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"And Mumbo, this worst day has gotten even worse!" Grian yells out in frustration, his wings fluffing up behind him.
They are, admittedly, worse for wear. There are feathers sticking out at odd angles, and there is a ton of soot and dust marring the usually colorful feathers.
Both his head wings and his back wings are in rough shape, and he definitely looks like he has had the worst day. Even his clothes are dirty, for Void's sake!
"Like, I has to call Keralis to come save me because I got stuck in a hole with a bunch of pigs! And— And—" He grabs 'Mumbo,' shaking the armor stand by the shoulders.
"And then I flew face first into a basalt pillar!' Grian rants. For dramatic effect, he points to his nose that has a bandaid over it. And some dried blood from when he was having a nosebleed just a few minutes ago.
Yes, he knows the bandaid does literally nothing. Does he care? No. It makes him feel better, and so he has one.
'You could just heal yourself,' the armor stand seems to say. Grian glares at it.
"No, I can't because— you know why!" He hisses in annoyance.
'Nobody would know, and you'd feel so much better. All these problems could have been avoided if you weren't pretending to be someone you aren't.' The armor stand is very convincing, much to Grian's horror.
He frowns, crossing his arms. It would be a lie to say he wasn't tempted. He misses the feeling of magic coursing through his body, and even being able to see everything.
"I am being myself. The good version." He insists, but the words fall flat. There's a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he's been forced to swallow his fate. As if this isn't his choice.
Like, he can leave whenever he wants! And then... go back to his life as a watcher. Even though it's boring, because all of the watchers look up to him.
Mumbo's face on the armor stand seems to warp, twisting into a white mask. The symbol on it glows an eerie purple.
"You aren't even real. You're just some stupid armor stand." Grian scoffs, reaching out and pulling Mumbo's head off the armor stand.
The mask doesn't disappear.
Grian pauses, pulling the mask off. It's not even Mumbo's head anymore. It's his own.
He rubs his eyes fiercely. When he opens them again, it's back to normal. It's Mumbo's head, and there's nothing in his hand.
...Void, he must be going crazy.
He knows none of the other watchers would mess with him. And they can't even get onto this server!
Grian chose to try being a normal player. He was bored of his life as a watcher. (Of course he still checks in every now and then, but he offloaded his work while he's away. It's not like there is anything going on anymore.)
Well, this sounds pretty terrible now that he thinks about it. A watcher pretends to be a player just because he's bored? And he dragged other players into the Life Games just for fun? Wow. No wonder the Hermits hate watchers.
The sound of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts.
Grian whirls around, wings flaring out. His face is twisted into a bitter expression, glaring at whoever is about to walk around the corner.
"Grian? You okay?" Xisuma calls, stepping out. He looks concerned. When he sees Grian, his face falls.
A sense of guilt weighs Grian down, and he averts his eyes.
"Hey, Xisuma. Sorry, you startled me." Grian forces a laugh. He almost cringes at how hollow it sounds.
Xisuma pauses, looking him up and down.
"You're covered in dust! And your wings are almost completely black!" The voidwalker exclaims, his hands flying to his head in exaggerated surprise.
Grian can't help but laugh at the sight. He covers his mouth, turning his head away. Glancing at his wings, he is almost disgusted to see how filthy they are. It's such a hassle to have wings. They're just such a pain to clean.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I've just been having the worst day." Grian's laugh dies out as he sighs.
"Aw man, I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to make it better?" Xisuma asks, sounding so genuine that Grian wants to run away.
"Uh... I don't know." Grian smiles wryly.
"If you're okay with it, I can clean your wings for you." The voidwalker offers. He sounds like he's smiling, but Grian can't exactly see behind his mask.
"Really? That would be awesome." Grian lets out a sigh of relief. He sits down on the floor, shaking out his wings a bit. Some of the dust falls loose.
"Yeah, of course!" Xisuma beams as he walks closer. His eyebrows raise as he notices the Mumbo head in Grian's hand.
"Is that a Mumbo head?" He asks, bewildered. The voidwalker sets an enderchest nearby, digging through it.
Grian freezes. He had forgotten about that whole thing. He puts the head in his inventory.
"Oh— yeah, I was just missing him a bit." Grian sighs, looking at the floor.
"Y'know, you can always send me a message if you need a hand. Or if you just want somebody to hang out with." The voidwalker hums. He tries to make it sound casual, but Grian can tell Xisuma's worried.
"Okay, okay, I'll try to remember that." Grian smiles even though he knows Xisuma can't see it.
After a minute, Xisuma finally sits behind Grian. He pulls out a water bucket and a towel.
"It might be a little cold, I'm sorry 'bout that. Try to relax though." Xisuma says, dipping the towel in the water. He then begins to wipe down Grian's wings.
It's a slow process, but Xisuma doesn't seem to get bored. He is very methodical about it.
"I didn't know you knew how to take care of wings." Grian blurts out, breaking the silence. The voidwalker doesn't pause in motions, but he chuckles.
"Yeah, but it's been a long time since I have, so I apologize if I mess up." Xisuma speaks quietly. His voice is soothing to listen to.
Grian hums noncommittally, letting his eyes close. The feeling of his wings being cleaned isn't particularly pleasant, but it's rhythmic. It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep.