Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This is inspired by the moment in the episode "Jerry" where Scarab tries to convince Orbo to be on his side and Orbo just said "nice speech, say goodbye to your legs." which made Scarab shriek before the phone cut them off. Ofc Scarab's like immortal or whatever, but Orbo was just straight up abt to seemingly permanently disable him before the plot stepped in, and the fear from Scarab made me wonder if Orbo had like done that before- then what if that's why Scarab is so strict with his job, because what if he's forced to be without room for mercy or mistake.

I went to observing the canon, and well obviously he currently has his legs. Scarab Beetles usually have 6, yknow like a normal bug, so you might jump to the conclusion that 2 could be missing since he only has his humanoid arms and legs, however in his bug form each bug does have a full 6 legs. He is also shown in the final fight to morph an extra pair of arms, so he clearly still has all 6 arms/legs. Now the big part that I realized about Scarab Beetles is that they always have wings. Something that he clearly doesn't have in either human form, and if he did have them in his bug form under the shell he would have used them to escape cake's raised wall trap in the episode Casper & Nova.

So in conclusion I now headcanon that Scarab had previously gotten in trouble for some sort of disrespect of authority and Orbo just fucking took/destroyed his wings resulting in his strict rule following bc he fears further punishment, and it also would lead him to having even more reason to be pissed and trying to take it out on Prismo doing something not allowed bc he'd also be jealous that prismo is always getting off scot free.

I’d love to see anyone’s fics or fanart to come from this idea, so if ya decide to make anything it’d definitely be awesome if you lmk so i can check it out :)

Chapter Text

The music blasted at just the right volume to make the conversation of others indistinguishable, yet fail to actually allow listeners anywhere close to figuring out what song it could possibly be playing. Scarab stared down the floor as he continued his futile effort to clean it. The lights flashed, reflected from the disco ball Prismo had summoned on the— for the moment— ceiling.

The other entities talked and danced about with no care for the former god auditor turned lazy man’s janitor. How he despised the insult of working under Prismo, his rival, of all beings. Much worse is the fact it was only with Prismo's good word that he ended up here instead of having to face a likely worse punishment. Scarab grumbled to himself, oh how life just loved to spit in his face with irony.

A sudden crash was heard, leaving Scarab instinctually forced to snap out of it and look up to assess the possible danger. However, of course it was just some nobody god deciding it was totally fine to launch themself onto the weak plastic folding table containing all the snacks. Scarab let out a grimace when he realized that he would likely be the one that had to clean that up.

Now out of the cleaning trance he was in, Scarab looked back down at where he was sweeping and realized the broom had likely dematerialized the last spec of spilled drink long before he had looked up. Scarab released the tension in his shoulders as he stopped idly sweeping and let out a sigh.

He felt incredibly undignified having just spent who knows how long staring off and sweeping while all the other gods that should fear him could have noticed his incompetence and made him a laughing stock. No, that’s not true, he was doomed to be a laughing stock the second he was forced to the 2nd dimension to work under Prismo. Maybe Prismo's incompetence was simply spreading somehow, through the walls of their now shared 2d space.

Scarab was just lucky that no one so far had seemed to notice or care about him being there. He likely just blended in with the led lights circling all over the walls. Actually, now that he thought about it, Prismo had claimed this party was for him. Really he had described it as more like an actual pity party “to make up for the fact you’ve never been to one before!” he had enthusiastically reasoned when first telling Scarab about his idea.

Scarab saw through his lies though. From the start he knew it was really just an excuse for Prismo to resume his reckless and irresponsible partying habit. Of course Scarab had immediately shut down the idea of being any part of it, but Prismo annoyed him ceaselessly until he agreed to attend in the main cube rather than wait it out with the time core.

As much as Scarab hated the idea of being there, he had reasoned that he could at least get a head-start on the clean up process.

Finally, Scarab began to wander the walls, searching for a less obvious thing to clean than the newly-destroyed table and snacks. As he continued walking he unfortunately, yet-inevitably, came across Prismo stretched upon the wall. Prismo was smiling like the damn fool he was as he looked upon the sea of similarly pathetic gods wasting their time with frivolous mortal activities.

Scarab glowered at him before making the decision to simply turn around and search back in the other direction. He hated the idea of having to confront him for such a weak request to move so that he could continue on his way. Especially since Scarab knew that Prismo wouldn’t leave him alone if he so much as makes a peep of conversation.

Unfortunately for him, Prismo noticed before he could make his straightforward escape.

“Scrabbyyyy! Where ya been man? I couldn’t spot you interacting with anyone.” Prismo stated as a matter of fact, which to his credit it was.

“Like you care.” Scarab responded cold and professional as ever.

“What? Of course I care! I threw this party for you in the first place.” Prismo contested. Tch, typical. Scarab knew better. He knew that Prismo clearly only acted out of selfish want. Fionna and Cake were prime and clear cut evidence to that.

“Oh really?" Scarab looked back, a challenge in his voice. "Tell me then Prismo, did you ever specify on your invite that the party was such?” Scarab knew he hadn’t. He’d been made to assist while Prismo created copies which forced him to read over and over that it was really being sent out as ‘Prismo’s Return from Partying-Haitus Party’

“What??" Prismo said with shock. "Dude! You’re the one that said you didn’t want to be celebrated for, as you said, ‘Being Stuck in a Place of Pure Misery.’” Prismo retorted with unhidden annoyance in his voice.

Scarab pondered, only for the briefest of moments, before deciding to make Prismo reveal Scarab’s already-known truth. “Say, Prismo. Did you ever even mention, to anyone at all in this party, that I might be in attendance?” Scarab accused, hoping that his questioning look would show clearly on his 2d face.

Prismo’s eye widened in shock. Clearly, as he already knew, he was correct, so Scarab continued his accusations, “Or what about the fact that I was even here at all for my punishment?” Scarab got him now.

Prismo responded with clear exasperation. “What?!? I thought you were the one that was all ‘oOoOOoh nOoo. I don’t want to be at the party at all, how daAare you even suggest that.’ Like dude!” Prismo takes a breath to calm himself before continuing. “I didn’t say anything because I assumed you didn’t want anyone to know. Would you rather I announce it to every-“

“No.” Scarab interjected with the full confidence of someone in a position of power.

“Then what the heck are you even complaining about?!” Prismo questioned in confusion. Good. He doesn’t deserve the ease of this conversation going at all his way.

“I was simply disproving your false statement that the party is in any way for me.” Scarab hummed, pleased to have taken the upper hand in the conversation over Prismo. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave me alone. Because unlike you I fulfill my job first and foremost, even if it is just continuing to pick up after your mess.”

Prismo opens his mouth to protest, but all that comes out is a “Wh-“ before he pauses and seems to make up his mind “Whatever man. If you want to be lonely so bad, that’s on you.” and finally he resigns to continuing the conversation any further.

Scarab smirked, he had clearly won this conversation. Finally he turned away, clutching the broom in confidence.

Hah, Prismo’s a fool to think for even a moment that Scarab wasn’t above such frivolous things like company or friends. He’s fine on his own, better even. He gets his job done much more easily when there’s no needless distractions. Especially from someone in a ‘higher position’ to him, they always manage to get in his way with their demands and contradictions. Things might actually get done if he was allowed to properly carry out his work in peace.

Scarab finds himself becoming more and more tense at the thought of those above him. His grip on the broom tightens, but he restrains himself from snapping it like the twig it was to him. Finally he locates another spot to clean away from others. Back faced away from the room’s corner, and essentially continuing to blend in with the lights and shadows.

Once again he continues his mundane sweeping, but this time decides it might be safe to observe just how reckless the gods become at a party of Prismo’s. He may no longer have the power to hunt them all down like he normally would be tasked to, but it is especially in a time of weakness that gathering information on the enemies is necessary. Most importantly which of them may potentially pose an actual threat, had he still been in his actual body, and what their weaknesses were. Seeing as he was limited in his current ability to interact with anything outside the 2d plain, emotional weaknesses and instability would be the most useful. It always helped calm him to gather information on those around him. Something in the knowledge that he could figure out a way to get to them in a way that would give him an advantage just put him slightly more at ease.

Ultimately all he’s been able to gather is that they’re all suckers for Prismo. He has them wrapped around his fingers, and doesn’t even seem to realize the power he holds over them because of it. Everyone’s Pal Prismo, putting up this false charade of purity. Why couldn’t they see it? No, that isn’t what’s going on. They have seen his incompetence, they were experiencing it this very moment. Prismo's pointless parties not only distract himself from his duties, but everyone who attended them as well. Scarab's mood contorted into anger and frustration. Of course they didn’t snitch on Prismo, and would ostracize Scarab when he brings it up, they cared about wasting their time. Really, they were all weaker than Scarab because he didn’t need breaks, he could carry out his job flawlessly, he was above these mission distracting “needs”. Unlike them, he had to be pleasing the higher-ups with his workload, and if he didn’t…

Snap!

Scarab startled with a sharp inhale, eyes wide with sudden adrenaline over the nearly familiar noise. His stance was that of a prey hearing the snap of a nearby twig when they thought they were alone, his hearing suddenly fine-tuned to the nearby noise rather than the party continuing to go on around him.

Finally after what felt to him like eons but clearly could only have been mere seconds, if anything, he looks at the broom to find he was the cause of the seemingly incredibly loud sound. Scarab calmed his posture before looking back up. He darted his eyes around the surroundings to ensure no one noticed his presence. Somehow, none of them did. Too busy caught up with themselves like each of them were the only thing that mattered. At least this defect of theirs would often have allowed Scarab easy opportunity in the past to egg them before they could even realize what was going on.

Finally, as the party resumed without pause, Scarab let out an exhale he didn’t realize he was holding. Wait. Why- was he holding his breath? They couldn’t do anything to him, even if they had noticed. Furthermore, he didn’t need to breathe, another thing that would previously be useful for avoiding detection by past targets. But… why would he hold his breath now?

He clearly wouldn’t get in trouble with Prismo for breaking the broom. If there’s one thing he could give Prismo the benefit of the doubt for, it’s that he wouldn’t actually care if Scarab got his job done or not.

Scarab receded from his position near the barely touched mess. It’d be no use attempting to toil away when the broom was cracked right through from both spots he held it to sweep. He supposes he could go to Prismo for him to fix it, but currently he’d rather die than have to confront Prismo with the pitiful need of the others powers just for Scarab to simply do his one job. It would be especially shameful after having just won the last conversation against the living roadblock.

Unsure of what else to do, Scarab simply goes back to watching the other gods party, now holding the pieces on the broom all in one hand.

On the opposite wall to him, he can see Prismo chatting with the Cosmic Owl. Scarab can feel himself scowl at absolute incompetence Prismo affected the room with. It’s probably better to continue looking around. He scans the room, at first spotting a few other gods that he knew were on the target list before Prismo and his insufferable creations Fionna and Cake ruined his job. However, before he could further anger himself with the thought of it, Scarab found himself once again freezing as he spotted a detail of someone amidst the crowd. a spherical white body occasionally rolling back and forth around the lower gods that surrounded him.

Scarab stayed still, unsure of how to react. This time, he was holding his breath on purpose. Orbo definitely already knows he’s here somewhere. He’s the main god that Prismo would have had to negotiate with for Scarabs punishment to not be ‘worse’, but really, he’d been put in an environment where he was doomed to fail in his work. Especially if Orbo was here. Now he could just easily decide to override his and Prismo’s previous compromise over Scarab’s fate and bring upon him something somehow far worse.

Scarab stayed where he was as long as could before noticing something absolutely horrifying: Orbo was slowly making his way through the crowd over in Scarabs direction. If he saw Scarab not doing his job because of a broom that he clearly broke, it wouldn't be good news for scarab.

This immediately kicked Scarab out of his frozen state into one of panic, adrenaline, and most shamefully fear. He released an embarrassing yelp like he seems to have been doing more often since during the chase of the crossover abominations when he had been faced with Orbo or the chaos god. Scarab hastily reoriented himself with his position in the time room to figure out that, lucky enough for him, the nearest hidden staircase was only a bit across the floor.

Broken broom still in hand so as to not leave any evidence, he swiftly scuttled over to the location of the stairway. He still wasn’t nearly as good as Prismo was at manipulating the time cube and things in it, but with what little ability he had he managed to pry the stairway open just a bit more than a small slit wide. Thankfully its width doesn’t matter, he’s ugh 2 dimensional now, but at least he wouldn't have to spend time morphing his body into a way that could fit.

As he begins to slip through, he hears what he’d been dreading. “Oi Scrabby, what’dya think yer doin over there?” Quickly Scarab slips the rest of the way the through the small crack in the floor, and immediately he works to close it behind himself before Orbo has the time to roll over and possibly shrink down far enough to fit through after him.

“Ayyy, what’dya doin down there? Last I checked yer supposed to be assisting Prismo” He successfully managed to close the opening, but could still hear Orbo continue talking through the flooring. “Ye better have a mighty good reason for hiding away down there when I get Prismo n he opens this stairway right back up.” Oh, he was definitely in trouble now.

Scarab’s eyes darted around the surroundings that the staircase had opened up to this time. Blocks floated around, and random walls littered the area, but there was no direct path continuing from the stairs that he could take. The stairs simply ended without connecting to anything else in the ‘room’. Scarab brought his 2d form across the stairway wall to the closest he could to the end of the stairs. He looked down to a seemingly and very possibly never-ending expanse littered with surfaces that most beings would have to use to get around. Scarab stepped back, and secretly praying he would be able to replicate Prismo, he attempted to jump down and traverse himself from surface to surface. Though the very moment his feet left the wall, his transition from disconnected surface to random different disconnected surface certainly ended up being a lot more like an oddly combined feeling of stumbling down stairs and falling into a seemingly bottomless pit at the same time. He’ll be damned if he were to ever admit it to anyone, but he just might’ve been the source of the faint, echoing, and occasionally cut off scream that would’ve been heard falling farther and farther away. If only the music didn’t drown it all out.

Chapter Text

Prismo nodded his head, probably along to the music, but no one could hear it well enough to tell. Taking a pause from his head-bobbing, he gazed upon the abnormally larger crowd for the first party he had thrown in a while. It was for a good reason that he had previously stopped, but now isn't the time to think about that. Really when Prismo decided to throw this party, he had just been hoping the cheery atmosphere might help make Scarab feel more welcome. Maybe he would even step out of his seemingly paper thin comfort zone and talk to someone else, but even Prismo somewhat realized who it was he was thinking about, he'd be lucky if Scrabby even did anything aside from being totally isolated cleaning in a corner.

Speaking of which, Prismo realized that he couldn't actually see Scarab anywhere across from him where he had last been seen. Surprised, Prismo looked around to notice that he was actually directly to Prismo's left holding his broom and just turning around to leave. Woah! No way, he actually moved!

“Scrabbyyyy! What have you been up to man? I couldn’t spot you interacting with anyone.” Prismo asked while already knowing that Scarab just wouldn't want to interact with anyone, and that it had nothing to do with how non-vigilant of a watch Prismo kept.

“Like you care.” Scarab responded coldly.

Ouch, you'd think after like a few weeks worth of time living together that Scarab'd warm up to him at least a bit. But what bothered Prismo more wasn't the tone of which he'd said his words, but the fact that Scarab didn't believe that Prismo cared about his new 2d companion. "what? Of course I care! I threw this party for you in the first place.” Prismo reminded the other.

“Oh really?" Scarab said looking over his shoulder as though Prismo wasn't worth his time. "Tell me then Prismo, did you ever specify on your invite that the party was such?”

“What??" Okay, now Scarab was just bullshitting him. "Dude! You’re the one that said you didn’t want to be celebrated for, as you said, ‘Being Stuck in a Place of Pure Misery.’” Ugh this guy's just being ridiculous. Like of all the points he could've tried to use.

“Say, Prismo." Oh no, he's got that smug ass condescending voice of his going on. The one Prismo's only heard when Scarab already knew what he was talking about. "Did you ever even mention, to anyone at all in this party, that I might be in attendance?” At this Prismo realized, Scarab had somewhat of a point there, even if Scarab's interpretation wasn't what Prismo had intended. “Or what about the fact that I was even here at all for my punishment?”

No-nono, Prismo was not letting this accusation slide. Scarab might be technically correct with what he was getting at, but he was taking it like- completely out of context! “What?!? I thought you were the one that was all ‘oOoOOoh nOoo. I don’t want to be at the party at all, how daAare you even suggest that.’ Like dude!” Oh flip, admittedly he might've lost his cool there. Okay, Okay, that's fine, deep breath- in... out... Okay, he could resume. “I didn’t say anything because I assumed you didn’t want anyone to know." Y'know what, maybe he had just assumed wrong, “Would you rather I announce it to every-“

"No." Huh??

“Then what the heck are you even complaining about?!” Prismo was becoming exasperated.

Scarab's eyes gave away a sort of glee. “I was simply disproving your false statement that the party is in any way for me.” Scarab hummed. His tone then did a 180 and returned back to being cold and demanding. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to leave me alone. Because unlike you I fulfill my job first and foremost, even if it is just continuing to pick up after your mess.”

“Wh-“ Prismo was in disbelief at this Glob-damned prick. “Whatever man. If you want to be lonely so bad, that’s on you.” Prismo crossed his arms and looked away. He refused to let this go on for any longer, it wasn't a good idea to put himself in even worse standing when he really just wanted them to be chill. Prismo let Scrabby walk off in the other direction. Hopefully if he just gave them both some time to cool off, they could calmly talk again later.

Prismo just went back to chilling around while the party continued on. After a short bit he noticed Orbo rolling in. Ughhh, who invited this guy? He even came in with some crowd of other rando gods that Prismo didn't actually know very well nor had he specifically sent them an invite either. Prismo had just hoped no one would tell Orbo about the party since the sphere's mere presence felt like a public disturbance. He was like, always bragging about stupid accomplishments and junk, and would just kill whatever vibe Prismo had going. Totally not cool. Hopefully if Prismo just kept the upper half of himself on the opposite wall to Orbo, he might just leave him alone.

Oh! Prismo spotted Cosmic Owl nearby. Talking to him would be a great way to ignore Orbo's presence. After all, Prismo's pretty sure that Orbo didn't like sticking around when Cosmic Owl pulled out the board games. Plus its been like- ages since they'd last hung out.

"Yo! Cosmic Owl," he called out while slipping around the rooms corner over to his friend. "Hey man, how ya been?"

Cosmic Owl fluttered himself around to be facing Prismo, "Oh, y'know the usual. Entering peoples dreams, making them come true, playing board games with myself." Cosmic Owl shrugged it off. "Anyway, where ya been man? You haven't called me in like forever." Whoops, yeah that may have been his bad.

"Ah, sorry dude. I was just- really... busy." He wasn't lying about being busy, but Prismo still felt bad for not at least calling to talk with Cosmic Owl sometime before the Fionna and Cake incident.

His friend shrugged. "It's all cool. I mean like you must've been goin through a lot since Jake passed, it only makes sense that-"

"Actually a bit more's been going on than that." Prismo butted in. He'd rather not continue the direction the conversation was going. "I was in some like- serious work trouble for a while" he confessed.

"Yikes, I've been there man. I could've gotten in big trouble last week cuz I accidentally let my dream tokens build up again. Luckily no god auditor showed up before I was able to get back on track." Huh, Prismo wonders if that might be related to Scrabby ignoring his work alert before getting zapped away. "So, what trouble did you get into? You grant someone an extra wish or somethin?"

Prismo inhaled through his teeth, "So- y'see I mayyyyy have been partially found out for making that unauthorized universe a few years ago." Prismo fake smiled in defense for having so majorly dunked up. "They kinda like- found a way to crossover and then I kindaaaa, sort've, mayybeee- ignored it for way too long." Glob it's embarrassing to admit how easily his screw-up could've been covered up before it even became an issue.

"Dude, how're you even still here??" Cosmic Owl was startled enough to be flapping his wings around as he questioned prismo.

"It's like a loooong story dude, but like I guess long story short Scrabby visited cuz of the alert and was able to like- almost immediately figure out what was up, so-" Despite Prismo rushing through his words, he was still interrupted.

"Wait, wait, what?! Like- Scarab?? How'd that jerk not KILL y-hoo?!" He hooted out with panic.

Prismo lifted his hands in defense, "Okay, okay, as I was saying- I panicked and gave the crossovers, Fionna and Cake, my remote because they like deserve life as much as anyone else!" Prismo just kept rambling, "So then I was all stuck on a dang cube, and a bunch of other junk kinda just happened! To the point that Fionna and Cake got their universe canonized!!" Prismo was finally able to take a breath, -Phew- "That was like a lot, and it still like- keeps going, but that's the gist man."

Cosmic Owl stood just in shock for a moment while Prismo gave another weak smile and shrug. His friend barely managed to form the words, "That's all just like... super crazy man."

While Cosmic Owl was clearly still processing everything Prismo had just dumped on him, Prismo spotted Orbo almost out of nowhere just rolling over to join them. Crappp, he looks annoyed about something.

"Hey there fellas. Prismo, could I talk to ya for a second?" Orbo questioned as though they were in some sort of formal work environment.

Prismo looked back and forth between Cosmic Owl and Orbo with clear concern on his face for the trouble he might be in for some unknown reason. "Erm, well- uhhh." He searched for words. "Would you be able to just talk here, right now?" Prismo suggested hoping that having his friend there could reassure his nerves.

"Sure, whatever, it doesn't effect the situation much anyway." Situation?? was there something going on that Prismo didn't know about? "Look, I just happened to notice Scrabby wandering off down the stairs lookin' awful shady, but he closed the floor before I could catch whatever exactly he was doing." Orbo paused, giving a quick uncomfortable glance at Cosmic Owl who now awkwardly stared at Prismo with his mouth agape and utterly dumbfounded. "Anywayy, I'm gonna need ya ta’ let me down there.”

"Erm..." Prismo now regretted not accepting Orbo's initial invitation to go somewhere that his friend wouldn't hear. He didn't want to just invade Scrabby's privacy by sharing the fact that he was also living here like it was some hot gossip. Prismo rushed to cover Cosmic Owl’s beak with a hand before the Owl could publicly freak out. after some frantic muffles and wing flaps Cosmic Owl was able to— somewhat— calm down. Releasing his friend, Prismo moved his hands to hold Cosmic Owl's shoulders more as a way to ground the other and hold his focus. "Look, dude I'll explain it later, Promise!" Prismo then quickly shifted his position away from Cosmic Owl to catch up with Orbo who was already rolling towards where the floor staircase was. "Look, I'm sure whatever he's up to is fiiine. Most likely Scrabby's just- uhm... making sure the random floating blocks are in order?" Prismo gave an anxious smile as he tried to reason Orbo off his back in a similar fashion to when he had needed to first hide Fionna and Cake from Scarab himself.

Prismo wasn't even currently doing anything that he could get in trouble as far as he knew, but the way that Orbo was talking about Scrabby, probably the biggest ever stick in the mud for rules, as though he needed constant supervision was just not sitting well with Prismo. Why was Orbo acting so strict? Had Scrabby often gotten in trouble before the Fionna and Cake incident? No, no, that's crazy talk. Everyone would've known about it if Scrabby had ever gotten in trouble with his job. He's like infamous for always following things to the letter even if it meant egging every target and making everyone both fear and despise him. That reputation's been following him since like- almost the very start of his career, and Prismo knew that Scrabby's public screw up that landed him stuck here would totally start spreading soon enough whether it be from Orbo or some other party-goer that could possibly notice Scarab's 2d form and start spreading rumors.

"I dunno mate, it sorta looked to me like he'd been carrying something broken. I think he's up to something." Orbo brought up.

Something broken? It must have been the broom, but- it was perfectly intact when he had talked to Scrabby just a few moments ago? What the dunk happened with Scarab while Prismo was catching up with Cosmic Owl? Whatever it was, it didn't seem like it could've been all that good, and now Prismo felt he had an actual reason to be worried for his new companion getting hounded after for what was probably just a silly misunderstanding.

Orbo stopped rolling as they now were at the closed off staircase. Expectantly, Orbo questioned "So?"

"Huh? Oh right- I gotta get... that." Prismo was about to just pull open the staircase and simply let Orbo go through, but some doubt had started to settle in. He wasn't entirely sure why, but Prismo just couldn't bring himself to letting Orbo go down there. "Hey so uh, y'know what? new plan!" He improvised, nerves probably obvious. Orbo seemed confused at this abrupt change in plan. "Okay! Uhhh, I just thought that... you should stay here!" Prismo stuttered before thinking up an excuse, "I mean like, you're totally the life of the party." Glob he was really just lying through his teeth. "You leaving would like- kill the vibe! and eh- clearly nobody wants that."

"hmm, I dunno mate. He can be a realll handful. I've gotten used to it, so it'd be no problem for me to just get him back on track." Orbo suggested. Eugh, why did that wording just sound so... wrong?

Then Prismo realized something, "Pfft, are you forgetting that I am the one that's supposed to be in charge of Scarab now? Is it that you're doubting I can handle this?" Prismo was ready to push this as much as he needed to get Orbo off his back, "Because I'd be totally willing to tell the boss that you’re going back on your decision to put me in charge of all this." Prismo grew smug, the boss was not someone either of them wanted to mess with, "I'm sure they'd just loooove to hear your doubts."

"OH, NONOno." Orbo blurted out. "That- won't be necessary. Just ugh- just go see what's up for yourself, but I expect a full explanation for his behavior when you get back." And with that Orbo rolled away back to his suck-up entourage.

Phew

Thank Glob he was able to get Orbo off his back. Although Prismo was fully justified to have done so, Orbo probably shouldn't be getting involved now that Scarab was working under Prismo. Regardless, Prismo would now have to leave his own party to see what was going on with Scrabby. For all Prismo knew, it might've been because of himself. Crap, what if his conversation with Scarab had made him feel unwelcome, or- or ugh, did he dunk up? Now a bit concerned, Prismo opened the staircase a little, let himself through, and closed it back up behind himself.

Looking around Prismo was surprised to see that the path didn't directly connect or continue anywhere, and despite this Scrabby wasn't here. Crap this really couldn't be good, he hadn't gotten around to teaching Scarab how to safely traverse across disconnected surfaces yet! Panic and worry finally started to seep in. He couldn't see Scarab anywhere nearby. Prismo slid himself all around the surfaces in the area, maybe he was just hiding behind one of the blocks? Ah crap where could he have gone??? Prismo jolted as he internally realized- With how fast you can travel hopping through the surfaces, Scarab could be anywhere, and with how the landscape was in near-constant movement that only Prismo had adjusted to and learned to manipulate, Scarab could just as easily get lost or stuck somewhere out there.

Craaaaap.

***

The sound of the landing crunch continued to wring out in Scarab's brain. With a grumble he began to shift from his position crashed upon the floor. It was oddly reminiscent of when he had previously fallen into Golb's domain, but as he checked over himself Scarab was pleased to see his arms and legs still attached and not lost elsewhere. Scarab hesitantly shifted up from laying on the ground to being projected standing on a connected wall. Now visible were various new dents and scrapes that covered his projected form. While Scarab thankfully had a high tolerance to pain, he was still managing to feel sore from his terribly poor landing. The feeling was about akin to what a mortal would expect to feel after tumbling down a hill covered in prickly bushes, so comparatively much more manageable than what Scarab would have to expect without such a pain tolerance.

Looking back up, Scarab could just barely notice the time room high above him as an incredibly far away speck. Thankfully the area that he ended up seems to have a much simpler to traverse path, and better than that, it's a path that he recognizes well. Scarab took in a breath hope and desperation for a break.

His body's healing function worked much faster at rest, though it came with the cost of being able to feel the pain exactly as it was without his high tolerance or nearly pain erasing adrenaline. It tended to come in handy, the delay of feeling pain, as it would often allow him to continue past a normal being's limits while going after various targets. It always came back to bite him, however, when he had to fully feel all the endured pain for it to heal. At least that temporary pain was still far better than a mission failure. Of course he still had his other option of healing, but it was unreliable for the pure sake of healing. That defense mechanism was only meant to be used to sponge highly intense damage in his most desperate times of need, and had the side effect of leaving him in a terribly weak state directly afterwards.

Wanting to make progress, Scarab took a step forward only to immediately fall back down onto his knees when his leg unexpectedly buckled. It would seem his body took more damage than he had initially taken for granted. Looking at the path ahead, he calculated it might take a few minutes to reach his newly decided destination for a safe recovery. Preparing himself for the struggle that was to come with piloting his bruised and broken body, Scarab somehow was able to brace himself against the very wall he was projected on. Once again he did the only thing he always knew he had to do when so severely harmed, and continued on despite his body's protest and heavy breathing.

Chapter Text

Prismo glided from surface to surface. Taking constant surveillance of the areas he rushed through in a search for any signs of Scarab. He had been calling out in hopes of a response, but had yet to hear anything back. As easy as it was for Prismo to navigate himself through various areas, it was much harder trying to locate some unknown factor to indicate which direction Scarab may have gone.

It definitely wouldn’t look good to the boss if he lost Scrabby so easily. What if they decided to move Scarab back to being a god auditor? Prismo like- just got the fresh company! No way he was ready to be completely alone in the time room, with only his thoughts to keep him company, for so long again. Sure, he could always invite Cosmic Owl to hang out with him, but that just felt like a meaningless distraction. With Scrabby, Prismo had so much to learn about him! He was honestly really intrigued with the former god auditor and always tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was why Prismo had put in a good word for him in the first place.

So far the closest Prismo had gotten to learning something about Scrabby was through the comments he would make while watching Prismo put together a story for both of them to enjoy. At this point Prismo would call it a win if he could get the other to open up even just a little.

Prismo’s form came to a halt upon a random surface. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his worries and think. He would need to actually focus on the task at hand if he was going to do this. Searching blindly clearly wasn’t yielding any results, so he should probably think his strategy through.

Okay, if he was Scrabby, where would he have gone? Well, travel would likely be going in a single direction, on account of probably falling between the blocks. This would likely only stop if Scarab could manage to grip a corner or simply transfer to landing on the top of a block rather than falling further down the side. Not to discredit Scarab’s abilities, but given what little experience he had being two dimensional, it was most likely that he would have to endure a crash landing.

Prismo cringed at the thought of a rough landing, but then he remembered who he was thinking about. Prismo had seen how much Scarab managed to withstand in his final fight against Fionna and Cake. He had only been stopped via getting egged, so surely he could probably handle a fall perfectly fine even if it did leave him with a few scrapes.

Back to the important thoughts, Prismo looked around to try and figure out which direction Scarab may have gone. Based on which way the staircase would have been facing, Scarab was most likely to have gone in the direction of Prismo’s… Right and downward!

Prismo scanned the blocks in that direction before swiftly projecting his form across them. Now he just had to find some sign of Scarab…

“Scrabby!” Prismo would repeatedly pause his movement in order to call out.

Prismo descended further and further to the point that the main time room could barely be seen far behind him. He called out once again, “Scrabbyyy!!!” Prismo waited to listen carefully for even the slightest reply.

Then he noticed something: Just a bit further down, one of the blocks that barely peeked out from behind another could be seen with a crater atop it. Yes, finally! This had to be the right area, he would’ve known if that Scarab-sized dent had been there before.

Prismo dashed down to where the crater lay. Admittedly he was a bit disappointed that Scarab wasn’t waiting right there for him. He really just couldn’t at least make Prismo’s job a little bit easier after just running off on him, huh?

Speaking of- Prismo decided to quickly fix the cracks and bends that Scarab’s landing had caused in the surface. It was rather easy given his control over this plane, but maybe Scrabby would appreciate it? After all, Prismo was almost certain that if he didn’t fix it Scarab would do the work himself despite it being unnecessary.

Hmm… now where would Scrabby go from here? Prismo doubts he’d just jump off further, and lucky for him the blocks seemed to have somewhat formed a simple path just moments before. Wait… that wasn’t just any randomly generated path, Prismo knew the parts of this structure stuck nearby for a reason.

Prismo’s mouth opened in a wide smile of glee. Scarab definitely went through there, and Prismo knew exactly where he’d have been heading. Of course! why didn’t he think of it before? He calmly made his way closer.

”SCRABBY!!! I know you’re probably in there! You aren’t in any trouble with me, I just want to talk!” Prismo called into the opening a bit further out as he crossed the mostly connected surfaces. The deafening ring of time echoed back at him as he entered. This was gonna be a headache.

***

Scarab had his knees hugged close to his chest. The broken broom lay on the floor to his right. Faintly he could feel his injuries heal, but avoided thinking about it in an attempt to ignore the blaring pain. Scarab had decided to focus on just the sound of the time waves being sent out. He stayed perfectly still and continued mentally counting the number of time waves that were sent out.

Two hundred eighty six….. Two hundred eighty seven….. Two hundred eighty-

“SCRABBY!!! I know you’re probably in there! You aren’t in any trouble with me, I just want to talk!” A distant call echoed in, interrupting his count.

Ah, so he’d been found. And of course, whether Prismo understood it or not, he just had to use that degrading nickname on him. Scarab remained motionless. He didn’t want to accept that his time at rest was likely up. His grip around his legs tightened and he hunched over slightly further. His exoskeleton provided the comfort of feeling safer, though he knew it would do nothing against Orbo. Perhaps being 2 dimensional would give him some protection when he would inevitably be forced to face the sphere.

Scarab saw motion out of the left corner of his eyes, and shifted his glare to focus on it. Prismo had just entered the room. Some part of Scarab hoped that if he just remained still and silent then he might not be noticed.

Another time wave was sent out. It momentarily caught Prismo’s attention, but just as soon as he felt an inch of hope he was then spotted by the other.

"Dude there you are! What the heck man, why'd you wander off without even telling me?! This is still your like- first month here, you could've gotten lost!" Prismo flailed his hands as a fidget while he spoke.

Scarab ignored the feigned concern. “Where is he?” he bleakly mumbled out.

Prismo’s form came to approach him on the wall. “Sorry, what was that?”

Scarab repeated louder, “Where. Is. He.”

“Who?” Prismo inquired shortly before coming to the realization by himself. “Oh wait, are you talking about Orbo? I got him to wait back in the time room. Although speaking of, he kinda demanded that I tell him what’s up.”.

Prismo was painfully nonchalant about it. Despite this, Scarab felt intense relief hearing that Orbo wasn’t about to possibly roll in at any second. He frankly didn’t care that he just barely relaxed his defenses from hearing that information. At least he didn’t care until Prismo immediately caught him off guard by putting a hand on his shoulder.

Instinctively Scarab yelped upon feeling one of his wounds receive the slightest pressure from the other’s gesture, and his entire form instantaneously jolted out of its rest. Before either of them could comprehend it Scarab had scrambled, almost tripping over the broom pieces, into now standing several feet away from where he had been. His arms were held in a panicked battle-ready stance and his eyes wide with panic.

A time wave was sent out as the two stared at each-other in a standoff. Scarab didn’t dare be the one to speak up first. He turned his stare into a questioning glare trying to gauge how Prismo would address the situation.

Prismo seemed just as shocked at Scarab’s reaction as Scarab had been to the touch. Prismo’s mouth hung agape. He must have noticed Scarab’s injuries. The arm that Prismo used to reach out had already been swiftly recoiled away from Scarab.

“Oh Glob man- I am… so sorry about that dude!” he began to slowly reach his arm back out in a cautious manner, as though Scarab would shatter at the slightest wrong move. “I just assumed you’d recovered from the fall and-“

“I’m fine.” Scarab cut him off, voice dripping with aggression. He hated the feeling of being pitied like some mortal that couldn’t defend itself.

“Fine? Dude! You reacted like I stabbed you!” Prismo’s arms flung upward in emphasis.

Scarab crossed his arms and fixed his posture to imitate being in a much safer position of power. “And? I can fend for myself, I don’t need any of your so called help.” He turned his face away, hoping to end it there.

“Fine.” Prismo huffed. “If you really don’t want my help then I’ll just have to bring you back up so that you can explain whatever’s going on to Orbo for yourself.” With this Prismo swiftly grabbed Scarab’s wrist with one hand and scooped up the broom pieces with his other.

“NO!” Scarab retaliated as his stance changed to one of panic. He dashed his body forward, partially held back by Prismo’s hand, and reached his free arm out in an attempt to knock the evidence out of Prismo’s grasp.

The time core sent out another wave, allowing Scarab to use the opportunity through his flailing to successfully knock a single piece of the broken broom to the ground. Prismo brought the rest out of reach. It was the tip of the broom that he knocked down, smoothly rounded on one end and sharply broken on the other. Scarab swiped the piece off the ground before stepping as far back as Prismo’s hold would allow, and held the broken end pointed towards Prismo as a makeshift weapon.

“What is wrong with you?!” Prismo continued to hold Scarab’s arm firmly as he began to wildly pull himself backwards in an attempt to get away. “I’m not letting go until I get an explanation!” Prismo now began pulling him back.

Prismo’s superior physical strength in the 2d plain led Scarab to being slowly dragged against his will. He attempted to resist, but what little was left of his composure was whittled away with every inch closer they got to leaving the safety of this room. A time wave was sent out, but even that didn’t help. In desperation Scarab even began kicking his legs against the ground in an attempt to escape backwards.

Inch by Inch, the sound of time passing got louder. Orbo was waiting for him. Another fit of ceaseless struggle, and louder the time waves seemed. Orbo expected an explanation that Scarab couldn’t give. Another hit of the time core, as a worse punishment awaited him. The sound of time rung and echoed in his brain along with the one remaining thought screaming between all his senses: run, NOW. ESCAPE.

Scarab looked down at the weapon he wielded, and took notice that his entire body was trembling. Doing his best to ignore it, he wildly swung the broom piece towards his foe as they slowly continued nearing the room’s exit. The flash of an idea going through his brain brought about a decisive swipe at the arm pulling him.

“Ack!” Prismo reacted to the minor scratch that Scarab had now inflicted upon him. He stopped bringing either of them closer to the exit to instead chastise Scarab, “Stop making this more difficult, I won’t be able to help if you don’t tell me how!”

“RELEASE ME!” Scarab urgently demanded of his captor. His faceplate instinctively shifted for him to give a horrifying hiss as he further continued his aimless swinging.

“Orbo’s expecting me to get back to him, I just need an explanation!” Prismo pleaded woth a tug, then continuing to inch them further towards danger.

Scarab’s attention rapidly shifted to searching for something, anything, to get him out of this situation. It stopped when he remembered the weapon that he still shakily waved around. That’s it! Scarab stopped both his swinging and pulling backwards to stare wide eyed at what he held in realization. It would work perfectly. Prismo had stopped the pulling again, likely from Scarab’s sudden change in demeanor. His arm trembled more as he thought of what he was about to do. He still had his last line of defense, and he was desperate enough to use it. Amidst the shaking, Scarab’s hand rotated the broom piece to grip it pointed towards himself

“Wait… wait- wait! Dude- Scrabby!?! What’re you do-“

Tw: SH (by technicality)

Within seconds that not even the time core could count, Scarab plunged his last hope through his chest. It hurt, but the important thing was that it got the job done. By forcing his form to endure such damage, he had successfully activated his last chance.

~

Scarab felt his conscience split as his body poofed into 3 separate 2d beetle bodies that scuttled upon the wall. No longer held back by Prismo, one instinct remained within them all: Run.

Chapter Text

OH CRUD!
Prismo went too far. He shouldn’t have- He didn’t mean to- Oh Glob, this was his fault. AHHHHhhh how does he fix this?

The overwhelming feeling of needing to puke quickly settled in. He wasn’t actually going to, but he still felt utterly sick to his stomach for how far this had gone.

The three 2d Scrabby beetles had meanwhile reoriented themselves with where they were and began to quickly scatter off. Oh boy that can’t be good. The beetles let out odd chattery noises as they ran. Prismo panicked, he didn’t know if it was safe to let them just leave, so he instinctively reached out again before abruptly correcting his approach. Ack- No more of that! it’s how he caused this in the first place.

One of them was headed straight for the exit opposite them. Prismo promptly closed it by extending the wall over it. The beetle stopped, turned to face him, and let out a clearly frustrated hiss. This is fineeee, he could fix this, he just has to keep everything in order. After all, how hard could it be to just watch over 3 bugs until Scarab feels like re-forming? Well apparently not hard enough because when Prismo turned his attention back to the the rest of the room there was now four slightly smaller beetles running around. What the- how did he? Before Prismo could figure it out for himself, he witnessed one of the beetles attack the one that he had stopped from escaping. Quickly that beetle was split in two along with the rest. Oh dunk this isn’t good.

Prismo went into action trying to separate the beetles to prevent them from splitting any further. he stretched his limbs all over the place to create barriers between the insects. Okay, head count we got one, two, three… six, nine… wait nine? They all seemed to be the same size, so if they each split equally then there should be 12! Prismo’s head whipped around to witness the last of the missing beetles scuttling their way out of the room through various small openings he failed to close.

DAMMIT! Prismo couldn’t go after them if he was too busy using his limbs to separate these ones. As Prismo tried thinking of what to do, he felt a sharp yet-small pain in his arm.

“Ow! What the-“ He recoiled his arms to observe the damage. There was a small bite mark from one of the Scarabs. It didn’t hurt much, and would definitely heal, but Prismo got the point. “Okay, look!” He announced to the remaining crowd, “I’m gonna go end the party, then I’ll be back to take care of whatever’s up with all of you." he briefly paused, "Do you got that? Cuz i cant entirely tell if you’re-“

An in-sync hissing came from a few of the beetles. It didn’t seem particularly angry like the hiss he’d heard before, instead it sounded more like a passive reply than an aggressive signal.

“Yeahhh so… I’m gonna take that as a yes.” Prismo freed the remaining beetles, allowing them all whatever free roam they wanted. Quickly they each scampered off in varying directions. He was going to regret this when he returned, wasn’t he? Regardless he somewhat trusted them to not go very far.

As he left the Time core’s room, Prismo found the scenery to have completely changed into one of hallways and rooms. At least he didn’t have to worry about the possibility of Scrabby falling. Plus he knew the general area to find the- many beetles again.

All too soon Prismo had already returned to the time room. He slunk his way back in, opening then closing the stairway behind him. The sight he returned to was rather expected considering his absence meant he couldn’t stop Orbo from killing the vibe. Much of the crowd had thinned out, though it had originally been much larger than normal due to the hiatus. Regardless, Prismo had a more important person to get back to, so he planned to make this quick. Getting everyone’s attention simply, Prismo lowered the music and cleared his throat. Most turned their attention, and he could see that both Orbo and Cosmic Owl were especially curious of what he had to say.

“Hey everyone, hahahh. Great party, yeah?” Members of the audience gave mumbled responses. “Wellll something came up and I’d rather have the whole time room back to myself while I work on it. Sorry to cut this short.” Prismo had to bite his tongue to not add some offhanded mention that Orbo had already flatlined most of the fun anway.

The various groups of gods resumed small chatter amongst themselves while making their way out of the time room. As some passed his head they had the manners to thank him for hosting the party. Prismo could notice Cosmic Owl hanging back. He honestly expected it, and made a mental note that he would have to actually explain the full story at some point.

What he forgot about though, was that Orbo would be expecting an explanation as well. Prismo had the misfortune of not realizing that until the sphere had already rolled his way over.

“Ohh, Orbo!… riiiight.” Prismo cringed.

“So? What was up with Scrabby, n’ what’s so important you ended the party early?” Orbo went straight to interrogating.

“Ah! Well y’see- Scrabby just went to uhmmm… get another broom!” Whelp now he’s gotta really sell it, “Yeah, his original one broke because it was… faulty...”

Orbo’s face remained blank before he interrupted the silence, “The second dimensional broom was… ‘Faulty’?” Crap, he totally wasn’t believing Prismo.

“Ohhhh yeahhh, I made it as a prank, and totally forgot about it till now.” Hell yeah, that’s totally something he’d believably do.

“Alrighty. Then how come he was in such a rush? Not to mention ignoring me when I asked what he was up to.” Orbo had an eyebrow raised in suspicion as he questioned Prismo further.

“Oh you know what he’s like with his dedication to doing his job efficiently. He was just in a rush to find another broom and get back to work. As for the not responding to you, I uhh…” The words up until that point were flowing perfectly, but he still had to take a moment of thought to finish his explication, “Y’know it’s probably because I gave him earbuds to listen to while working.” Prismo internally congratulated himself, that was some real good quick thinking. Externally, he was becoming smug at Orbo’s lack of words to further question the topic.

“Alrighty then, but I still wanna know what the 'situation' is.” Orbo declared.

“Hey man, I don’t think I like- need to tell you that,” Dang this guy was annoyingly pushy, “but if you must know it’s a matter of very important pickle making biz.” Prismo said it so matter of fact that he started to even believe himself, maybe he should bring back some pickles to share with Scarab?

“Oh...” Orbo seemed to have been bored at the thought of Prismo’s hobby, “Guess I’ll be on my way then.” With that he finally left the time room.

At this point I was just Prismo, Cosmic Owl, and all the mess left from the party. Cosmic Owl flew closer to Prismo expectantly.

“Heyyyyy” Prismo started off.

“What’s going on with you man? You’d never book a party at the same time as pickle making.” Cosmic Owl questioned, slight concern evident in his voice. “Not to mention Scarab apparently being here??” He added in a hushed whisper as though he would get imprisoned in an egg just for uttering Scarab’s name.

“Look dude, I promise I will explain everything to you later.” Prismo spoke quickly, in a rush to get back to Scarab. “Long story short: Scarab is working under me now. It’s related to what I was telling you about earlier, but right now I really need to go help him adjust.”

Cosmic owl gave Prismo a look of deep concern before responding. “When you resolve whatever’s going on, you better call me back t-hoo actually explain over some boardgames.” Cosmic Owl asserted, and really who was Prismo to argue with that?

“I promise dude. I dunno how long this is gonna take, but I’ll invite you over when I smooth things over.” Prismo said, glad at Cosmic Owl for not completely freaking out over it all.

With that assurance, Cosmic Owl flew his way out. A basic “Later dude,” was given with a mumbled, “good luck,” before he fully exited the time room.

Prismo gave a sigh of relief. He allowed himself a moment to relax in the peace of being alone. Ironic that he enjoyed it now, but really he knew it was just to delay having to face the consequences of what he caused. Glob dammit, he really should’ve just listened to Scarab in the first place. ‘Who doesn’t love parties’ he had thought. Stupid, stupid, STUPID. It was so obvious! Scarab had made it clear that a party wouldn’t help him feel better about being here, but noooooo he just had to throw a party anyway. Ughh he really just kept dunking up. Now what? Prismo wanted to make it up to Scarab, but he barely had any idea what the dude did in his free time. He was just always so busy working. It took a bit of thinking, but Prismo got an idea. Over the week of Scarab working for him, Prismo had found that despite Scarab having a taste for a generally incredibly darker sort of story, the two of them were able to collaborate in making their fanfic-y story together. Of course Scarab had the stipulation that Prismo never even think about trying to make it into another non-canon universe, but he honestly wasn’t planning on it this time. Yeah, maybe trying this could be a good start. He felt calmer having a plan to follow, now he just had to carry it out and hope it’ll work.

Prismo summoned his laptop. He took it in one hand and headed off back to the area that the many Scarab beetles would be scattered about. After going through a few hallways, Prismo found a good room to settle down in. It was just far enough away from the time core that he wouldn’t have to hear it ring. Lucky for him, there were already a few Scarab beetles inhabiting either the room or nearby in its various exits. Prismo moved across to the opposite wall and settled down, placing his laptop over his 2d lap and opening it up.

“Hey Scrabs!” He called to get the nearby beetles’ attention. When he saw that a few turned to face him he continued, “I’m going to work on the story we were writing. I’d appreciate it if you’d join me, even just as you are right now. It'd be helpful if you gave me whatever feedback you can.” Prismo wholeheartedly hoped that Scarab would respond well, but just in case he nervously added “No pressure if you’re not feeling up to it though! I’ll still be totally open to any future revisions you want to make when you’re ready.”

A few more beetles scuttled in, and about six total gathered near an entrance up on the wall to prismo’s right. They seemed to chatter amongst themselves. Prismo couldn’t understand what they might be saying considering it seemed that a majority of the sounds the bugs would make were mere reaction noises. He could feel his nerves grow with worry. What if this didn’t work and Scarab refused to forgive him?

Prismo tried to ignore his worries by opening up where they had the story saved and scrolling to the point they had left off on. Scarab’s character was Scar. As edgy as the name was Prismo had given him some slack considering it was his first oc, although Prismo also recognized that it was really more of a self-insert type character. He had decided to just go along with it, so his character was his own self-insert: Prism.

Prismo began recapping where they left off as he would normally, “Scar has just arrived at the scene of the murder. As a feared knight of the kingdom he was promptly permitted entry to investigate the alleyway.”

This definitely got the beetle’s interest as the group seemed to quickly decide to join him. They crawled across the ceiling to huddle at Prismo’s left. Prismo looked at them and couldn't help smiling in appreciation. The group kept a slight distance from Prismo, reasonably avoiding touching against him. Prismo noticed that it might make it a bit more difficult to see the screen, so before resuming he got the idea to summon a large blanket that would join them in the second dimension.

“Here.” Prismo said as he reached his arm to bring the blanket around the beetles. “You can use the blanket like sort of a barrier if you want.” He explained.

This seems to have pleased Scarab as the various beetles held the blanket around themselves and shuffled their way fully against Prismo’s side. Prismo found it to be absolutely adorable, and could barely hold back his glee over the fact that he seemed to finally be making some sort of progress. The group of beetles simply looked expectantly towards his laptop screen.

Prismo continued, “Upon investigating the scene, Scar found a bracelet with a name engraved on it leading him to his prime suspect: Prism, keeper of the kingdom’s wishing well.”

Prismo noticed out of the corner of his eye two more beetles crawl into the room. He wrapped his arm back ground the blanket to briefly open it up for them to join the rest. Once the two joined the other six, he closed it back up and brought his arm back to his side. “After investigating the scene further, Scar declared to the kingdom guards that were with him that the victim was killed via a-“ Prismo shuddered upon recalling what Scarab had insisted the cause should be. He personally found it rather brutal. He made a brief comment to once again point out that “Geeze man, you really went dark with this part.”

Some chatter emerged from the Scarab beetles. No doubt he was trying to go on about how it was ‘an important element in building up the mystery.’ Prismo gave them a light nudge to indicate that he got the point. The chatter turned to what Prismo could easily interpret as annoyance. He could practically hear Scrabby going on about how dareee Prismo elbow him like that.

Regardless he resumed his retelling, “Annnyway, Scar determined that the victim was killed via getting their back carved open then sliced into with an unknown sharp object as the murder weapon." That is where the story had left off. Prismo wasn’t exactly sure where he should go from there. After all, he didn’t have any right to decide what Scarab’s character would do next. “Hmm, how should I continue?” He wondered aloud to the bundle of beetles that had long since gone quiet and were each patiently looking at either him or the laptop. “Oh, I know!”

Prismo tapped away on the keyboard, starting a new section in the story for where he would continue from. Against his left side he could feel the Scarab beetles pile over one another to view what he was adding. After a few minutes of silence, Prismo finished typing a few basic paragraphs to introduce his own character into the story. It essentially boiled down to his character carrying out his job in looking after the wishing well and keeping watch for people who try to visit it. He put effort into describing the well to be sitting atop a small mound of land. It was surrounded by large forest, and had a stone path connecting it to Prism’s cottage that sat right beside it. It was well isolated from nearest town, and practically impossible to find without Prism’s assistance. He was the only one that knew the safest path in and out of the forest, so whenever he took trips into town for groceries he would have to be careful that no one followed him back.

Prismo turned to look at the beetles to determine their reactions when he asked, “How’s that?”

The eight beetles seemed to still be looking over what he wrote, so Prismo fiddled his hands together while he awaited their response. Another loose beetle made his way into the room, so Prismo once again opened the blanket-wrap to allow him in with the others. After a moment longer they all exited the reading trance and began giving various chitters. Prismo couldn’t tell if the responses were positive or negative.

Prismo halted their inputs, “Woah dude, hold up! I’m having difficulty understanding what you think of it.”

At this the beetles looked back and forth between themselves. One of them emerged slightly from the crowd. For a moment he looked unsure of what to say. He then looked Prismo in the face, and with a scratchy, barely understandable, voice declared what Prismo wrote to be, “Effective.”

Prismo was amazed. For a few reasons actually. Firstly, it was a surprise to him that Scarab was able to form actual words. He could tell that it must have required a decent amount of effort to speak clearly in that form. Secondly, he was appreciative that Scarab would put in that effort just to give Prismo feedback. Thirdly, and most importantly, he was amazed because Scarab previously would have avoided complimenting his writing like the plague.

“Aww! Scrabby, you totally love it!” Prismo jokingly proclaimed. The beetle burrito nearly erupted with hisses of denial to the point that Prismo wrapped his arm around it to hold the blanket in place for them. “Haha, I knowww. I’m just messing with you.” He assured.

This calmed down their hissing into simple grumbles of annoyance. When they had settled down Prismo began to retract his arm from surrounding them, but he was stopped by one of the Scarabs crawling to reach over the blanket to hold his arm in place. Prismo was taken aback by the gesture. Did Scarab really mean what he thought he meant?

“oh do you want me to-“ Prismo gave a nervous chuckle, hoping he was reading the situation correctly. “you want me to keep holding my arm around the blanket there?”

He was ready to be met with violent hissing that he was misunderstanding the gesture, but was pleasantly surprised to instead hear a quiet grumble from the beetle that had held his arm in place. Oh, so he did mean- wait really?! Prismo felt his face flood with warmth at the thought that Scarab had quite literally reached out to Prismo for some basic comfort. He didn’t know how well blushing would show on his 2d form, but luckily for him it seemed that Scarab was avoiding looking at Prismo in some sort of embarrassment of his own. Prismo had never thought that he could find a mere bundle of bugs to be this cute. Heh, this guy really was just one surprise after another. Prismo briefly shook his head to clear his thoughts as though his brain was an Etch A Sketch. Relieving any tension they had between them, Prismo made sure his left arm went comfortably around the beetle bundle before returning his hand to the laptop keys.

“Now where was I?” he turned both of their focus' back to what he was writing. “Ah, right! Prism was about to go into town for his weekly grocery run. That way if you want to, Scar can track Prism down to confront him or possibly try to follow him back through the woods.” Prismo explained his thinking.

The beetles shuffled around to all have a good view of prismo’s laptop screen. He got back to typing how his character went about the day. He used it as an opportunity to develop some world building oh what the town market was like. Merchants would recognize Prism and happily provide him with the ingredients that he requested. The merchants were paid to do so by the kingdom since Prism had such an important role, so they were all used to his face. After his character had gotten what he needed, Prismo still felt something was missing… of course! His character deserved a friend.

“Are you okay if I add a character to be Prism’s friend?” Prismo asked.

Of course he once again just found it difficult -if not impossible- to understand whatever Scarab was trying to communicate as they chattered about.

Prismo delicately interjected, “I don’t mean to pressure you, but this would probably be a lot easier for both of us if you re-formed.” The nine beetles there silenced as they looked between themselves and Prismo, making him add, “It’s fine if you’d prefer it like this! I just don’t want to accidentally misinterpret anything you're saying.”

The Scarabs there now all turned to themselves. Prismo could see them look around at the others before they each let out what sounded to be a sigh of defeat. Prismo waited patiently, to see what they would do next. After a moment, three more of the Scarab beetles crawled into the room. Oh! Prismo realized, that’s all of them! He once again opened the blanket up for the last three to join in before Prismo returned his hand to the laptop with his arm still around the blanket. There was motion from all the beetles in the blanket, but Prismo tried his best not to stare. The lumps joined together, and before he knew it Scarab was back to his normal form. Yeah Prismo had tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help it! He was just too glad to have been able to get Scarab fully back.

Scarab simply sat criss-cross. His eyes in their usual squint, though evidently looking more tired than normal. He was snugly wrapped in the blanket that he continued to hold around himself with only an opening for his face. Prismo’s arm still remained gently held around the other at his side.

Breaking the silence, Scarab let out an exhausted sighhhh.

Prismo took is as a signal that he could speak now. He took a calm approach so as to not overwhelm Scrabby, “Hey, look. Now that you’re- you, I wanted to say that I’m really sorry for how I acted.” He truly felt defeated and solemnly continued, “I should’ve listened to you in the first place, and it’s my fault it didn’t go well.”

It seemed Scarab wasn’t expecting an apology. For a moment his eyes were wide, seemingly stunned at hearing the genuine apology. Scarab recovered from his initial shock and returned to a more neutral expression before he continued. Prismo could tell the other was carefully considering his words when he finally spoke, “It’s… more complicated than that.”

Prismo wasn’t sure what Scarab was referring to, but left it alone to instead ask, “Is there anything I could do to help make it up to you?”

Scarab shifted as he got more comfortable within the blanket. When he once again settled, he made his request, “A cup of warm tea would be nice.”

“Any preferences?” Prismo questioned.

Without hesitation Scarab clarified, “Fennel.”

Prismo smiled. That was something he could do. “Coming right up.” Plus it came with the bonus of Prismo actually learning something new about what Scarab enjoys.

Scarab held a hand out from his blanket. Prismo took it as a sign and summoned the tea directly into the other's hold. He found himself fascinated when he saw how Scrabby drank. He used some sort of tube to easily drink it without the need to remove his mask. Prismo enjoyed the moment of serenity and turned his attention back to the laptop. Oh right, Scarab hadn’t answered his thoughts on giving Prism a friend.

Prismo decided to bring it up again now that everything was more calm between them, “Hey soooo, you never answered my original question. Could I add a character for Prism to be friends with?”

Scarab raised a brow at that as he retracted the tube back in before speaking, “I don’t particularly care, but it would help give Scar a person to question and investigate for any criminal activity that Prism might be involved with, so you’re free to add them.” Scarab then went back to finishing the last of his tea.

“Awesome!” With that Prismo was about to resume typing when he realized that his arm was still resting around Scrabby. He decided to play it safe and double check with the other’s boundaries, “Is it cool that I’ve still got my arm around you? I-“ He felt bad thinking that Scarab might have changed his mind since returning to his full self, “I can easily move it if you want me to.”

Scarab set the now empty tea cup aside, reaching past Prismo’s arm to place it where it wouldn’t be in the way. He let out a tired sigh before responding in a calculated manner, “At the moment, I’d rather you leave it as is.”

Well if he hadn't been blushing earlier, Prismo definitely was now. He decided it would be better not to comment on the other’s decision, so he returned to typing away. Continuing where he left off with Prism, just finishing getting groceries. Then he took the time to visit his friend, Cosmo. Cosmo was the owner of the best medieval mattress shop in the kingdom. Their motto was that they could ‘make your dreams come true!’. Prismo didn’t bother to actually check how people in medieval times would actually sell beds, anything could be true in this world if he just made sure it felt like it fit. It was also much more fun to just include Cosmic Owl, even self-insert Prism deserved a friend to talk to.

Prismo continued to type away about how Prism and Cosmo talked. Scarab quietly remained at his side while observing what he added. It was actually more quiet than normal, Prismo was used to Scarab butting in repeatedly to suggest little ways to improve on the dark atmosphere. Maybe he was letting Prismo write whatever he wanted since it was focused on Prism instead of Scar?

An answer came to him when Scarab let out a tired yawn. Of course it was mixed with some hissing, but unmistakably a yawn nonetheless.

“Woah dude, I didn’t know you could get tired.” Prismo commented. Scarab grumbled a bit. “Scrabby, I can’t hear you if you’re just mumbling to yourself.” Prismo lightheartedly teased.

He was promptly shut up when Scarab actually leaned his back a little bit against Prismo’s side. “It’s a side effect." he tiredly explained. "To put it quite simply, re-forming my body after being split like that takes a lot of energy.” he continued, his exhaustion more evident than before, now that Prismo was looking for it.

“Oh dang.” Prismo’s curiosity for the other grew, “If you don’t mind telling me, how’s it work?”

Scarab gazed out into the empty room while he contemplated if he should answer. He leaned a little more weight onto Prismo, and Prismo in-turn held his arm around Scrabby a little tighter. It was as a sort of comfort, to show that Prismo was still there for him regardless of if or how Scarab answered.

Scarab began his explanation and held a steady voice “Normally I am able to withstand severe injury. My pain tolerance allows me to keep going on important jobs, but to allow it to heal I need to physically stop moving. In that state the pain tolerance is gone as my body instead focuses on healing rather than numbing.”

Prismo almost immediately made the connection, and came to the horrifying conclusion that, “Wait, so you were recovering from the fall when I interrupted you in the time room?!” His heart sank at the unintentional harm his previous action of holding onto Scarab must have caused.

“Well… yes.” Scarab admitted. He seemed caught off guard by how upset Prismo was that he had been hurt. Scarab merely ignored it best he could and resumed his explanation, “My other ability, as you saw, is to split into multiple beetles when my body takes a significant amount of physical damage.” Prismo could practically feel his upset frown go lower than before, if that was even possible. “It’s rather impractical though as it has only ever inhibited my ability to complete my job as an auditor.”

Prismo put on a forced smile as he decided to try and focus on the bright side to Scarab’s abilities in an attempt to keep it more lighthearted, “At least it lets you regenerate everything quickly, most gods can’t heal that fast.”

Scarab went silent. He hugged the blanket tighter around himself and strongly pushed his back against Prismo’s side.

Prismo worried if he had possibly somehow offended Scarab, “Scrabs? You okay?”

Scarab stopped his pushing, but kept the blanket held tight around himself. He paused before, through gritted teeth, he replied with a simple, “I’m fine.”

“Then what was that about? Did I say something wrong?” Prismo questioned in concern for Scarab.

Scarab was quiet. Prismo could feel that he took a few deep breaths before responding, “You just… reminded me of one of the limitations.”

Prismo felt he wasn’t being told the full story, but considering the emotional roller coaster they had both gone through, he decided it was better to leave it alone. Prismo returned himself to typing away at his laptop. Somehow the initial awkward silence soon turned comforting. After a while, Scarab readjusted his position in the blanket, shifting to somewhat lie down as best he could. Prismo kept his arm gently holding Scarab’s resting body against himself. Scarab let out another yawn. Prismo could feel Scarab's body relax, practically melting against him.

Prismo decided to make Scarab an offer he felt had already been accepted, “Feel free to take a nap if you need to dude. I’ll just keep on writing my character, so you can always tell me if I should change anything when you wake up.”

Scarab sleepily mumbled some sort of response, likely a declaration that he didn’t technically require sleep. Despite this, Scarab leaned his head to use Prismo’s arm like a pillow. It was easy to tell that Scarab would be fully asleep very soon. Prismo's heart swelled with affection. Scarab's body shifted its weight causing part of the blanket to just barely slip off. Of course, Prismo delicately pulled it back up with his free hand and set it to stay properly held over the other's shoulder. When Scarab subconsciously shifted to hold the blanket, Prismo could tell he had officially fallen asleep.

Softly he whispered, “Goodnight, you little freak of nature.” before returning to quietly type away at their story.

Chapter Text

Where was he? Scarab wearily opened his eyes. Trying to get up he found himself being held- no, quite literally pinned against a cold tile floor that expanded indefinitely into the horizon. Oh no. Scarab knew this setup all too well. He struggled, attempting resistance as though it would change anything. A familiar rounded figure towered next to him while insignificant others made of shadow began to encircle them. Scarab realized that he knew what would happen next.

LET ME GO! He attempted to call out, only for his voice to be stuck in his own head. Instead he had merely managed a choked out cry. Scarab got no response from the figures surrounding him. Desperately, he pushed and pulled his limbs attempting to loosen the large pins holding him back. Not a single budge.

All too soon he heard the command be given out, "Open em’ up. Get the wings." NO!

The pitch black silhouettes moved in, becoming all encompassing and blocking out all light. Even the floor transformed into a vast expanse of nothingness. Any moment now he would feel it.

A distant echo was faintly heard calling to him, "Scarab?!" It was Prismo... wait what?

Scarab’s eyes widened as he saw Prismo’s familiar arm extending towards him from the darkness. That can’t be right, no one had been there for him- Scarab Struggled with the needles, turning to see behind him. The arm stretched to hold back the darkness from fully enclosing Scarab. This isn’t how it went, there hadn’t- …This wasn’t real.

The silhouettes broke through to Scarab, leaving Prismo’s arm to become engulfed within the void. Scarab shut his eyes. He couldn’t bear to face the reality of what was about to happen. Despite this, he could still see it clearly in his mind as the arms crowded in. They were Reaching- Grabbing- Pulling…

NO! Oh nonoNO!.
This ISN’T REAL, HE WASNT REALLY HERE.
IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW THIS GOES HE’D ALWAYS BE MISSING HIS-

Painfully tearing Scarab apart.

“SCRABBY, WAKE UP!!!”

Scarab jolted awake.
Immediately sitting upright, he gasped for air as if it was his only lifeline. He tried to move around, to stand up, but his flailing was met with resistance from the blanket that had previously provided comfort. His senses were filled with white noise and fuzz. The only thing heard over the static running through his very being was his own desperate inhale, repeating itself like a second heartbeat. The unnecessary respiration was giving himself a headache as the whole world was becoming more out of focus by the second.

“Dude, Slow down!” Came the muted voice of Prismo, his concern clear. The sound Muffled in his brain to such an extent that Scarab had barely heard it.

Ah. Right. Scarab had fallen asleep with Prismo there. He shouldn’t have done that, should’ve known that this would happen. It may have been years since he last slept, but why would that ever stop the nightmares? Why could nothing ever go his way? Breathing turned to seething, only worsening his situation. He just might faint if this kept up.

“Shit uh- calm breaths!” Prismo clearly wasn’t the best at helping, but Scarab still took the opportunity to anchor his focus on the wishmaster’s words. “Just er- Inhale… Exhale…”

Scarab followed along with the instructions. He made decisive breaths following Prismo’s lead, only disrupted by hiccups of inhaling as his lungs steadied. Finally, Scarab could properly assess his situation.

WAIT his-! Within the blanket, Scarab reached to feel his back. Of course his elytra just had to act up, opened wide with the instinct to allow him to fly away. He hadn’t even noticed it in his panic. Scarab quickly smoothed it back down into place. With that no longer taking up so much space, the blanket that protected his back from prying eyes became loose, allowing him to slip it off his form.

Scarab stumbled out of the blanket, his spatial awareness coming back to him. Prismo was still right there, hesitantly watching without causing any physical interference. As Scarab had come to realize before succumbing to sleep, the wishmaster's concern for him wasn't the false show of emotion that Scarab had originally written it off as. Scarab should've hated the genuine care far more, he told himself. He didn't need help, much less from the very being he swore to replace. Despite this, he found himself appreciating Prismo's evolving efforts. It was clear from looking at Prismo that he was holding himself back to avoid further overwhelming Scarab, likely learned from the events that had previously led them there. It was a significant improvement.

Prismo fiddled with his hands before timidly speaking up, "How’re you doing now?"

”I’ve been better.” Scarab said as he dusted himself off.

There wasn’t any dust actually on him, being in the second dimension and all, but the familiarity of the motion brought him some semblance of order. Feeling like himself once again, he turned his focus to stretching his joints. First, a basic upward stretch of his arms, then some small lunges for his legs, and at last he gave a standing backbend resulting in a satisfactory crack.

“Nightmare?” Prismo questioned. Something about his tone reassured Scarab that it was asked without any malice intent.

Scarab let out one last exhale to brush off the weight of the world, "I'm used to it.”

"Wanna talk about it?" Prismo tested the waters.

"I'd rather not." He paused in consideration before adding an apprehensive, “Thanks though… for your help.”

Prismo’s eyes lit up as he smiled brightly at Scarab.

“Don’t make me take it back.” Scarab enforced before the other could start pestering him about it.

“Fine, fine…” Prismo seemingly backed off. “Buuuuuut-“ he suddenly leaned over and brought himself right up to Scarab’s personal space as he offered, “Can I at least offer a hug?” Prismo held his arms open awaiting an answer.

Scarab stepped back to stare at the other, silently questioning Prismo if he had gone crazy. Why would he ever think Scarab would care for such a… a mortal gesture. Prismo just patiently remained where he was, smiling without even the slightest hint of judgment and awaiting an answer. Scarab resigned himself, surely it couldn’t be that bad if Prismo was suggesting it so enthusiastically. Even if he didn't like the hug, it seems that Prismo at least would.

“Only if it makes you drop it.” he concluded.

Prismo retreated from crowding Scarab, “Promise!”

Prismo’s arms slowly extended to wrap themselves around Scarab and delicately pulled him up to be held against the other. At first the hold was somewhat nerve inducing, but as Scarab relaxed himself to the gesture it became a calming relief. Scarab didn’t hug back, he was too busy taking in the comfort. He simply wasn't used to being held in such a way, unlike ever before. It felt so soothingly warm to just be positively embraced by another. Prismo gave a gentle squeeze, a conclusion to the hug that would have been satisfying had Scarab not secretly wished for it to last longer, and Scarab was then lowered back to where he had stood previously. Scarab felt his face warm slightly. He doubted it would be noticeable. Nonetheless he felt embarrassed at having not only enjoyed, but actively wanting more of the mortal gesture.

Scarab looked back at Prismo and noticed he seemed a bit out of it, but also with a blush evident on his face. He worried he possibly broke the other. Trying to figure out what it was, he made the connection that it was awfully similar to the times Prismo would go quiet when he had been showing Scarab around the time room at the start of the Fionna and Cake incident. Scarab wondered if Prismo had possibly split himself for some unknown reason.

It didn't take long for his theory to be confirmed when he heard a distant sound just barely echo out from the time room. It was too difficult to make out exactly what was said, but he could tell it was Prismo's voice seemingly yelling about something.

Scarab felt a bit awkward. He didn't know how to feel about the fact that Prismo had been split this whole time. He could at least tell that Prismo's focus had been on Scarab for the entire time up to that moment, so he somewhat appreciated being priority over whatever had currently grabbed Prismo's focus.

He cleared his throat to return the other's attention if he could.

Prismo's form snapped back to life, "Ah, sorry! I uh- forgot to mention that Cosmic Owl's over. I promised him we'd hang out over board games."

"Oh...” Scarab paused to take in the information. He then questioned the wishmaster’s methods, “Why didn't you just leave me here then?" He asked genuinely, but had put in an effort to sound like he couldn't care less. He even added, “It would've been much more effective that way."

Prismo shrugged, "You just looked real peaceful and I didn't want to disturb your sleep, so I figured it'd be better if I left part of myself with ya." Scarab could notice that the other's blush, while more faint, was still present. "I'm glad I did too, it seemed like a nasty nightmare."

“Yeah...” Focusing instead on fulfilling his own curiosity, Scarab asked, “How is it that Cosmic Owl distracted you?"

”I kindaaa just had him on hold with my other form this whole time while I tried to help ya." Prismo nervously continued, "Cosmic Owl just... got my attention for a moment there. It's nothing important, just uh- wanted to say something."

It was obvious to Scarab that it was a white lie. He wasn't sure in what way, but he felt that whatever they talked about had something to do with him. He brushed the feeling off, gods would talk about him behind his back all the time, anyway.

In a change of tone, Prismo crossed his arms in exaggeration before pouting that, "He was also trying to peek at my cards."

Scarab gave a chuckle at the others 'misfortune'. He found it rather comical how the all powerful wishmaster complained of such a trivial matter.

Quickly catching on to the humor lightening the mood, Prismo's pout turned to a grin. In a light hearted manner he joked "Aw come onnn, not you too Scrabby! Why ya gotta gang up on me?"

His chuckle evolved into an all out laughing at the other being. It felt good to let himself have this brief moment. Pulling himself together, he calmly disputed, “It isn’t ganging up on you if we’ve had no coordination.”

“Still,” Prismo huffed with no intention to finish his thought. “Oh!” Scarab could metaphorically see a lightbulb go off above the other’s head as he excitedly suggested, “How about you join us? I already explained to Cosmic Owl that you’re here, and he’s always looking for more board game players!”

Scarab considered the offer, genuinely taking the time to think it through rather than immediately shut it down. “You can go ahead without me. I’d like to read whatever additions you made to the story before Cosmic Owl arrived. However…” Prismo's eyes sparkled as he was hanging onto Scarab's every word, “I might be willing to join you afterwards. Of course, you would also have to create an easy path for me to walk back to the time room.”

“Of course!” Prismo happily replied.

He grabbed the laptop from where it was, logging in and placing it on the floor near Scarab.

Prismo leaned above Scarabs shoulder as he pointed out, “I wrote like five pages. It kinda just boils down to Prism finishing his day.”

Scarab nodded his head.

“Whelp, Cosmic Owl's wanting to finish the game we were playing. Hope I’ll see you up there.” Prismo waved goodbye before his form faded away to the time room.

Cracking his knuckles, Scarab sat down to begin reading.

***

Prismo reappeared back in the time room with Cosmic Owl and the other part of himself. He wasted no time forming back together.

Slightly upset, Prismo voiced his annoyance at the other, “Come on dude, why’d you have to do that?”

Cosmic owl placed a card on the pile, “I wasn’t trying t-hoo look at your cards, you just weren’t hiding them well.”

Prismo deadpanned, “You know that’s not what I was talking about.” He dragged his hands down his face, “Ughh, Why’d you have to make it weirddd?”

Cosmic Owl shrugged, “Hey man I was just pointing out the obvious. You’re the one that was blushing like crazy. S’not my fault I can put two and two together n’ say ya got a crush.”

Cosmic Owl gave a head nod directed at Prismo’s cards on the floor. Taking the hint Prismo picked them back up and placed one of his own on the pile to continue their game.

“Naw dude, you got it all wrong-“ Prismo tried to contest.

Cosmic Owl interrupted while placing another card, “When you told me how he ended up here you were practically gushing about how c-hool you thought he was.”

“But-!”

“THEN you went out of your way to offer that he join you here rather than get in any trouble for wrecking the universe that you made!” Cosmic Owl was offhandedly pointing the card he was holding at Prismo.

“Well-“ Prismo drew a card from the pile for his turn.

“Not to mention that you LEFT YOUR OWN PARTY to check on him! YOU RARELY EVER LEAVE YOUR PARTIES” Cosmic Owl emphasized with the spread of his wings.

Settling back down, Cosmic Owl placed the card he held onto the pile, “Uno, skip your turn, back to me,” Slamming his last card atop the pile he exclaimed, “Uno out! Wh-hoo!”

Prismo was too busy coming to terms with what was pointed out to him to care about losing the game. Glob, did he have a crush on Scarab? I mean, he could feel himself blushing profusely at just the thought, was it really that obvious? Prismo used his hands to cover his reddened face as though it would make all his problems simply go away. If Scarab overheard just about any of this conversation then Prismo would be dead for sure. If not first from his own embarrassment, then at the former god auditor’s hands for sure.

Cosmic Owl picked up on the silence, “S’not that bad dude. In fact, it’s sounding to me like this is the happiest you’ve been since… well Y’know.”

Prismo could fill in what he meant: Since before Jake died. He lowered his arms and sighed at the reminder. The atmosphere was quick to turn dreary.

“Sorry.” Cosmic Owl said as he realized what he’d brought up. “Look, what I mean is that as your friend I want you to be happy. If hanging around with Scarab, be it platonically or romantically, makes you happy, then I think that’s a good thing.”

His words helped to comfort Prismo, “I guess.”

Willingly forgetting his sadness, Prismo brought up that, “Now’s probably a good time to mention: I invited him to join us.”

As though activated like a sleeper agent, Cosmic Owl silently stood and went to get a board game from the pile. After a bit of excited rummaging, a game was selected and he brought it back over. Prismo noticed it was the 3 player game that Cosmic Owl rarely got to play. It always took some time setting up, so Cosmic Owl was already getting right to it.

Prismo smiled. It felt good to know his friend always had his back.

Just in case, Prismo brought up a possibility, “I’m just saying, there’s no guarantee he’s gonna want to play. Honestly There’s even the chance he decides to not even join us up here in the first place.”

Cosmic Owl paused his board game assembly to strike a glare at Prismo. It gave a clear wordless message of ‘don’t ruin this for me.’ Prismo raised his arms to signal that he was backing off.

With nothing better to do, Prismo helped Cosmic Owl arrange all the pieces for the board game. With their combined effort, it was quickly set up. The only thing left was for them to figure out how to shuffle the cards. With the Uno cards, they had simply mixed it into a large spread out pile, but found that it took incredibly too long to get the cards neat in a stack again for actual use. Prismo couldn’t shuffle because the way he interacted with objects didn’t work well with it, and so Cosmic Owl had to find a way to do it despite having wings for hands. With the deck on the floor, he carefully attempted to split the pile in half with his feather-fingers.

Almost on cue, as Cosmic Owl accidentally tipped over the card stack, there was a formal knock from the other side of one of the passages on the wall to Prismo’s right. Prismo could feel his mood entirely light up since he knew it could only be one certain bitter bug. He swiftly reached over to let Scarab in.

“Scrabby!” he exclaimed, practically overjoyed that the other had merely shown up.

Scarab stood sturdy, incredibly formal at the presence of another being other than Prismo. As he stepped in, Prismo politely closed the wall back up behind him.

Almost entirely back in his normal passive aggressive tone, Scarab commented on the state of the time room, “Impressive, you actually cleaned up after yourself for once. It certainly makes my job easier.”

Although it sounded like an insult, Prismo could just barely tell that Scarab’s statement meant to hint at a more genuine appreciation of the clean up that had required very little effort on Prismo’s part.

“It was no problem, really.” Prismo humbly replied.

Cosmic Owl meanwhile accidentally knocked over the stack of cards again, “Sh-hoot! These wings really just aren’t equipped for this, man.”

Scarab walked from his position on the wall to more clearly observe what Cosmic Owl was doing from over the other’s shoulder. His movement was silent, likely from the centuries of going after targets as a god auditor.

Cosmic Owl didn’t even realize Scarab was right behind him on the wall to the owl’s left before Scarab spoke up, “Aren’t you that Profiteer?”

“HOO-LY SHIT!” Cosmic Owl jumped several feet away in surprise.

The card stack was left abandoned at the floor as he softly landed himself with the use of his wings. Scarab’s expression remained unreadable, so it was unclear to Prismo if he had done it on purpose with malice, or if he had simply not realized how well he hid his presence. Either way as any good friend would, Prismo couldn’t help himself from laughing at his friend’s harmless shock.

Cosmic Owl caught his breath before he shot Prismo a look of betrayal. “Yeesh, not cool man. One of you coulda at least warned me.” he huffed.

Prismo calmed down his laughter, “Sorry dude, but I gotta admit that was pretty funny to watch play out.”

Cosmic Owl cautiously stepped back to the card pile. Scarab still stood, somewhat awkwardly, on the wall near to it. He raised a brow, indicating that he still expected the owl to address his partial question-partial statement.

Under a bit of pressure, Cosmic Owl explained himself, “I just fell behind on work a few times and the dream-tokens just piled up! It only took a few nights t-hoo get it fixed though, so while technically I was accidentally profiteering for a bit, I ah- got it sorted out. Now if we’re gonna play this board game-” Cosmic Owl bent down to sweep the card pile to once again be neat.

Realizing something he should have thought of before, Prismo chimed back up, “Hey, I’ve got an idea to how we could solve the card shuffling problem.” The other two looked at him, showing that he had their attentions, “Well when Scarab was being transferred over, I was told of how I could use a little trick for when I require assistance in the third dimension.” Prismo took note of how he could practically see the hope appear in Scarab’s eyes. He quickly explained further, “Basically, when it’s needed I can allow Scarab to shift back into his normal three dimensional body to assist from off the wall. Technically I could do it myself too, but it takes a lot more effort since I would need to form a new body separate from the sleeping one that keeps me alive, so this’d just be a lot easier.”

When he finished his info dumping and looked back at his peers, Cosmic Owl showed minor signs of worry, repeatedly glancing at the former god auditor that had called him out for profiteering just moments ago. Meanwhile Scarab was just staring at him wide-eyed with obvious longing to be allowed back into the third dimension. Upon seeing Scarab’s nearly pleading face, Prismo’s mind was already made up. With just the snap of his fingers, he would open up a world of possibilities.

Chapter Text

A whole word of possibilities reopened to him, and yet it was only to be spent shuffling cards and playing meaningless games. Even so, for once Scarab greatly hoped that the wishmaster would use his power as unprofessionally as he always had. After all, it’s not like anyone would care if it was Prismo that bent the rules.

“Whadaya say Scrabby, you in?” Prismo double checked with him.

Unable to muster the words, Scarab gave a quick and confident nod.

“Okay lets see…” Prismo snapped his fingers. “There, simple! That should let you transfer off the wall into 3d. I think you kinda just gotta… I dunno like- ‘step forward’ for it to work.” Prismo shrugged.

Slightly hesitant as to if it would work, Scarab started with reaching out with his hand. Almost like it was coming from a portal, his hand emerged out from the wall. He flexed his fingers to properly feel out their return to the third dimension. He couldn't help but feel delighted that it was actually working. Setting aside any further hesitation, Scarab stepped forward from the wall with confidence like he owned the place. Fake it till you make it, after all. He paused a moment to crack his shoulder joints, presenting himself as being more than ready to take on the world.

Scarab missed how easy it was to traverse around a 3d world with a 3d form, but more importantly, he missed the extra intimidation that simply flowed with his mere presence. Gods would tremble at the mere mention of his name, as they should. None of that "Scrabby" stuff, they would know he was not one to be messed with. Sure, he had managed to startle Cosmic Owl mere moments ago, but from what he could tell it was more a result of the owl being rather… cowardly. More specifically, he didn’t seem like one to willingly defy higher ups like Scarab would so often have to deal with in his former job.

“When we’re done and you’re ready to return, you just gotta like- purposefully walk back into the wall. It sounds stupid, but it’s better than becoming 2d from just leaning on a wall.” Prismo mentioned. “Oh and I can also snap you back to 2d as well, kinda like a failsafe.”

After taking in the information, Scarab recalled his duty and strode the few feet to the card pile. Cosmic Owl cautiously stepped back to keep a distance, hah, good. Scarab bent over and collected the cards in an orderly fashion. Using a trick he had learned over the years of multiple missions requiring he go undercover at casinos across the multiverse, he made a show of shuffling the cards. Standing tall, he made them practically fly from one hand to another, a blur of well controlled movement. Right, left, and even an odd juggle, the cards moved and mixed through the air.

“Woahh” Prismo whispered in awe, captivated by Scarab’s performance.

Prismo wasn’t the only one either, Cosmic Owl too watched wide eyed. This particular card shuffle had become almost second nature, so Scarab knew he had made it seem easy. Under his mask he smirked, finally some recognition, even if it were over a mere 'party trick'. The cards were more than thoroughly shuffled when Scarab ended his little show of ability. He simply let the them collect back into a single neat pile in his right hand. Despite the near-magical movement, not a single card had been bent. Scarab would rarely-if ever-have the time to actually sit down and play such silly games in his previous job position.

Not knowing what came next, he looked back at Prismo and bluntly asked, “Now what?”

“Well, take a seat. I’m sure Cosmic Owl could explain the rules better than me.” Prismo suggested.

Scarab shifted his eyes at a glare towards the owl, causing the other to subconsciously let out a weak 'hoo!'. Scarab held his focus staring at Cosmic Owl as he slowly sat himself down criss-cross. It might’ve looked ridiculous, but the effect it had within their unspoken standoff left the owl’s feathers slightly puffing up. Instead of saying anything, Cosmic Owl remained anxiously glancing between Scarab and Primo in a signal for the latter of the two to step in.

Prismo broke the tension with a facepalm, “Scarab, dude- Chill. These games are supposed to be for fun! Stop freaking him out.”

Reluctantly, Scarab turned to instead observe and analyze the board game’s set up to see how he could use components to his advantage, plotting how he could beat them within their board game antics.

***

The first few games went… actually a bit better than Prismo expected.
The first game was relatively tame, though unnerving with how well Scarab kept up a poker face the entire time. They were playing Clue, so in all honesty it was an effective strategy. Especially compared to Prismo’s inability to hide the slightest evidence. At one point he even accidentally answered an out-of-game question about his cards. It wasn’t his fault though! He had just been a bit distracted processing the —Cosmic Owl assisted— realization that he had a crush on Scarab, but then- Scarab must’ve noticed that he’d zoned out! He asked a question like it was part of his turn, so Prismo had hastily answered to try and save face as though he had been paying attention. His panic induced response of course backfired when Cosmic Owl immediately pointed out that: a) it was actually his turn and b) Prismo had given away that he was holding the lead pipe weapon card. Real embarrassing.

It doesn’t matter though, he was bad at Clue anyway, so it’s not like he could’ve won. Honestly he found it cool how well Scarab had been able to figure things out. Maybe it was a skill learned from being a god auditor? Prismo wasn’t really sure of what the job actually required, just the basic knowledge that you’re in big trouble if they catch you.

After playing Clue, it was Prismo’s turn to pick a game from the pile. Card Wars had immediately stuck out to him. It was Jake’s favorite. Sure it was sad to think about, but it still brought back some good memories, so he had decided to pick it anyway. Cosmic Owl had groaned because it would famously take at least two hours just to explain the basics of the game to new players, but Prismo was determined to share the game with his roommate. It took a full two and a half hours just to rattle out all the basics, with a few of the common strategies thrown in and explained. Since the game was meant to be played two player, Prismo figured out the perfect solution: He could work together with Scrabby on the same side.

It would be an understatement to say that it had gone well for them. Prismo carried out the basic stuff at first while further explaining to Scarab how and why it worked, but the other had picked up on it amazingly fast. Scarab was quick to start bringing up and suggesting alternate strategies that Prismo hadn’t even thought of. With the new flavor to their strategy, they had both been able to win all 3 of the rounds they played against Cosmic Owl.

Prismo was ecstatic at their combined winnings. At least he was, until Cosmic Owl had gained the courage to request the chance to have Scarab on his side for another 3 rounds since ‘It’s only fair.’ Surprisingly to Prismo, Scarab had immediately accepted. Now they really were conspiring against him. Although, Prismo was still pleased to see them both work together. Cosmic Owl got more comfortable to confidently chat with Scarab about different plans of attack, and Scarab seemed to provide the constructive feedback needed to find the best option. They of course kept their strategizing to themselves, but Prismo could at least see how well they worked together. Once again Scarab’s side had won every round.

Normally, when it was just Cosmic Owl and Prismo, they had a pretty even win-lose ratio, luck of the draw being a large factor. However it seemed that Scarab was able to figure out how to take advantage of any cards given. It was truly fascinating to Prismo how determined Scarab was in figuring out the best strategies.

After Card Wars, it had become Scarab’s turn to pick a game. Prismo and Cosmic Owl gave brief descriptions of each board game in the pile, and stopped when Scarab decided on trying Monopoly. Once they all agreed on designating Cosmic Owl the banker, they were ready to play. The first problem arose when Scarab had the misfortune of landing on the go to jail space.

“Oooh Scrabby, looks like you’re in jail now.” Prismo teased. “Since you don’t have any get out of jail free cards, you gotta either pay $50 or roll doubles. I’d probably recommend just paying your dues.”

Scarab mumbled, “Tch, of course you would say that.”

Yikes, he probably shouldn’t have worded it like that. Trying to brush it off, he gave a simple, “Suit yourself.” before continuing to his own turn. He rolled only to find himself landing on the same go to jail space as Scarab.

Prismo frowned, “Aw dunk." Nudging his elbow in Scarab's direction, though not actually effecting the other due to quite literally being in different dimensions, he joked, "Haha, guess I’m stuck in here with ya.”

Cosmic Owl chimed in, “Wait don’t you still have that get out of jail free card from a few rounds ago?”

Crossing his arms, Scarab muttered a disgruntled, “Of course you do.”

A bit worried, Prismo brought his arm back to his own cards, “It’s sounding a bit like the game’s kinda getting to you, Scrabby. We can stop if you want-”

Scarab interjected, “Never mind that. This is just a minor setback. I’m still going to win this, one way or another.”

“Oookay then.” Prismo said, hesitant.

He used the get out of jail free card and the game continued. Scarab had the unfortunate lack of luck to fail to roll doubles for three rounds, and was forced to pay the $50 anyway. Prismo didn’t want to say anything, but it was clear to him that the game was definitely starting to get on Scarab’s nerves. Regardless, the game moved on. Prismo and Cosmic Owl were still able to make jokes and keep the overall spirit lighthearted. Scarab didn’t contribute to the jokes, but he also hadn’t really mentioned being at all bothered by it, instead focusing himself with trying to figure out how to win.

After a few more rounds, Cosmic Owl’s money was nearly depleted. It was once again his turn and they all watched as he rolled the dice.

“Five!” Prismo declared when the dice settled.

“One, two-hoo, three…” Cosmic Owl muttered as he moved his piece. “Aw dang, I landed on Scarab’s hotel!” he complained.

“Better pay your rent, profiteer.” Scarab smugly jabbed, finally participating in Cosmic Owl and Prismo’s teasing of each other. Scarab outstretched a hand to collect the last of the owl’s fictional money.

Cosmic Owl instead pulled his money close, “O-hoo Yeah? Well… if I’m such a ‘profiteer’, how about I don’t pay it!”

Scarab withdrew his hand, holding it closed into a fist. His eyes squinted, giving one last chance. Prismo was about to step in and make Cosmic Owl hand over what he owed when the owl stood up. Oh boy was he really about to do what Prismo thought he was? Testing his luck, Cosmic Owl childishly booked it to the other corner of the room. Scarab shot up to his feet. Glob dammit, Prismo facepalmed.

Prismo snapped to get Scarab's attention before he inevitably chased after Cosmic Owl, “Hey! You better not hurt him!”

Scarab cracked his knuckles, “Of course.” He smiled, “I merely plan to retrieve what is rightfully mine.”

Prismo looked to see Cosmic Owl was now in the other corner of the time room, doing some sort of victory shimmy while he held his game money. Oh boy. Rolling his eye, Prismo gave in, “Fine, whatever, go have your fun.” As he heard Cosmic Owl give a fearful 'hoo!' over what he said, he added the obvious stipulation, “Just- no violence!”

Having clearly overheard the conversation, Cosmic Owl took flight from where he was the moment that Scarab turned around. With a put together walk, Scarab made his way over to where Cosmic Owl flew in place.

Scarab overdramatically pointed his finger at the cosmic entity, “Pay the fee, you damned hooligan!”

“Hahaha, y-hoo’ll never take me alive!” Cosmic Owl mocked as he flew in small circles.

Prismo wasn’t exactly sure, but he could’ve sworn he heard Scarab mutter something along the lines of “Showoff.” at the owl’s actions. Huh, odd. What could Scarab mean by that? Prismo was quickly distracted from his own thoughts as he watched Scarab then proceeded to attempt to jump up and grab Cosmic Owl. Prismo chuckled to himself, it looked utterly ridiculous. While he watched to see what Scarab would do next, his laughter was put on hold as he noticed something else interesting. As Scarab hopped, a part of his back would open ever so slightly. What was-? There wasn’t enough room to see what might’ve been under it, but that only fueled Prismo’s curiosity. Before Prismo could see it more clearly, Scarab stopped his ineffective hopping. His hands balled into fists at his side. Prismo intently watched when he saw Scarab’s back shift ever so slightly, as though it wanted to morph into something else and was actively being held back. It was very brief before it stopped, and Prismo was left in confusion, internally questioning what he had seen. Prismo decided to put it aside, he could just ask Scarab about it all later. It probably isn’t that important anyway.

He was about to finally step in when Scarab cracked his legs slightly backwards and launch himself high enough that he actually managed to grab onto Cosmic Owl’s leg. Of course the sudden weight caused Cosmic Owl to be pulled down from where he flew. He dropped the money that he held to instead prevent entirely falling onto the floor, and Scarab let go.

“You both okay?!” Prismo called out to check. He could tell they weren’t at all physically harmed, but he wanted to make sure that neither of them were at all upset with the other.

Scarab bent over and collected the Monopoly money as it landed on the floor, “I got what was owed.”

Cosmic Owl clumsily landed himself on the floor, a bit shaken up. He then flopped onto his back as he took in some air. Prismo was starting to get worried until he saw the owl raise a wing and give a weary ‘thumbs’ up.

Scarab walked back over and sat down in his spot. Calmly, he brought up, “I believe it is now my turn?” like none of what just went down had happened.

“Uh- yeah.” Prismo said, trying not to laugh while watching Cosmic Owl make a dramatic show of crawling over to them as though he was mortally wounded.

***

Scarab wouldn’t tell the others, but he was rather enjoying his time. It felt good to have his wins celebrated, even if it was just a simple congratulations over an unimportant game. He had even lowered his defenses in terms of simply interacting with them. For once in his life, he felt he could speak freely without complaint from others. Scarab had even found it somewhat exhilarating to have been allowed to chase after the childish owl so that he could retrieve the Monopoly money.

The game continued between Scarab and Prismo, with Cosmic Owl continuing his role as the banker while eating popcorn. It was growing close as they kept landing on each other’s spaces and paying the rent. The same few hundred dollars was repeatedly passed between them, but neither wavered their determination to win. The first hit came when Scarab found it necessary to start selling his properties, and from there it snowballed. One by one his properties got sold off. His composure worsened with each loss as he scrambled to figure out a comeback. However it was too late for that as he had the terrible luck of landing on Prismo’s property with nearly every turn.

All too soon it was Scarab’s last turn as he had nothing left to sell. He looked at the flimsy $50 that remained. Hesitantly, he took the dice and rolled. Right onto Prismo’s property.

“And thus ends the game, with the first non-Scarab win of the night!” Prismo celebrated while Cosmic Owl clapped his wings and danced around, getting the remaining popcorn everywhere.

“What…” Scarab almost couldn’t understand it. It just wasn't right, he’s not supposed to lose. He suddenly felt overwhelmed as he childishly slammed the last of his money onto the board, causing all of the pieces and cards to scatter about. Naturally, this got the others' attention. “Of course it’s you I lose to.” he thought aloud, making Cosmic Owl step back, once again cautious of him.

Scarab could feel something barely held together within him coming apart, and he couldn’t help but laugh. After all, it was FUNNY. He desperately clung at his mask like it could crumple off any moment. Shakily, he stood up. Scarab couldn’t help how his muscles spasmed with unwarranted adrenaline that had no where else to go. Both Prismo and Cosmic Owl merely watched in shock at the quick escalation.

“First Fionna and Cake, and now THIS?!” he hissed, releasing his mask to gesture at the game on the floor. His fingers were curled, desperate for something to claw at.

Prismo seemed especially upset- no, worried over Scarab's behavior, “Woah! Scrabby, dude, it’s nothing personal! A lot of it was just bad luck!”

Scarab already knew that. He knew it wasn't Prismo's fault how the game had played out. He knew there was no reason in lashing out over this. He knew this wasn’t professional or put together. Yet none of that stopped his body from treating the simple loss like it would be his death sentence. With nowhere else to direct his feelings, Scarab hammered his fist onto the wall with no regret, despite the pain it brought to his hand. The wall was fixable, but Scarab was not.

“It’s not fair,” he seethed, not caring for a response. "Why is it that you can fail as much as you want, but the minute that I-“

He couldn’t even finish his sentence before he had to choke down a sob. Dammit, damn it all to death and back. His clawed fingers returned to holding his mask together. He knows he shouldn’t show weakness, yet he couldn’t stop the tears welling up and spilling out. Glod damn it! As Scarab hunched over in distress, he ran out of the energy needed to focus his feelings into anger, leaving only sobs of pain. He briefly tried to refocus himself, crouching down as his body attempting to morph itself into a put together state, but even that failed to change anything as a few rogue tears fell to the ground.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Cosmic Owl reach out towards him, causing him to instinctually flinch away. He was all too familiar with beings reaching at him. Always for the wrong reasons, and always ending in his own pain.

Still shakily holding himself up in his position flinched away, Scarab barely caught it as Prismo moved over to Cosmic Owl, and dismissed him with a simple, “Shit man, I think you should wait outside while I try to handle this.”

At that the owl thankfully flew himself out. It was somewhat comforting to know that he wouldn’t be there to witness Scarab's spiral into further weakness.

Slowly approaching him from the wall, Prismo delicately spoke up, “Scrabby?”

“For the love of glob, at least cease this mockery of my name!” Scarab lashed out, uncaring of the potential consequences that always seemed to come with speaking out.

“Sorry! Right, yeah- I’ll stop.” Prismo swiftly reassured.

More tears filled his eyes. Why couldn’t it have always just been that simple? The sobs resumed uncontrollably as he desperately tried to cover his face. Why was it that out of all the gods, it was the one he had resented for centuries that was the first to show him this basic respect? He knew how other gods talked about him behind his back. He knew from experience that they only showed him a facade of respect in fear of his position and reputation as a god auditor. Yet here Prismo was, in a position above him and still making the effort to respect Scarab's requests.

“Hey, Scarab?” Prismo asked to regain his attention.

With a sniffle, Scarab tried to wipe the watery trails flowing over his mask. Despite only succeeding to smudge the tears further, he looked back up at Prismo. It didn't even matter at this point, Prismo's already seen him at his multiple other worst moments since the Fionna and Cake incident, what did one more pathetic display of weakness matter?

“Look I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, but-“ Prismo awkwardly outstretched his arms, offering a hug.

Scarab shakily stood. Walking closer step by step, another tear slid down his mask and fell to the floor as he scanned the other for any signs of a hidden intent. Exactly as he knew would happen, he was only met with Prismo’s honest concern. Defeated in his sorrow, Scarab collapsed back into his 2d form upon the wall. Now able to directly interact with Prismo, he was quickly held up against the other. A blissful feeling of warmth returned from within Prismo’s comforting embrace.

“It’ll be okay. I’ve got you.”

This time, Scarab hugged back.

Chapter Text

Some portion of time passed with Prismo simply letting Scarab weep against him. Nearly the entire time, Scarab had been ineffectively rubbing at the tears that flowed across his mask, like an attempt to pull himself together that only worsened the amount of misery he allowed to consume himself. Prismo brought one of his hands to Scarab’s face. Gently, he tilted Scarab’s face up and helped to wipe the tears away. Scarab sniffled before closing his eyes and letting the weight of his head fully rest itself in Prismo’s hand.

”You don’t always have to be perfect, y’know.” Prismo spoke up.

Scarab looked up at Prismo, his tears held back from falling for the moment. His eyes looked puffy. Prismo figured that managing to distract Scarab from his sobbing was probably a good sign.

With Scarab’s attention now on his words, Prismo clarified, “Like, it’s okay if you fail.”

Scarab let his head fall forward, hiding his face against Prismo.

“Liar.” He mumbled, his voice hoarse and significantly muffled.

Despite the bitterness in his tone, Scarab made no effort to pull away. Instead he wrapped his arms around himself and continued leaning against Prismo for support. Prismo kept both of his arms as they were, resting across Scarab’s back and still hugging him.

Scarab turned his head to the side so that he could be more clearly heard as he made his point, “It’s okay if you fail.” His tears resumed their path downward. “If I fail…” Scarab trailed off.

“You get ‘stuck in this place of pure misery’?” Prismo guessed, repeating Scarab’s long past words from before the party back at him.

Scarab let out a maddened chuckle, and an increase of tears spilled out. Scarab continued through with what he meant to say, “If I fail, I get in trouble… I get hurt.” His tone darkened as he added, “One way or another.”

Prismo could practically feel his stomach drop. His own tears now began to form as he took in the information. It only made sense that Scarab’s job as god auditor would surely bring him to face various battles with other gods. It’s one of the most dangerous jobs there was, most often given to those deemed disposable. A terrible system, really. Normally it’s a miracle when an auditor would last more than a few decades, but Scarab had been well known for- what? Like a buncha’ centuries, probably more like a few millennia? Sure, time generally meant less to them all as gods, but it was probably inevitable that Scarab would have sustained a lot of injuries during that time. It was no wonder he’d be a sore loser if for all that time the slightest slip up could result in injury.

Scarab’s hands tightly balled themselves into fists, and Prismo felt it as the others body shook. With no better ideas of what to do, Prismo entwined his arms a little further around the former god auditor. The motion calmed the shaking, and got Scarab to look up at Prismo.

Prismo leaned down to further surround Scarab in comfort, “You’re safe here, with me. You don’t gotta worry about being a god auditor anymore.”

Scarab’s head tilted to avoid eye contact and look down at the floor, "I suppose..." Scarab once again used his arms to wipe at his tears, "Glob, this is pathetic. I'm supposed to be stronger than this- this weakness."

Prismo pulled his arms back before moving them to cup Scarab's face, "Scarab..." He repeated his previous gesture of wiping the tears off the other's face, "Having feelings doesn't make you weak." This time the tears properly began to clear rather than continue to form. "If anything, you're stronger for them!" he encouraged.

Prismo noticed a light blush form on Scarab’s face. He began to feel his own face start to burn at the thought that he’d be fine spending an eternity watching the blue blush deepen upon the other’s face. Hoping to further fluster Scarab, Prismo decided to ramble on.

"I don't think anyone else but the boss themself could have gotten through nearly half of what you did!” he praised. “Like, I can’t tell if you’re amazingly determined or incredibly stubborn, but in just chasing after Fionna and Cake you tracked them down across multiple worlds, faced Golb, and-"

Looking at the now judgmentally deadpan expression on Scarab's face, Prismo realized he probably shouldn't have mentioned the reason Scarab got stuck here in the first place.

Prismo pulled his hands away and quickly tried to revise to save face, “Wait, I meant-!"

"No," Scarab cut him off, briefly raising a hand to ‘pause’ Prismo’s jumbled words. "I understand the sentiment." he sighed, looking away.

Prismo lowered his arms, slumping his shoulders, "Sorry..."

Prismo awkwardly rubbed his arm and avoided eye contact, unsure where to go from there. When he felt a hand placed on his own, Prismo looked back at Scarab who had initiated the contact. The two locked eyes. After a moment's hesitation, Scarab looked away, but kept his hand against Prismo's.

"Thanks."

"No worries." Prismo smiled. "You ready for me to bring Cosmic Owl back in? We don't have to keep playing board games, we can just talk or maybe watch stuff on the Tv wall."

Scarab retracted his arm and wiped his face one last time before nodding. Prismo moved his way around the time room, sticking his head outside where Cosmic Owl had gone. He emerged to find the owl sitting patiently on a rock floating close by.

“Hey dude, we can get back to hanging out now.” Prismo called out.

Seeing Cosmic Owl stand up, Prismo moved back inside. Scarab was doing the best he could in his 2d form to clean up the Monopoly mess. Cosmic Owl fluttered past and wordlessly went right to helping out. Prismo was glad to see them working together. Wanting to help, he neatly stacked the other board games into two simple stacks rather than the disastrous pile they had previously been in.

Prismo took advantage of the silence to think over what had just happened. It was like he was given a glimpse behind the curtains of a stage play. A peek under the mask that only left him yearning to know more about his truly fascinating roommate. Prismo might be bad at reading social cues, but he just knew that Scarab was withholding something more.

Cosmic Owl and Scarab walked over. Now being the only one that wasn’t 2d, Cosmic Owl carried the monopoly game and placed it atop one of the stacks.

“Hot tub?” Prismo suggested.

“Yeah, why not?” Cosmic Owl asked.

In consideration for how Scarab wasn’t as good at traversing the 2d plane as himself, Prismo snapped his fingers to bring the hot tub right against the middle of the back wall. Cosmic Owl didn’t hesitate to fly right in, chilling in one of the corners not connected to the wall so as to allow enough room for both Prismo and Scarab. Prismo went right in after him. For the sake of leaving room for Scarab, he shrank down to only take up the left side so that they could both fit. His legs just barely didn’t go above the water line on the opposite wall of the hot tub. He decided to have his head be projected on the back wall rather than how he usually had it within the hot tup itself, that way he could be at about eye level with them both.

Scarab walked over next to the right side of the hot tub. He put one hand on the ledge, but didn’t get in yet. “Is it even possible to feel the water while in the second dimension?” he asked Prismo.

Cosmic Owl excitedly chimed in, “Ooo, I never thought to ask about that.”

Prismo shrugged, “Can’t really feel the wet- or the weight, but you can feel the warm.” Seeing Scarab raise an eyebrow at this, Prismo reworded himself, “It kinda just feels like a warm blanket… without the weight or actual feeling of the blanket?” He gave up on explaining any further.

“You mean like sunlight?” Scarab sassed.

“Maybe? I dunno, not any sunlight here to compare it to.” Prismo reminded. “Doesn’t matter though, all you gotta know is that it feels nice.”

Scarab let out a rough exhale at Prismo’s nonsense, but it didn’t stop him from taking a step into the hot tub, “Not bad.”

“What, like I’d lie to you?” Prismo laughed.

Scarab again raised an eye at that. Oh, right… Fionna and Cake.

Prismo couldn’t help but laugh a little more, “Hahaha, oh yeahhh. I mean, like aside from when I was trying to hide Fionna and Cake.”

Scarab just rolled his eyes and stepped the rest of the way into the hot tub. He didn’t submerge as far as Prismo had, his legs only going across the bottom and not nearly reaching far enough to trail up the opposite side. From his shoulders and up he remained above the water. His arm across from Prismo rested atop the edge of the hot tub, and the other was left on his lap. He and Prismo were only a small distance apart… it would only take the slightest movement for them to be touched against each other-

Prismo realized he had been staring, zoned out looking at Scarab. Luckily, Scarab had closed his eyes to enjoy the hot tub, and didn’t seem to notice. Prismo quickly looked away only to find that Cosmic Owl, on the other hand, had totally noticed. Cosmic Owl ever so slightly shook his head, indicating that he had definitely picked up on why Prismo had zoned out, but was thankfully deciding not to say anything. Prismo sank the lower half of his head under the water in his slight self-induced discomfort. He couldn’t tell if the warmth he felt on his cheeks was from their submersion into the hot tub or just his own embarrassment.

Deciding to break the silence before it could become any more uncomfortable, Prismo spoke up, “Hey, Scarab,”

“Hm?” Scarab opened his eyes to look over at Prismo, not bothering to turn his head.

“How come you don’t like being called Scrabby? I get that you said no one calls you that anymore, but how come?” Prismo asked. It had been bothering him at the back of his mind since Scarab had gotten upset at Prismo for calling him that.

Scarab looked out at the blank wall across from them, “It started as a simple nickname,” He squinted at the memory, “But it was ruined when I became a god auditor and it was turned to a mockery of my name, from those who hated me for my work, to make me feel lesser.” With a nonchalant shrug from his arm at the edge of the tub, he added, “It didn’t last very long before most feared me too much to say it to my face. A sufficient improvement, I’d say.”

“Most? Wh-oo in their right mind would keep going?” Cosmic Owl questioned, slightly quirking his head to the side.

“Guess.” Scarab bitterly responded, the casual tone swiftly dropped and with a hiss coming from behind his mask.

“Mmm, Fionna?” Prismo tried.

“She only got it from you.” Scarab accused with a glance.

Prismo raised a finger to make another guess, “Then-”

Scarab cut in, “No, I’m not referring to you either. I am well aware that it stems from ignorance rather than malice.”

Prismo lowered his finger.

“Actually,” Scarab continued, now avoiding eye contact. “It is rather…” He swirled his hand, in a withheld search for the right word before ultimately deciding, “‘nice’ to hear you call me that in such a positive sense. It feels almost… familiar? No, that’s not it.”

“Friendly?” Cosmic Owl suggested.

Scarab snapped his fingers. “Yes, that.” he bluntly confirmed.

Rising his head from out the water, Prismo teasingly nudged his elbow at Scarab, trying his luck, “Does that mean I can keep calling you Scrabby?”

Scarab crossed his arms with a huff, looking in the opposite direction of Prismo and refusing to properly answer. Prismo stretched his hands to have a light hold on either of Scarab’s shoulders.

“C’mon, that isn’t an answer,” he said jokingly, shaking both himself and Scarab from side to side as he spoke.

Scarab’s face remained relatively deadpan, accustomed to Prismo’s nonsense. It only encouraged Prismo to prompt further.

He tried coming up with other ways to address Scarab on the spot, “Scarabbb, Scrabs… Scrabble? Pfft, ‘Scrabble’.”

Prismo had to stop shaking Scarab as he had instead managed to make himself laugh. Cosmic Owl seemed to be finding it rather funny as well, needing to use a wing to cover his beak. Scarab just waited patiently for them both to calm down. Admittedly, it took a while since Prismo kept looking back and forth between Cosmic Owl trying desperately not to officially join in and Scarab with his annoyed poker face, the contrast between their reactions only making Prismo find it all funnier.

As Prismo’s laughter was beginning to die down, Scarab muttered his answer, as though in an attempt to withhold it from actually being heard, ”Well, I might not be exactly opposed to it if you were to- occasionally continue using it.”

“Aw heck yeah, I get to be an exception!” Prismo happily exclaimed with a fist pump.

Scarab put his fingers to his forehead like he was already getting a headache, “I’m going to regret that, aren’t I?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it, Scrabby.” Prismo unnecessarily addressed him for the fun of it, causing Scarab to let out an annoyed sigh.

Cosmic Owl held a wing to his face, "Hold on... if you weren't talking about Prismo, then who did you mean?"

Prismo brought his hand to his face, imitating Cosmic Owl while joining him in trying to figure it out. Who would do it? A better question would be who, aside from themselves, isn’t afraid of Scarab?”

“Wait… Prismo do you remember when-” Cosmic Owl brought up.

Prismo managed to figure out where he was going with it. A recollection of his interactions at the party came flooding back to him.

In a shock, Prismo blurted out his realization, “Oh crap, Orbo?!”

Scarab clicked his tongue in affirmation.

“Yikes. I always thought he was real petty with power, but I didn’t think he’d be that blatantly annoying about it!” Prismo complained.

With the roll of his eyes, Scarab propped his head atop his right arm. “To put it quite simply, he is not a fan of the fact that I actually tried to get things done.”

“Wait, is that why you left the party? Cuz Orbo was there?” Prismo wondered aloud.

Something about what he brought up bothered Scarab. It was almost instantaneous how his expression fell from its previous nonchalance into what could only be described as a deep concern. When he glanced over at Prismo, Scarab seemed almost… afraid?

Redirecting Prismo’s question with another question, Scarab spoke very hesitantly, “Speaking of- what happened with him after I… left?”

Prismo thought hard to recall what had happened, “Well, first he was on my ass about letting him see what was going on.” Prismo couldn’t help but notice the slightest cringe from Scarab, “But! I got him to back off by saying I’d do it myself. That’s when I first went down and…” Prismo didn’t want to bring back the memory of how terribly their confrontation went, “yeah.”

“I could figure that much out, but what happened after?” Scarab seethed.

Prismo recoiled his head, nervous of saying something wrong, “Oh, uh- When I went back and ended the party I made up a few excuses. I think he bought it?”

Prismo looked over at Cosmic Owl, seeking assurance on if he really had succeeded since the owl had been there at the time. Prismo always found it difficult to read other people, so he was used to misreading situations.

Cosmic Owl took the hint and added his perspective, “O-hoo yeah, Orbo definitely didn’t know what to think of it. I’m pretty sure you basically weirded him out enough that he just didn’t want to ask further. To be fair though, it still worked.”

Prismo’s face froze in a nervous open smile. The only sound he managed to get out was a stunned, “Ah-“

Scarab’s posture relaxed back to how it was before his question. “Prismo, you absolute buffoon.” he insulted with a sigh.

This snapped Prismo out of it, “HEY!” Making a light hearted fuss of it, he defended himself, “I was sticking my neck out for you, dude!”

“Admittedly, it sounds like it went better than I would have expected.” Scarab easily calmed the situation. Despite this he still had to sass, “Although your success isn’t enough to make me retract my former statement.”

Prismo pouted, trying to think of a comeback. He quickly settled on just blowing a raspberry at Scarab.

Scarab swatted at Prismo’s face, trying to push him away, “EUGH! How dare you enact this unsanitary attack!”

It didn’t take long for their back and forth to devolve into them both flailing their arms at one another, leaning their heads away from the ‘war zone’ in their close confinement resulting from remaining within the hot tub.

As the two went at it, Cosmic Owl enjoyed spectating the tussle, if you could even call it that, as he sipped on one of the cans that had previously been floating around. Man, he should definitely ask Prismo to summon the small snack float they usually had. Eh, it could wait, this was a lot more entertaining to watch.

Chapter Text

Although he couldn’t feel the water that he soaked under, Scarab was enjoying the pleasant warmth. It was able to sooth his muscles and bring a long forgotten peace upon him. Somehow, being in the presence of Prismo and his feathery friend added to his sense of safety. Their conversations were lighthearted, making it easy for Scarab to simply sit back, relax, and listen. They didn’t demand for his participation, and still listened to him at the times when he did speak up to give his input. Sure, he would often be giving a counterpoint to their talk, but they would address what he had to say rather than brush him off like he had previously been so used to. It was like relearning his place in the multiverse, and this time it was far more welcoming to him than ever before.

After a while of him getting more comfortable participating in the conversation, the topic focused on him. It only made sense that they would want to learn about his line of work. Scarab had refrained from sharing too much, but he satisfied their curiosity with a few stories of his captures of wanted gods. How his plans went flawlessly solely because of his well developed abilities. Not wanting to embarrass himself, he didn’t share any stories of when things went wrong. Regardless that both of the others already knew his worst failure yet, failing to capture Fionna and Cake, they still gaped at the situations he had been able to get through.

Eventually, while Scarab was in the middle of telling how he had neutralized a god that was on the run, suspected to be plotting a cosmic crime, Prismo enthusiastically interrupted him, “Wait, wait! I know that place!”

Prismo then summoned his remote and turned on the TV wall. With the press of another button, the seemingly perpetual bright lighting within the time room was dimmed, making the screen easier to see and giving Scarab’s eyes a rest from the blinding brightness. It didn’t take much searching before Prismo found the universe that Scarab had been describing. Each of them gave their own experiences from the universe; Prismo granting a wish to someone from the world that resulted in the land to become overgrown with vegetation, Cosmic Owl needing to appear in a dream where the dreamer was confronted with their fear of spiders, and of course Scarab finishing his story of searching the land for his target and neutralizing them. Afterwards the three of them went on to continue scrolling through various universes, many of which Scarab could recognize having visited on the job.

Eventually they reached a universe that made Prismo pause his rambling. On the screen was a human that Scarab was able to recognize as being the male version of Fionna. There was a strong resemblance to the one he had met in the first world that he tracked the crossovers to, the one that attempted to hide them in his barn and later attacked him with fire before being swiftly taken care of. This version of him currently on the screen, however, was noticeably more blissful. A defining feature would be his hair that burst from the back of his head piece and flowed down to his legs.

“And which universe is this?” Scarab asked.

When Prismo remained unnaturally quiet, Scarab shot a look at Cosmic Owl. The bird seemed concerned for his friend. Scarab looked back at Prismo, unsure if he should repeat himself or change the topic.

Luckily Prismo found his words, “The Land of Ooo.”

Scarab cocked his head at this. Something about the place sounded familiar.

“It’s uh, where I got the idea for Fionna and Cake.” Prismo hesitantly shared.

Scarab huffed, “Of course it is.” He wanted to be bitter about it, but he also wasn’t against putting it aside for the moment. After all, he’d rather not have to leave the warmth of the hot tub over an unnecessary scuffle.

On the screen, the human was running through some forest, tackling any enemies that got in his way.

Deciding to set aside his already well known criticism for what Prismo had done, Scarab made a comment, “I suppose I could see some of the resemblance to the crossover.” Taking into consideration that it had actually been two crossovers, curiosity got the better of him, “Where is the other one?”

Prismo froze, not moving his gaze from the screen. Almost to himself, he softly whispered, “He’s not… here.”

Scarab scoffed, “Well I can see that. Just locate him, surely it couldn't be that difficult.”

Cosmic Owl sucked in a breath. Something was wrong. Prismo didn’t share more. He didn't say anything to answer Scarab's question. He didn’t direct the screen elsewhere to show off his character inspiration. He just cringed in on himself, not providing Scarab an answer.

Scarab dropped his harsh demeanor when he realized it. Did he say something wrong? Pry too far? Insult the wishmaster’s creation… somehow? It didn’t make any sense to Scarab, mere moments ago they were getting along fine. Should he speak up? or let Prismo figure it out himself? “Prismo?” He settled on asking, driven by a pestering curiosity, and obviously not an actual care for the other.

Prismo barely reacted with a blink. His face remained unfocused, watching the screen. With a neutral tone he eventually spoke, "I'm- gonna go check on my pickles."

It was highly off-putting, the stark juxtaposition from his previously cheery attitude to how distant he suddenly became. It felt haunting to Scarab how Prismo glided his way out the time room, not even bothering with a goodbye. Scarab got out of the hot tub, trying to trail after Prismo. He wanted to reach out, to stop Prismo from leaving, but the wishmaster was already gone by the time he took his first step out of the hot tub. There goes the only source of warmth that Scarab had been taking pleasure in.

"Oh, Sh-hoot. That's not good." Cosmic Owl fretted.

"What? What's not good?" Scarab turned his head back at the owl, immensely confused. What the fuck just happened?

"It's not really my place to say-"

Quick to interrupt, Scarab raised his voice "What is going on?!" Upset that things were being kept from him, he even shifted to his more stern voice, “I demand that you tell me at once!"

Cosmic Owl was quick to hop out of the hot tub. Easily intimidated, despite being protected in an entirely separate dimension, he stuttered, “H-hey! There’s no reason to yell at me!”

Scarab clenched his fists, restraining himself from further shouting at the second ever god to tolerate, or even accept, his presence. Instead he tried to remain somewhat calm, withholding his frustration with seething breaths.

Cosmic Owl held up his wings in a calming motion, "Look- look. It's not my place to share details, but Prismo's been going through a tough time since before you came in and hounded him about Fionna and Cake." Cosmic Owl's voice lowered into one of earnest melancholy, "All in all, you probably saved him."

Scarab lowered his guard, perplexed, and the tension in the air was dropped as quickly as it had started.

"Hm? from what?" Scarab couldn't hide his growing confusion nor curiosity. There wasn't any other danger that Prismo had been in other than the threat that he provided, so how could he have possibly saved Prismo when all he had done was try to interfere?

"From being lonely, man. Isolation is a deep pit to get out of."

More invested than he would admit, Scarab interrogated further, "What of his parties?"

"Well, ah... he actually stopped a while ago. He shut a lot of us ou-hoot; wouldn’t even pick up my calls."

Scarab was befuddled. “Why?” It was so- out of character for Prismo, always upbeat to the point it could be considered bothersome.

“We…” Cosmic Owl spoke sadly, “We all grieve in our own ways, Scarab.”

That- no, that’s not. Scarab struggled to take it in. Prismo, the reckless, rule breaking, energetic, eternal being who could literally grant wishes with the snap of his fingers, was grieving?

Cosmic Owl began to cautiously step away, “I- I gotta go. The dream tokens are probably piling up-“

Scarab was too stunned to stop the owl as he hurriedly flew away. That is if he could even do anything to stop him other than shout. Scarab was alone. He didn’t understand how, but he managed to push away the only company that would have him.

What happened?

With Cosmic Owl gone, there was no one to answer his many questions. There was nothing to do. He could not summon the laptop and write. There was no job he could do since the room had already been cleaned, and he didn't have anything to clean it with anyway. Even the board games were gone as Cosmic Owl must have taken them back with him. Deciding that some action had to be taken, Scarab figured there was only one option left: Go find Prismo, and get some actual answers.

Scarab left the room from the same exit that Prismo had used. Taking in the new surroundings, it was luckily much more manageable this time around. Corridors that led all over the place, but gave him an easy path to walk. All he had to do was find one that led to the pickle room. He wandered aimlessly, unsure of how to navigate through. Many times he ended up going in large circles, or possibly just entering entirely identical rooms, telling the difference would be impossible.

Scarab picked up the pace, becoming frantic to find the room amidst the ever repeating corridors. Tile after tile, seemingly going on forever, it would drive any mortal mad trying to get through without a guide. He, however, was not mortal. He should be able to figure it out. The chaos continued until, finally, he turned a corner and was suddenly in the entranceway to the pickle room.

Looking around, it appeared just the same as the last time he had seen it, although the pickle jar that he had smashed open weeks ago was no longer there. The only issue: Prismo was similarly nowhere to be seen.

“Prismo?” Scarab asked, unsure if it was even worth saying anything.

No response.

Grumbling at the prospect of his search through the halls being for nothing, Scarab made sure to check the entire room.

Still, nothing but pickles.

Oh come on! Where else in this blasted labyrinth of blocks could Prismo possibly have gone?

Defeated, Scarab left. The corridors remained unfamiliar, so whether he was still searching for Prismo or heading back to the main time room, he himself didn’t even know anymore. There was nowhere for him to go from here, and yet there was everywhere, so he went forward. At some point he just tuned out as he walked, he was bound to find something, and eventually he did. It wasn’t much, but he noticed that the hallway he walked through currently was far longer than the ones he had gotten used to.

Possibly multiple minutes worth of walking later, an exit -or entrance?- could be seen, still somewhat far ahead. The tiles had long faded to a dull red. Now paying more attention, he picked up on some sounds coming echoing down at him. It was almost foreign, the sounds of… crying? It had been so long mindlessly walking that Scarab had momentarily forgotten why he was trying to find Prismo in the first place.

Right, Prismo was acting weirdly distant, it was probably Scarab’s fault, somehow, and he wanted answers.

Testing the waters as he got closer, Scarab called out, “Prismo?”

The sounds that he presumed to be sobs halted wish a gasp, definitely Prismo. Scarab was unsure if he should still continue into the room.

Certainly not because he was worried about whatever state he might find Prismo in. It obviously didn’t matter to him if Prismo was in misery. He’d never be concerned for well being of the first god in eons to have shown him care and support. Clearly he was just… curious as to what could make a wishmaster retreat, and he most certainly wasn’t lying to himself.

Cautiously, he entered the room anyway. He recognized it, the one he had broken into all that time ago, where the crossovers just barely escaped with the help of Prismo’s remote. At the other end in an indent of the room was Prismo’s physical body, asleep as it should be. And on the small wall to the left of it, there was Prismo. His size was shrunken compared to normal, though still just noticeably larger than Scarab. Only the upper section of him was actually on the wall, while the rest was laid on the floor, similarly to someone slightly sitting up in bed. The most noticeable thing about it though? How Prismo was already trying to cover up the obvious signs that he’d been crying, likely from the moment Scarab called out his name. It tugged at something deep within Scarab... repulsion? No, not that. It wasn't like the sight of it made him want to leave. If anything he felt the opposite effect, he wanted to get closer, to be there for him.

“Oh- Scrabby!” Prismo finished his shambled attempt to look normal, “I- ah, wasn’t expecting you.”

“You lied about where you were going.” he merely stated, using some effort to keep his voice steady, trying to avoid giving away just how deeply the sad sight was affecting him.

“Yeah… it’s not really important.” his voice was dry, depressed. Prismo tried to change the subject, ”I guess you need something?”

“Cosmic Owl’s left.” An explanation, plain and simple.

“Oh.” Prismo blinked. “You need me to summon the laptop then? It’ll be in the main room. You can just- leave now.“

Scarab shook his head and spoke with a sigh, “That’s not why I’m here, Prismo.”

Wordlessly, he walked across the room towards Prismo. Why had he come here? Moments ago it would've been easy to say it was because he wanted answers, but no, that wasn't really why, was it? Scarab glanced over him, at the state the wishmaster was in. That he once would have called pitiful and moved on. Prismo grew nervous under his silent watch. This time when Scarab looked, he really looked, and took it all in.

The short stubble on Prismo's face that had been there for who knows how long. Bags under his eye, entirely visible, and possibly even more prominent than before. The unsteady grimace under his gaze that told of concealed sorrows, and the grief that was being held deep within his shaky pupil.

Oh no… this was not the wishmaster that he had sworn vengeance upon. That he had told himself he would eternally hate for taking the job that he himself had wanted. That had won over nearly every god’s affection and loyalty with reckless partying. That Scarab had tried so hard to get fired for his incompetence.

No… this was Prismo, and he was lonely.

Instead of laughing at his misery or even just leaving him to be alone once more, Scarab took a seat, criss cross, right next to Prismo. Scarab had been lonely before, for his entire time as an auditor, and for the time before that. He had been lonely until Prismo was there for him, putting in a good word to the boss despite how Scarab had acted. In turn, he too would be there for Prismo.

Scarab put a hint of delicacy into his voice so as to not come off as hostile, like he often was, “Who was he?”

“Wh-huh?” was all Prismo managed to stumble out.

“The one that you based the cat off of. Who was he?”

Prismo sadly looked down at himself, tears quickly reclaiming their place in his eye, “Jake… he was my best friend.”

“Would you…” Scarab tried to think of what a reasonable person would do to comfort someone in such a saddened state, “like to talk about it?”

Prismo’s mouth wobbled, and eye watered. It wasn’t long before he lunged himself to be draped upon Scarab’s shoulder, shuddering with soft sobs and hiccups. Scarab tensed at the sudden contact; he wasn’t used to helping others in this way. He eased up as Prismo kept holding him for his support. It was Prismo’s turn to cry.

He could barely form words, yet Prismo still bumbled between sobs, “I juh- snifff just m-miss himn, so muh-muuch!”

Scarab, completely out of his depth, tried patting Prismo on the back, “Er- There… there?”

Prismo gave a large sniffle. “H-he’s… the oh-nly wisher that’s ever cared abouh-about me, and… now he’s gh-gooone.” Prismo got choked up at coming to terms with the last part.

Prismo kept crying on his shoulder, wracked with hiccups, sniffles, and sobs. They remained like that for a while, Scarab letting him cry for as long as he needed. He didn't complain about tears falling onto his exoskeleton, nor the horrid sound of Prismo blowing his nose almost directly into Scarab's face using tissues that he repeatedly had to summon then dematerialize. Scarab stayed where he sat, just to be there for Prismo, and tried not to think too hard about all the things that led him up to this point. After Prismo performed a particularly thorough wiping his face with tissues, Scarab figured that now would be the time to speak again, if any.

“How did you meet?” he asked in an attempt to better understand what Prismo was going through.

“Wuh- huh?”

Scarab tried to put it delicately, “I am… perplexed with how one could care so greatly for a mortal being, despite them being destined to die.” Something in Prismo’s eyes sunk further and immediately Scarab attempted to amend it, “I- I thought that, perhaps there was something I am missing?”

Prismo somewhat quieted. The tears still prominent and his sunken face. Oh Glob, had Scarab made it worse? How was he supposed to know if-

“It was under… tough circumstances for him.” Prismo said, largely choked up and abnormally quiet because of it.

Scarab gave Prismo his full attention.

Prismo’s voice remained depressed, “He and Finn came in right after The Lich. Lich wished for the extinction of all life n’ I did it. Finn wished for Lich to never exist, n’ I did that too.”

Prismo got caught up with clearing the tears that had filled his eye, likely making things blurry. Scarab waited patiently. Prismo could continue whenever he was ready.

“Jake… well he only thought to wish for a sandwich.” Prismo let out a chuckle at the memory, finding it amusing. Prismo looked Scarab in the eyes, “H-hey, you’re not still gonna be mad and go reporting me if I admit to some maybe possibly not so legal things, right?” Scarab sighed, of course there was even more illegal activity that he hadn’t even been alerted to.

Prismo had sounded completely unsure of himself, unsure if Scarab still hated his guts. And honestly? Scarab almost didn't know for himself. The thought of letting go the hatred that had been driving his work for centuries? It scared him. Who would he be without it? Would he even be anything at all, or just another unwanted god auditor lost to the job?

What Scarab ultimately decided was that, perhaps, just this once he could let it go, “We'll call it 'even', for covering for me earlier. I'm not an auditor anymore, anyway. No one would ever listen to anything I have to say.”

Sure, he was right about that, all he had was his own word and none to tell it to other than Prismo himself. But there was something more to it. Prismo already knew that he wouldn't ever get in any actual trouble, so why had he asked?

“Thanks, Scrabs.” Prismo said with a brief hug to accentuate his thanks. "But, for the record, I'd still listen to you." he said before pulling back to where he had been simply laying against the wall.

Something in Scarab felt touched that even now Prismo cared about what he might have to say. Even better, Prismo’s mood was noticeably improving, and Scarab couldn’t help but feel proud? that he had been the one to better it.

“Well?” Scarab asked, genuinely wanting to hear how Prismo's story about himself went.

“R-right.” Prismo sniffled to clear his nose and talk more clearly, “Well, I didn’t grant the first wish he made.” Such a petty cosmic crime that couldn’t be tracked, traced, or otherwise noticed. “Jus’ summoned him a sandwich instead.” Prismo was back to smiling as he shared the memory, “He hung around while Finn’s wish universe played out. Cosmic Owl visited, it was real fun, but Jake still cared about himself and Finn returning to his version of Ooo, so I… helped him figure out a wish that would work out for him: to have the Lich’s original wish send them back to Ooo instead.”

Prismo took a deep breath and sighed out some of the tension that had built up in his limbs.

”After that he was invited to all my parties, and it was a blast. At… at one point he and Finn came in tryna wish their way into the citadel to- I guess find Finn’s dad, and I was-" Only now coming to terms with many things all at once, Prismo interrupted his own sentence with a Shaky voice, "Glob, I haven’t even told Cosmic Owl about this- I was willing to let them wake my body up to get in.”

“YOU WHAT?!” Scarab was too appalled to contain his voice.

“I- was willing to, but…” Prismo stuttered on like a scolded child, “Well- the Lich sorta killed my host body first." He quickly tacked on an unmentioned context, “Cuz’ he was like- still stuck in the time room from when I helped Jake that first time.” Prismo flinched at his own words, bracing for whatever Scarab had to say.

Scarab, meanwhile, couldn’t even find words this time. He was in an almost absolute shock. His hands were held in front of himself, fingers spread into sharp points. All he could manage was to look at Prismo with the most serious death glare he could possibly muster as a shadow on the wall. It must've been somewhat effective though, given how Prismo slightly cringed under his gaze.

Trying to make light of the situation, Prismo went on to pointing out the obvious, “I’m here now though, I had a plan B!"

Scarab's initial shock was turned into utter dumbfound at how Prismo was able to brush off such events like it was unimportant.

"With some complicated time loop in the time room stuff, past me got a parallel version of Jake to sleep in my place and revive me. Then that version of him morphed into my real bods to prevent crazy time paradox stuffs."

Scarab felt like he very well could have just taken physical damage from all of what he had heard, “How is it that you are simultaneously both the most painfully idiotic and yet resourcefully intelligent being that I have ever come across?"

“I dunno, man, I just sleep here.” Prismo joked, pointing at his sleeping 3d form.

Scarab facepalmed his frustrations away, needing to rake his hand down his own face before being able to somewhat mentally recover.

“Snrk- Sorry, sorry." Prismo laughed, always looking towards the positives, "It’s funny how hard you’re trying to not kill me right now.”

“Tell anyone of this conversation, and I will kill you for a second time, I swear to Glob-!” Scarab threatened in defense of his reputation, standing up to further prove his point that he totally would.

Prismo merely looked up at him, gave a friendly smile, summoned the laptop and made an offer, "Wanna keep writing?"

Damnit, there was no way he could refuse that. It had him sitting right back down, once again putting himself on the same level as Prismo. The subtle lean towards Scarab didn't go unnoticed. Of course Scarab grumbled some intangible remark about it after having just been made fun of, but it didn't stop him from scooting over and returning the gesture. The comforting warmth from before returned. The same feeling of warmth that had come from their proximity in the hot tub and brought him such soothing comfort. The same warmth he felt each time Prismo embraced him. Scarab felt his face grow hot as he realized how content he truly was to simply sit there with Prismo as company. Perhaps… his demotion might not be as bad as he thought.

Prismo opened up where they had last left their story. Oddly, he paused, "... Hey, Scarab?"

"hm?"

"Thanks for being here. Even though you could have easily just- left me alone again." His tone was painfully sincere and riddled with fear at the thought of the other possibility.

Scarab sighed, "We'll call it even."

Chapter Text

Time within the time room was both ever-present and completely void. An interesting phenomenon, but not one that mattered when considering how time was actually spent. Prismo never bothered to assign scarab any real work; instead, Scarab had to take it upon himself to keep matters within the time room running smoothly. His self-appointed work mostly consisted of dusting, disinfecting, and picking up after the beer cans that Prismo would leave lying around. It wasn't very often that he would be faced with the beer cans, however there were times where he would leave Prismo to his own devices only to later find the messy remnants of how Prismo seemed to cope. As an immortal being, the alcohol didn't necessarily effect Prismo, but was more like a habit that he must have picked up from engaging with mortals so often. The drinks provided a placebo effect, allowing Prismo a mechanism to vent his misery.

Occasionally, Scarab would even catch Prismo in the act. When this would happen, Scarab took it upon himself to get a head start at cleaning up, but he also would make an effort to make conversation. It seemed to help with Prismo's mood, and if nothing else it stopped him from irresponsibly consuming as much as he otherwise would.

Scarab was having trouble balancing his time to himself and his time around Prismo. He found that he simply couldn’t get Prismo out of his head, maybe an effect of there being very little to look at in the time room. More specifically though, Scarab found that his time alone would end up being spent thinking about how Prismo had comforted him, and how he had then comforted Prismo in return. There was something so terribly vulnerable about the way they had interacted, so… weak, and yet he still liked the thought. Scarab had grown accustomed to sitting beside Prismo, andfor them to both physically lean against one another. It somehow made him feel more safe than any amount of combat training ever could.

It became a habit that Scarab went to Prismo as a distraction. Away from his jumbled thoughts and crippling pains. Leaning his back against Prismo would help to ease the insistent itch that lay hidden under his elytra. Sometimes it merely felt sore and could be ignored after a stretch, other times it itched like a spreading static and proved to be an annoyance, but the worst times were when a wing would crinkle itself around in an attempt to straighten out. The pain felt akin to if a human’s broken bones were clumsily forced together by someone inexperienced in how bones worked. It never worked, either. What little remained attached was far too twisted and bent to ever flatten out to how it once was.

Scarab spent much of his free time delving into the complex worldbuilding of their story. He and Prismo would spend hours writing together and brainstorming ideas. Scarab had a decent idea of how things would play out, but Prismo's input helped him to properly build up what he wanted in the story.

After Scar had come to the conclusion that Prism was the prime suspect, he carried out an investigation at once. Scar didn’t know the way through the woods to reach the Wishing well and its keeper directly, so instead he took it upon himself to begin a stakeout. He was aware that the wish keeper would make visits to the local market, so he strategically kept watch over the edge of the woods at times when it might be reasonable to find Prism on his way out.

During his second watch, Scar got to witness firsthand what happens to those that selfishly seek the wishing well. One of the kingdom knights, no less. They went in with their full armor and a small sack containing what was most definitely coins, rumored to be what the well accepts in exchange for a wish fulfilled. The knight went into the woods, emanating unearned confidence and covered in pristine armor that indicated they must have only recently graduated from a rookie. Scar didn’t bother to stop them, it would be pointless and he didn’t want to expose his self-appointed mission. Only minutes later, a scream of terror came from the woods along with snarls that were more difficult to make out. Terrible really, that such pristine new armor would be lost to the wood-dwelling beasts that served as the well’s natural defense.

Tales told of the beasts, often described as shadowy creatures of nightmares. They were highly efficient in their job. No one quite knew how it was that Prism could navigate the forest so casually with those beings always out and about, but the kingdom didn’t care so long as he would navigate those that the ruler personally approved to make a wish.

It took 3 more days of Scar’s diligent watch before Prism was finally seen on his routine market visit. Scar trailed behind him, keeping a safe distance and diligent watch. Scar kept track of who Prism interacted with, and even noted that he seemed close with Cosmo. There were small things that Scar noticed about Prism as he went about his grocery run. Frequent looking over his shoulder, small nervous twitches in his fingers, and some unseen urgency.

What really got Scar interested was the way in which Prismo went about town, taking winding turns that made it difficult to follow, a clear sign that something was up. Unfortunately for Scar, it caused him to lose track of Prism’s whereabouts. With no better idea of where the Wish keeper would go, Scar once again waited near the entrance to the forest. The sun lowered on the horizon indicating the passage of time, it had been approximately 30 ‘medieval minutes’ before Prism was seen once again returning home (Prismo had insisted that their story have an easy to reference passage of time since it took place somewhere with a day and night cycle.)

Not wanting to lose his only lead, Scar made the impulsive decision to follow Prism to his home, intending to confront him there. He carried no intent nor means to make a wish, so expertly following the wish keeper’s path should allow for safe travel. Occasionally he heard whispers, too hushed to make out. What he could recognize is that at least for a moment at the start of their trek, Prism was the source of one of the whispers. Prism maintained a strong pace, weaving this way and that through the trees with trunks so thick that it proved to be no issue hiding behind them. The challenge came in keeping up without alerting the other to his presence.

Scar managed to make his way into the forest without encountering a single beast, nor cause Prism to look behind himself. He watched from behind a tree as Prism emerged into the clearing where the wishing well could be seen atop a hill, and right next to it was also the keeper’s cottage. Scar was so caught up looking at his surroundings that he didn’t even realize Prism had stopped in his tracks and turned around.

“And who are you, that the nightmares have allowed through?”

Scar jumped at how the keeper so readily addressed him. Had he known he was here all along?

Scarab had been upset with Prismo at this part. They fought over whether Prismo’s character would actually be able to detect Scar following him. The two of them even called Cosmic Owl to settle their dispute. Not wanting to take either side, Cosmic Owl had recommended they each roll a dice and whoever got the higher number got to decide on what was put in. Prismo rolled and 5 and Scarab a 2. Once again, Prismo ended up getting what he had wanted. Scarab had to suppress the urge to make it into a big deal.

It was normal for them to disagree on what should happen next in the story, but it was becoming harder for him to really want to fight against the other. Not that he couldn’t, he just- something changed since he had been assigned to work under Prismo.

When he would argue with Prismo previously, it had been done with bitter malice, actively trying to get on the other’s nerves. All he wanted was for Prismo to feel the same level of crushing defeat that Scarab had. Yet for some odd reason, Prismo still wanted Scarab there with him. Influenced by loneliness or not, there was something to how Prismo welcomed him in. It made Scarab sick to think about, his mixed feelings clashing and colliding.

Scar emerged from the shadows and stated his business. Prism was suspect number 1, and that Scar was dedicated to finding the culprit and putting them to justice. Prism didn’t argue back, instead, he even invited Scar within his cottage. Certainly an odd move for someone just accused of murder.

Prism plead not guilty, but welcomed the company that came with Scar’s investigation. Scar even thought to question how it was that Prism was able to avoid the wrath of the nightmare creatures. Prism merely claimed that they liked him, that he knew them well. Prism even suggested that the only reason Scar was allowed through was not because of him following Prism, but because Prism was curious as to why he was being followed by something without means to make a wish and had told them to leave Scar alone.

The two of them talked, and when Scar brought up the bracelet, the reason for his suspicions, Prism brushed it off saying that it had been missing for some time now. It might make sense, however, it didn’t stop Scar from his investigation.

Scar continued his unwarranted search of both the cottage and clearing. Prism showed no defiance, and chatted away at the stories behind many of his possessions. The stars twinkled in the sky, and after searching the entire premises Scar found nothing.

Upon announcing that it be time for his departure, Prism cheekily offered up another idea, “How about you stay here for the night? Y’know, take the heavy armor off and you can sleep in the most relaxing bed imaginable…” He threw in an advertisement for his friend, “Curtesy of Cosmo, he’s got some real quality beds.”

When Scarab saw what Prismo had written, he asked, “Didn’t you say that the cottage only had Prism’s bed?”

Prismo’s face grew red. Scarab guessed it must have been from being embarrassed about having forgotten his own description of his character’s home.

Prismo avoided making eye contact, “O-oh, yeah- I was just thinking that… maybe they could both-“ Prismo shook his head clear of whatever he was thinking, “No, no. Nevermind. It’s nothing.“

“It almost sounds like…” Scarab pondered aloud.

He never did finish sharing his thought, instead becoming distracted at how his own face warmed under the idea that Prismo’s character might possibly be offering the idea that the bed be shared.

Scarab felt an itch crawl up his back. Under his elytra, his muscles pleaded to be allowed open movement. It was a long forgotten signal that his wings would flutter when he became particularly delighted. Scarab had to lean back against Prismo to ignore the restless feeling and keep the embarrassing urge subdued.

The thought was ridiculous. Why would they ever? Prismo must’ve meant something else. Scarab shouldn't be letting these ideas get to him in this way. He must be overthinking it. Still, the thought of them- of their characters both making use of the same bed lingered.

Scar declined the offer, accusing it of being a manipulative strategy of some sort. Instead, Prism walked Scar back out of the forest despite it being late into the night.

When they reached the wood’s exit, Scar continued on without a word. Prism kindly waved a goodbye.

Before even taking a rest, Scar reported back to his boss, Bob R. Scar suggested that action had to be taken to more heavily investigate the murders taking place, only for his concerns to be shut down. It came as no wonder, Prism ranked highly in his position to the kingdom, even the suggestion of a public investigation involving him might negatively reflect on the kingdom.

Scar left defeated, only to be stopped by lower rank guards that seemed to be frantically looking for him. There had been another murder. Scar heard secondhand that this time the arms had been cut off, and missing.

Reinvigorated, Scar burst right back into Bob R.’s office. For the sake of the safety of the people, he demanded that he be allowed further investigation privileges. It was still a no.

“Hey Scrabby, how come they aren’t listening? Like- Scar does have a point, even though we agreed that Prism isn’t the killer, it’d still be reasonable to at least investigate.” Prismo had asked him when he was proofreading what Scarab wrote.

“Reason rarely changes opinions.” Scarab replied bitterly, though not wanting to delve into his own experience with it.

Chapter Text

The sound of clanking pickle jars filled the room. Ever so carefully they were placed and moved next to one another onto a shelf by blue hands that remained in a separate dimension. Most shelves sat empty of their usual presentation of Prismo’s pickles. Instead, two thirds of his collection lay across the floor. More jars were stacked upon one another the closer they were to the wall, where it was easier to place and pick up again.

Prismo shifted his form, moving low along the wall to read each of the jar labels as he passed by. Each jar came with their own fond memory of how it came to be. Identifying a jar that fit what he was looking for, Prismo picked it up and wordlessly extended his arm to hand the jar over to Scarab restocking the cubby of shelves he stood within. The jar was taken by Scarab, and once it had been looked over was tucked away on a lower shelf.

Prismo was proud of Scarab’s improvement, he was getting a lot better at interacting with 3d objects while existing in the 2d plane. Being able to type on the laptop was one thing, but fully picking up and manipulating just the basic pickle jars had taken practice.

It had started with a simple curiosity from Scarab, peeking into the room while Prismo would be preparing a new batch. When Prismo noticed his presence, he welcomed Scarab to join him. At first Scarab would sit in a corner and continue his writing with Prismo periodically checking in on how the story was going. Having company while he worked, Prismo filled the silence with mostly nonsensical chatter and fun facts he knew about pickles. During one pickle making session, Prismo noticed Scarab seemed to be getting frustrated and rapidly deleting whatever he typed shortly after typing it, a bad case of writer’s block. Prismo suggested getting his mind off it and joining in pickle making. Just like that, the two shared in another hobby.

It was Scarab’s idea to reorganize how the sealed pickle jars were stored. Prismo got over dramatically berated for his ‘complete lack of care for organization’ when he had forgotten which shelf he left the pickles from the previous batch. Prismo was getting more and more used to Scarab’s harsh comments. Honestly, it was rather refreshing how straightforward Scarab was with his words compared to most beings that Prismo interacted with. Though, how are you really expected to sort pickles? Apparently the answer was sectioned by type, dill, sweet, sour, etc. and then arranged based on how long ago they had been made. The second part was pretty difficult since, well, time works differently here, but they made due by basing it off of the batch number.

The two of them continued with their respective tasks for sorting. Prismo found the quiet between them to be both comforting and unnerving. Normally he’d fill the silence with his chatter, but he can’t come up with anything worthwhile to talk about. Prismo felt all too aware that he’d been falling for Scarab, but now what? How’s he supposed to act? What does he say? Scarab seemed to be doing just fine focusing on his self appointed task. Should he even say anything? Maybe he’s just overthinking things, he should probably just relax…

Relax? Is he not already relaxed?? This is supposed to be a chill hobby, why isn’t he relaxing?!?

Glob, he is sooo not used to this. He’d only ever been asked out, not been the one that wants to ask. His past relationships never really worked, but at least they were able to give it a chance. Would Scarab ever be willing to do the same?

“Prismo.” Scarab looked down at him with a questioning glance.

Prismo’s thoughts were forcefully pulled from him as he looked up at Scarab on the shelf.

“You’ve been unusually quiet.” A statement.

”Uhh?” Was he supposed to answer, to explain himself?

“If there is something you wish to say, and there usually is, you haven’t held back before. Is there an issue?”

Primso blinked, processing the unexpected question. Straight to the point and… concerned. Already they had been through so much together.

Scarab rolled his eyes at Prismo’s prolonged silence, “Is it time we move onto the next shelf?”

Of course, Scarab was always good at reading him and knowing where to go from there. Prismo was glad that he decided not to push. No doubt that if Scarab questioned long enough then Prismo would inevitably blurt something he doesn’t mean to, and Scarab probably knew that too.

Prismo brought his mind back to the present moment. He smiled, “Yeah, that might be a good idea.”

Encouraged by Scarab’s concern, Prismo returned to his usual talkative nature. The pause between sentences were filled with Scarab’s usual hums of consideration or response, reassuring that he was indeed interested in whatever nonsense Prismo had to say. When Prismo’s mind blanked on how to continue the conversation, Scarab would speak up with exactly what was needed to flow Prismo into a new thought to talk about.

Yeah, this feels right.

If Prismo could grant his own wish, this moment would last forever. It would be even nicer if they were more than friends, but he wouldn’t ever want it to be through the selfishly manipulative power of a wish. He’s seen how such a thing can change people. No matter what direction it may go, he’d rather their connection to be real.

Sadly, even within the time room things had to progress. They were pulled out of their discussion when Prismo got the sense that someone had entered the time room. Probably a wisher. Prismo had to politely excuse himself to leave for the main room. He would split, but that would just give him more work to do at the same time.

Arriving in the infinitely familiar room, Prismo was surprised to not find a wisher waiting for him, but Orbo. Prismo’s brow furrowed, wondering if he had done something to warrant the visit.

“Heyyyyy, Orbo…?” Prismo was audibly unsure, his question obvious from his wavering tone.

Orbo rotated to face Prismo looking as laid back as ever, “Ah! There ya are mate, was wonderin’ how long till ya showed up.” His casual tone indicated he either ignored Prismo’s blatant confusion or failed to catch on.

Prismo put a hand on his hip and tried to wave off Orbo’s comment, “Hehehh yeahhhh. I mean it was only like a minute or two.” Quick to get the attention off of himself, Prismo addressed the elephant in the room with the click of his tongue, “Well then. Why are you… what uhh- sorry what brings you here of all places?”

When he spoke, Prismo had pointed down at the floor of the time room. His face was pulled back into an uncomfortably awkward position.

Orbo idly rolled back and forth, “Wanted to make sure you’d be able to join us at the upcoming office party in- mmm about a month from now.” Orbo’s smile grew as he talked enthusiastically about the event, “It’s finally my turn to announce the employees of the century!”

Orbo continued to rattle on about all the different categories of achievement. The specifics fell to deaf ears as Prismo closed his eye, put a hand over where his heart probably would be, and let out a quiet phew. A more genuine smile came to his face as he could recall how nice it was last time.

“It’s been that long since the last one already?” Prismo wondered aloud, stopping Orbo from continuing his tangent.

“Yeap. It’s probably not a surprise that ya once again qualified as a VIP. Parta’ my responsibility for this’s been goin’ to hand em’ out.” Orbo rolled himself around to reveal two VIP lanyards crassly taped on his side. “As usual, ya can give the other to a plus one of your choice.”

Pinching the keycards attached to the lanyards, Prismo pulled them off. He held them up to his face, taking a moment to appreciate the simple design.

“I’m guessin’ yer gonna bring Cosmic Owl again? Gods know it’s the only way he makes it in.”

Prismo gave a shrug,“I dunno…” He snapped and the lanyards were teleported off for storage. “It might be fun to invite Scrabby this time.”

Cosmic Owl probably won’t mind, and asking Scarab to go with him might be a good opportunity.

Orbo raised an eyebrow, “Him, really?“

Prismo’s form lowered on the wall, “I guess?” Prismo continued to defend both Scarab and himself. “Y’know he’s actually pretty cool to be around when you get to know him.”

Orbo rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Mate, Scrabby tried to get your little universe busted, n’ refused to stop when told. Decidedly un-cool.”

To remain civil, Prismo hid his disgust at the way Orbo used Scarab’s nickname like a poison. Prismo took a breath to calm himself before recovering to cheerily make his counterpoint, “Actually we’ve been getting along pretty well! He’s taken well to learning about some of the stuff I like doing, and has even been helping sort my pickle collection.”

Orbo gave a disapproving look. “Whatever, mate.” He turned to leave before adding, “Don’t act surprised when he gets in trouble fighting with someone he’s pissed off before, that’ll be your responsibility t’deal with.”

With that, Orbo rolled outside the time room and teleported himself away. Prismo blew out a huff of air in annoyance at the unnecessary pushback that Orbo had provided. He already knew Scarab was widely disliked for both his previous job and antagonistic attitude, but Prismo was perfectly willing to deal with whatever dip in reputation might come from inviting Scrabby. He's more worried if Scarab would even accept the invitation. Would it change how well they get along currently? Would Scarab still look at him the same? With the same exasperation at Prismo's antics, the same cautious curiosity of the hobbies now possible to him with the endless free time, the same excitement, and occasional hint of bloodlust, while sharing his additions to their shared fanfic... Prismo's point being, he liked the dynamic they had grown, and he really didn't wanna junk it up.

Prismo returned to the pickle room to find Scarab going back and forth along the bottom wall moving pickle jars out of a pile into various larger stacks. The shelves remained the same as when Prismo had left.

"Couldn't make it back up to the shelves?" Prismo teased, alerting Scarab that he was back.

Scarab stood still holding one of the jars. He put a hand on his hip and rolled his eyes, "Is belittling my effort the only reason you returned, or might you plan to be of any assistance?"

Prismo smiled, "Who says I didn't come back for both?"

Scarab raised an eyebrow in a tired expression, but made no comment. With a chuckle, Prismo went over and helped lift Scarab onto one of the empty shelves. Returning to their tidying, Prismo passed up jars from the large pile Scarab had left on the floor directly in front of the shelf. Once again the moment returned, the two of them getting along and progressing through their organization. The VIP invitation could wait. He should at least enjoy what he had first.

Chapter Text

The moment was over, it had been for multiple days worth of time. They finished organizing the pickles, and Prismo said nothing of Orbo’s visit. How was he even supposed to, when he knows he’s gonna mess up and make it awkward?

At least six times now Prismo had just stayed quiet around Scarab because he was trying to figure out if it would be a good moment to bring up the lanyards. If the two of them were going to a different room together, Prismo would trail behind without any awareness of where they headed. When writing together he couldn’t pay attention to the story as it developed. Any other time he sorta just stayed still in silence. A few times he only noticed how long he’d been overthinking when Scarab spoke up to talk about something. Other times not even that snapped him out of it.

It was like he couldn’t think properly around Scarab, but he still wanted to be as close as possible. Prismo needed help, and there was one guy he knew he could turn to.

Static covered the tv wall, flickering as it searched for a connection. Scarab was off cleaning the pickle room of stains that had been there for a while, so Prismo should have some time.

The static was swept away when Cosmic Owl picked up from the tv in his apartment. As usual Prismo got a view of Cosmic Owl stepping back from the tv dial.

“Hey man, what’s up?” Cosmic Owl asked casually before plopping into his chair.

“Dude, you gotta help me.”

Cosmic Owl pointed a feather at Prismo, “If you made another universe like Fionna and Cake, I don’t want any part of it.”

“What?” Prismo’s voice cracked. He waived his hand in dismissal of the idea, “Nono, it’s nothing like that.”

“C-hoo-l, cool. Cuz I wouldn’t be able to save you from Scarab if that were the case,” He picked up a mug from the side table and had a sip.

Using the mention of Scarab as a segue, Prismo spoke, “Actually, it’s about Scrabby.”

Cosmic Owl lowered his mug and tilted his head curiously.

“I’ve wanted to for a while now, but I just-“ Prismo fumbled with his words before finding them in a somewhat desperate cry for help, “I don’t know how to ask him out!”

“h-ooOOo boy. If I had another friend, they’d definitely owe me a 20 right about now.”

“Dude!” Prismo shouted, not upset with what was said, but wanting to focus on the issue at hand. Prismo crossed his arms in defense, “I can’t find a good time to ask. It always feels like I’m gonna mess up n make a fool of myself.”

Cosmic Owl took a long sip of his drink before setting it back down on the side table. He sat forward in his chair and closed his eyes. Holding his wings against eachother, he looked deep in thought. The seconds passed awkwardly for Prismo as he awaited any advice.

At last Cosmic Owl opened his eyes and responded, “Wait, so what the heck do you want me to do? Seems like a lotta this has gotta fall on you.”

“Oh come on!” Annoyed that he had any hope, Prismo tried to salvage it, “I dunno, help me figure out how to ask without making it weird between us!” His voice grew panicked as he felt the need to describe further, “Without losing the only other friend I have! Without making me so terribly selfish for wanting more!” He took a pause. His final words were slowed, and wavered with his fear, “Without risking everything?”

His outburst had Cosmic Owl shocked into silence, eyes wider than usual. Damnit, he should’ve kept it to himself. If just talking about it got this response then maybe he shouldn’t-

”Just ask him already!”

What?

…

“What?”

“Don’t plan it, don’t overthink it, just ask.”

“But-“ Prismo tried to protest.

Cosmic Owl didn’t let him, “Sure, there are risks, but that’s how it works! Fionna and Cake exist because you took that risk, and heck you seeing it through is why you got to know Scarab in the first place.”

Cosmic Owl paused his mini-lecture to rummage a wing between the chair cushions. Now it was Prismo’s turn to be shocked silent, his friend had a point.

Retrieving an already opened bag of chips that was previously buried, Cosmic Owl snacked on it without question and concluded his point while he ate, “Sounds to -mnh- me like it’d be worth it to you.”

“So you’re saying… I should ask him next time I see him?” Prismo explored if that’s the interpretation he was meant to get from his friends call to action.

“If that’s what it takes,” Cosmic Owl shrugged. “What’s got you suddenly wanting to ask him out so much anyway?”

“Oh right,” Cosmic Owl wasn’t one to keep up to date with most events. “I got VIP lanyards again this year, and I kinda wanted to maaaybe- invitehiminsteadofyou?” Prismo rushed through the last part, feeling bad he didnt want to invite Cosmic Owl like usual.

Cosmic Owl dramatically fell on the floor to his knees, “NOOOOOOOOOO,” he inched closer and shook the tv back and forth on his end, “they keep the best snacks there!!!” He stopped the shaking and trailed off as he slid to the floor, “How could youuuu-hoo?”

Prismo made a steadying motion with his hands, “Woah, woah! I can still bring you some!”

Cosmic Owl remained face down on the floor as he responded, “Fineee,” he picked himself up and swept crumbs out of his feathers, “but you better get the good stuff.”

“Totally dude, chip dip n’ all.”

Cosmic Owl once again sat back in his chair. Absentmindedly he mentioned, “I probably wouldn’t go if the food wasn’t so good.“

Prismo understood he currently had good food on the brain, but felt the need to ask anyway, “Why not?”

“Oh well, it’s just,” it was clear Cosmic Owl didn’t mean to disrespect all the times Prismo had gotten him into VIP, “the actual event takes forever, all for only a handful of gods to get some rounds of applause.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Prismo inquired. He himself had been the employee of the century a few times over the ages.

Before Cosmic Owl could open his beak, Scarab’s voice chimed in, “Wrong with what?”

Prismo looked over with a jolt, giving him quick confirmation that Scarab was just now entering the room. Prismo froze in horror as he fell back into fearing all the ways his words could fail him. Entirely unaware of Prismo’s internal struggle, Scarab made his way next to Prismo on the wall.

Luckily for Prismo, Cosmic Owl metaphorically stepped in with a pout, “I just want there to be an employee of the century category that I could qualify for.”

“I see…” Scarab said. “I suppose the announcement for this century is coming up then?”

Sucking it up, Prismo spoke as best he could “Yeah, what uh- what are your thoughts on going?”

“Well I stopped attending long ago. Not quite worth it when others despise me for doing my job well.” Scarab shook his head in a solemn frustration, as though he could scold all who looked down upon him, “It rather defeats the whole purpose.”

“Oh.” Prismo felt bad, but didn’t know how else to respond.

“The VIP section is still worth going for,” Cosmic Owl saved it, “Prismo’s been letting me be his plus one, and the gods kinda judge me, but they don’t really say much and it doesn’t matter when the snacks are so-hoo good.”

“Uh huh.” Scarab was clearly skeptical of Cosmic Owl’s praise of the event.

A beep could be heard coming off screen from Cosmic Owl’s side of the video call.

“Sh-hoot, I gotta get back to making mortal dreams come true,” Cosmic Owl jumped up in a hurry. “Hope I can see you both there next week!”

“Wait dude! but-“ Prismo tried to hold him back with a panic.

“Sorry!” was the last thing said before Cosmic Owl ended the connection, leaving the tv screen covered in static.

Prismo turned off the tv. He turned his focus back to Scarab who seemed confused with what Cosmic Owl had meant by hoping to see them both there.

Sucking in a final breath, Prismo spoke up, “Heyyy, so- Scrabby?”

Scarab’s attention switched back as he looked up at Prismo, “Hm?”

Prismo nervously fidgeted with his fingers. His face warmed as he improvised what to say, “Well, I’ve got a second VIP pass to give to a plus one,” he summoned the VIP lanyards into his hand from out of storage, “and I was wondering if you might wanna go with me?” he extended his hand to Scarab, offering the lanyard should he accept.

Scarab took a hesitant step back so that Prismo’s offer wasn’t directly in his face. He looked up at prismo with some sort of confusion evident, “Wouldn’t you rather bring Cosmic Owl?”

“I- well, Cosmic Owl’s a good friend, but…” Prismo trailed off as he felt his face burn with embarrassment.

“But?” Scarab asked, his head tilting slightly.

There was no more denying it, no getting out of it, “I was kinda hoping you could be my plus one as like- a date?”

***

A date?
Scarab knew the concept well enough. A form of courtship, most often employed by mortals with their limited time together. Some gods went about it as well, but Scarab himself hadn’t given it much thought for all the time he had been a god auditor. He was too busy, other gods generally disliked him, and none had appealed to him in that way. But now, and with Prismo?

Scarab’s heart rate increased as his mind flooded with their recent memories. The way Prismo would laugh delightfully at his sarcasm in a way that no one else could. How physically close they sat when writing. Scarab felt his blood rushing to his face, if that was even possible as a shadow on the wall, at the thought of how often it would’ve only taken the slightest tilt for them to rest against one another.

At Scarab’s momentary quiet, Prismo started backtracking, “Sorry, it doesn’t have to be a date- we could just go as friends!” He lowered his voice, dejected, “or you don’t have to go at all… I don’t wanna make things awkward.”

Scarab looked up at Prismo’s face. He could practically see the beaming smile Prismo had given when Scarab first managed to pick up a pickle jar; however, that wasn’t now. Now Prismo was avoiding eye contact with an unsure frown.

Slowly, self consciously, Prismo began pulling back in his shaking hand that held his offering of the lanyard. A vision of all the times Scarab had found Prismo miserably drinking alone as though trying to waste away flashed through his mind.

He hated it. Just the idea that Prismo might close himself off again, might try to face the future alone, gave Scarab a sinking feeling that overtook his usual manner of reasoning. He reacted fast, placing his hand so it rested atop one of the lanyards, halting Prismo’s hand in place. He didn’t fully take the lanyard, but that wasn’t important.

Prismo looked at him once again, no longer avoiding eye contact, providing a sudden spotlight to Scarab’s action. Prismo’s eye was wide and glimmered with hope, or maybe just the watery hints of overwhelming emotion.

Scarab realized with what was almost horror how he had grown to care about Prismo. Scarab wanted to see more of his smile, hear more of his laughter, and be more than his friend.

His throat felt dry and his voice came out soft, “I- I don’t understand. Are you sure about taking me with you? You know they hate me.”

“I’ll be there with you,” Prismo stated matter of factly. “No one’ll be able to mess with you, I promise.”

Scarab doubted even Prismo’s good reputation could cover for his negative one, but it was clear how much he cared about Scarab joining him. He could already see how happy it made Prismo that he was giving the idea of going such consideration.

“I suppose… I would be willing to go with the use of my disguise,” he reasoned, “most shouldn’t be able to recognize it.”

Scarab closed his hand around the VIP lanyard, finally accepting the offer.

“So- you’ll go with me? As like…?” Prismo’s voice faded out as he wanted to double check what to call it.

With an eye roll, Scarab repeated back Prismo’s last two words, “‘As like’ a date, yes.”

Prismo’s face might as well be glowing with how brightly he smiled. It was rather infections, too. Scarab couldn’t help but relax his own expression.

Only when he was given space to himself did he come to terms with what this really meant. He’s a fool to have so carelessly fallen for the one his problems always seemed to circle around. His heart weighed heavily in his chest as he wondered if this was the correct choice. Scarab had never done this before, it was all such new territory. He felt a twitch from one of his crumpled and torn wings. A harsh reminder that he just might get hurt.

Chapter Text

Scar didn’t stop his investigation despite his superior’s command. The people were frantic, lives were at risk.

Scar went on to interrogate Prism’s friend, showing up at his store to ask the questions directly. Taking him into custody would be too obvious, Scar would be found out far too easily. Cosmo was able to provide an alibi for Prism during the first murder, apparently the two were engaging in a weekly “game night.” While it wasn’t concrete evidence, it supported Scar’s new suspicion that Prism could have been set up. It would’ve taken a second party for the recent murder to have happened when it did. Based on how fresh the body was, the murder happened while Scar was with Prism searching his cottage. Another potential explanation could be that Cosmo did the second one while he was away, but that option was quickly proven impossible as the local tavern shared that Cosmo had spent the night there gambling, getting drunk, and singing with strangers like there was no tomorrow (in that order, too).

Now his knowledge was leaning farther towards Prism being innocent, but that still leaves the true killer unknown. Scar wasn’t going to let go of his only lead, so the next course of action would be to question Prism on who might have had his bracelet or want to frame him. Through Cosmo, he knew it would be days before Prism might emerge from the forest once again. Scar didn’t have the time to wait, his duties mattered now more than ever. Even on routine patrol, he could see how cautious and fearful the people were becoming. Quick to be untrusting of the kingdom guards’ ability to protect them, some even bold enough to scowl and whisper their concerns as he walked by in the street. Many disliked his cold attitude, but over the years it was the only attitude that got things done.

There was only one way that people in the kingdom could safely contact Prism when he was in the forest, and of course it was only to be used with The Ruler’s personal permission. A single carrier pigeon that knew where to go. Getting official permission would take weeks at least, but trying to find Prism on a grocery trip like last time would be unlikely. Scar didn’t have the time to do another stakeout, and there was a likely chance he might entirely miss Prism’s visit and have to wait another week.

As the sun snuck below and night settled in, Scar dismissed the guards at the door, and they left without question. Scar had a high enough reputation that most didn’t think twice about his command or authority. It also likely helped that guards and knights alike were being overworked by command of his superior, with the relief of rest growing rare. It was ridiculous, they were being worked so hard they were hardly effective anymore. Each day more were caught falling asleep on the job.

Scar slipped into the room and cautiously closed the door behind himself before someone else might come along. The stone wall was filled with indents which each housed a single pigeon. It wasn’t difficult to find the pigeon that could make its way to Prism as it sat separate from the others in its own cage.

Scar’s grip tightened around the note he held as he reconsidered what he would be doing. He was actively going against his superior’s order to stop his investigation. Scar was risking a lot, and there was a chance that Prism might not even allow him in. His note was blunt as it didn’t have much room, simply requesting that they meet. Scar recalled how the wish keeper had acted, knowing that Scar was following him through the forest. Prism could have let Scar be killed by the nightmare creatures, yet he welcomed Scar from mere curiosity.

Scar opened the cage and attached his note to the bird. Swiftly, he sent it out through the open window and exited the room. Scar quickly went on to assign two new guards, and hoped his actions would go unnoticed long enough that he could get more solid proof that could excuse his disobedience.

The next morning, Scar left his sleeping quarters early to depart. He ensured that he brought no coins on him as he remembered Prism mentioned that the nightmares picked up on that fact last time.

Scar didn’t have to wait long at the edge of the woods before Prism came jogging out. Scar was quickly welcomed through the forest, and they got to talking. He didn’t bother to wait for them to reach the clearing, only for them to be away from the forest’s edge, before stating his business. Whispers could be faintly heard between the nightmare creatures as Scar explained his new suspicions and Prism led the way while nodding along. For a moment when Scar paused his talk he was able to notice some of the creatures’ eyes blink with curiosity as they watched him. They were quick to fade out once noticed, and before Scar could comment on it they had reached the clearing.

Once again Scar was welcomed into Prism’s cottage. They spoke, got along, and formed a list of all who Prism knew. A list of about 40, most either shop owners or higher up authorities which Prism occasionally had to coordinate with. It shouldn’t have surprised Scar to see the kingdom’s Ruler on the list given Prism’s importance, but it still somehow caught him off guard. After a moment of hesitance, Prism added one more name to the list: Scar.

“Really?” Scar asked.

“Well, you are someone that I know, now at least,” Prism smugly replied.

Scar questioned Prism’s connections to those that he had listed. The higher ups were business related, and the shop owners Prism would visit on his days in town. Some, such as Cosmo, Prism stated were his few friends. Once again they got to the end of the list where Scar’s name was needlessly included.

“And you? By the looks of it, maybe a new friend or,,,”

“That’s enough. I have what I need,” Scar stood up.

Scar kept quiet as he walked out with Prism’s list in hand. He halted just shy of the woods, and turned back at Prism hastily putting his shoes back on at his doorstep. Prism hurriedly stumbled to Scar’s side, and the two made their way through the woods once again. Scar said nothing, and neither did Prism. The nightmare creatures didn’t stop their whispering, and Scar noticed that Prism was certainly listening.

Scar saw light ahead, shining through the trees as they began approaching the forest’s exit.

“Scar?” Prism stopped, sounding worried.

Two nightmare creatures briefly dashed across the path ahead. It was enough for Scar to halt, not wanting to push it with the highly violent creatures that favored Prism. He turned back, giving only a glare of acknowledgement to whatever Prism wished to say.

“There’s people waiting out there… about 12 knights, someone on horse leading them, and a crowd of townspeople starting to form. I think they noticed your use of the pigeon.”

Scar turned back toward the wood’s exit, he could vaguely see movement of the crowd.

“Y’know, you’re welcome to stay here. It doesn’t look like they’re willing to talk.”

“Still, I must try.”

Prism stayed, but the nightmare creatures cleared the path for Scar. He emerged from the woods, standing strong just past the forest’s edge, he was faced with Bob R. sat atop a horse with the knights he had brought standing shoulder to shoulder behind him. Civilians took notice and peeked from behind one another at the confrontation. Scar tried to explain himself, to show the list as evidence of his progress. The village people were unsure, some sympathetic to the lack of response Scar was getting, others whispering rumors that painted him in a bad light.

When Scar had nothing left to say for himself, Bob motioned to a knight. They stepped forward and pulled out a scroll to read from, “Scar, you have been found guilty of unauthorized use of postal pigeon, exploitative use of ranking to dismiss guards, and defiance of direct orders to cease your investigation. By authority of Bob R., surrender yourself now or be labeled a traitor and taken in by force.”

Scar was appalled. There was no indication he was even heard by his superior. The citizens meanwhile? They were quick to point at him as the reason for the kingdom’s problems.

Feeling uneasy on his feet for the first time since he graduated training, Scar took a step backwards. It’s like his hearing was amplified as the villagers whispers registered in his mind. Accusations left and right. Scar must be the reason the guards were being overworked; He could’ve been bribed by enemies of the kingdom; He might be the one behind the murders.

Scar’s world was spinning in a dizzying, maddening, matter. Another step backwards. None of that’s true! A plethora of footsteps fill his ears as the knights begin moving in, forming a semi-circle against the forest’s edge. Don’t they see that? Scar’s arm is outstretched behind him, searching for any surface to support himself on. Why can’t they fathom that he is trying to protect them?!

All it takes is a tree’s root, jutting out of the ground. The pounding of a person’s footsteps grow closer. Scar took a step ba-

Just like that, he’s falling. For a brief moment Scar is forced to look up as his superior’s face, cold and chilling, looking down on him from atop the horse.

Scar braced himself for impact with the harsh forest floor. It didn’t come. His fall was stopped by the catch of another.

“Hey now, you didn’t need to go falling for me to get some backup.”

The knights began to charge at the two, cutting them off from further discussion. With a look at Prism’s face, Scar understood the weight of what they were about to be doing, and he was ready for it.

Scar was pulled to his feet. A knight charged toward him. He was ready to fight and defend, but it seemed Prism had other plans. Scar was tugged backwards by Prism into the forest. Right before his eyes one of the creatures made of shadow swiped the knight about to attack and dragged them to the forest’s shadowy depths.

The other knights were horrified. They didn’t dare enter. Scar looked back for a moment, wondering if they might simply give up. Instead they pulled out their bows and began firing at the two. Prism grabbed Scar’s hand and began pulling him through the woods. Behind them the nightmare creatures swirled about, obscuring the knights’ view with their pitch black forms.

They emerged into the clearing, Prism breathing heavy from the running. Scar felt the sinking feeling of finality in what had happened, but he couldn’t focus on it when Prism’s face popped in front of him with a giddy smile, equivalent to that a kid would make when meeting a new friend on a playground.

The two of them went inside.

“Well, you’re fully welcome to stay here, I could always use the company. I don’t really have a guest bedroom, and the couch can be pretty uncomfortable, but- my bed’s large enough to probably fit us both?”

Scarab stopped his proofreading.

He was sat crisscross, not far from the wall, in his 3d form. With how lenient Prismo was, or maybe how trusting he was of Scarab, Scarab was allowed to use his 3d form often. All he had to do was ask when it was just them and sometimes Cosmic Owl, and he would be allowed a chance to stretch himself from the stiff dimension upon the wall.

“Prismo…?” he asked, moving the laptop from atop his legs to the floor in front of him.

Prismo paused the time room's music he had been listening to, and leaned in from where he was on the wall, “Uh yeah, what’s up?”

“Did you- Are you purposefully making your character flirt with mine?”

Prismo looked at where Scarab was in the script, then back at Scarab. He chuckled, “Yeah, you got me.”

Scarab felt his face go redder than normal. So he wasn’t just imagining things when Prismo had previously suggested Scar stay overnight with Prism.

“I was thinking,” Prismo started, “Maybe our character could become more than just friends- sorta like us…?”

“Wh-“

Scarab didn’t even know what to say. His face burned as he had yet to get used to Prismo’s way of showing affection. He felt his heart flutter- WAIT NO THOSE ARE HIS WINGS. SHIT FUCK. Scarab quickly held his elytra down with his hands to stop them as best he could. Unfortunately for him, it didn’t stop the muffled and battered buzzing that came from his wing’s torn membrane moving rapidly within its encasing.

Prismo didn’t say anything, enamored by the sound seemingly coming from his partner’s back.

Scarab froze where he was, horrified. He didn’t dare look back at Prismo’s reaction as he focused on getting his wings to calm. Oh glob, Prismo isn’t even saying anything, that’s probably a bad sign. Truly embarrassed, the flutter of his wings trailed off into nothingness.

It took Scarab a few seconds to will himself to look back at Prismo, only to see that the 2d entity was utterly gobsmacked with wonder. Somehow, that wasn’t what he expected to see.

“So what’s with the noise? Was that a good thing or?”

“It’s none of your business!” Scarab rushed in his embarrassment.

“Woah, dude! Sorry, I-“

oh nono, the realization sunk in, he was already ruining it. He didn’t mean to say that he just-

Scarab sighed letting his shoulders droop,“It’s a sore spot.”

Prismo looked at him with concern, the wonder at Scarab’s oddities having quickly worn off in the face of a deeper issue resurfacing.

Scarab couldn’t help but worry about how easily it had been for him moments ago to have been so easily unraveled by a mere speck of Prismo’s attention in form of his attempt at flirtation. What if this were to happen at the party? Not only would the gods ridicule him to no end for such an embarrassing display, but the public might catch on to his weakness.

“Hey, what’s up man? Y’know you can tell me anything.”

Prismo wrapped his arm over Scarab’s back so that his hand lay projected on the shoulder opposite to him. A welcome gesture that was reciprocated by Scarab putting his hand atop the shadow of light.

“I’m… not sure I should go with you in front of all those other gods.”

Prismo’s voice cracked, “What?” He retracted his hand.

“Nonono-! That’s not what I meant!” Scarab corrected. “Ugh. If they see me like… this,” he raised his shoulders as an indication that he was referring to the noise his wings had made. “I’d be an embarrassment.”

“wha- Scrabby, dude it’s totally normal for us gods to show affection in unique ways.

“That’s not the matter! They’re going to realize how- weak I am.”

“What? Dude when have you ever been weak?” Prismo asked in disbelief. “You’re like- number 1 on my strong dudes list! We all know you’re the most dangerous auditor to mess with,” he complimented as best he could.

”Well thanks to you, I’m not an auditor anymore,” Scarab muttered with withheld frustration.

Prismo looked… caught off guard. Hurt made its way into how his eyebrow scrunched up while his mouth frowned in silent apology.

Scarab looked down at his lap. He couldn’t stand the way Prismo had looked at him, couldn’t put up with the regret for his own words that it made him feel. Tightening his firsts and changing the subject he spoke more firmly, “No, that doesn’t matter. They would still rejoice just to know that I’m broken. That I can be broken.”

“Scarab, what do you mean?” Prismo prodded further with concern.

“They really didn’t tell you?” Scarab asked rhetorically, almost sarcastically. He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that he was left to be the one telling Prismo, but of course the higher ups wouldn’t think to even mention it. He could feel his nails sharply digging into his own hand, powerless to stop it in his frustration. All he could do was laugh about it as an unnoticed tear hit the floor. “They’re GONE!” as he shouted, the elytra on his back opened up, unleashing a clear view of the torn and tattered remains that had been hidden away for so long.

Prismo was shocked into silence. It took him a moment to even realize what he was looking at. Wings, ripped across so that only a fraction of what it once was had remained. He took in every detail and still could barely comprehend it. Scarab once had wings? How could he have never considered the possibility? How long has Scarab been hiding this? Do they hurt? and what happened to them?!

The energy from Scarab’s outburst didn’t last long before he fell back to a desolate sadness that he couldn’t remember having ever let himself truly embrace. Truly heal.

Scarab reminded Prismo of a point he assumed to be forgotten by now, “My healing abilities have limits.” He became attuned to the feeling at the edge of his injury as though it burned, “I can’t do anything about this because the rest of it is still out there.” He took a pause to gulp down the suffocating feeling in his throat, “And… I’m never getting them back.” At the very least, his piercing grip on his hands were able to loosen. Of all the gods to know about this, he felt some relief in it being Prismo here with him now.

“Can I…?” Prismo asked with movement of his hand towards Scarab’s back to indicate what he meant.

Scarab responded with a simple nod. Carefully, Prismo brought his hand to travel across the other’s back.

“What happened?”

“It’s stupid.” Scarab avoided with the slightest flinch inward, now looking at the floor. “… I- I was stupid.”

When Scarab finished speaking, Prismo gently traced his hands over Scarab’s wings.

“Is it from when you were a god auditor? Did some god you went after manage to break them?”

Scarab closed his eyes, “Something like that.” He relaxed to the warm feeling of Prismo’s light passing over the long neglected areas once hidden under his elytra.

“Can you still feel using the separated part?”

“Faintly. If I were to focus, it’s almost as though it were still perfectly attached; however, the illusion is broken by its lack of movement and stimuli,” Scarab explained it as a matter of fact; it was much easier than truly dwelling on it all.

“oh,” Prismo continued letting his hand wander upon Scarab’s back.

Scarab unwound, not making any comments but absentmindedly leaning into the ghostly touch. Prismo brought up his other hand to more effectively explore over every detail. The pink light of his hands took its time to bend over every crumpled fold and trail every torn edge. Not even the smallest rip was left undiscovered by the warm light.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he last felt something with his wings, but now Prismo’s light was reawakening their dormant sense of feeling. It was so overwhelmingly soft he could do nothing but bask in the light. For once, Scarab allowed his mind to float as though being carried away by the wind with the only tether to his own body being the feeling of Prismo’s touch.

The tether expanded as Scarab soon came to realize upon opening his eyes that Prismo was encompassing him in a cross-dimensional hug. The pink light traced around Scarab’s body, completely covering his back and arms forming an “X” across his front. There was an impossible pressure to it all, almost like a true hug but thankfully not with enough force to further harm his wings in any way.

Scarab mirrored with his own arms, basically hugging himself but with Prismo a part of it all too. Maybe the party would be okay. Prismo had promised that he wouldn’t let the other gods mess with him there. Scarab hoped that just this once he could be shielded by another. Before his feelings could swell up again, Scarab returned his mind to its drifting. Everything’s okay. He is safe here.

Chapter Text

Scarab and Prismo arrived to the party after it had already been going on for some time. Scarab would be annoyed at how late they were had it been anything else; Prismo just called it being “fashionably late.”

Very little preparation on their part was needed, just a quick transformation into his mummy disguise for Scarab and Prismo could teleport them to the entrance, but Prismo had insisted on checking in on Fionna’s world first. Scarab hadn’t cared to protest, he’s been growing more impartial towards that universe the more that Prismo puts it on for entertainment. He was even starting to see why watching mortals be so frequently foolish had its appeal. Of course the appeal was also heightened by the bore that the time room could become without company.

The place that the party was being held almost resembled the time room, but not quite. It was made of many basic shapes awkwardly jutting out from different places with mismatched windows of various basic shapes on every other wall-ish surface. It also didn’t have a multitude of entrances from each angle, so fine it’s not really like the time cube, but at least it floated in a similar space-y atmosphere. The front door was a mundane double door, a wonder that some of the gods could fit through it.

After their teleportation, Scarab was stood on a basic platform by the door for gods to land on and Prismo was projected on an uneven surface right next to the door. Scarab gave a look from under his bandages at how Prismo’s form was laughably contorted on the surface.

Prismo looked down at his own form, “Ah, guess that’s bound to happen on uneven surfaces.”

Scarab rolled his multiple eyes, and reached for the doorknob. Before his hand could make contact, Prismo’s pink arm stretched over and grabbed it first. Prismo leaned his head into view on the door, he had a giddy smile.

“Why don’t I get that for you? Beauties first, after all,” he complimented.

Scarab tilted his head to the side to give some light hearted ridicule, “Did Cosmic Owl help you come up with that?”

“Nope! got it from some humans in Fionna’s world,” Prismo proudly revealed as though it was the achievement of the century. If it gave Scarab a soft smile under all the mummy wrappings, it would be almost impossible to tell. Impossible… aside from how his eyes softened in a way that only Prismo could bring out.

Prismo turned the knob, and only then realized that he didn’t have the ability to actually push the door open. He frantically tried by putting more of himself onto the door, making a bit of a humorous display that ended simply when Scarab pushed the door open himself.

The door smoothly swung open, taking Prismo’s projection inside with it. The inside set up was basic compared to the outside. Instead of jagged surfaces and mismatching angles it was basic and rectangular. Multiple tables of snacks, punch, and boxed pizza were laid out. There were balloons tied onto tables and streamers strewn about. It was all amplified by the colorful light sources that passed over the room, though it was still well lit overall.

Scarab stepped in and turned his head to look at Prismo who was still on the now opened door. Scarab awaited him so that he could be navigated through the crowds of other gods by someone who could actually deal with them.

“I- uh, totally could have opened that myself!” Prismo joked.

At least Scarab assumed it was a joke, they would have been outside forever if he had to solely rely on Prismo’s ability to open the door.

Prismo slunk onto the floor and replaced Scarab’s shadow, “Alright, first thing’s first I did tell Cosmic Owl that I’d bring him snacks from the VIP area. It should be like a loft area over on the right. People will probably be too busy talking with each other to notice us until we get there, then they check the lanyards.”

Following Prismo’s instruction, Scarab maneuvered through the crowds. Behind him Prismo continued to mimic his shadow. Every now and then Prismo would point to gods and move his projection up Scarab’s body to whisper whatever the current gossip going around was. Scarab had never previously cared to learn, but somehow Prismo managed to get him somewhat invested for once. Maybe it was due to his total disconnect since being stuck in the time cube with Prismo, or maybe it was the feeling he got when listening to Prismo talk about such basic and easy to overlook things with incredible passion. Apparently there was a whole, as Prismo put it, “will they, won’t they” situation going on between a god that looked like large bird made out of leaves with claws of bark, and another that was some dusty skeleton in a blood red vest.

The two soon arrived at the staircase which led up to the VIP loft area that Prismo had described. The main section was held above some sort of kitchen. At the bottom of the staircase was a typical velvet rope with a beefy bouncer holding a scanner for the lanyards.

Scarab actually recognized the bouncer. She had been a part-time god auditor for a while where Scarab had come across her a few times in the field, though not under the best of circumstances. She was a strong fighter and could command authority well, but Scarab most often only got to see her when he was sent in because a situation had escalated past what she was qualified to handle.

Scarab remembered the comments he would openly make upon arrival about how she hadn’t been fit for the job. He now felt a sense of embarrassment for his hurtful words toward her at that time. It simply wasn’t her fault that the higher ups failed to properly give important information about targets, such as if they had more backup than she could reasonably expect. At the same time, Scarab could felt some relief in at least recognizing someone here. He could admit that she did a good job of looking intimidating, and her skillset was being better put to work here. The downside, however, was the possible risk that she may recognize his voice and draw attention to his presence. For all he knew, she probably held a grudge at him for taking over assignments.

Luckily for Scarab, Prismo seemed content on doing all the talking, and adjusted himself out from Scarab's shadow and onto the wall. “Yo, Dee! How’s it holding up?”

“Ah, Prismo! I’ve been doing fine. Was wondering when you’d show up.”

“You know how it is, fashionably late is basically the same as right on time.”

“Sure, sure. Who’s this you’re with? I don’t think I recognize them, have we met?”

Scarab nervously shrugged his shoulders at the question, unsure how to respond and frankly more worried about his voice.

“Oh, he’s my date,” Prismo said with such casualty that Scarab almost didn't get to notice and appreciate the title he'd been given. “I’m not sure if you’ve met, but he’s not much of a talker at parties.” It was a relief to Scarab that he wouldn’t be expected to talk.

“Ooo- it’s been a while since you’ve come with someone other than Cosmic Owl.”

“Speaking of, I promised him I’d bring some snacks from up there.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just gotta scan your lanyards before you head up to verify that you’re here and all.”

After a squick scan, Dee opened the velvet rope to let them through. Really, it was just a formality considering that the vast range of gods could get around through other ways. Scarab walked past along with Prismo moving to stay at his side on the wall.

“Hey Prismo!” Dee called for his attention before they had gotten far. Both Prismo and Scarab turned to face her, “Ya better introduce me properly sometime when I'm not on the clock.”

Prismo smiled and waved her off, “Will do.”

Scarab gave a nod of acknowledgement. He wasn’t sure how that would go, but he was bound to have awkward run-ins with people Prismo knew eventually. At least it sounded like they’d do it with more privacy than here surrounded by so many other… variables.

When they reached the top of the stairs, it became much easier to map the layout of the room from above the larger crowds. Scarab approximated that about three hundred gods were in attendance, the number variable by their different sizes taking up more or less space. The VIP section had a surprisingly clear view of the currently empty stage taking up the wall across the room. Scarab hadn’t been able to see it when they entered because of the crowd, but it was to the left of the entrance. The empty wall spaces were lined with fold out tables, aside from one large section of wall protruding forward and containing a door for the rest room. While most gods didn’t use it, the rest room could be used to tidy up or take a brief break. They used the same layout as a human’s concept of a public bathroom, but with a variety of different amenities in the stalls to deal with anything from dripping sludge to coughing up quails.

Prismo stretched the upper half of himself across the wall and to the snack table. He quite simply scooped up a handful of snacks and took them back to where Scarab stood at the loft’s corner railing looking over the crowd.

Scarab was now more thoroughly scanning through the clusters of gods, searching.

Prismo looked over the edge of the loft, and found Cosmic Owl to be not too far away. He stretched his arm down a pillar to tap Cosmic Owl on the shoulder, alerting him to where they were. Once the bird was stood below, the loot of snacks were unceremoniously shoved through the wide fence bars to rain down upon Cosmic Owl. Just as quick as they had fallen the snacks were scooped up by the owl and brought over to a wall for him to sit and enjoy.

Scarab only half paid attention to all of this, still on the lookout for anyone he’d rather not run into. Prismo slinked up onto the railing. His projection being thin to fit the surface had the extra bonus of helping not draw attention to his presence.

“Now what?” Scarab murmured, looking to Prismo for guidance on how to enjoy their time there.

“It tends to mostly be talking until they announce things, y’know catching up with people that would otherwise be too busy.”

The irony wasn’t lost on Scarab how he had often been too busy to attend. The first time he didn’t show up was because the workload for him had been increased to due ‘budget cuts,’ aka management feeling less of a need to hire new god auditors to replace the ones that got injured, fired, or otherwise left. After that, no one even bothered to tell him when it was being hosted. He didn’t care at the time, didn’t have any reason to go and all that, but now that he looked at the sheer number of gods that attended there was some sinking feeling that he just couldn’t pin.

Prismo noticed the change in mood. Scarab looked distant from the moment, his eyes sullen.

Prismo would’ve doubted he was still aware of his surroundings if Scarab hadn’t spoke up, “I don’t think I have anyone who would want to ‘catch up’ with me.” Scarab finally blinked and moved his eyes to look at Prismo and refocus, “Apologies, I already knew that. It shouldn’t be your problem.”

“Dude, if it’s bothering you I could totally try finding people for you to meet. Sure the whole ‘fun killer Scarab’ saying might be a hurdle-“

“Imsorrythewhat?”

“NOTHing! Nothing, it’s nothing, really,” Prismo tried to cover for himself and avoided eye contact with a cringe. Scarab’s stare was firm and steady, his upper eyelids casually hung down, digging into Prismo with some amusement. Prismo awkwardly shifted under Scarab’s gaze, it was clear he couldn't just not give in, “I’ve only heard it a few times, but people kindaaa use it to describe you- Sorry.”

Scarab just rolled his eyes and spoke with a deadpan tone of voice, “Of course they do.” He signed before mumbling something about other gods being ‘so childish’ for doing so.

“How about we go check in on Cosmic Owl? When he finishes with the snacks the three of us could go socialize, and no one has to know who you are if you don’t want them to.”

“I suppose that’s better than staying here listening to you tell me of all the ways others talk of me behind my back,” Scarab jabbed with no real anger behind his words.

“Yeesh Scrabby, little heavy on the sarcasm there,” Prismo chuckled with embarrassment.

The two of them went down the stairs, leaving the VIP section. Walking off, Scarab couldn’t help but notice out of the corner of his eye Orbo rolling towards the VIP section’s entrance. With a shudder, Scarab was glad to have left before they would have run into him. Unlike the others here, Orbo knew what his disguises looked like from the occasional reviewing of Scarab’s performance as a god auditor.

Scarab reasonably knew he’d be here; Prismo had already relayed to him that Orbo was the announcer this time. Apparently Orbo had also tried dissuading Prismo from bringing Scarab, something along the lines that he would just end up getting into a fight. Scarab remembered how right after telling him this, Prismo affirmed that he didn’t believe Orbo. The memory brought a smile to Scarab’s face, hidden under all the bandages, it was the first time in eons that he had felt truly backed up by someone. In all of this, really. Prismo’s efforts, just to help him of all gods.

Scarab and Prismo approached Cosmic Owl. He was sitting against the wall to the left of a covered fold out table with a range of drinks. His pile of snacks on lay on the Owl’s opposite side. He had crumbs scattered about and sticking to some feathers, but seemed satisfied with it.

“Hey dude,” Prismo greeted, stretching from Scarab’s shadow onto the wall.

“What are you tw-hoo doing here, shouldn’t you be in VIP?” Cosmic Owl stood up and swept the crumbs off of himself with his wings.

“Change of plans: You n’ me are gonna help Scrabby meet people.”

“Uh, you sure that’s a good idea? His reputation might make it kinda difficult, er- no offense.”

Scarab rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that night, “None taken.” Despite his words, his deep voice left Cosmic Owl still somewhat regretting having said anything.

“Who do you think-“ Prismo began to say, but trailed off looking at something past Scarab.

Turning around, Scarab saw Dee squeezing her way through the crowd towards them. They paused their conversation for whatever she needed from them.

“Prismo! Hey, sorry to interrupt, but I’m gonna need to see you for a moment.”

Attention was turned to Prismo. All three of them seemed confused by what Dee might want from him of all gods. Prismo looked nervous in the way an innocent civilian might be in the face of being confronted by an authority.

Dee was quick to address the gut instinct of worry, “Nothing bad, just something in the lost & found from a while back that’s suspected to be yours. It’s policy that we bring you to confirm.”

“Oh, uh.” Prismo looked to Scarab and Cosmic Owl, gauging their reactions.

“It’ll only be a moment,” Dee reassured.

Scarab couldn’t say anything. He still didn’t want Dee to hear his voice. Even were it not her, he didn’t know what he’d have to say. Instead he gave Prismo a nod, allowing him to go off and hopefully be over with it.

Scarab watched as the two left, seeing Dee already start some sort of friendly conversation before they disappeared among the crowd. Turning back, Cosmic Owl had already settled back down. It was just the two of them now. Scarab followed Cosmic Owl’s lead and reluctantly sat on the ground. He settled for the space between Cosmic Owl and the table, but made sure to take a moment to brush the various floor crumbs away from himself first.

“Has no one ever cleaned this floor?” he wondered aloud.

All the Owl could give in response was a shrug before he picked out another small bag of snacks. Upon opening it, he held it out in offering to Scarab who politely shook his head. Once Cosmic Owl had a few bites, he returned them to conversation, “You got any guess on what Prismo could have lost?”

Scarab supposed it wasn’t the worst question to ask. “Hmm, perhaps one of his pickle jars,” he theorized, remembering when they had reorganized them together and the total count was an uneven number.

“I dunno, I’ve only seen those leave the time room when he gifts them t-hoo someone,” Cosmic Owl considered. “Maybe it’s like- an old picture from a party.”

“Then again, it’s possible the lost item isn’t his.”

Cosmic Owl nodded in agreement. He got another handful of snacks and happily munched on them before he gave a sudden pause looking past Scarab like he was about to choke it back out.

Scarab didn’t have the chance to ask about the change in expression because no more than a second later he felt a heavy splash against his back. Eyes wide and shoulders raised, Scarab’s head swiftly turned to look at the source of the red-ish liquid now dripping down his back. A transparent punch bowl by the edge of the folding table was now 2/3rds empty and still swishing with motion. Looking past that, the cause of the commotion-

“They really oughta’ secure these tables more. Least’ that didn’t land on anyone important. We wouldn’t want that, now would we Scrabby?”

Orbo.

He rolled out in front of them, “Well then, what are you two doing on the floor? Y’getting extra cleanin' work in, Scrabby?”

With his initial state of shock wearing off, Scarab squinted at Orbo with his fist clenched in restraint. He had to keep his cool to avoid making a scene, the last thing he wanted to do was let down Prismo’s trust in him. The bandages of his disguise were slowly soaking up more of the unpleasant drink, bringing a strong discomfort. He held his focus on observing the orb with a strong glare, looking out for every slight movement. Scarab was furious, humiliated!
…
Silent.

“Not cool man,” Cosmic Owl accused with a level of negativity unusual for him. He stood up, barely caring to wipe off a few crumbs.

Now this got Scarab’s attention. This was something new, something unaccounted for.

Cosmic Owl stared Orbo in the face with displeasure, puffing up his feathers to look more formidable. Tension crept into the air, and Scarab spotted the slightest adjustment in Orbo’s smug expression. It was a challenge. A setup.

They were seconds away from starting an already lost altercation. Scarab couldn’t let himself hesitate. He picked himself up and ducked between the two, grabbing Cosmic Owl’s wing along the way, he led them away from the situation without any resistance. Orbo made no effort to follow them, and Cosmic Owl gave no indication if he cared that his remaining snacks had been left behind.

They wove through the crowd at the brisk pace Scarab set. He paid special attention to the flow of movement, avoiding the chance of bumping into anyone and getting noticed. While they had gotten away from Orbo, they weren’t out of the woods of prying eyes. The crowd ahead began to thin as their destination came into sight: the rest room. It was the perfect escape, rarely used and equipped to handle the issue at hand.

Circling the crowd’s edge to avoid being out in the open, the two of them reached the wall. Cosmic Owl had already gotten the idea and walked by Scarab’s side while he shuffled to the rest room door.

Slipping past the door, it was a relief to see that no one else was in there. After the door was closed behind them, Scarab let himself release a breath with the bandage wraps of his disguise loosening around him. He stood somewhat hunched forward as he could finally relax for a moment. Cosmic Owl walked better into view dragging his wings. It was evident he was feeling a similar sense of relief as his feathers were evidently settling down.

Looking past the owl, Scarab considered how he could deal with this situation. The stalls would often provide small bottles of various cleaning substances for the range of surfaces all manner of gods might have. He could use one of them to regain the cleanliness of his disguise. Maybe then he could resume spending this time with Prismo.

Scarab retracted the parts of his disguise that were unaffected. Rediscovering the discomfort of the remaining wet material sticking against his back, he extended the length of the bandages to allow the soaked section to hang down giving it distance from his back.

“Get the fabric wash,” Scarab requested of the owl, even if he didn’t quite word it as such. He was rather set on getting this mess over with as efficiently as possible.

“Yeah, just- gotta breathe first,” Cosmic Owl responded, sitting down for a moment.

Preparing to start washing it, Scarab reached behind himself to grab the cluster of red-soaked bandage wrap. Bringing it around in front of him, the moment felt awfully familiar. Scarab chose not to linger on the feeling. This wasn’t the time nor place for that. He went over to one of the sinks and ran the water. The clump of fabric was held under, turning the passing water red and barely changing shade itself. Manageable, but time consuming. At least the amenities would help speed it up.

Cosmic Owl appeared at his side, having brought the cleaning bottle requested. He broke the silence, “I hope Prismo’s okay that we kinda disappeared on him.”

Scarab looked at himself in the mirror and wrung out the stained water. It passed down the drain, staining the sink on the way.

“He’ll manage.”

***

Prismo waved to Dee as he left. Turns out the lost item was someone else’s sunglasses. He couldn’t even be able to use them normally because of the whole being 2D.

He was about to simply slide across the floor back to where the others were, but he got stopped by Orbo rolling directly over to him from the same direction Prismo was headed, starting conversation for whatever reason, “Hey Prismo, glad you could make it.”

“Oh, uh yeah?” Prismo couldn’t hide the light confusion in his voice. It wasn’t like he and Orbo ever talked much, so he wasn’t ready for any small talk.

“I see ya managed to get away from Scrabby, good t’know you’re not letting him drag you down.” It was said so casually, like a daily life annoyance.

Mildly ticked off Prismo tried to excuse himself, “Actually, I was just on my way back.” He wanted so badly to add that it would be definitely nicer company than talking with you, but he bit his tongue.

Orbo’s expression dulled to what Prismo could only read as annoyance, “Guess someone has to watch him. Let me know when you’ve sent him home early t’actually enjoy the party.”

With that Orbo left him alone and rolled back into the crowd. What a jerk.

Prismo slipped back to the area where he had left the others. He eagerly started conversation before even fully arriving, “Wow, you guys wont believe this: I had to run into Orbo on the way back, sooo not worth it because the lost item wasn’t even like— uh,” neither of them were there, snacks left behind. “Guys?” he questioned, testing if they were still within earshot.

No response.

Weird. Prismo was used to Scarab disappearing to take time to himself, but Cosmic Owl? Did he start molting? No, that was a longer process.

Prismo went up the wall to get a better view, but he couldn’t discern anything among the large beings and shifting lighting. Shrinking down, he knew he would have to start more thoroughly searching through the crowd for them. He could just ask around if anyone knew where Cosmic Owl went, and hopefully that’d lead him to both of them.

Taking a deep breath, Prismo prepared for social interaction before going off into the crowd.

***

Scarab and Cosmic Owl stood facing one another with the row of sinks at their side. Since Scarab was no longer disguised, he faced the door to quickly transform if anyone entered. With Cosmic Owl in front of him, the owl’s back to the door, the two held the pile of unraveled bandage wraps between them. They were still loosely connected to Scarab, attached at a few spots. The two of them had taken the cloth out of the sink to apply the odd mixture meant to help. Supposedly after some time it would take affect and dissolve the stain without damaging the material.

“I think that’s all of it covered,” Cosmic Owl commented.

“Now we wait.” The bottle’s instructions estimated it taking about 15-20 minutes before the stain would start visibly dissolving. Something about the mixture made the color slowly turn into a deeper shade of red, looking almost blood-like.

“Was he always like that?” Cosmic Owl asked about Orbo with some concern. It was Scarab he was talking to; there was a lot the beetle could withstand, but the Owl still had sympathy.

A feeling of shame washed over Scarab, it wasn’t right that Cosmic Owl got pulled into it. “More or less.” It’s because of him that they were now stuck cleaning up in the rest room. Scarab felt the need to apologize in some way, “He isn’t usually so publicly blatant about his ‘distaste’ regarding me.” Orbo preferred closed spaces, controlled environments where others couldn’t—or wouldn’t— step in.

“That… doesn’t sound like a healthy work dynamic,” Cosmic Owl sided with him.

Scarab felt a spark flicker within his dormant distain. “You don’t know the half of it,” he seethed.

“Wanna talk about it?” Cosmic Owl offered a kind look, giving Scarab the space to share if he wanted.

Where would he even start? It wasn’t too long ago that Orbo threatened Scarab’s legs for just for wanting to pursue Prismo’s unauthorized creations. He could feel a shiver of anger crawling up his spine and along his back.

“I knew he’d be here,” Scarab admitted to the obvious. “I was hoping he’d behave,” he explained. Scarab could feel his blood boiling, “However naive it was, I wanted to enjoy this outing with Prismo.” All to end up separated.

“Not your fault, that was a total dick move he pulled back there,” Cosmic Owl affirmed, sharing in the frustration. Still here, helping Scarab clean up a mess he had no part in. “I don’t know how y-hoo managed to put up with him.”

“Oh I assure you,” Scarab started with feigned composure, “my job would’ve been much easier if he wasn’t such AN OVERGROWN DUNGBALL!”

Having risen his voice to a violent hiss, Scarab’s posture had warped into one of intimidation. There was an emphasis in the way he held his sharp fingers up through the bandages soaked blood red. He stood taller than the owl before him, the spaghetti of cloth held at uneven heights between them. Scarab’s chest heaved to recoup after the sudden use of air.

Cosmic Owl wasn’t intimidated looking up at Scarab. He knew the anger wasn’t directed at him, after all.

A creak was heard from the door. He’d lowered his guard. Scarab’s view snapped up, and Cosmic Owl rotated his head to see behind himself. It was too late now. A random god stood at the entrance, holding the door open, momentarily frozen in place at what it thought to be witnessing.

Scarab and Cosmic Owl’s eyes widened to match that of the unexpected spectator before the door was slammed shut.

The two of them shared a look,

“Shit.”