Work Text:
Wemmbu sat cross-legged on the floor of his base, both maces laid out in front of him. He dipped the cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out before starting on Crucible's handle. The metal was still warm from yesterday's fighting, and he could feel the familiar weight of her presence even before she manifested.
"You missed a spot," Crucible said, her form shimmering into view on his right shoulder. She pointed at a dried bloodstain near her base. "Right there."
"I can see it," Wemmbu muttered, scrubbing harder. His tail swished behind him in irritation.
"Could've fooled me," Gambit's voice cut in from his left shoulder, arms crossed. "Thought you were just smearing it around for fun."
Wemmbu's ears twitched as he suppressed a groan. "I'm doing my best here."
"Your best is shit," Gambit said cheerfully, leaning forward so his face was almost in Wemmbu's vision. "Look at that. That's embarrassing. What if someone sees us like this?"
"No one can see you but me." Wemmbu moved to Gambit's handle, scrubbing at the burnt residue with more force than necessary. His horns caught the light as he tilted his head, examining the damage. "And if you hate it so much, maybe don't get so messy."
"Where's the fun in that?" Gambit leaned closer, his grin widening until it looked painful. "Besides, the mess means we're doing our job. Right, Cru?"
Crucible sighed from his right shoulder, her expression softer than Gambit's manic energy. "I think there's value in cleanliness. It shows respect for your tools."
"Boring." Gambit waved a hand dismissively, nearly smacking Wemmbu in the face. "You've always been too gentle for your own good. Where's the passion? The thrill?"
"I have plenty of passion," Crucible said quietly. "I just don't equate it with violence."
"That's because you barely get used anymore." Gambit kicked his legs, clearly pleased with himself.
Wemmbu's claws slid out slightly. "Gambit—"
"What? It's true! I'm out there doing all the real work while Cru sits pretty inside. Must be nice."
Crucible's voice remained calm, though Wemmbu could feel her shift on his shoulder. "I serve my purpose when needed. Not everything requires your... enthusiasm."
"Enthusiasm? I call it effective." Gambit grinned wider. "Tell me, how many kills do you have this month?"
"That's not a competition," Crucible said.
"Everything's a competition."
"Not to me."
Wemmbu dropped the cloth into the bucket with a splash. "Can you two not do this right now?"
"Do what?" Gambit asked innocently, tilting his head.
"This. The whole—" He gestured vaguely with the cloth, droplets of water flying. "The arguing thing. I'm trying to clean."
"We're not arguing," Crucible said gently, reaching out as if to pat his shoulder before remembering she was incorporeal. "I'm simply stating facts."
"We're having a spirited discussion," Gambit added, kicking his legs like a child on a swing.
"You're giving me a headache." Wemmbu went back to scrubbing, his tail lashing against the floor hard enough to leave a mark. "Just let me finish cleaning so I can put you both away."
"Ouch," Gambit said, placing a hand over his heart. "That hurts, Wemmy. Really. Right here."
"Don't call me that."
"But it's such a cute name! Wemmy-wemmy-wemmy—"
"Please," Crucible interrupted softly. "You're making this harder for him."
"I'm making it fun," Gambit corrected. "There's a difference."
Wemmbu scrubbed harder at a particularly stubborn stain on Gambit's handle, his head lowering as he focused. The cloth was starting to fray at the edges, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "How is it possible that you're both literally objects and still the most annoying things I own?"
"Because we're special," Gambit cooed.
"Because we care," Crucible said, her voice warm. "If we didn't care, we wouldn't bother speaking to you at all."
"I wish you'd bother less."
Gambit gasped dramatically. "After everything we've been through together? All those fights? All those victories? And this is how you treat us?"
"You literally told me to rip someone's spine out last week."
"And? Did you?"
"No."
"Then what are you complaining about? I gave you options. That's supportive." Gambit leaned so far forward he was practically draped over Wemmbu's shoulder. "Besides, you can't tell me you didn't think about it."
Wemmbu's tail wrapped around his leg defensively. "That's not the point."
"Then what is the point?" Crucible asked, genuine curiosity in her voice. No judgment, just that eternal patience she always had.
"The point is—" Wemmbu paused, trying to find the words. His claws had fully extended now, digging slightly into the cloth. "The point is that I can't think straight when you're both constantly talking. It's like having two voices in my head that won't shut up."
"Technically, we are in your head," Gambit pointed out.
"That's not helping."
Crucible shifted on his shoulder, and Wemmbu could almost feel phantom weight there. "Would you like us to be quiet? We can do that."
"Really?" Wemmbu looked up, hope flickering across his face.
"No," Gambit said immediately. "Absolutely not. That sounds terrible."
"Gambit—"
"What? You'd be bored without me. Admit it."
"I'd be peaceful without you."
"Same thing!" Gambit beamed at him. "See? We complete each other."
Wemmbu pressed his palms against his eyes, careful not to scratch himself with his claws. "I'm going insane."
"You were already insane," Gambit said helpfully. "That's why you can see us."
"That's not comforting."
"Wasn't meant to be comforting. Was meant to be factual."
Crucible cleared her throat softly. "Perhaps we could compromise. Gambit could speak less frequently, and I'll try to offer more guidance when you need it."
"I don't need to speak less," Gambit protested. "I'm perfect the way I am."
"You're exhausting the way you are."
"Thank you!"
"That wasn't a compliment."
Wemmbu picked up the cloth again, dunking it in the water and wringing it out with enough force that his knuckles went white. "Fine. You know what? Fine. Talk all you want. I'll just tune you out."
"You can't tune me out," Gambit said confidently. "I'm too interesting."
"You're too loud."
"Same thing!"
Crucible sighed, and it sounded almost sad. "I do wish you'd use me outside more often. Not for the violence—I'd never ask for that. But I miss the sunlight."
Wemmbu paused, his expression softening slightly. His tail uncurled a bit.
"It's alright," she said quickly before he could speak. "I understand. Im more useful indoors after all.”
"Being outdoors is great," Gambit said, stretching luxuriously. "Blood, chaos, the wind in your—well, the wind on your handle. All the good stuff."
"That's not what I meant."
"I know what you meant. You meant the boring stuff. The 'oh look at the pretty flowers' stuff."
"There's nothing wrong with appreciating beauty."
"There's nothing right with it either."
Wemmbu set down Crucible's mace, now clean, and picked up Gambit's. The damage was worse on this one—always was. Gambit saw more action, more fights, more everything. His outdoor mace, his primary weapon. The one he relied on when things got serious. "You're both important," he said.
"Obviously," Gambit said.
"I know," Crucible added, softer.
"And I'm sorry I don't use you more, Cru. It's just..." He trailed off, scrubbing at a scorch mark. "You know how it is."
"I do." Crucible smiled—he could hear it in her voice even though he wasn't looking at her. "And I don't blame you. I just wanted you to know that I miss it sometimes. The adventure."
"Adventure," Gambit scoffed. "She means the killing."
"I don't mean the killing."
"Everyone means the killing."
"You mean the killing."
"Exactly. Everyone."
Wemmbu's ears drooped as he worked on a particularly stubborn bloodstain. "This one's not coming out."
"Battle scar," Gambit said proudly. "Leave it."
"I'm trying to clean you."
"And I'm trying to look cool. We all have our goals."
Crucible leaned closer to Wemmbu's ear. "You could try vinegar. It works better on blood."
"I don't have vinegar."
"Then water will have to do." She paused. "Thank you, though. For taking care of us like this. I know we're... difficult sometimes."
"Difficult?" Gambit laughed. "Speak for yourself. I'm delightful."
"You're something," Wemmbu muttered, but there was less heat in his voice now. His tail had uncurled completely, swaying lazily behind him. "You're definitely something."
"I'll take it as a compliment."
"It wasn't meant as one."
"Too late. Already took it."
Wemmbu finished with Gambit's handle and moved to his spiked head, carefully working around the sharp edges. His claws retracted fully so he wouldn't scratch the metal. "You both need repairs."
"I don't need repairs," Gambit said immediately. "I'm perfect."
"You have a crack in your side."
"That's a design feature."
"It's structural damage."
"Aesthetic structural damage."
Crucible hummed thoughtfully. "I could use some maintenance. Nothing major, just... tightening. Things have gotten loose."
"See?" Wemmbu gestured at his right shoulder, even though there was nothing there anyone else could see. "That's what I'm talking about. Crucible admits when she needs help."
"That's because Cru is weak," Gambit said.
"I prefer 'honest,'" Crucible corrected gently.
"Weak."
"Honest."
"We're back to arguing," Wemmbu said tiredly. His ears tilted downwards as if he was physically defeated by the conversation.
"We never stopped arguing," Gambit pointed out.
"That's my point."
"Then you should've said that first."
"I—" Wemmbu stopped himself, taking a deep breath. His tail coiled and uncoiled in a rhythmic pattern. "You're impossible."
"Thank you!"
"Still not a compliment."
"Still taking it as one."
Crucible's voice softened even more. "I appreciate what you do for us, Wemmbu. Both of us do, even if Gambit won't say it."
"I say it all the time," Gambit protested.
"You really don't."
"I say it in my own way."
"Insults aren't appreciation."
"They are if you say them right."
Wemmbu scrubbed at another stain, his movements methodical now. "I'm almost done."
"Finally," Gambit said. "I was getting bored."
"You've been here the whole time," Wemmbu pointed out.
"And I've been bored the whole time."
"That sounds like a you problem."
"It's definitely a you problem. You're the boring one."
Crucible laughed softly—a rare sound that made Wemmbu's tail flick happily despite himself. "He's not boring. He's thorough."
"That's just a nice word for boring."
"It's a nice word for careful."
"Still boring."
Wemmbu set down the cloth and examined both maces. They gleamed in the dim light of his base, almost looking new. Almost. The wear and tear was still there—the nicks, the scratches, the memories of every fight they'd been through together. His tail wrapped around Gambit's handle, lifting the mace gently. "There. Clean."
"I look amazing," Gambit said immediately.
"You look the same as before," Crucible corrected.
"Amazingly the same."
"That doesn't make sense."
"Your face doesn't make sense."
Wemmbu stood up, his legs protesting after sitting for so long. "I'm putting you both away now."
"Wait," Crucible said quickly. "One more thing."
"What?"
"Thank you. Really. For everything."
Wemmbu's expression softened, and his tail drooped slightly. "Yeah. No problem, Cru."
"And Gambit wants to thank you too," she added.
"I do?" Gambit looked genuinely surprised.
"You do," Crucible said firmly.
"Oh. Right. Yeah. Thanks, I guess. For not letting me get too fucked up out there."
"That was almost sincere," Wemmbu said, genuinely impressed.
"Don't get used to it."
"Wasn't planning on it." Wemmbu picked up both maces, feeling their weight in his hands. Real, solid, dependable. Even if the voices attached to them were absolutely insane. His claws traced the edges of Gambit's spikes, then the smooth surface of Crucible's handle. "You're both weird as hell."
"Takes one to know one," Gambit said cheerfully.
"Yeah," Wemmbu agreed, his tail swaying. "Yeah, I guess it does."
Wemmbu's mace connected with Flamefrags' shield, sending the blaze hybrid stumbling back. His horns gleamed as he pressed forward, claws fully extended now.
"That all you got?" Flame spat, flames flickering along his shoulders. "Bro, I've been hit harder by lag."
"Then stop dodging," Wemmbu growled, swinging again.
Flame ducked, fire sparking from his palms as he aimed a blast at Wemmbu's chest. "Maybe if you aimed better, bro—"
The fight devolved into a brutal exchange of blows, neither giving ground. Wemmbu's tail whipped out, catching Flame in the ribs. Flame retaliated with a burst of fire that singed Wemmbu's sleeve, the fabric smoking.
"YEAH! THAT'S IT!" Gambit's voice shrieked in Wemmbu's left ear. "RIP HIS FUCKING ARMS OFF! BEAT HIS ASS!"
Wemmbu faltered for half a second, distracted by the sudden volume.
Flame took advantage, landing a solid hit to Wemmbu's shoulder that sent pain shooting down his arm. "Bro, focus!"
"I AM FOCUSED!" Wemmbu snarled, tackling Flame to the ground. His horns nearly caught Flame's face as they went down.
"MAKE HIM BLEED!" Gambit continued, practically vibrating with excitement on his shoulder. "COME ON, WHERE'S THAT KILLER INSTINCT? TEAR INTO HIM! RIP! MAIM! DESTROY!"
"GAMBIT, SHUT UP!" Wemmbu shouted, pinning Flame's shoulders down.
Flame blinked up at him, confused and winded. "Bro, what? I didn't say anything."
"NOT YOU—" Wemmbu barely blocked Flame's knee to his stomach, rolling off and scrambling to his feet. His tail lashed behind him for balance.
"GO FOR THE THROAT!" Gambit was practically dancing now, shadow-boxing on Wemmbu's shoulder. "FINISH HIM! BLOOD! VIOLENCE! CARNAGE! THIS IS WHAT WE LIVE FOR!"
"I SWEAR TO GOD—"
Flame stood up, brushing dirt off his pants, small flames licking at the grass beneath him. "Bro, are you good? You're yelling at nothing."
"I'm fine!" Wemmbu's claws dug into Gambit’s handle. "Can we just—"
"STOP TALKING AND KILL HIM ALREADY!" Gambit demanded, leaning so far forward he was practically in Wemmbu's face. "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? AN ENGRAVED INVITATION? A FORMAL DECLARATION OF MURDER?"
Wemmbu spun toward where only he could see Gambit, his tail nearly whipping Flame directly in the chest. “I'M TRYING TO FIGHT! YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"
Gambit crossed his arms, looking offended. "I'm providing moral support."
"YOU'RE PROVIDING A MIGRAINE!"
"Moral migraines are still moral support!"
Flame watched this exchange with growing bewilderment, flames dying down slightly on his shoulders. "Bro, seriously, who are you talking to?"
"Nobody!" Wemmbu turned back to Flame, claws flexing. "Can we just finish this?"
"Whatever, bro." Flame cracked his knuckles, flames dancing along his arms again, brighter now. "But maybe see someone about that. Hearing voices isn't normal."
"DON'T LISTEN TO HIM!" Gambit yelled, even louder than before. "HE'S JUST SCARED! MAKE HIM SCARED-ER! IS THAT A WORD? WHO CARES!”
"I'M GOING TO THROW YOU IN A LAKE!" Wemmbu shouted.
"You can't throw me anywhere! I'm a concept!" Gambit paused. "Also your main weapon! You'd be screwed without me!"
Flame tilted his head, genuinely concerned now. "Bro, you're really freaking me out."
"GOOD!" Wemmbu charged forward, more to get away from Gambit's voice than anything else. His tail streamed behind him as he moved.
The fight resumed with renewed intensity. Wemmbu's claws raked across Flame's arm, drawing blood. Flame's fire scorched Wemmbu's side, making him hiss in pain. They moved in a deadly dance, each trying to gain the upper hand.
"YES! YES! THAT'S IT!" Gambit was practically screaming now. "MORE! MAKE IT HURT! MAKE HIM REGRET BEING BORN!"
"HE'S MY RIVAL, NOT SOMEONE WHO WOULD HURT AN INNOCENT CHILD!”
"WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?"
"A LOT OF THINGS!"
Flame landed a solid punch to Wemmbu's gut, making him double over. "Bro, I don't know what's going on with you, but you need to get it together!"
"I'M TRYING!" Wemmbu wheezed, as he tried to catch his breath.
"RIP HIS LUNGS OUT!" Gambit suggested helpfully. "THAT'LL TEACH HIM TO TALK BACK!"
"THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!"
"VIOLENCE DOESN'T NEED TO MAKE SENSE!"
Flame backed up, hands raised in a defensive position. Fire crackled around him, but he looked more worried than aggressive now. "Bro, okay, timeout. Seriously. You're scaring me."
"I'M SCARING YOU?" Wemmbu straightened up, gesturing wildly at his left shoulder where Gambit sat invisible to everyone but him. "I'M SCARING YOU?"
"Yeah, bro! You're having a full conversation with yourself!"
"I'M NOT TALKING TO MYSELF!"
"Then who are you talking to?"
"MY MACE!"
Flame stared at him. "Your... mace."
"YES.”
"Your weapon."
"YES, BRO.”
"The inanimate object."
"HE'S NOT INANIMATE TO ME.”
Gambit perked up. "Aww, you do care!"
"I HATE YOU SO MUCH RIGHT NOW.”
Flame slowly lowered his hands, the fire dimming around him. "Bro, I think we should stop fighting. Like, right now. You need help."
"I DON'T NEED HELP!" Wemmbu's tail was thrashing so hard it was leaving marks in the dirt. "I NEED GAMBIT TO SHUT UP FOR FIVE SECONDS!"
"Can't do that!" Gambit said cheerfully. "It's physically impossible for me!"
"TRY!"
"NO!"
Flame took another step back. "Yeah, okay, I'm just gonna... go. You work on whatever this is, bro." He gestured vaguely at all of Wemmbu. "We can fight later when you're... better."
"I'M FINE.”
"You're really not, bro."
"COWARD!" Gambit shouted. "GET BACK HERE AND FACE YOUR DOOM!"
"HE CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
"THEN YOU TELL HIM!"
"NO!"
Flame was already walking away, looking back occasionally like he expected Wemmbu to chase him. "Seriously, bro, talk to someone. Like a professional."
"I DON'T NEED A PROFESSIONAL.” Wemmbu’s eye twitched.
"You kinda do, bro!"
Wemmbu stood there, chest heaving, his horns casting shadows as Flame disappeared into the distance. His tail had stopped thrashing and now hung limply behind him. His claws slowly retracted.
Gambit sat on his shoulder, still grinning. "Well, that was fun!"
"Fun?" Wemmbu turned to look at him. "FUN? We didn't even finish the fight!"
"We made him run away. That's basically winning."
"That's not winning! That's him thinking I've lost my mind!"
"Potato, potato."
"THAT DOESN'T WORK WHEN YOU SAY IT THE SAME WAY BOTH TIMES!"
Gambit shrugged. "Not my problem. So, when's the next fight? I'm pumped!"
Wemmbu pressed his palms against his face, his tail drooping in defeat. "I need a vacation."
"Vacations are boring."
"Everything is boring to you except violence."
"Exactly! See, you get me!"
"That's not a good thing, Gambit. That's actually a really bad thing."
"Agree to disagree."
Wemmbu's tail coiled around his leg as he started walking back toward his base. His shoulders were slumped, his horns dragging slightly. "Next time, I'm using Crucible."
"She's an indoor mace. You were outside."
"I DON'T CARE!"
"You will when you need the advantage and all you've got is an indoor mace that can't perform properly!"
Wemmbu stopped walking. "You know what? I'm done. I'm done talking. I'm done fighting. I'm done with everything."
"You say that every time."
"This time I mean it."
"You say that every time too."
Wemmbu resumed walking, his tail dragging behind him in the dirt. "I hate you."
"No you don't," Gambit said confidently, leaning back on Wemmbu's shoulder. "You love me. I'm your favorite."
"You're my only current existing outdoor mace. The others were destroyed in the past. That doesn't make you my favorite."
"Sounds like favorite to me!"
"That's not—" Wemmbu stopped himself, taking a deep breath. His ears lifted slightly as he tried to calm down. "You know what? Fine. Whatever. Think what you want."
"I will! Thanks for permission!"
"That wasn't permission."
"Too late! Already thought it!"
Wemmbu walked the rest of the way in silence, or at least he tried to. Gambit kept up a running commentary about the fight, about what Wemmbu could have done better, about how much fun it was, about how they should do it again tomorrow.
By the time they reached the base, Wemmbu's horns were completely flat against his head and his tail was tied in a knot.
"Same time tomorrow?" Gambit asked hopefully.
"Go away."
"Can't. Literally attached to you."
"Figuratively go away."
"That's not a thing."
"It is now."
Gambit cackled deviously, and it echoed in Wemmbu's head after he'd put the mace away and collapsed onto his bed, his tail uncurling.
Eggchan sat across from Wemmbu, his six wing headdresses catching the light as he shifted. He tilted his head, the central eye blinking slowly. "Bro, So you talk to your weapons."
"It's not like that." Wemmbu's tail curled around his leg defensively. His ears drooped slightly, like he was embarrassed. "They're... it's complicated."
"I'm not judging." The jaws behind the eye opened slightly as Egg ate an apple, the sound disturbingly wet. "I'm just trying to understand, dude.”
Wemmbu sighed. "They're not just maces. Gambit and Crucible—they're real. They talk to me."
"Like voices?"
"Like people." He gestured vaguely, his claws extending slightly before retracting. "They look like people. To me, anyway. Nobody else can see them."
Egg finished the apple, his headdresses fluttering. "Bro, What do they say?"
"Gambit's bloodthirsty as hell. Always wants me to kill things. Rip things apart. He gets really into it." Wemmbu's tail twitched at the memory. "Crucible's different. She's always been gentle. Merciful. She doesn't like violence much, but she understands it sometimes happens. She just wants it over quick so nobody suffers."
"That's unexpectedly merciful."
"Yeah." Wemmbu's claws dug into his palms slightly. "Makes her easier to deal with than Gambit, at least. But I barely use her anymore."
"Because she's an indoor mace?"
"Yeah. And we fight outside mostly, obviously." His horns tilted as he looked away. "So Gambit's my main weapon. Which means I'm stuck with his bullshit all the time."
Egg's wings shifted, creating soft rustling sounds. "Where are they now?"
"On my shoulders. Always on my shoulders." Wemmbu pointed to his left. "Gambit's here." Then to his right. "Crucible's here."
Egg looked at both shoulders, seeing nothing but empty air. "Dude, do they know I can't see them?"
"Yeah."
"What are they saying right now?"
Wemmbu paused, listening. His tail uncurled slightly. "Gambit says you should eat faster because it's creepy watching. Crucible says hi and that she likes your wings."
Egg's eye crinkled in what might have been a smile. "Bro, Tell them I said thank you."
"They can hear you. They just can't respond in a way you'd notice."
"That must be lonely for them."
Wemmbu blinked, surprised. His tail twitched a bit. "I never thought about it like that."
"Being seen by only one person? Heard by only one person?" Egg's headdresses formed an almost halo-like shape as he leaned forward. "That sounds isolating."
"I guess." Wemmbu's tail swished thoughtfully. "They have each other, though. And me."
"Do they talk to each other?"
"All the time. Usually arguing. Gambit thinks Crucible's too soft. Crucible thinks Gambit's too violent. They bicker a lot."
"Sounds like they balance each other out."
"Or they just drive me insane, bro." Wemmbu's claws extended fully now, restless. "Sometimes I can't tell if they're actually real or if I'm just losing it."
Egg's wings fluttered again. "Do you think they're real? Or..."
"I don't know." Wemmbu looked down at his hands, watching his claws retract slowly. "Sometimes I think I'm just crazy. But they feel real. They've helped me fight, given me advice. Bad advice sometimes, but still. And when Gambit needed repairs after that fight with Flame... it was weird not having him around. Even though he's annoying as hell."
"The 2v1000 fight?"
"Yeah. That one." Wemmbu's tail coiled tighter. "Gambit got fucked up. Needed serious repairs. For a while it was just Crucible, and she... she was different when he wasn't there. Quieter. More worried. Like she missed him even though they fight all the time."
"Does it matter, bro?" Egg asked suddenly. "If they're real or not?"
Wemmbu thought about that, his horns tilting as he considered. "I guess not. They're mine either way."
"Then that's what matters." Egg's eye crinkled again. "We all have our things.”
Despite himself, Wemmbu laughed. His tail uncurled completely. "That's fair."
"Besides," Egg continued, pulling out another golden apple, "if they keep you alive, who cares if they're maces or people or something in between?"
"When'd you get so wise?"
"I've always been wise. You just don't listen." The jaws clicked shut behind the eye as he bit into the apple. "So which one's your favorite?"
Wemmbu's ears tilted defensively. "I can't pick favorites. That'd be like—"
"You definitely can."
"...Gambit."
"There it is."
Wemmbu's tail flicked, hitting Egg's leg lightly. "Don't tell Crucible."
"Your secret's safe with me." Egg's wings fluttered in amusement. "Though I do want to be there next time you fight Flame. You yelling at nothing was hilarious."
"You heard of that?"
"Everyone saw that, Wemmbu. Stories spread fast here. You were screaming at your shoulder."
Wemmbu's ears drooped in embarrassment. "Great.”
"It's not that bad. Brother, People probably just think you're eccentric." Egg paused. "Very eccentric."
"I hate you."
"No you don't, bro."
"...No, I don't." Wemmbu smiled despite himself, his tail uncurling and swaying gently. "But you're still annoying."
"Takes one to know one, bro," Egg said, and his hidden jaws clicked in what might have been laughter.
Wemmbu looked at his shoulders, at the empty space where only he could see his companions. Gambit was grinning. Crucible was watching him with that gentle expression she always had.
"They're weird," Wemmbu said quietly.
"So are you," Egg pointed out.
"Yeah. I guess I am."
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, Egg eating his apple, Wemmbu absently tracing patterns on the table with his claws. His tail swayed in a lazy rhythm, his horns relaxed.
"Do they ever disagree about things?" Egg asked suddenly. "Besides the violence thing?"
"All the time. Gambit thinks I should fight more. Crucible thinks I should be careful. Gambit wants me to take risks. Crucible wants me to stay safe." Wemmbu's claws tapped against the wood. "Sometimes I think they're just different parts of me. Like, Gambit's the part that wants chaos and Crucible's the part that wants peace."
"That's pretty philosophical for someone who talks to their weapons."
"Shut up, dude.”
Egg's wings fluttered with barely suppressed laughter. "Do they ever agree on anything?"
Wemmbu thought about it, his horns tilting. "They both care about me. In their own way. Gambit shows it by trying to keep me strong. Crucible shows it by trying to keep me alive. Different methods, same goal."
"That's actually kind of sweet."
"Don't let them hear you say that."
"They're hearing me right now, aren't they?"
"Yeah."
Egg looked at both of Wemmbu's shoulders again. "Well, Gambit and Crucible, it's nice to meet you, bro. Even if I can't see you."
Wemmbu listened for a moment, then snorted. "Gambit says you're weird. Crucible says thank you for being kind."
"Tell Gambit he's one to talk. He's literally a weapon that talks."
"He says that makes him interesting, not weird."
"Same thing."
"That's what I said!" Wemmbu's tail thumped the ground in agreement. "He never listens."
Egg finished his apple, the jaws making that wet clicking sound again. "So what's it like? Having them around all the time?"
"Exhausting," Wemmbu said immediately. Then he paused, his expression softening. "But also... not lonely. You know?"
"Yeah. I know."
"Like, I could be by myself in my base, but I'm never really alone. They're always there. Commenting on stuff. Arguing with each other. Arguing with me." His claws retracted fully as he relaxed. "It's annoying but... I don't know what I'd do without them."
"That's called friendship," Egg said gently.
"With my weapons?"
"With whoever matters to you."
Wemmbu was quiet for a long moment, his tail curling and uncurling thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense, bro.”
"Of course it does. I'm very wise."
"You said that already."
"It bears repeating."
Wemmbu's tail flicked out playfully. "You're such an ass."
"Says the guy yelling at his shoulder during fights."
Wemmbu grinned sheepishly. "Gambit's very loud."
"I'm sure he is, bro." Egg's wings shifted, his central eye glinting with amusement. "Does Crucible ever get a word in?"
"She tries. Usually Gambit talks over her." Wemmbu's claws tapped again. "But when it's just her, when Gambit's not around, she's actually really good at advice. Thoughtful. Careful. She thinks things through."
"Unlike Gambit?"
"Gambit doesn't think. He just wants blood."
"Sounds exhausting."
"You have no idea."
Egg pulled out yet another apple—seriously, how many did he have—and bit into it. The jaws worked methodically, hidden but audible. "Do they sleep?"
"I don't think so.”
“That’s weird.”
"Tell me about it." Wemmbu's tail swished. "Sometimes I wake up and Gambit's already suggesting who I should fight that day."
"And Crucible?"
"She usually tells me to eat breakfast first."
Egg's laughter was muffled around the apple. "She sounds like the responsible one."
"She is. Way more responsible than Gambit. Or me, honestly."
"That tracks."
"Hey."
"I'm not wrong."
Wemmbu couldn't argue with that, so he didn't try. His tail settled into a gentle sway. "Thanks for not thinking I'm crazy."
"Oh, I definitely think you're crazy," Egg said cheerfully. "I just don't think it's a bad thing."
"That's... surprisingly reassuring."
"I'm surprisingly good at this."
"You're really not."
"Agree to disagree."
They fell into comfortable silence again, the kind that only happened between people who'd been through things together. Wemmbu could hear Gambit muttering something about finding someone to fight, and Crucible gently suggesting they stay here a bit longer.
For once, he agreed with Crucible.
"See?" Wemmbu gestured at his shoulders. "This is what I deal with."
Egg's eye crinkled. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."
Wemmbu looked at his shoulders, at the spaces where his maces manifested, at the companions only he could see.
"No," he admitted, his tail swaying contentedly. "I really wouldn't."