Work Text:
The times where Sword’s phone isn’t broken are… brief. But he made sure to keep it in decent condition for his spawnday, just to receive that sleepy 12 AM celebration from Rocket.
Spindle is aware of this. TOO aware, since they’re waiting outside of Sword’s door, listening to the two talk. One-sidedly, since they can’t hear Rocket. But Sword’s all too excited responses are plenty.
They check their own phone. It’s been…seven minutes. There’s no way this call is going to end anytime soon. Their only option is to sit here and keep waiting, though, because Venomshank is barely tolerating their presence here in the first place. They also lied and said that Sword was expecting them. So, like, they’re kinda fucked maybe. Maybe planning on breaking into the room of someone cared for by a deity is. Not smart. But! It’s fun.
“No, Rocket, please! Go to bed! If we’re really gonna hang out all day, I don’t want you falling asleep during it! I’ll go to bed real soon, I promise! I just have to double-check something! No—I’m not gonna fall asleep on call with you, Rocket??”
…What the fuck. They don’t want to be involved in… this. They’re stuck with this. Stuck with being friends with idiots who can’t seem to figure out their crushes are mutual. It’s so obvious. Alas, idiots are idiots. But! At least the call is assumedly wrapping up. And Rocket isn’t winning the sleep-call fight. It was a weird fight in general. Why do people even do that? Maybe Spindle’s just uncultured since the person they were closest to was their own damn sister, who was always physically there, but it just doesn’t make sense to them.
No, they have MANY friends! They haven’t even been asked that! Granted, most of their friends are used to being super tight-knit. Literally. Their fault for accidentally getting close to a bunch of inphernals from Playground. Despite being very… not-Playground? They can’t keep up, but they’re kept around.
Anyway, they’re not hearing a call anymore, but they are hearing shuffling. Slowly, they open Sword’s door, peeking in. He’s… well, his back is turned, they have no clue what he’s doing. With little regards for what normal people should do, Spindle strolls on it, shutting the door behind them. It’s quiet, barely even a small noise as they slowly let go of the handle. Which is intentional, they’re trying to make sure he stays unaware of them. Still, they’re prepared for him to hear it anyway—Phighters kinda have to pay attention to everything going on, and that doesn’t end once a match does—and turn around… but he doesn’t. Hm, still distracted by that call with Rocket.
No matter. They just go ahead and plop down on the edge of his bed, waiting all smugly for him to turn around. Scaring him will be funny. Hopefully it doesn’t freak out Venomshank and result in their death.
Miserably, they have to wait more than five seconds, and get pretty bored.
Until Sword sighs and gives up, turning around and freezing. Darn. The first few times they scared him, he reacted much more loudly. Perhaps he’s too tired for that? “What—are you doing here?” A weak question, perhaps he’s scared of the answer? Are they scary?
“Happy spawnday, Sword.”
He blinks a few times, tilting his head lightly, like one of the small birds that they see hopping about quite often. “...Thanks…? Why are you in my room?”
…Fair point. Spindle gets up, pulling a small bag out of their pocket and holding it out to him with a flourish. It’s a bag they use to carry needles, but they emptied it out for this. Hopefully didn’t lose any of their very important sewing tools in the process. “I got you a present, and I’m going to be too busy during the day to come see you at all. I finished a project late and thought ‘might as well’!”
Like this isn’t still incredibly weird, Sword nods a few times, taking the bag from them. “You want this bag back, right?” Aw, he remembers that they’re a weird hoarder! Yay!
“Mhm! Your gift’s in it, though, so take that out before you give the bag back.” They shift in place a little, giving him a silly look. “If you don’t love it, I’ll just give you a severely discounted commission. 30% off!”
He laughs, though it’s much more subdued than his usual volume. So he does know how to be quiet, but perhaps only when his mentor will get onto him about it, like an instinctual thing? Or he’s just tired. “Spindle, you’ve given me a bigger discount for less. Besides, I’m definitely going to love it! I love gifts! And you’re all… weirdly knowledgeable."
Is that what he’s calling it now? “Sword, your crush on Rocket is so insanely obvious, I think a random inphernal on the street could tell within five seconds.” They might not even be wrong on that one. “But don’t get your hopes up on the gift. It’s… small, and not worth very much.” While they do consider the value of a gift when given one or giving one, it’s not a main factor. Just a small note. Unless it’s something cheap and they don’t like it at all, because then they know the person didn’t truly care; vice versa applies, too! They don’t want to get someone a cheap gift they won’t like!
With a shrug, he grins. “Riiight, sure, sure. Super obvious crush.” Deities, they are doooonnee trying to argue with him over that. They literally figured it out when first meeting him. Rocket’s more subtle, because the two had been talking for a bit—and Sword being one of Rocket’s favorite topics—before Spindle figured that one out. Anyway. “Hey! Small gifts are still good gifts, and who cares how much it’s worth!”
To prove his point, he reaches into the bag, pulling out what is a glorified bracelet with dangly bits. “...Um. Okay what is this? I can tell you made it, but…”
“It’s a decoration. For your sword. It’s barren and sad and boring. Not even a sticker. You can do better, Sword. Which is why I made this. There’s a clasp so you can get it onto your sword, and all the fringe is for fun. And style. You should trust me on that; I run a tailor’s shop and everything.” Playful wink, even as they’re very nervous and afraid that he won’t like it, that they’ve completely messed this up.
Instead, his eyes light up, and he grins. “Oh, that is so cool. I’ve never—do people put stuff on their swords? I’ve never heard of that before.” Letting them get away with dissing on his sword, just because he’s all excited about something else.
But… “Well, I have no clue! I got it from a book.”
“Ooh, what book?”
“...I don’t remember the name. It had romance in it, which is weird enough, but it was just… badly written, too. Why put such a rare thing in a book, and then write it so poorly? Boggles my mind.” Spindle takes the bag back from Sword, cramming it into their pocket again. “I did like the one scene where the knight’s sword gains a charm from his lover, even though they were a terrible couple, and shouldn’t have bonded in the first place! Not friends, not together! Nothing!”
Sword’s the only other member of their book club, so he’s hanging on to every complaint. “Noo, that’s awful! I mean, that’s a cute scene… but should they have even been acquaintances? Badly written romance… what’s the point?”
Spindle nods a few times, going back to sit on Sword’s bed. This time, he follows, still holding the decoration in his hand.”I know! It feels like the author was trying to say or do something that they just… don’t understand. No, they shouldn’t have been acquaintances. Meeting once should’ve convinced them that they hate each other, because they’re so different. Different values, warring factions, clashing personalities… one of them completely lost their personality to justify the romance! Ugh! They both had such good characterization, thrown away for… that.” A sigh, and they shake their head. “Anyways, yeah. Book got boring after that. I finished it, in case it got better or the romance got trashed later on… nothing. They even—they sacrifice gear power at the end for kids. Insane behavior. One of them runs off the moment they’re confronted with anything, the other is always yelling and violent. No way either of them can handle being a caretaker.”
Absent nods. Sword’s much too busy trying to fumble with the clasp, and Spindle realizes they might’ve forgotten to take his hand size into consideration while picking the method of getting it onto his sword. Gently, they reach over and undo the clasp for him. Yeah, it’s… well, maybe the clasp is just confusing? He’s probably seen maybe one clasp before in his life, since he’s so sheltered and all that. “Oh, thanks. Um, yeah, that blows.”
He wasn’t paying attention to their rant at all.
They sigh, flicking him on the forehead. Wait. “Oh my deities. Sword, you’re bald.”
A few seconds of unimpressed staring. “Spindle, we’re all bald.”
“No, Sword. Your HELMET. Where is it. You’re so scary without it.”
“Rude!” He laughs and lightly nudges them. They have to grip the edge of his bed for their life to not fall over. They don’t work out or anything like that, way too busy with other stuff. LIke making clothes and doing commissions and running a store…
“Whatever, dude. Anyway, I’m done talking about the book. You’re free of freaking out about not paying attention.” An absolutely bewildered look from him, as if they’re some sort of mindreader. In actuality, it was just very obvious in his expression. “How’s training going, Sword?”
Glad for the topic change, Sword chirps out an answer quickly. “Good, good! Venom’s having me double what I’m currently doing, something about me seeming more sloppy? I have no clue what he means, though… I think I’ve been stable in my progress!”
Dramatic shiver. “Gross… training… progress! I’m so glad I don’t have to do any of that. I’ll just die if someone attacks me, I guess.” He doesn’t seem to like that, but he chooses to not say anything anyway. “Anyway, I’m happy you’re enjoying yourself! Even if that sounds like a nightmare to me. Uh, I don’t know anything about swords, but are you moving slower? Like, busy thinking, type of way?”
Small bit of internal debate, and he tilts his head. “I have no clue, actually.”
Great. “Mm, I see. Will Venomshank tell you what’s been wrong, or is he expecting you to figure it out and correct it?”
“The latter.”
“Gross.”
Sword shrugs, flopping down against the bed, hands behind his head. Spindle follows suit, putting their hands on their stomach instead. “Yeah, I think he’s gonna cave, though, since I'm not figuring it out. It’s been a week, usually it only takes me a day or two.”
They hum, then laugh. “Are you thinking about Rocket while training, mayhaps?” It would explain why he seems to be sloppier, since it’s too busy being infatuated with Rocket.
“I…”
A glance over. He’s befuddled… and mortified. “How—do you just guess all this? I have been thinking about him during training, but it was all like… ‘I hope we can hang out soon’ or ‘what is Rocket working today?’ so I thought that it couldn’t be it.
Deities, help them gain the strength to deal with these morons they talk to, and also help the idiots in question figure out their crushes are mutual. Spindle did not get paid enough to start dealing with this, and now they’re stuck with it forever.
“Liar. You totally think about holding his hand, too.” That seems like some sappy junk Sword would—he’s blushing. Looks like he’s been caught. It’s almost worse that they were right. Dread, internal tears. They are so tired of this. They never want to third-wheel again. Rocket comes and delivers whatever they’ve ordered from Zuka, and SWORD comes along, despite NOT getting paid, NOT working there, and then the two BASICALLY FLIRT ALL OVER SPINDLE’S STORE… and sometimes their bedroom, considering they live on the floor above the shop. And they obviously let their friends come hang out in their basically-an-apartment, but maybe they shouldn’t. Rocket also almost broke one of their picture frames last time he was over, so he’s on a temporary ban.
Sword groans, shifting to get his hands free, covering his face instead. Not wanting to face their disappointed look, or let them see his embarrassment. “You’re terrible and I hate you.” Huh. Spindle’s a bad influence. They say ‘and I hate you’ so much that Sword’s picked it up, despite being so whimsical and joyous and… easily impressionable, actually. “I—it’ll pass at some point soon!”
What. “...Really, now?”
“Yep! It’s just a temporary crush. Like when… you think someone is so cool and you admire them, so you think you might have a crush?”
They know that feeling, but they also don’t at the same time. They get it when they want to be friends with someone, since most of their friends get forced onto them. A disturbing amount of inphernals take their passive-aggressive defense as a challenge, or even just ignore it. “Yeahhh, sure, buddy.”
They also know damn well that Sword’s crush isn’t like that.
“Doubting me for no reason at all now, Spindle…” he grumbles, lightly kicking at them. Ow. Again, he is strong, they are not. He is incapable of remembering that, so they don’t bring it up anymore, not wanting him to feel too bad.
With a sigh, Spindle moves a hand over to Sword’s stomach. He doesn’t realize what they’re doing fast enough to stop them, instead making a small, strangled noise as they jab their fingers into his flesh. Then casually put their hand back over their own stomach, mildly aware to keep an eye out for any revenge. “I have plenty of reason to doubt you, Sword.” Not really, they don’t know him well enough. But lying is free and easy. “I’ll let you defend yourself first, though.”
“Um… I’ve read plenty of books.” They take one glance around his room, noting the complete lack of books, before turning their head towards him, unimpressed. “...A few years ago! But, uh, yeah. It’s—well, it’s like the knights and royalty. The knight saves some royal person from a dragon, typically slaying the beast, and gets a kiss in return.”
Does Sword ever have a thought? What the fuck does that mean. “...What?”
Thankfully, he apparently has an explanation. “You know! I wanna do things that’ll get a kiss from Rocket! That’s it.”
They are NEVER talking to anyone EVER again. Deities above. They’re going to have a mental break over this. “Sword. If you want more than one kiss from Rocket or you’re doing things with the motivation to KISS ROCKET… maybe it’s more than that? Also, wanting to hold hands or go on dates is very different and automatically gives you a D1 astronomically down bad crush.”
As per usual, the absolute word salads they can pull out terrifies Sword into momentary silence. “I don’t think I want to know what half of that means. ‘Down bad crush’ is enough.” Quiet, frightened. He would not last a DAY in Playground. Spindle could. They have, actually. Inspiration is everywhere, and some of Spindle’s best works are inspired by something or another in that region. Well, their best works tend to be inspired by multiple—ah, forget it. “I… I’ll keep that in mind, though.”
Sounds like he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. Probably overwhelming. “Right. Um. We need to get the thing on your thing.” Very eloquent. “...The charm on your sword. Think you can clasp it shut, or do you need me to?” They would prefer NOT having to touch Sword’s gear. It’s… weird. Uncomfortable. Touching someone else’s gear. They’ve had to do it a few times due to lunatics coming into their store and commissioning some decorations for gears, but it’s… not preferable.
They actually managed to read a situation right, considering how he sits up again, looking all relieved, summoning his gear, glancing at them awkwardly. “I can probably get it on. You can… instruct me, if I mess up.” Fair enough, he doesn’t trust them with his gear. They wouldn’t either, especially after they just jabbed his stomach for no reason at all. There was a reason. That reason was impulse. “Just gotta figure out where I want it.”
Yeah, they want to see what horrible planning he has, so they wait. Apparently they wait too long, because they’re treated to the small metallic click of the clasp closing, audible in the silence. Spindle sits up, checking where he put it. On the handle, assumedly not in a spot he holds onto it, so it won’t bother his grip. If he had some form of sheathe, it’d be convenient to put it on that… but he doesn’t. Thankfully, because he would look terrible with one.
Sword looks at them, grinning and accomplished. “I’m a pro.” Aww, he is picking up the phrases that they use with Rocket! “Thanks, Spindle! I can’t remember if I said that or not!”
“I can’t either!”
Ruining whatever dumbass bonding moment the two were about to have, Sword’s phone makes a small noise, and he hones in on it instantly, snatching it and frantically typing. Fifteen billion spelling errors… at least he’s fixing them. And that contact is definitely Rocket. They gathered that from his tapping the screen, to go correct errors in what he previously typed, and how quickly he abandoned them for this, since Rocket is preferred.
Fair enough. They like Rocket better than him, too.
Not that they don’t like him. Sword’s great, he’s just not Rocket.
…They’re biased because they’ve known Rocket longer, and he’s the one who tends to deliver stuff to them. From Da Shop. Hm, deja vu. Probably thought about that decently. Oh well. They love defending themself with the same points over and over again!
Instead of teasing him or even making any sort of comment, Spindle quietly waits. And waits. And waits. And… yeah, no, Sword’s been sucked into this conversation with Rocket.
“Rocket says hi, Spindle.”
That takes them a few seconds. “Oh. Um. Tell him I said hi back.”
A bit of typing and waiting… “I’m not repeating that out loud. Or showing you. He called you a bunch of mean things and said to ‘get out of the huzz’s room or he’ll end your luzz’. Whatever that means.”
Luzz? End your luzz… oh. Life. Life huzz. “Tell him I said ‘fuck you, I’ll steal the huzz if you try to kick me out of his room again’.”
Sword stares at them for a few seconds, then back down at his phone. Winces. “I’m not doing that.” Back to typing, then he sets his phone down. “Anyway, yeah. Thanks, Spindle. I love the decoration, it’s cute! It, um, might get damaged at some point, though…?”
“...Ugh.” Spindle knows what he’s getting at. “I’ll fix it. Or make you a new one if I can’t fix it. I have the measurements written down and everything.”
He makes some sort of noise, grinning at them again. “I’d love to hug you but I don’t know if you’re okay with that.”
Dramatic sigh. They sit up. “Fine. One hug.” Hugs are terrible, it builds attachment, and they kind of don’t want to do all that. Still, they spread their arms, waiting.
This next noise is obviously a squeal, and he almost tackles them. Practically crushes them in his arms. But he realizes it rather quickly, and they can only assume he’s trying to be mindful. He lets up, more of a gentle wrap than the earlier squeeze. Like a cocoon, almost?
And it’s… nice. Really nice. Almost like the hugs they’re used to, except large and muscular instead of scrawny and thin. Their sis—
Spindle pushes at Sword, wanting him off as soon as that thought hits. Doesn’t even take him longer than a second to back off, looking vaguely confused and a bit nervous. “Spindle? Um, are you… okay?”
“Yes. Fine. Sorry. I’m not used to being touched for extended periods of time.” Lying, since it’s free and easy. “You already pushed your luck with your hug, do not ask for more out of me.” Awkwardly, they pat his shoulder, getting off his bed, standing up. Their knees pop, and it’s a bit embarrassing. “I should leave, so you may sleep. Rocket will be keeping you busy all day, I presume. You’ll need to rest. It’s… truly a feat, what he does around those that are low on energy.”
Sword stares at them for a few seconds, watching them creep away. “You talk real fancy when you’re hiding something, Spindle.” Probably the most observant thing he’s said to them in a while, and very… well, they’re pretty obvious with this one. So it’s not a compliment at all.
“It has very little to do with your… spawnday. So it does not matter. Focus on enjoying yourself, enjoying the… festivities. Happy spawnday, Sword. If you come by my shop and find something that fits you, I’ll sell it to you with a… 50% discount. Have a good night, and sleep well. Your day will be long and fulfilling, and I do hope very rewarding. After all, aren’t you going to be spending Rocket’s money?”
They know this because Rocket told them. He told them his entire plan for the day, and also threw an apple at them when they suggested it was a date. He was just mad that Spindle was right. And Rocket’s soooo convinced Sword doesn’t like him back. Because he’s stupid. And Sword’s also stupid for believing Rocket doesn’t like him back. This is why these two aren’t their closest allies.
For reasons unfathomable to them, Sword just stares at Spindle as they grab onto the door handle. “Right. 50% discount, huh? Is that because I’m spending Rocket’s money?” He doesn’t really want an answer, considering he shakes his head and sighs, offering them a weak smile. “Good night, Spindle. I know you aren’t going to sleep, so just… remember to keep an eye on your energy?”
They nod, slipping out the door, closing it behind them. Moving to leave, almost bumping directly into Venomshank. They would have, if he did not politely step back. Disturbing. But he doesn’t say anything, just nods and walks away. The bird however… they maintain eye contact with it for a while, suspicion running both ways. Then a wave of understanding. A fellow being so tired of Sword’s feelings for Rocket. Venomshank stops for a second, and they swear he makes some noise before continuing to walk. Hm, wonder what that’s about.
Spindle slips out the door, taking their chance to escape the house of madness. The trip home is of a decent length, but they’ve done longer for way less meaningful reasons. They spend the time planning, already imaging such a nice concept, just trying to figure out the material, what it will be in the end.
Unfortunately, it isn’t finished when they get home, and they simply sketch it out instead. The main color is a passionate red, deep and cool, yet so full of brewing fire. Silver accents it, shining like… well, armor. They’ll be simple with it. Though it’s inspired by Sword, it’s inspired by his explanation. Knights and royalty. Whether they’ve forgotten through time, or through amnesia… they know that has to be fairytales told to newspawn, even though they can’t remember any of it themself. What a magical concept, something so simple. Something so easy for someone like Sword to latch onto.
Of course Sword wants to be like the knights in stories, protecting others, gaining simple rewards nowhere near proportionate to what they do, and being so satisfied with it still. He’s so… selfless like that. And it’s weird and strange. He might be the only inphernal they know that’s satisfied with something like that. Boombox is… a hard case, a tough nut to crack, if you will.
The design, looking at it from farther away… perhaps it would be something like a tapestry, or a coat of arms. Regal and fitting, likely something to be made of silk? Gently, they pick it up and set it into the collection of other inspired designs. Maybe one day they’ll do something with it. Or… organize their room.
Okay, they have a plan. Once Sword does something about his feelings for Rocket, Spindle will do something with this design. Not the others. Never the others. That’s too much work. They have at least five others, and that’s five too many.
Yes, this is a great plan, and Spindle is a great planner. This is why they’re plotting more, writing down evil, genius plans for how to solve Sword’s problem. He will reject every single one of them, and they’ll rip up all their plans in a fit of despair. And do it again maybe. Genius. They’re so smart.