Work Text:
Grian stares up at the enormous robotic monitor that looms over the landscape of Mumbo’s quaint mountainside town. As he watches, the display shifts, and the face on it blinks back at him and wiggles its digital mustache. He frowns, crossing his arms.
“I just wish you’d told me,” he grumbles, kicking idly at the mud brick path blocks with no real malice. “I would have— I don’t know. I would have done something, that’s for sure.”
The letter display flickers, and Grian steps back to read it, paying careful attention to keep track of the letters as they spell out a message.
I _ W A S _ D Y I N G
“You weren’t though, were you!” Grian huffs petulantly. “Because that’s not how anything works! You just decided one day that you were going to ‘get old’ and ‘die’, and that this was the only solution, and now you’ve gone and made yourself into a giant robot! Without me!” He pouts. “Giant, lovable robots and chicken shenanigans were both our things, and now you’re off doing them all on your own!”
The display flickers again.
I _ D I D N T _ W A N T _ T O _ B E _ A _ B O T H E R
Grian throws a rock at the robot’s screen. It doesn’t come remotely close to hitting, but then again, he wasn’t really trying to. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “Of course it wouldn’t have been a bother.” He sighs, flapping his wings to take off. He flies over across the way and lands to sit on the bench, taking in the view that Mumbo so loved.
“I’ve missed you, mate,” he sighs.
I _ M I S S E D _ Y O U _ T O O
Grian huffs, and a tiny smile grows on his face. “Next season,” he says. “Next season.”
(He tosses a raw potato into Mumbo’s oil feeding bin. Just for old time’s sake.)