her students, their parents too." Inspeckta commented, feeling the vibe of pride emanating from every townsfolk who had contributed to the childrens' success.
He had come to learn that each god was keyed into the human emotions most related to their domain. So while Cobigail was attune to the platonic love shared by a community, or Huzzle Mug was keen on inspiration, he often felt feelings of pride, devotion and ambition drift from the mass of humanity of the Grove and settle into the core of his being.
"Dat Father Dave is E-special-lee proud of his boy, Saul."
Cobigail nodded, observing Dave gushing to a set of parents about all the high grades his son had gotten, much to the embarrassment of the bespectacled boy now wearing a tassel of his own. The other family gave their congratulations, then delivered some news that caused Cobigail's radiance to fade.
"The Mayfeilds are… moving away?" She frowned. "That family's been in Milldread for generations. I watched little Billy grow up from a tiny bean and now he's leaving?"
Inspekta could see she was wilting from the sadness of losing a part of her community and he placed a hand on her shoulder. He focused on the Mayfield parents, their desires etching into his mind.
"They want Billy to continue going to school. They think moving to Buzzhuzz will give him better opportunities." He paused, knowing this next part might be painful for her to hear. "They don't want him just working on a farm for the rest of his life."
She stared at him, taking in his words, and sighed with resignation. After all, the school system in Milldread did only go up to the eighth grade. After that children either started apprenticeships or went to work on their family farms.
"I suppose that makes sense. They only want what's best for him. It'll just be so sad to see them go."
"Tell ya what," he jumped up with a grin "I'll send a couple a Bizzyboys ta town to help set up a going away party for the Mayfeilds. That way they won't forget all the friends they've got in good ol' Milldread."
Her glow returned as she grinned ear to ear. "You'll do that?" She lunged forward and gave Inspekta a huge hug with all four arms. "That's a wonderful idea! Thank you, String-bean!"
She was radiating love and he soaked it up like a sponge. She took his face in two of her hands.
"That's what we're all about; leadership and community. We go together like corn cakes and Milldreadberry jam!"
He dropped his focus on the goings on in Milldread to fully take in her praise. But if he had been paying attention, he would have noticed the sudden bloom of lavender and allium around the town.
××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
Time to a god passes differently than to a mortal. In a blink a year comes and goes. And with each passing year, another thing would vanish from Cobigail's domain. More families would move away, elder citizens would die off, fewer children were being born. Soon the tassel ceremony disappeared as the graduation song had. Traditions started falling by the wayside, no longer deemed necessary to a dwindling population. Various town folk became too preoccupied with their own lives to bother mingling with their neighbors. The crops became less plentiful. More people had to give up their farms and move to proverbial greener pastures.
Inspekta would lose track of time. A few months overseeing multiple Bizzyboy projects would slip away as easily as a few hours would be lost to a mortal playing a video game. He would still try to pay his fellow gods a visit from time to time, but as the Bizzyboy organization grew, the time between these pleasantries drifted further apart.
This fateful day he arrived in Cobigail's Clearing eager for some respite from his duties.
"Hey Cobi, I'm here!" He sing-songed. Looking around the cornfield, he wondered if she was hiding, waiting to jump out for a scare as she had so many times before. But instead he found her standing straight up in the middle of the Clearing, folded up in her leaves like an unshucked cob of corn, asleep.
He gave her a gentle poke. "Wakey, wakey, ya bestest buddy has arrived."
She unfurled herself with a yawn and stared at him vacantly. He frowned at her lack of enthusiasm to see him. She blinked a few times, finally giving a bleary smile.
"Oh, hey there, Mr. Postman. You got a letter for me? It's been so long since anyone's sent me anything." Her brief smile faded into a melancholy line.
His confusion rose. Was she still half asleep?
"I ain't the godpoke, Cobi." He tried to explain. "It's me, Inspekta!" He posed before her the way he would for visiting mortals; flashy, impressive, adorable, but she only tilted her head with a simple smile.
"Hey there stranger, what brings you here?"
The breath caught in Inspekta's throat.
He knew Cobigail enjoyed her pranks, but this felt like a cold knife to the heart.
"Oh, I see," he pouted, "jess because I haven't visited in while, yew're pretending not to know me." He huffed, slinking away to the piano and randomly plunked on some of the keys. "Honest-lee Cobi, I never taught yew could ever be so cruel."
The musical notes penetrated through the fog that had taken Cobigail's mind. She recognized him standing there brooding.
"Oh, 'Spekta, when did you get here?" He didn't answer, only stared at the keys, looking quite forlorn. She shook her head. "I, I said something wrong to you, didn't I? I'm sorry…my mind's been fuzzy lately. I've been forgetting things…" she reached for him, but he bent away from her hand.
"Did you really forget me ?" He pouted, eyes large with hurt, a quiver in his voice.
The guilt was evident on her face. "String-bean, I didn't mean to. I'd never want to hurt…" she tried reaching for him again, only to have a sudden dizzy spell and fall forward.
Many blue hands shot out to catch her.
She laid limply as he pulled her close. Two arms dangling beneath her, one hand cradling her weary head, another clutching her stomach.
"Cobi, this… this isn't funny!" The panic was rising in his voice as it clicked in his brain that this was definitely not a prank. His mind raced, trying to devise the best course of action. A good leader should be able to handle any situation with calm and grace.
And so, he resorted to desperate screaming for help.
Within seconds Miss Mitternaucht rushed in through the cornfield and into the Clearing.
"Inspekta, what's wrong dear? You're howling like a coyote at a full moon."
She spotted the fainted Cobigail in his grasp.
"Oh my stars!" She gasped, helping the wilted god back up on her roots. "Cobigail are you alright?"
Cobigail groaned and opened her eyes. She swayed, but the elder god's boney hands kept her upright.
"I think I'm okay." She slurred. "Just a little pekid is all."
"Wuzzall the hullabaloozeehollorin?" Huzzle Mug popped onto the Clearing, nearly knocking over Thespius who had arrived only seconds before It.
[Scrambling out of the field into view comes Click-clack, followed shortly by Bauhazzo. With haste the remaining gods arrive on the scene to assess this urgent affair!]
"Our dearest Cobigail appears to be ailing." Mitternaucht explained.
Thespius approached, helping to steady Cobigail into a seated position.
"Let's take a load off, darling." He said as he took one of her hands in his. Deep concern was on his features.
As the other gods drew close to check on Cobigail's wellbeing, Inspekta finally found his words.
"W, What's wrong with her?" He asked, two of his hands fiddling with one another.
"Cobigail's domain is weakening, it is." Bauhazzo stated solemnly. "The people of Milldread are neglecting their traditions."
"And not replacecreating any new tranditionalities to bring unitetogther either." Huzzle Mug interjected.
"My sibling is correct, It is." Bauhazzo continued, "Without traditions the people drift apart. The community that Cobigail thrives upon diminishes, as does she. It saddens me to see her this way. Deep roots in soil that is running dry."
"Impressive metaphor, Bau. Couldn't have said it better myself." [The storytelling god praised. Though now Click-clack is terribly concerned for his fellow god's wellbeing.]
"They hardly ever sing anymore." Cobigail lamented, leaning into Thespius.
"Don't you worry, Cobi-girl. You know we'll sing to you." He assured her. His focus then shifted to Inspekta, who had fallen silent again, despite looking like he was holding back something he desperately wanted to say.
"You okay there, Long-dog?" He asked, sensing the obvious tension.
[The empathic god of love has taken notice that the youngest god, instead of his usual vibrant blue, is looking rather green around the gills.]
"Oh you poor dear," Mitternaucht placed a hand on his shoulder. "It must be hog-awful to see your friend like this."
"But, she'll be okay right?" His voice squeaked. "Gods can't… die…" the last word was quiet and weak. He hadn't wanted to say it aloud.
The look Miss Mitternaucht gave him, sad and knowing, hinted that she was about to give him an answer he did not want to hear.
"They can, I'm sorry to say."
"How!?" The word burst out of him as his jaw dropped.
"Gods live as long as they are remembered. As long as they are worshipped, they thrive." Bauhazzo explained. "But civilizations do not last forever, they do not. They fall in due time, to wars, disasters, economic failures, entropy. I have seen many come and go. And with them their written records, their oral histories, all eventually fade. This is what happened to the ancient gods that came long before us. With no mortals left to remember them, they ceased to exist."
"But we're not gonna let that happen to our Cobigail!" Thespius declared, standing tall and brandishing Tony. "I'll inspire the Milldreadites to make music once again!"
"And as the god of teamwork, I will do whatever I can to inspire comradery amongst your devotees." [Click-clack vows with determination in his words.]
"And I will tell any and all the histories of Milldread. I have seen them all, I have." Bauhazzo promised.
"Oh golly, all of you pulling together for little ol' me? I'm starting to feel better already!" Cobigail leaped to her roots, all four arms spread out wide.
"Time for goddies to be giving huzzlehugs!" Huzzle Mug filled that open space with a tight embrace, wrapping Its limbs around her at least three times. The other gods did not hesitate to join in.
Miss Mitternaucht watched her fellow gods wistfully. She turned to Inspekta, the only god besides herself not currently hugging the god of the harvest.
"You see Sunflower, Cobigail will pull through this, I am sure of …" she trailed off upon seeing him.
He was standing hunched forward, pupils constricted, his breathing ragged as he seemingly stared into nothing. A hand on his face, a hand on his chest, a hand on the back of his head, another in his mouth.
He had turned out Mitternaucht's words of assurance. In fact, he had stopped paying attention to anything and everything the moment Bauhazzo had confirmed his worst nightmare was a very possible reality.
They were all staring at him now. Some were speaking at him but he could not hear them over the panic in his brain, shrill and incessant as the screech of a dail-up modem. He was biting down on the hand in his mouth, so hard that if gods could bleed he would be drawing blood.
Cobigail reached out for him.
"Ihavetogonowbye!"
And suddenly he was gone, disappeared through the cornfield, leaving a very confused and concerned pantheon behind.
××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××
He curled up on himself within the confines of the God Complex. Screaming and crying and cursing that he must be the butt of some cosmic joke.
Gods can die if they are forgotten.
Hadn't he been fighting his whole life to never die forgotten?
Hadn't he seen the immortality of godhood as the ultimate escape from that very particular fate?
And it could happen to him. Cobigail was a relatively young god and already her people were neglecting her.
He wouldn't let it happen to him. He resolved to put every ounce of his resources, the Bizzyboys, his godly powers, all of it into making sure that nobody would forget Inspekta, god of leadership!
His thoughts were interrupted by a presence he could feel approaching the edge of his realm. He slammed a hand on a control panel and instantly a steel door manifested, blocking Thespius, Click-clack and Miss Mitternaucht from entering.
He heard a soft knock followed by, "hey dog, just here to make sure you're okay."
"Do you want me to write the door down?" [Click-clack helpfully offers, brandishing a pen and paper]
A few keystrokes and a surveillance camera manifested above the door, allowing him to see his visitors on a monitor.
He watched as Mitternaucht held Click-clack back with a gesture of her hand.
"No need for that." she said "It appears Inspekta wants time to process his feelings. We should respect his wishes. It must be so hard for him to see Cobigail in such a state, they're so close. But for now, let's give him his space."
He watched two gods leave, but Thespius hesitated, lingering behind long enough to look directly at the camera and add,
"When you're ready to talk, we're here for you." Then he left.
It was quiet, save the occasional beeps and whirs from the computers surrounding him.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts. He didn't want to talk, didn't want them judging him for being afraid, didn't want to look weak.
He couldn't keep that door up forever either, they'd get suspicious.
He devised a plan: occasionally leave the God Complex, pretend everything was fine, join in collaborative god duties with Cobigail only when it couldn't be avoided, keep interactions brief and professional.
Meanwhile, he would work on ways to shore up his reputation. Make sure every mortal in the Grove would remember Inspekta forever, one way or another.
A side project that would eventually become his obsession…
Hector lifted his glasses to wipe away tears.
"I was so cell-fish." He apologized. "I should'a been tryin' ta help yew, but I was only thinking of myself. And lyin' about you in those letters. You were my friend, and I was terri-bull to yew."
A giant, godly hand reached down and touched his damp cheek.
"You shush your spiralin' now." She said sweetly "you've apologized enough. I'm just sorry my forgetfulness caused you trauma drama." She chuckled lightly, "I have been told I should come with a trigger warning."
"You didn't deserve any of the bad things that happened to you. And all I did was add on top of it." He insisted.
"Hey, you're working to make up for it now, ain't cha?" She countered, wagging a finger at him. "Getting back on track with all the do-gooding you used to be known for."
Godpoke held up Megapon and added, "That Hector is one busy bee, cleaning up that mess he made." Cobigail recognized Goody's voice.
"Is that why you invited me over?" He sniffled, "to work off my debt with some hard labor?"
Cobigail was taken aback. She didn't want him thinking she wanted him punished.
"Actually 'Ecta, the reason I asked you to come was because… well, I missed ya!" She confessed, "I missed all the time we spent together. All the fun we had, the games, the chit chat. I missed my little String-bean." She leaned down close and playfully poked his belly. "Though these days you're looking more like a plump pumpkin."
"Heh, yeah, Capochin tells me I gotta lay off the burgies now that I'm mortal." He conceded.
Then he sighed, leaning into her hand. "I'm sorry I ghosted ya Cobi."
He scooped him up. He looked like a mouse in her massive hands.
"I'm sorry I ever forgot my best friend"
They gently touched foreheads, mourning time lost that could have been spent together.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the piano still standing there.
"Do you remember trying to teach me to play that pie-an-o?" He asked, pointing down at it.
She thought a moment. "Oh, yes I do!" She beamed. "Funny though, all those hands, yet you had such a time getting the notes right." Her face fell, having a revelation."I'm sorry for teasing you about that. Prolly the reason you stopped practicing."
"Nobody's poifect." He shrugged, then played with his sleeve before asking, "Do ya think you might wanna start giving me lessons again? Even though I may not be the best student?"
"For you," she answered, "I have all the time in the world."
She placed him on the top of the piano and began demonstrating a basic scale.
Godpoke watched for a moment and decided to let the two have some alone time.
They finished placing the blackberry filled buckets into the wheelbarrow and carted it through the portal, out of Cobigail's Clearing and into the schoolhouse's main classroom. A group of familiar Milldreadities were gathered there, chatting amongst themselves until Godpoke's appearance stole their attention.
"What news from our Lady Cobigail, Godpoke?" Asked Saul.
Godpoke gestured to the blackberries. "Yum, yum, come and get 'um!" Megapon sprouted, something snagged from a food truck vendor in the Cove.
"Alright! I can make a mighty fine cobbler with thesth." Bayker grabbed a bucket. Several others began scooping up handfuls to snack on.
"Once again Cobigail has blessed us with a fine bounty. Praise Cob!" Saul exclaimed.
"Praise Cob." Replied several blackberry filled mouths.
"Wasn't Hector in there with you?" Asked Goody.
Godpoke tilted their head towards the portal where the faint sound of piano playing could be heard.
"Huh, I think I've heard that thong before." Said Bayker. He turned to Saul, "We'd sometimesth hear it coming from the closet during clasth when we went to thchool."
Saul rubbed his chin with a thoughtful nod. "Yes, I do remember. And sometimes we could even hear singing. Something about … an apple and a worm I think."
The Milldread citizens continued passing around the blackberries, chatting and commiserating, while the jaunty tune played faintly in the background.
"And we'll stay together as so long the sun does burn…"
"You'll still be my apple"
"And you'll still be my worm."
THE END