Work Text:
Telamon had labored countless hours into this masterpiece of a weapon; carefully constructed code, asset upon asset, all for a hammer he would see no personal use of. But he still smiled, for his delicate handiwork would soon meet its owner.
He placed it in a box, surrounded it with foam and paper to protect it fully, and set out to the headquarters holiday party. Robloxia was colder this time of year; feathers kept his wings warm, and he'd long ago commissioned fur-lined robes for the rest of his body. They weren't as thick as other people's winter clothes- he ran hot- and that was good for mobility.
He took off from the ground, firmly clutching the box in his talons, and was there quickly. Below, Robloxians gasped; many were there for the holiday events, and were unused to seeing an admin overhead.
Telamon landed at the headquarters; he set down the box, took it up in his arms, and shooed away the paparazzi that immediately followed; he had other, more important matters.
He disliked the elevators of the headquarters, but understood why they couldn't just have an overlook on every floor for him to use; his own office, thankfully, was fitted with accommodations for his more divine traits.
His talons rapped against the smooth tile floor as the sound of conversation and joy came into focus; he was approaching the right place.
“Telamon! Ya made it!”
Builderman had a slight flush to his features; in his hand, he held a glass of eggnog; his words were slightly slurred.
“Of course he did. Did Builderman think Telamon would pass on such an opportunity?”
“Yer not normally the party type, is all! C'mon, grab some eggnog. It'll do ya good.”
“He shall make his own decision on the personal improvement of the eggnog, but he thanks you for the suggestion.”
“Why so uptight? Ya upset? It's the holidays!”
“He was just hoping you would be more lucid.”
Telamon muttered under his breath; Builderman didn't hear, and went off to drink more with Doombringer. Telamon set the present underneath the large decorative tree, making sure the label was present. Perhaps later, Builderman could appreciate it properly; that time was not now.
Telamon took a slice of the ham; it wasn't his preference of meat, but he was far from picky. He was above meats like rat and squirrel, but so far nobody had dared attempt to feed a god such; this livestock sufficed.
“Hey!”
Brighteyes greeted; she was sober, thankfully.
“I wasn't expecting to see you here. Nice to have you, Telamon!”
When he didn't respond, she continued.
“What's wrong?”
Telamon looked away, eating another slice of ham before responding.
“He prepared a wonderful gift for Builderman, but Builderman is drunk. He cannot properly give it when Builderman is in such a state.”
“Why not just wait for tomorrow?”
“Mortal heads ache after participating in such activities.”
Telamon crossed his arms, turning his head away from Brighteyes and closing his eyes.
“He's just tipsy right now. You could ask him to stop.”
Telamon peeked open a single eye.
“... He had not considered that.”
Brighteyes smiled.
“Good luck!”
Telamon walked over to Builderman.
“He asks you to stop drinking.”
Builderman turned away from the conversation.
“Yeah?”
“Builderman is tipsy, and Telamon has brought Builderman a gift. He does not want to give it to Builderman, for he prefers Builderman be lucid to properly witness its magnificence.”
“Alright, I can stop, ya big bird.”
Builderman chuckled and set the red plastic cup on the table.
“Ya know I'm fine.”
“He doubts that.”
But Telamon stayed until the end of the party, watching Builderman like a hawk; the way the skin around his eyes creased when he smiled, the way he would brush his hair out of the way, the way he would occasionally glance back and set Telamon's heart fluttering.
None of it escaped him.
When the party was over, and everyone but Builderman had left, Telamon was still there, waiting.
“What do ya want?”
Genuine confusion struck Builderman's tone.
“... He will deliver his present to Builderman's residence, if Builderman would not mind him knowing where it is.”
“Ya can come with me.”
Telamon leaned over Builderman as he walked out of the building and to his car; Telamon held the present dutifully.
“Get in. Ya can put that in uh… the trunk.”
Telamon opened the trunk with his talons, placing it inside with the same care one would treat a baby. He opened the door to the passenger's seat and squeezed himself into the car; it was a spacious car, because Builderman was no poor man, but it was still difficult for Telamon to fit with his wings.
Telamon had nothing to say throughout the ride; he was content just to look at Builderman.
“Ya know, when we first hired you, I wondered what the hell I was thinkin'. I mean, hirin' a god to work for us? That's ridiculous. And ya ain't just any god, either, you're the first of them, made by 2x2 THEMself… but then ya started doin' work, and ya do it damn well.”
The halo of fire around Telamon's head burned brighter.
“Yer a wonderful coworker.”
If it weren’t for the fact that his halo was magic, the car would probably have burned down at that moment.
Builderman’s house was as sturdy and strong as he was; it was grey and cold, brutalist in architecture, functional if nothing else. Holiday lights hung around it, the only little spot of color. Had it been the house of anyone else, Telamon would have brushed it off with a scoff. But being led inside by Builderman himself turned it into an entirely different matter indeed; the slightest hint of personality, of decoration, became a compliment.
“No need ta shower me in praises. I know it’s barebones.”
Telamon set the present underneath the tree.
“There’s the guest bedroom. Knock yerself out.”
Builderman walked into the master bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him; Telamon heard him brush his teeth. Telamon had no need for such things; his teeth did not decay as robloxian teeth did. The guest bedroom, he decided, was adequate; only because it was Builderman’s.
Telamon awoke early in the morning, as he normally would; Builderman was still asleep. Telamon sat on Builderman’s couch, waiting patiently to be blessed by his presence. It was hours until Builderman walked out, hair a rat’s nest and looking like he’d been run over by a reindeer; Telamon would tell you that it was one of the greatest moments of his life.
“Builderman awakes,” Telamon began, “Now, will Builderman open Telamon’s gift?”
“Hol’ up an’ lemme get my mornin’ coffee.”
Builderman walked to the kitchen and brewed himself a cup of coffee; Telamon sat in the same spot, unmoving.
“Yer really excited about this, huh?”
“That is correct; he has worked diligently at preparing this for Builderman for months. Telamon is ready to see Builderman open it.”
Builderman sighed and brought the box into the living room; Telamon had carefully measured Builderman’s strength through a variety of ‘meaningless office tasks’ to make the hammer an appropriate weight.
“Pretty heavy.” Builderman commented; Telamon’s breath hitched.
Builderman began methodically tearing off the wrapping.
“It’s… a box!”
“Open the box.”
“Dang, okay.”
“Was Telamon too harsh?”
“It came out a bit rude.”
“Telamon will do better in the future.”
Builderman opened the box, eyebrows lifting.
“Ya made this yerself?”
“Yes, he did!”
“It’s beautiful.”
Builderman lifted the hammer out of the box, feeling for its weight.
“Thank ya, Telamon. Sorry I didn’t get ya anythin’.”
“There is no problem; he has all the time he could possibly need to receive a gift from you.”
Builderman smiled.
“Yer one strange bird.”