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Two Time sits in their cabin, lit shoddily with a tiny lantern of their own making. They’d always known that was theirs, carving in the symbol of the Spawn by wick’s adjuster was a memory they cherished endlessly — Yet, they still had no idea how it’d gotten here.
Clearing their head, they, as if they hadn’t at least ten times by now, opened up the paper chit Builderman had handed them just this morning. It said nothing groundbreaking, simply but one name, Chance. They sigh the moment they give it the nth read.
Shedletsky, the considerate individual that he was, ah, what a good Spawn mentor he’d have been, had decided to once again try something ‘festive’ in order to keep their spirits up. Nobody really thought it to have been, as they’d dubbed it, ‘Christmas’, but Shedletsky had simply claimed that the entity that reigned over the place had rendered the cabin slightly chiller than it typically was, and that it was absolutely a sign of it being winter wherein they’d come from. Hence, Christmas.
Two Time did not get Christmas, it seemed to be some sort of nonbeliever rebrand of the typical winter celebration the congregation would have, but they were not going to bring themselves to back out of something all ten of their acquaintances were participating in, the thought had something rather wounding well up in them, after all.
And, here they were. The sheet, according to Builderman, communicated to Two Time one measly task. Procure a gift, for Chance.
Two Time, if you were to ask them, is quite learned in the art of gift-giving. The Spawn is, after all, generous, is he not? Of course, his believers have ought to be, too. There were a myriad of gift-giving traditions for celebrations, back when they were with the congregation, and without fail, Two Time delivered. They’d almost, as Shedletsky and the like tend to put it, made a name for themselves.
They still recollect, being approached time and time again for advice, or how each and every time, he would struggle — A prompt pause in their thoughts. They slowly shake their head, lulling the wave approaching their mind overhead with thoughts of the Spawn, of prayer.
They glance down at the sheet, slightly crumpled, now. Therein lied their problem. Two Time did not know Chance, and Two Time did not know most of their company more than they knew this realm, as to say, barely. Life in purgatory had only allowed them the briefest of chances to get to know those around them, and Two Time themselves wouldn’t be able to pick someone they knew best. Suffice to say, they have not spoken to Chance often, let alone gotten to know them.
However, there is an opportunity for them, for, lest they forget, gift-giving is their specialty. With the briefest of hints on preference, familiars, background, they just know they could get something to Chance’s fancy. Perhaps, they’ve ought to visit a friend of his?
They think, every round, meeting by the fireplace, run-ins they’ve had with Chance, did he have anyone specific? Then, it hits them. Elliot.
—
Elliot is social, compassionate, someone they’ve definitely spoken to more than Chance, and if there is anywhere he would be, it’d be the central cabin. They nudge the door open, already prepared for his presence, “Elliot!”
They are correct. “Two Time?” He responds, rising from one of the couches by the fireplace. They approach him, halting him in his step.
“I have come for advice regarding the… Secret Santa! Would you mind lending me a hand?” Elliot shrugs,
“Oh, of course! Is it with the gift, or—“
“It’s who I’ve gotten!” They blurt out, in a lot more panic than intended. “I’m afraid I do not know them well, but I do not wish to give them something they wouldn’t want! I presume you know them well, could you give me a pitch?” Elliot, still in some shock, nods back. “Good! It is Chance who I must prepare a gift for.”
“Chance? I should’ve figured.” He comments, “He’s pretty easy to please, though, I’ll say. He likes a good cold dessert! Oh, and I know he seems to have a wealthy palette, but I’ll be the first to tell you he doesn’t. He prefers things simple.”
Two Time nods along, mentally noting each and every point, preference for cold desserts, not very luxurious taste… A gift should come to them right about now, yet their mind simply comes up blank,each and every concept occurring as too simple, or something they simply can’t reach a conclusion with on whether Chance’d like it or not! Still, they take in a breath, this was a start. “Many thanks, Elliot! The best of luck with what you are to prep!”
“Ah, you’re welcome —“ And once again, Two Time does not hear what he has to say.
—
At their cabin’s steps, they stare down their unraveled chit in deep thought. What on earth could they possibly get him? A simple chilled brownie had first come to mind, yet, for whatever reason, it seemed too simple a gift. Perhaps Two Time simply wasn’t used to recipients with a taste for things so mundane, but they couldn’t bring themselves to give a gift they weren’t satisfied with, whether or not Chance would like it out the question.
Then, footsteps. Slow-paced, as if attempting to be careful, Two Time already predicts the one on the way. “Oh, if it is not Noob!”
“Huh —… Two Time.” They acknowledge, giving them a small wave. Noob does not seem to know Chance all too well, however still, anyone could be of help to this predicament. They silently invite them to take a seat by them, and Noob obliges. “Is something up?”
“Yes! By the Spawn, I require assistance…” They declare, splitting their chit open and holding it before Noob. “I find myself unable to think of something that would suit them, yet the deadline approaches!” Noob glances from side to side,
“Sounds tough…” Two Time nods, with fervour.
“Tough indeed! Elliot has already given me some of their preferences.” They think, what could they ask Noob about? What hadn’t Elliot already told them? “Could you, perhaps, let me in on any memorable interactions you’ve had with Chance? I find myself lacking in that department.”
“Oh, of course! Uh…” They take a moment to think, a strained expression coming over them. Two Time briefly considers telling them they aren’t ought to give them an answer, struggle being evident, yet, they aren’t able to before Noob eventually speaks up again. “I haven’t really spoken to Chance much, but there was this round — O-one of the first ones. They were kind of, y’know, dying? I tried to give them a hand, and they… Gave me a hug?”
Two Time stills, a hug? They knew little of Chance, yes, but they had never thought of them to be the kind of person to express love through physical means. If anything, with how freely they seemed to speak, speech looked like their go-to. The idea crammed up into their head, of Chance, in all their free-moving, reckless selfhood, giving someone a hug in a time of need. It did not look like them, yet that was something they’d done nonetheless.
It has them recollect, one of their few, relatively personal talks with Chance. On a map on which piano-esque music had seemed to play from nowhere. He’d told them something along the lines of, it’s a piano, I’d know, personal experience. They asked if he’d played the piano in the past, and he said yes.
The image of Chance at the bench of a piano had plastered itself onto their thoughts for a substantial amount of time. What kinds of songs would someone like Chance play? That, they could not answer, not when they had known so little of them at the time, and not when they already found it difficult to image them at a piano in the first place.
They place their hands together as they ready up to listen even closer to Noob, there really was a lot for them to know about Chance’s character. “When I asked them why, they just… Froze up. They apologised a bunch and told me they thought I was someone else, and then they — tried to hand me their gun when they realised they were going to…” Noob couldn’t quite pick up from there, yet Two Time knew they’d already gotten beyond enough.
“Ah… It is alright, you need not continue. This seems to be taking its toll on you.” They state, Noob sending them a brief look of relief.
“O-okay then. Good luck with the gift, Two Time.” They respond, a wry smile on their face. Two Time smiles back.
—
After their talk with Noob, Two Time has taken down extra, much-needed mental notes on Chance’s character, and seems to hold a better picture of them. He is someone who seems to be tightly tethered to his past, he is someone who, in spite of what Two Time had previously observed of him, seems to express through physical touch and gesture, and he is someone with simple tastes, and a love for cold, sweet dishes.
Right. What kind of gift would someone like Chance love? They ponder, glancing at the wall of their cabin. Back at the congregation, Two Time’s gifts were unique in that they were rooted in the recipient’s preferences and person, while still tying back to the Spawn, and the occasion at hand. They recollect an elder with a seeming love for soup-like dishes, someone stern yet evidently tough-loving. Two Time had chosen to hand-carve her a wooden bowl and spoon, with visible theming after the season of autumn, and, of course, common symbols of the Spawn galore. She loved it.
Could they try something similar, for Chance? They wonder. Then, their mind snaps back to their list, for Two Time had forgotten their one contribution to the list of things Chance were and would enjoy, the piano! Chance played the piano. A hobby, dare they say, of his. To take inspiration from the piano would take some simple theming, easy to apply to whatever Two Time was to make, just as Elliot had stated Chance liked things. Perfect.
Although, with Chance’s piano experience once again at the forefront of their mind, they cannot help but look back at what they’d first asked themselves in its regard, what kinds of songs would someone like Chance play? In spite of their lack of an answer prior, they could see something. They had an idea.
Of Chance, playing something slow — soft, even — personal yet reminiscent of something from prior. What first comes to mind is the classic children’s rhyme they had observed the gifted ones at the congregation playing on occasion, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.
A smile creases their face, for they haven’t much time to continue pondering, Two Time has a gift to make.
—
Six rounds. One ‘day’ — Hence, their deadline.
In their hands sits a small box, wrapped with the supposedly common red paper, alongside a label in order for it to be discernible that this was for Chance. The box was courtesy of Elliot, who they’d had to approach once again to ask on how one was to properly store a dessert. They’d required some extra assistance from him when it came to trying to work with icing for the first time as well, and the results were evidently satisfactory.
What Two Time had for Chance was a small, chilled square brownie, the sheet music for Twinkle Twinkle Little Star iced onto the top from memory, and all for sides carefully dotted with a piano key pattern. Personalised, fitting. The perfect gift for someone like Chance, they think, setting their work by where each and every gift was. They could spot one in blue wrapping paper, evidently done haphazardly, right by another wrapped with care in contrast, done with multiple ribbons in a rather creative fashion, in Two Time’s eyes.
Shedletsky was up for announcing names, evidently, him having been the one to organise everything alongside Builderman. Up first had been Elliot, the recipient of that meticulously wrapped gift Two Time’d noticed, who’d received a little cardboard model of an oven. The gift, as Two Time should’ve been able to gather, was one from Builderman.
The group went the list down, Two Time having been the fourth to receive their gift. It was a holder for their dagger, evidently hacked in wood by someone who’d likely never done anything of the sort before. That, in and of itself, made them smile. That someone had gone into uncharted territory to create something Two Time would like — And the gift, they did indeed like. Their gift had been from Noob, who seemed to’ve consulted the robot on it, Veeronica, they were reminded.
Chance, as if to keep them at the edge of their seat, was last. They watched with anticipation, as he began to rip the wrapping paper up as if unfamiliar with how one would undo a present’s wrapping, and as he’d opened the box, Two Time could’ve sworn this was the most elated he had seen them look. Chance’s smile was in no way grateful, nor curious, they were delighted. Two Time knew this look well, not exactly on Chance’s face, but that was no matter, it was evident, they loved it.
The next few moments passed not quick, yet not slow either, Two Time wouldn’t be able to describe it. They had never exactly watched someone eat with such vigour, after all. After what they’d estimate to be five minutes, Chance would finally take a moment to glance around them, “Alright, who was this?”
And before Noob can gesture at them, or Elliot can tap him on the shoulder to speak up for them, Two Time raises their hand, instantaneous, “It was I, Chance!”
He spots them, behind the little crowd that’d gathered up to watch him unbox his gift, and he shoots them a smile. “Thanks, Two Time. Seriously, I had no clue you knew I played the piano!” They then gesture at the, although half-eaten away, notes atop the brownie. “Chose just the right song, too, this is the one I can play with my eyes closed.”
Right before they can respond, Shedletsky pipes up, the conversation then devolving into questions surrounding songs Chance could play with his eyes closed — Yet, Two Time does not mind, for they are beyond satisfied with just that. Just the fact that they’d made someone like Chance a gift they ended up loving.