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Spindle still isn’t used to walking the streets of Craterdust Capital. The air, honestly, is a bit stifling. Whether from the general dust—most the fault of Splintered Skies, honestly—or the tension. They don’t know why things are tense today, but Boombox had warned them in advance. Didn’t specify at all, just told them it’s best not to linger or stare, just in case.
They’ve been here plenty of times before, really. The region itself isn’t that bad. Plenty of inspiration has been found here. And from inphernals from here. So they’re well aware there’s just something going on today. Which is fine. The purpose for being here is… well, Coil.
No matter the circumstances, or how hard someone is to find, Spindle is dedicated. Each Phighter will receive a gift on their spawnday. They’ve done well so far. Admittedly, they do also have to try to not seem biased in their gifts, since they… work for Flipside? Technically? They’re an independent business with collaborations. It’s—not important.
Despite that, they definitely have preferences in Phighters. Friends with some, neutral on others. Especially close with a certain few. Incredibly close with one. Coil… is hard to pinpoint. Are they friends? Spindle is definitely close with Skateboard and Boombox, but Coil seems to tolerate them at best. Which is fine; they aren’t particularly inclined towards him. Friends by proxy? He’s… alright. Perhaps they’d be more opinionated if they were closer? Eh.
Eventually, they made it to where they were going. Some alley that leads somewhere that they don’t care about. They’re just here to catch Coil on his way out of wherever this goes. Some underground place. About five minutes early, Boombox told them that they should look busy if they show up early, just in case. Sure. Whatever the fuck that means. They goof off on their phone, barely glancing at the beat up, bulked up inphernals that go past them. Like, Swords above? Do these inphernals spend their entire lives building muscles or something?? Why???
Thankfully, it’s hard to not notice someone like Coil. He dresses quite brightly for a reason. So they put their phone back into their pocket, gliding out into the alley, out of the little alcove they found. He doesn’t even glance at them, clearly already aware they had been there. Assumedly why they were supposed to seem busy. Anyone coming out of the alley would be all too cautious about someone waiting actively for a specific person to come out.
“Ha—”
“Happy spawnday, Coil!”
…This jerk! They hate to admit it, but it’s a decent impression of their voice. Shocking, considering the two sound nothing alike.
Still, they manage a customer service smile. Not immediately jumping to anything playful, just in case. “Yes. Happy spawnday, Coil. I was going to give you a present, but I fear I have changed my mind.”
He laughs, stretching his arms above his head. They glance at his face, idly, catching the smug grin and the bruises. Hm. They check out the rest of him. More bruises, that’s bleeding… some sort of fighting, though likely not phighting, since he isn’t all healed up. And he’s… his… right eye is…? They think it’s his right. They’re also squinting up at him very obviously, trying to figure out what they’re looking at.
Which means they completely miss the warning before getting flicked on the forehead. They flinch back with a squeak of pure fear, eyes wide. Until he laughs, and they glare at him. “What is your problem, Coil?!”
“What’s yours? Didn’t know you were so weird about staring, Spindle.” Acting like it’s nothing, he wipes at his eye.
“You’re walking funny. Your eye is… wet. You’re bleeding. Bruised up. I’m staring because I’m concerned, Coil.” They pause, sigh, frustrated. “No, that sounds like I’m your caretaker. I don’t care about you fighting people. That’s your business. I’m concerned about the other parts.”
He doesn’t immediately respond, just keeps walking, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his hoodie. His expression is unreadable, as per usual. It’s either hidden layers of emotion or cockiness. Unless their favorite dumbasses are… saying something stupid. The two share quite a few looks of concern over that. How Coil managed to handle being around inphernals so incapable of using their brains by himself… Spindle could barely handle it for a week. There’s a level of solidarity between them over this. “I’m fine. Did something dumb, I don’t need you to chastise me for it.”
They shake their head. “Wasn’t planning on it. Just curious on what you did, because you seem a little… out of it.” For a few seconds, there’s silence. Then they continue. “Would you like something to… wipe at your eye with?”
A shrug, noncommittal. “You gonna waste some fancy shit on it? Otherwise no.” Jerk.
Since it’s his spawnday, they just sigh. Grab out the fancy, embroidered handkerchief they carry around just in case. Deposits it into his waiting hand, watching, mildly disgruntled, as he also deliberately gets blood on it. A white handkerchief. They already know he’s going to give it back, and they’re going to have to hold onto it until they get home, and they can recycle the usable scraps. Gross!
Which is quickly proven right. Instead of him stuffing the bloody spot right into their waiting hand, like they had expected, however, he deliberately makes sure the mess doesn't touch them. It's odd. Weird, even. "Thanks." Alas, if they mention it, he might spit blood on them or something. That's an exaggeration, he wouldn't. Right? They're not actually sure.
Another shrug. He loves shrugging or something. "Whatever." More silent walking. Which is fine, it just means he isn't shooing them away from wherever he's going.
Eventually, he speaks up again. "Doin' your usual routine, Spindle?"
"Huh?"
"Following people." He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
They just stare up at him blankly, zero clue what he's talking about. "Huh?"
He stares down at them. "…Spindle. C'mon. You talk to someone and follow them around like a lost puppy the whole time."
Wow. What? "I do NOT! That's me—um. It's… because I have to follow customers around in my shop."
Snort. Nudge that almost sends them flying. Where are the arm tubes. They're so scared. This is scary. The holes. Eye-level. "Yeah, you do. Also, you sit at the counter the entire time you're working, don't lie to me, Spindle."
"I get up! A lot! Fixing displays, realigning clothing, measuring customers, offering assistance…" They trail off, gasp, and stop walking, glaring up at him and dramatically stomping their foot. "No! Coil! You're so mean!! Tricking me into ARGUING! You are not worth my time and effort, as you are impossible to persuade."
That gets a laugh out of Coil. Spindle grins, catching up to him quickly, finally remembering to stuff the handkerchief back into their pocket.
Like the asshole he is, Coil sets his hand on their head. This is how he teases them for being short. In the way they can't retaliate about because they seem insane for it. "I didn't 'trick you into arguing', you did that yourself. I suppose I can believe you on getting up, since I've only come in your little boutique… twice?"
"Yep. You're not even a regular, Coil. What a shame, what a shame. No wonder you dress the way you do."
"…You can't get onto me about how I dress when you're friends with—"
"The way you dress fits you, Coil. I won't deny that. I just meant that you aren't fancy."
More silence while the two walk, this time it feels comfortable. Which is surprising, since Spindle usually finds silence frightening and terrifying. It's… nice. Being able to be in the quiet without feeling the need to fill it. Most inphernals they know don't give them that. Mostly because all their friends are at least relatively high energy. Except Skateboard. He used to be more… excited, but he's recently been so low energy.
Have they seen him at all recently?
They almost ask Coil about Skateboard, if he's seen him at all recently. Obviously he has, right? They're close. Coil was staying with him recently, on-and-off. But from what Boombox vaguely told them, it seems like the two got into an argument or… something.
…How? That—it doesn't make sense to them. Skateboard is so hard to get into a fight with, and Coil tends to be too smart to actually argue. He always knows what to do and say, or at least that's how it seems to them.
"Moping? On my spawnday?"
Spindle blinks a few times, trying to focus back on reality again. "Huh?"
Coil sighs. "Nevermind." Almost awkward. On the cusp of making them feel the need to die for being bad at socializing. "I was almost disappointed when you didn't show up at midnight, you know. Heard a bit about you doing that?"
"…I didn't know anyone was… talking about that." Embarrassing. Maybe they should drop the bit, even though it was fun… they were kinda committing crimes with that. "You, um. I have no clue where you live, and you're obviously not gonna tell me. So I decided to just… ask Boombox about finding you today."
He nods, almost like he cares about their shitty explanation. "I've heard a bit about it. Thought you know everything?"
…Is he teasing them again. "I don't misuse my powers for that type of stuff, Coil. What's the fun in knowing where your friends live if you—" They freeze. Are they friends? They never asked. They know they're friends with Boombox and Skate because the two have referred to them as a friend before, but—
"Damn, I thought we had something special, Spindle. You won't misuse your powers for me? It's over between us."
Oh. Okay, they didn't overstep. He's encouraging this. "Good riddance. This is my elaborate plan so I don't have to betray my faction for you, as I am secretly a Blackrock scientist. This is farewell, Coil, live with love."
That makes him crack, just a bit. Snickering, turning his head to the side, then shaking his head lightly. "That movie was shit, holy hell. I can't believe Boombox likes that crap."
"You cried when the dog died."
"So did you?"
"Yeah, but I cry easily. You're Nonchalant Never-Bothered Coil. Crying over a doggy actor that got tons of treats between scenes."
"That dog was a better actor than half of the inphernals there, no contest."
Spindle cracks and laughs, almost falling against Coil before he pushes them back upright. It's easy to talk to Coil, which is so strange for how intimidating he is. Perhaps it's because he takes very little seriously, so they don't think on their words. Well, they never do, no thoughts at all while they talk, but… it's more of… not overthinking what they said after saying it? They're overthinking their own thoughts now.
Coil stops walking, and puts a hand on their shoulder so they'll also stop, immediately removing it afterwards. "Welcome to my favorite spot to sit down and heal up after a match in the ring. This is proof that you've passed the final test to prove you deserve to join The Gang."
They almost take him seriously for five seconds. "Being trusted with bux to buy group snacks doesn't count, then? Wow, you guys just hand your money to any chump that comes along?"
"Only the ones that are naive enough."
They swat him on the shoulder for that one, then start to take in the scenery. It's really just some sort of decently clean area under a half-collapsed building. Stable, specifically because the building collapsed against another building. Yeah, seems like a private enough spot to heal up, considering the proximity to where he gets into… the ring? Oh. Boxing? They think. They barely know any terminology, just what they've picked up from being around their friends. "Well? Heal up, loser. Or… well, I'm gonna assume winner, since you aren't frustrated."
"Since when could you figure out emotions, genius?" Coil retorts, even as he slides down against a wall, summoning his gear, switching it to… green. Okay, they don't exactly remember the names right now. Not their gear, not their problem. Healing is just… so interesting, though, so… well, no, they shouldn't watch, because that's weird. They wonder if it would be possible for them to heal others, basing it off of Coil's tethering… like some sort of healing bracelet. It would be weak, unless they spent an insane amount of time and energy on it, but it's theoretically possible…
"Yo. Spindle. Quit being weird." Once they look at him in bewilderment, he decides to grace them with an explanation. "You're makin' that face again."
Dramatic sigh. "Fine. I'll stop my very logical and scientific thought process." Instead, they dig into their bag, and throw a protein bar at him. It's a completely miss, but he moves to catch it easily. "I, um, my gear uses a lot of energy, so I… you know. Carry snacks around. Figured you could use one, since you're…" they vaguely gesture towards him, his gear, the healing. "You know."
"…You're lucky I actually know." Coil's unwrapping the snack, movements almost… timid? Definitely slower than usual. When Boombox or Skateboard hands him a snack, he tears into it like… well, a dog. Now he's like a dog sniffing a suspicious treat. Perhaps Coil is just a big, nonchalant dog? That would be an easier way to think about him, make him less scary. But it doesn't feel right. Like putting a circle peg into a square hole. It'll go in, but you know it's not the right hole for that peg. "…Sit down. What are you, a vampire?"
Proving the accusation, they go over to the wall as well, a respectable distance away from Coil, and sit down. There's an immediate snicker from him. "What??"
"How are you comfortable like that?"
They glance down. They don't see it. "What do you mean?"
"There's—Spindle. You're covered in random nonsense, and some of it is very clearly poking you."
"Those are called accessories, Coil. None of it is poking me." Totally subtly, they adjust some of the smaller ones that are, in fact, stabbing into them. Unimpressed, smug look from Coil. "…Beauty is pain. You wouldn't know that, ugly."
Fake offended noise, and he crumples the wrapper just to throw it at them. "Excuse you! I am the prettiest inphernal in the entire Inphinity! You're just mad you have to dress up to mimic a fraction of my beauty."
"You're just mad that you're chopped, Coil."
"You're just mad that you're—aw, that joke doesn't work with you. Hang on, I have a better one. You're just mad that you're a walking alarm."
…Their outfit is a bit jingly today.
And they don't really have a counterclaim. So they shrug, sigh, lean back against the wall properly. "I am joyous. Splendid. Flourishing. Happy spawnday, Coil."
"You already said that. Does that mean I get my present now?"
"I didn't say that. You interrupted me. I guess you get your present now."
Coil cheers, shifting a bit closer as Spindle digs into their bag. "I'm expecting some dumb novelty gift, if it isn't that I'll riot."
They freeze. Crap. "…Depends on what you deem 'novelty gift'." It's folded up, and the reason their bag is so lightly packed today, and they slowly pull it out. Handing him the small pile of fabric. "It's clean, so don't get it dirty trying to look at it."
With a snort, he slowly stands up, unveiling the shirt. Shock is actually written on his face. Probably because they basically made merch of him. Cerbeus logo on the back, says RELEASE THE BEAST on the front in the most comical font they could mimic, flames and everything. The main color of the shirt is orange, as close to the orange of his hoodie as they can get. They hope it's the right color. They're in a strange limbo of seeing more colors than the average inphernal and red is really hard to see. Anyway, the flames on the shirt are blue, RELEASE is green, THE is red, BEAST is purple. His colors! Logo on the back is an ombre of the three colors. They're fully confident these colors are correct, except the red. They can see all the other colors incredibly well. Not even colorblind. They just can't see red. Like a moth. Hey, wait a minute. They should look into that later, might be related to—
Coil's laughing. Like, genuine, actual, intense laughter. Hunched in on himself, clenching the shirt like his life depends on it. Oh, yeah. It's sleeveless, since he seems to prefer shirts like that for… obvious reasons. Tubes. Coils. Coils he's still healing with. Their new theory is that the tubes may help with the healing, because this seems slower than usual. Like… pumping juice into them to make them be the different coils? They won't ask, because he refuses to share.
Eventually, he recovers enough, turning to grin at them. "Holy fucking shit, Spindle. This is way better than I expected. No wonder you've been squinting at me a ton lately. The colors are…" He glances at the shirt, then at them. Pauses. "Perfect. Exactly spot-on, actually." Paranoia leads them to believe he is lying.
"You can be honest, Coil."
"…What the fuck is this color." Pointing at their red. "I can tell this is supposed to be red, since everything else is my colors, but… what? Is this?"
"…Red."
"No. It's not red."
"…It's not?"
He pauses, snickers, and shakes his head. "You can't even—Skate's red. He's entirely red. All he wears is red. His horns are red. And you see him as this color."
Oh. Wait. That's really funny actually. "Sorry. I, um, I can kinda see red slightly, especially under… certain lighting conditions. If we covered Skate in some sort of UV stuff, I could see him better."
That gets another pause. "…Spindle, what."
"I see UV colors. You have no clue what flowers really look like."
Yet another pause. This time, he huffs. "You know what? Not the weirdest thing about you." Pause. "What color am I?"
"You have the color evidence in your hands. My only problem is with red. And I guess kind of purple. Orange too? Anything that has red."
"…How do you make clothes if you're…?" A genuine quesiton, actually. Huh.
"UV."
He snickers. "So I stick a UV light on—"
"No. I—it's hard to explain. I mimic the UV color onto normal fabric. So it's just… a different version of the colors, I guess? It should look something like the color to inphernal eyes… it also tends to attract pollinators."
"Huh. That's…" He stares at the shirt some more. Cocky grin back in place. "Sick. I like this ugly red, then. It's basically sad yellow, Spindle."
Huh. Well, that explains a few things. "Noted. I can fix it if—"
"Don't you dare."
"Yes boss."
Awkwardly, they dig in their bag again, timidly holding up an actual fabric scrap. "Here. I also made this. Basically… a jacket patch? So you can slap your logo stuff on anything, if you sew it in. I can sew it in if you need me to. No cost, no charge. Fully free spawnday present."
When he takes it, he's oddly careful while putting it into the pocket of his hoodie. "Yeah. I'll do that." And he's… shifting in place. Not directly looking at them, and they believe his jaw might be clenched? It's hard to tell. They don't have the best vision detail-wise. Movement and light is how they see, colors are… less important? Funny, considering they're a seamstress, and their whole job is colors.
"…Can I ask a… weird question, Coil?"
"Already did. Go ahead."
"Did you and Skate get into an argument?"
Well, now they're certain his jaw is clenched. "Sorry, I can, um—you don't have to answer—"
"Skate's being dumb as fuck right now. Assuming he isn't talking to you, either, then?"
"…Is he… not talking to anyone?" Well, now they're less terrified that they messed everything up or something.
Coil shakes his head, desummoning his gear and grinding his jaw audibly. "No. He stopped talking to Boombox first, which is weird since they're—were so close. Fought with him and told him to stop talking to him. Stopped… being Skateboard, too. I asked him about it, and he started—" A sharp exhale, and he leans back against the wall with too much force, enough to push impact throughout his whole body, a jerk that he doesn't even seem to register. "We fought. I told him I wasn't going to take that and for him to stop talking to me."
"Oh." It's not a good response, and Spindle fumbles for a better one. "That's… not good. Really. It sounds like he's… isolating himself."
He stares at them for a second, nods slowly. "That's what I'm thinking, too. His spawnday's comin' up—five days after mine, bet you remember—and he's been silent on plans for a month. Nothin'. Even when we ask and try to help plan something. I haven't said anything to Boombox because he's fully crushed over this and trying to act normal, but—" Another sharp exhale. His hands are clenched at his sides, and he seems to be holding back from some form of violent outburst. Usually he isn't so… restrained. "…I don't know what to do." Quiet, defeated.
They don't immediately say anything, because they're running through everything this could be, settling on something they don't quite like. "I do know. I'll talk to him. I just need time to plan, so—his spawnday. Depending on how it goes, I may need a favor out of you. I'll help. I can—help. It might not fix anything, I doubt it will, but it's… it'll be better than what's happening."
"Do you… think he's…?" It's so odd hearing Coil like this. Out of his element, lacking his usual control. Taking something seriously. Uneasy.
"I don't know. I think it's… likely. Either way, I'm good at breaking in, there's a 'reason' for me to be there, and… he can't get rid of me. Nor does he know how to, since we haven't been friends for that long." He wouldn't know what would drive them off. His current plan is probably hoping they don't care enough. Or he assumes they don't. "If this doesn't work, that's where the favor comes in. We gotta keep him from isolating. It's… not good for him."
Coil sighs, harshly, staring up at the dusty crumbled ceiling. "Fuck."
They can't blame him for how he's reacting. They know there's more to it, more to him, but they don't understand him. There's a fundemental separation between them, a rift that can't really be crossed. It's the opposite of what they have with certain other inphernals, the fundemental understanding that breaches usual boundaries. Like Boombox. Yet at least Boombox seems to comprehend Coil.
So they stand up, walking over to Coil and putting their hands on his shoulders, looking up at him in firm determination. "Nothing will happen. If I have to, I'll kidnap him and lock him up in my shop. The second floor. Where I sleep. Sorry, that's—detracting from my point. Um. Shit. Where am I. Uh. Nothing's gonna happen. I'll make sure of it. He's—not going to isolate." Neither of them are really willing to say it, what's going on. What they're trying to prevent here. "I promise, Coil. It's going to be okay. Maybe not right away, but it will happen. We'll make sure of it. You, me, Boombox, Slingshot."
Trying for his usual behavior, he grins at them. Cocky, but so… off. Tense. "Since when were you a motivaitonal speaker?"
"I try when I have to."
Slowly, he turns his head away from them. Hiding how lost he looks. "I'll trust you on that. Nothing will happen."
Spindle doesn't push it, instead moving away from Coil again, even facing away from him, so he doesn't feel a need to hide. "You should. Nothing will happen." They're both trying to reassure themselves on this. "Pattern recognition makes me think nothing would happen until after his spawnday anyway."
"Don't say that."
"Sorry."
They can't blame him for being so against what they said. What they implied. That he was waiting until all the spawndays passed to—
"I'm going home, Coil. I have… plans to draft. About Skateboard. Stay safe. I'll keep you updated on how it goes, okay?" They know he's worried, even if he doesn't quite know how to say it. Even if it's… new to him, to worry about someone other than himself. It's possible he didn't think he could until this situation happened.
"You too."
Once they start to walk off, he calls out, "thanks, Spindle."
That's new. Coil isn't a please and thank you inphernal in the slightest. They just nod, and keep going. Putting attention on it would probably make him uncomfortable, if they had to guess.
Spindle brainstorms the whole trip home, writing down the information they have and any ideas they come up with. None of it is good enough. They have five days. It feels like some insane deadline instead of a spawnday they had been excitedly planning for… for months?
They don't even bother coming up with a pattern for Coil like they usually do after these spawnday celebrations, just putting it on their To-Do list. Instead, they sit at their desk and write and write and scratch out what they've written and summarize a list of ideas and write and write—
Until they pass out at their desk from a lack of energy.