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Every talk with ClownPierce was a riddle impossible to crack. Each time you tried to trick him you found yourself being tricked. Every moment you thought you had the upper hand you’d be flipped around facing the dead end. Most people didn’t even talk to him, after all. They kept running.
It never occurred to Branzy that, of all people, ClownPierce would be bad at lying. There just isn't a thing in the world this menace of a man isn't good at, right? Branzy thought so. Until a habit of his partner slowly reached him.
It was really close to a common thing - sharing some funny bits about yourself throughout work - but there wasn't anything even close to common when it came to ClownPierce or his work. It must’ve been a plan all along, some good plotting to win trust and murder later. Couldn't he, of all people, be incredibly genuine with someone he’s only keeping business relationships. If this even counted as a relationship, of course.
The realization - more like a hypothesis, honestly - hit him accidentally. It was closer to that silly little thought at the back of his head than to an actual idea, but who was Branzy if not a sucker for bad ideas.
He decided to test the waters first. Something between the “How many redstone stacks we need?” and “Do you think we have enough room to store it now?” that silly little thought slipped.
“Why clowns?”
And the answer was quite simple.
“I like clowns.”
ClownPierce kept mining. He didn't even tear his gaze away from the map he was checking coordinates with. Branzy decided to test his luck again.
“Why do you like clowns?”
There was a quiet giggle from the side of ClownPierce’s tunnel.
“Cause you never expect someone who brings you joy to stab you in the back.”
Branzy flinched at that. Threats were another thing ClownPierce was good at and that one was another success. Maybe there was a very little chance he was telling the truth but why would he spill it so casually? Perhaps it was the turn for more… personal questions, the one being how long can Branzy walk on a thin ice like that. But this discussion could be saved for another time. If he, of course, had time in the first place.
“We should gather more dye for your mask in the casino…” Branzy was checking his pockets on the way back from the mine. That should take way more red and black than he was even considering. “Why do you wear a mask anyway?”
Another tightrope to lay a foot on, and Branzy wasn’t a good ropewalker at all. Worth a chance, even if the safety net under it is nothing but void.
“Why do you wear clothes?” Clown asked as if he was offended by the question. Yet his voice remained cold, slightly amused even.
“Uhm, not to run around naked?”
“That’s your answer.”
Branzy shook his head with an exaggerated gasp, silly little he! At least he hadn’t got another threat after that. Yet.
“Faces don’t count as naked, man!”
“If you have a face.”
Branzy stumbled, nearly crushing his head into a hard cobblestone ladder. Why was this man so casual about it?! Was he even a man? A human? A-
“Wait, you don’t have a face???”
“Want me to strip yours as well?”
A cold flow of sweat rushed down Branzy’s forehead, and this time it wasn’t from mining. Damn this man and his sudden death threats! That is, if he was a man, of course. It could explain why no one managed to capture and destroy him for good. Maybe ClownPierce was indeed a demonic creature formed from every person’s worst nightmare and all of this was just a neverending dream. Branzy would lie if he said it was a bad one.
Maybe ClownPierce didn’t need to lie at all. People already expect a threat from him no matter what so what’s the point of pretending to be nice and butter his way up? He also didn’t need to lie about his skills - it’s a known fact that you should not mess with Clown, ever. He didn’t need to keep secrets nor that he had anyone to actually tell them to, too. It’s not like anyone ever asked him something like that either. They must’ve been too afraid, and not without a reason.
ClownPierce didn't need allies like everyone else to survive. He didn’t need anyone to even live, honestly. Then why would he keep someone as weak as Branzy around when he’s more than capable of slaying the entire mankind alone? It was the question that was messing all thoughts the most. It was only a matter of time for it to accidentally slip in, be bluntly said or-
“Why do you keep me around instead of everyone else?”
Branzy clenched the blueprint in his hands, staring at the velvetry-red outlines of the casino. For a second, he didn’t even register that he said that. But it was too late. Too late for his fate here, too late for his servitude, too late for his life anyway. So at least before he’s long gone he can get some answers.
“I am terrified of you.”
The blueprint slowly fell to the ground. Wait, what?
“Wait, what?” Branzy muttered in disbelief, staring at ClownPierce who was now facing him, not showing a single bit of emotion, as usual.
“I am terrified of you, Branzy. I thought you noticed that.”
Branzy’s eyes widened. He had to lean on a chest nearby not to collapse from pure shock. Clown should be kidding, right? Even if people rarely caught him joking at all.
“Uhh, w-why?”
“You don’t know your real power, do you?” Clown took a step closer, almost towering over him menacingly. “I saw what you did to Rekrap. I know what you’re capable of.”
Branzy shuddered. They were out in the open, not even a rack of a building to keep him cornered. Yet here, right in front of a demonic creature behind that funny porcelain mask, he felt like a game captured in a snare. One step back, instantly followed by a step forward from a tall figure.
“Clown, what are you doing?” Branzy almost got tangled up in his own legs despite him having plenty of room to escape or step aside. Pulse quickly went rapid, the sudden panic capturing all air in the lungs. The swift blink of a scythe wasn’t just a warning.
“You didn’t think you could interrogate me all day without facing any consequences, did you?” A swipe way too close to the neck shuttered the air. Branzy almost forgot the lines he heard just a second ago. Good thing his stupid silly little thought at the back of his head kept popping.
“You’re afraid of me!” Branzy took a step forward, pressing his body against the cold metal of the weapon, inspired by the sudden burst of courage. By something deep inside him that threw away the escape route long ago. “Why do you keep threatening me?”
“Why do you like it when I threaten you?”
And then it broke. The psychic tension between them snapped and Clown just laughed. Bright and cheerful, lowering the scythe in forfeit. Branzy thought he was the one seeing through ClownPierce’s deadly bravado, but in the end he was a subject closely observed under a microscope all along. He did join a psychopath and he loved every second of it. That maniac wouldn’t drag him along for a second if he wasn’t enjoying all of this just as much. Fear wasn’t the only reason. Fear wasn’t the reason at all.
“Do you like me?”
Branzy didn’t even notice the words slipping from his mouth. He mentally cursed himself for how pathetic they ended up sounding, but, heck, if this is an interrogation he would like to be on the other side of the table.
“I admire you.” Clown mused in some unreadable intonation that seemed much worse than just liking. “The same way you admire me.”
“What makes you think I admire you?”
“The same thing that makes you think I admire you, perhaps.”