Chapter Text
Everybody dies one day.
That was something that Taph had known since he was nothing but an infant.
The precise day where he had learned that fact had been engraved into his memory like a life lesson. Though he didn’t know the date, or how old he had been when it had happened, he knew that he was too small to even know what the word ‘death’ meant.
But if the place where Taph had grown up knew how to send one simple message to make any infant age mentally at an alarmingly rapid pace, that message was ‘death is inevitable. In every life, there is a final day.’
That day had been like any other. He had been with the mother who had taken him in. A selfless act, one that didn’t go unpunished. Selflessness isn’t rewarded. It's every person for themselves, and whoever goes against that is as good as dead.
She had another living child - younger than Taph. But, the child's sibling had died shortly after birth, so the mother had enough milk to sustain Taph while he still needed it.
He’d been young, then. Carefree. Thinking ‘Sure, life is a little dark. But there’s light!’
A childish, idiotic thought that every child thinks at some point in their lives, before reality crushes them.
It wasn’t over time, either. Taph wasn’t aware of what was happening until that day. Wasn’t aware until he heard the hungry cries of a baby who needed food desperately.
Taph had pulled themselves out of the small hole they called a bed and found the sheet on which the woman he had begun to call his mother lay. Usually, at that time, she was feeding her son.
She was still there. Sleeping, perhaps. But the sobs of the child next to her said otherwise. Taph had walked up to the mother’s still form, sitting next to her.
A rancid, foul-smelling odour emanated from the ‘bed’, and when he poked the woman to try and wake her up, all he found was cold skin.
Taph hadn’t known what it meant, at first. He had given her all his covers. He had slept near her to try to share body heat. Nothing had worked.
The baby cried all the time. Starving hungry, probably. Taph had tried to feed it herself, but her chest didn’t produce milk.
One night, the baby stopped crying. This time, it wasn't sudden. It was gradual. Slowly, the loud wailing began to die out, turning into a whimper, before eventually falling into silence.
Taph had checked on the child. It was as still as its mother, curled up against her. Its body was still warm, so Taph had hope that it was just sleeping.
Until the smell of rot forced them to leave that home.
Not even a grave. No time. It wasn’t safe enough to dig a hole, in case some barely buried mines lay beneath the soil, just waiting to be reactivated.
Taph had cried that night. Not like the baby - he couldn’t. But silent, heaving sobs, ones that would leave his throat raw if he actually had a voice. He had curled up in an alley with a small bag of supplies and cried until his eyes were sore.
That day had proved one thing - everyone dies.
“Taph?”
The soft voice snapped Taph out of their trance. They shook their head, taking in their surroundings. They were sitting on a windowsill, staring out at the vast expanse of the world of Robloxia. The sun had started to set, painting the sky with an orangey hue.
Taph turned around. Dusekkar was standing in the doorway, looking happy like he often did. Maybe his pumpkin head was made that way? Maybe he was just always happy. Nobody would ever truly know.
“Ah, I’m glad I found you. Tell me, what do you think of this magnificent view?” The mage walked over to the window, staring out at the horizon.
‘It’s pretty.’ Taph replied in sign language. Truth be told, before meeting Builderman and being brought to the admin HQ, he hadn’t known sign language. Dusekkar had taught him so that he could communicate.
Out of all the admins, Taph had found that he liked Dusekkar the most. Builderman was his idol for sure - he had often daydreamed about what he would do if he had Builderman’s power in the place he was brought up in. Nobody would ever go hungry again, especially not Taph. No woman would ever be forced to carry or give birth to an infant. Nobody would die to anything besides old age. The world would be a better place, surely.
But Dusekkar understood him in a way that none of the other admins did.
You see, most of the admins, being gods, couldn't care less about the lives of Robloxians. They wanted to be worshipped, and they wanted their creations to be safe. So, it was understandable that Builderman cared for Robloxians, as they were his creation.
But Dusekkar was different. He was responsible for Robloxia’s magic. But that had nothing to do with Robloxians. He had no reason to want to help or save them… but he had been the first to accept Builderman’s offer to try to make the world better.
Dusekkar had made a library inside of HQ, housing thousands of scrolls, about various subjects. History, anatomy, fantasy, even art. Written by Robloxians and gods alike, though mostly gods.
But Dusekkar had read enough scrolls about Robloxians to know a decent amount, and he had often spoken to Taph to learn even more about them. But over time, he had started to genuinely enjoy being around Taph.
And the feeling was entirely reciprocated.
Dusekkar sat next to Taph on the windowsill, looking out at the setting sun. “I must say, Robloxia is beautiful in this way.”
Taph slowly tore his gaze away from the horizon, looking at Dusekkar. ‘I’ve been wondering…’ He signed, and Dusekkar watched his fingers attentively. ‘Why do you speak in rhymes?’
Dusekkar was silent for a moment. He stared out through the window again. “I believe… it calms me. And… in these trying times, need for stress relief is plain for all to see.” The flame in his pumpkin head flickered, and he turned back to Taph. “Why? Does it… bother you?”
Taph instantly shook his head, shaking his hands at the same time as if to emphasize just how strongly he wanted to say no. Then, he settled down, still looking at Dusekkar. ‘I like it,’ He signed.
The flame in Dusekkar’s head seemed to burn brighter for a moment, and he smiled. A proper, wide smile that reached his eyes.
The two stared at the setting sun for a while, until it dipped under the horizon, the sky turning into a deep blue.
After a few more minutes, Dusekkar spoke up. “I suppose I should… get back to work. Builderman tasked me with finishing some paperwork.” He stood up slowly, the flame in his head lighting up the room despite being restricted by the pumpkin head.
[Author's note: Me when I rhyme work with work I'm so smart guys]
As Dusekkar started to walk away, Taph tapped his foot on the ground rapidly to get his attention. The mage turned slowly, looking down at Taph’s hands on instinct. ‘Could we work together?’ Taph signed rapidly, her hands moving faster than any novice would be able to understand.
Dusekkar smiled. “Of course.” He gently took Taph’s hand, pulling them upright and walking to their room.
In a few moments, the two were in Taph’s room. The demolitionist was sitting at his desk, while the mage was sitting at the small table that the admins had insisted on installing in Taph’s room.
Taph’s living quarters weren’t large by any means, but it was already more than they were used to. Inside was a bed in the corner of the room, next to which was a desk with several drawers to put blueprints, books or scrolls in. At the foot of the bed, pressed against the wall, was a large wardrobe, big enough to fit a whole person. And finally, there was a small couch with a table in front of it on the opposite corner of the room from his bed. A carpet connected the two from below, and the whole place was much warmer and safer than Taph’s home in his birthplace. He was endlessly thankful to the admins.
Taph repeatedly tapped his foot against the ground, fidgeting with his hands while he examined a new blueprint. Silence filled the room, interrupted only by Dusekkar’s feather pen moving across the page, and the occasional shuffling of paper as he switched page.
“Perhaps we could play some music?” Dusekkar spoke up. “It seems you're having trouble focusing, maybe that would do the trick.” Taph turned to Dusekkar on a swivel chair that he had immediately taken a liking to when Builderman had given it to him.
‘What music?’ She signed, tilting her head.
“Well, I’m not sure.” Dusekkar hummed thoughtfully. “What kind of music do you enjoy? Perhaps, to your lack of motivation, that will be the cure.”
Taph tapped their chin to show that they were thinking, then swiftly signed ‘Heavy metal.’
Dusekkar blinked. Then, he gave a small smile. “Ah, I have never heard of that kind of singing… it sounds… charming.” Taph stood up, walking over to a CD player and inserting the only disc he owned.
Instantly, music blasted through the room, with Dusekkar tensing in alarm. The paper in front of him spontaneously burst into flames, and he yelped, attempting to put the fire out. Taph turned the music off, rushing over to help the mage.
By the time the fire had gone out, the paperwork was as good as dust. The blackened paper didn’t even have visible writing anymore.
Dusekkar gave a long sigh of disappointment, and guilt spread through Taph's body like a wildfire. ‘I’m sorry!’ They signed a few times, before Dusekkar gently placed a hand on theirs.
“It’s alright, Taph. I lost my cool. In this circumstance, I am the fool.” The mage stood up, grabbing his staff. “I must go to Builderman to ask for another sheet - it was about a game of a simulator for farming wheat.” He chuckled softly, but still seemed sad.
Taph grabbed his arm softly. ‘I didn’t know you didn’t like loud music. I’m really sorry.’ Dusekkar looked down at him, then smiled.
“Now now, Taph, I assure you, it is absolutely okay! The fire was my fault in every way.” Taph tilted his head in confusion, so Dusekkar continued. “My pumpkin head inhibits my abilities - but strong emotions weaken its utilities. I am meant to stay impassive - that is how my power will remain inactive.”
Taph shook his head. ‘It’s not your fault. It’s normal to have emotions.’ Dusekkar smiled weakly at him, patted his shoulder gently, then walked out of the room.
Taph stared after him, watching the door slowly close. The demolitionist gave a sigh, walking back to her desk and picking up a pencil. They needed to get to work.
Dusekkar walked through HQ, staff in one hand, newly retrieved paperwork in the other. He needed a quiet space to work. As much as he wanted to be with Taph, he was rather embarrassed with how he had reacted to the ‘Heavy metal’ music.
He decided on a kind of cubby hole in the library, in the fork of a man-made willow tree. He tucked his feet under his backside, placing the papers down on the soft, wooden surface.
The tree had been designed by himself - he had spent ages studying trees, until he was able to replicate one with such accuracy that it looked like a tree had simply grown out of the wooden planks on the floor. The leaves kept the area Dusekkar was sitting in warm and isolated.
In a few minutes alone, he was done with the paperwork, carefully piling them up to make them all neat and tidy. He smiled at his handiwork, glancing down at his schedule for the following day.
8 A.M: Welfare check with Taph.
He chuckled at this - he’d already spent plenty of time with Taph today, so truly, tomorrow, they’d probably still be fine. But, it would be a good excuse to spend time with his favourite Robloxian!
Taph stared at his schedule, sighing heavily.
8 A.M: Welfare check with Dusekkar.
As much as he liked spending time with his favourite admin, he still felt guilty for making Dusekkar lose his cool because of the Heavy metal music. He had to try to think of an apology before he slept.