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Forgiveness.
What a funny thing it was.
What a hard thing it was to earn, and an even harder thing to deserve.
Scott chewed on his right pointer finger knuckle as he stared down at his communicator, the chat open to his private message chain with Pearl. They haven’t talked or seen each other since… then.
Since the finale of Double Life.
Since Scott gifted her the only thing he had left to give.
Since Scott blew himself up so no one could argue that the win was hers.
Since the words Tilly death do us part! left his lips.
Since the last Game ended– since Double Life ended…
Since the gravity of their situation really hit him, causing him anguish and despair so consuming he feared he may never get out. He feared that he went too far, that he hadn’t considered the weight of his actions, that he could have potentially hurt Pearl far beyond the accepted anguish and thrill expected of The Life Games.
Pearl. His Pearl.
A sob forced its way up from his diaphragm, fighting within every inch of its life.
His teammate.
His best friend.
His partner.
His soulmate.
The Moon to his Stars, the galaxy that held their intertwined souls.
Pearl…
Pearl, I’m so sorry, I–
I hope I didn’t mess it all up.
I hope I didn’t mess us up.
I hope we can rebuild from the debris.
Scott squeezed his teary eyes shut, fingers entangled in the mop of cyan blue on his head while the fluffy blue of his tail curled around his leg for some level of comfort, of self-soothing. He tugged harshly on the locks, creating a tingling sensation on his scalp that did not help the worsening state of his headache.
He used the right sleeve of his jacket to dry his tears as he sucked in his bottom lip, gnawing at the raw and scabbed skin there for the umpteenth time. Scott could taste the copper-y tinge of blood on tongue, but he was far too familiar with the taste to care.
Scott dismissed the communicator to its special slot in his inventory, not wanting to watch any longer for a message that would never come. He took to pacing back and forth instead, finding that a more suitable waste of his time.
His unicorn hooves thumped against the forest floor, his stride swift and powerful, sounding vaguely like a distant horse galloping through the trees. His hoof prints would probably be engraved in the dirt for days, perhaps longer if the rain stayed away. He didn’t care; he kept pacing.
Everyone knew that The Games would change them going in, just like every server they visited would. Their code shifted and adapted to the rules of the world, and the same was to be said about these death games. Their resistance to pain and their emotions were altered. They became more bloodthirsty and greater risk takers, with their anxieties and paranoia heightened just enough to force them to act. They became each other's prey, their sense of morality and companionship thrown out if one felt as if they’ve been wronged.
They all knew what they had signed up for in exchange for power and knowledge, or to satiate curiosity, but actually living it… that was a completely different story. It felt all too real, leaving each of them scared with trauma they could never truly shake, but once The Watchers got a Player hooked, well… participating in The Games was like an addiction that couldn’t be resisted. There was no way to escape or resist, not really. Not for any substantial length of time.
Had an addiction cost Scott his and Pearl’s relationship?
Before he could dwell on the fears ruminating in his gut any longer, his communicator buzzed, shocking him out of his thoughts. Who could that be? Pearl, finally ready to talk and making the first move? Good void, he hoped so–
ZombieCleo: why do you have your location off
ZombieCleo: i’ve been looking everywhere for you, you know
ZombieCleo: >:(
ZombieCleo: come on, stop moping and answer me
ZombieCleo: you can't hide from meeeee foreverrrrr
Scott had turned off his location because he didn’t want anyone to find him in such a pathetic state. He had figured the others would message him if they wanted to reach out to him, which he supposed was what Cleo was doing at the moment. He hadn’t expected anyone to actually try and locate him to talk face-to-face though, but perhaps he should have.
Smajor1995: wow
Smajor1995: creepy much?
ZombieCleo: finally omg
ZombieCleo: where have you been?
Smajor1995: i just needed some time to think
ZombieCleo: what you *need* is some time away from your anxious spirals and whatever
ZombieCleo: come to the ggg cottage
The GGG Cottage was what he, Pearl, and Cleo built together after Last Life ended. It was an imitation of the Scottage, a mossy cottage Scott had built for him and Pearl to live in during Last Life. They modified and improved it, of course, and they added creature comforts that weren’t possible to add during The Games. Their Scottage replica morphed to become sort of like the Three G’s secret clubhouse or sanctuary. It was their own personal home away from home, someplace they could all be together no matter what servers they were calling home or what worlds they were visiting.
Thing was, GGG stood for Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss , and Scott wasn’t sure if he could face Girlboss just yet. He pursed his lips and tentatively started typing again.
Smajor1995: why?
ZombieCleo: we’re having a slumber party!
ZombieCleo: i can't have my chosen soulmate all sad, now can i?
Scott smiled warily at their use of the word soulmate. Cleo was just as much as his soulmate as Pearl was, and he loved them both dearly. His affections toward them weren’t romantic, he knew that for sure, but they meant far too much to him to call them anything less than a best friend, if not a partner within their own right.
Smajor1995: we?
ZombieCleo: you can’t avoid her forever, scott
Smajor1995: …
Smajor1995: i know
Smajor1995: i'm not trying to
He wasn’t! Promise!
He just…
It was just hard, okay?
ZombieCleo: …
ZombieCleo: sure you aren’t
Smajor1995: let the record show that i hate you
ZombieCleo: love you too
ZombieCleo: now come on
Smajor1995: ugh okay fine
ZombieCleo: scotttt
Smajor1995: i'm coming omv
Smajor1995: give me five
ZombieCleo: fine deal
Smajor1995: cya soon
Scott dismissed his communicator once more as he turned to approach a nearby river. He crouched down beside it to splash the cold water in his face, hopefully shocking him out of his thoughts and subsiding his bloodshot eyes. His head still pounded angrily, the pain even radiating up the horn protruding out through his hair.
He summoned an iron waterskin from his inventory, conducted out of an old, dented bucket with the help of some kind armorsmiths. It wasn’t the prettiest thing, but he was sentimental towards it, especially since he had decorated it with painted flowers made of dye and then coated with honey to wax it, protecting the designs from the elements. Scott gathered some fresh, clean liquid from the river into the waterskin before chugging most of it back. Proper hydration would solve part of his issues, assuming it worked fast enough with the help of his natural regeneration.
Scott gasped for breath as he pulled the waterskin away from his lips, and he could feel his lungs contracting and expanding in his chest with the effort. He dipped down to top the waterskin off before dismissing it back to his inventory.
He rose to his hooves, stretching his arms up to the sky to pop out any tightness that had gathered in his joints from his squatting. Scott peered back down into the river to try and catch his reflection, hoping he didn’t look too horrendous. Finding his appearance suitable enough and knowing he was running out of time, he retrieved his communicator from his inventory, opened it up to the list of saved locations, and clicked on the place titled GGG Cottage.
Honestly, Scott wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he arrived, but he didn’t think he would get pelted in the face with a pillow. Sure enough, that is exactly what happened, the fabric shell stuffed plump with wool and chicken feathers smacked him square in the face before he even had time to catch his barings.
Elated giggling filled the air, something that only worked to cue Scott in on what was going on as he stumbled backwards. He blinked rapidly to try and urge his vision to focus. “Pearl!”
“Hiya Scott!” Pearl chirped back with a wide grin on her face. Her wolf-like ears stood tall as her fluffy gray tail swished back and forth behind her. “We’re gonna’ fight! A proper one this time, but with pillows ‘cause Cleo says we can’t use swords or bows!”
“You’re welcome for that, by the way,” Cleo chimed in around the popcorn she was very clearly shoving into her mouth. She stood at what Scott assumed were the sidelines, watching them both with amusement and intrigue.
“Uh huh,” Scott chided lightheartedly, shooting Cleo a playfully annoyed glare. “You just didn’t want to do first aid or force a respawn.”
“Those are always such a hassle,” Cleo allowed with a wicked gleam in their undead eyes.
“A warning would have been nice,” Scott grunted, though still not upset– not really, anyway.
“Oh, but what’s the fun in that?” The question was clearly rhetorical as Cleo popped another kernel into their mouth.
Good void, what have I done to deserve these two as partners, as soulmates? Scott thought, and he realized the words sounded like a complaint, but they were nothing of the sort! The words were meant to be warm, affectionate, and maybe even freeing. He loved letting loose with them, with his soulmates; he could already feel his anxieties melting away.
Pearl was already holding another pillow in her arms by the time Scott bent down to grab the one that had plopped by his hooves. There was a wild expression twisting her features, maniacal and a little crazy like she often had when she got perhaps too competitive.
The wolf hybrid must have taken Scott arming himself as an invitation, for as soon as the pillow was in his grasp, Pearl darted toward him with her pillow raised. Not as disoriented as he was when he first teleported in, Scott managed to rely on his reflexes and dodge the attack. He spun, whacking Pearl on her back with the pillow. She squealed with delight as she jumped back into their play fight, thirsting for revenge.
Scott wasn’t sure how long their little back and forth lasted for, his only gauge of time being how much popcorn Cleo had left in their striped container, and even that was a poor indicator. He fought against his foe valiantly, but she managed to secure the upper hand. Scott raised his arms and hooves to try and block the blows, utilizing his voice to surrender, “Okay! Okay! You win!”
“Woo! I win Pillow Life!” Pearl cheered, tossing the pillow haphazardly to the side as she gloated and danced with victory over him. “I won Pillow Life!”
“Good job,” Cleo praised, albeit more amused than genuine. “Perhaps They’ll make you a portrait or a mutual or a glass stained window in the Pillow Life Hall of Fame.”
“Oh, I’m sure they will!” Pearl replied cheekily, snatching up Scott’s pillow from him and tossing it Cleo’s way.
Scott stared up at his soulmate with admiration, a sense of longing heavy in his heart. Had it really taken this long for him to see her again? How could he have bared staying away?
Both of their chests heaved from the activity and sweat rolling down their flushed red faces, their hair sticking to their skin. They could probably both use a quick shower, but that was the last thing on their mind.
“You won, fair and square,” Scott complimented, and Pearl’s gaze snapped to meet his. He gawked appreciatively at his Moon, at her skill and every other component that made up her being. He meant every word both said and unsaid, both uttered and implied… he was content to being her Stars as they coexisted in the night sky.
Based on the way Pearl’s ears flicked back and her face softened, Scott knew she understood. The Double Life win was hers, and she deserved it, and he was sorry for the way he treated her throughout it.
“It was a good game.” Pearl extended a hand to him, an offering, an apology of her own.
Scott took it, and Pearl helped him to his feet. He expected her to let go from there, but she didn’t. Instead, she used the momentum to pull him in, wrapping her arms around his torso in a hug.
“I missed you,” she whispered softly in his ear, so quiet Cleo probably couldn’t hear. “I missed us.”
“Me too,” Scott admitted back, voice just as soft. His vision glossed over as he squeezed her tight, scared to let go and discover this was all a dream.
In Scott’s peripheral vision, he noticed Cleo’s shoulders relax as they exhaled a soft breath of air. They had hid their own anxieties so well, and he had been so wrapped up in his own, that he hadn’t even considered how Cleo would have taken their queerplatonic partners avoiding one another, terrified to be the one to reach out first.
He would have to make it up to them somehow.
“How about you two wash up and get some of the sleep clothes you left here on,” Cleo suggested when Scott and Pearl released their hold on each other. “I’ll prepare some hot cocoa, and we can meet up in the living room, sound good?”
A part of Scott warmed at Cleo’s suggestion and plan of action, enjoying the thought and consideration that went behind it. She hadn’t needed to wash up herself, but she recognized that they would benefit, and acted accordingly. It was a small act, but it was one Scott could feel love infused in.
“Wait, Scott,” Cleo called him back as he started down toward the shower Pearl hadn’t gone to occupy.
Scott stopped in his tracks and turned back to them, curious what they would say. Funnily enough, their actions spoke louder than anything they could have told him.
She slipped a small container of white petroleum jelly into his hand, eyes flicking between his eyes and the sorry state of his lips a few times, but otherwise not acknowledging a single thing. “Nothing, have a good shower.”
Well, if he had felt warm with appreciation and admiration before, now he was nearly bursting with it all– though there was some added embarrassment on top of it all. He had forgotten about the ashamed state he was in, but neither of them said a single negative thing or made him feel like he had to earn his spot beside them.
How had he gotten so lucky with such amazing partners?
Once his skin, hair, and fur were smelling pleasant and no longer wet with sweat, Scott dressed himself in a comfortable outfit. It wasn’t much, just a generic white T-shirt with purple stitching for some pizazz and dark blue pajama pants. His favorite outfits he reserved for going out and weren’t super comfortable to snuggle up in, or they were left at his personal place.
Pearl was waiting for him when he entered the living room, already settled down on the couch. She had selected a long-sleeved, pinkish red top and soft pajama bottoms decorated with crescent moon designs to wear, and they admittedly looked really good on her. She sifted through their collection of nail polishes, squinting at the labels and colors to try and find whatever she was looking for.
Nail polish was one thing Scott was sure none of them ever thought of using resources on to craft during The Games. There were far too many other things to worry about that any potential thoughts of making some slipped through the cracks, even with Scott, who at least tried to make his temporary home presentable and functional no matter how long he was to stay there. The color on his nails had all chipped off far before he lost his first life, and Scott hadn’t indulged in painting them again since they’d come back.
Cleo entered the room next, carefully carrying three mugs of what he assumed was hot cocoa with whipped cream and mini chocolate chips sprinkled on top. She wore green bottoms and a shirt with a flower printed on the front, making her vaguely look like a flower herself. That was something Scott snickered to himself quietly about, though he meant no ill intent. He loved flowers, after all, they didn’t make a bad outfit theme whatsoever.
“Oooo, fancy!” Pearl cooed as she set aside their collection of nail polish to accept Cleo’s chocolatey offering. She scooped up some of the whipped cream on her finger and slipped it into her mouth. “Mmm, tasty too– thanks!”
“Good girl for using your manners,” Cleo teased, dipping her finger in the white cream and bopping Pearl’s nose with it. She promptly went cross-eyed and Cleo moved to hand Scott his before she reacted properly. An arf! of protest escaped Pearl’s lips, but she soon joined in on Cleo and Scott’s giggles.
Their hot chocolate didn’t last long, empty mugs sat abandoned on the side table to be cleaned the next day. They gossiped like anyone at a slumber party would, rambling on together about their lives and their friends as they broke out the skin care to do facials in the form of face masks.
Because of Scott’s unicorn horn and Pearl’s wolf-like ears, they used various clips and bobby pins to tame their bangs and prevent hair from getting in the way. Cleo got out easy with a spa headband, but she made up for it by helping Scott and Pearl pin back theirs before opening any product.
They were letting the product sit as Pearl finished applying polish to Cleo’s nails. She gently blew air on them to hopefully help speed up the process before instructing, “Now don’t touch anything!”
“I know how nails work!” Cleo protested, poking Pearl’s side with her foot, who promptly swatted her away with a chorus of giggles.
“Oh, wait! Scott!” Pearl turned to Scott, face lighting up and eyes going wide. “You can do little flower designs, can’t you?”
“Do you have the brush for it?” Scott inquired in return in lieu of a direct answer.
Pearl snagged the collection of nail polish again and dug around within it to see if anything else was inside. She pulled out even more cheap nail files– honestly, how many did they have or even need?– and a nail clipper before exclaiming “Aha! Got it.”
Scott beckoned Pearl to hand it over, so she did and shifted her position from sitting in front of Cleo to sitting in front of Scott. He snatched the white nail polish up to dip the thin-tipped brush into before taking Pearl’s hand in his. He squinted down at his canvas, assessing what he had to work with before carefully applying the mediocre skill he learned years ago by practicing on his little sister, Gem.
He ended up only flowering Pearl’s thumbs, which was more than fine with her. Scott offered to do the same for Cleo, but they declined in favor of watching a movie instead. They washed the product off of their faces and freed their now-messy hair from its confines. Cleo returned first since her hair required less effort to free, so she snagged then remote and started flipping through the various options on the television. When Scott and Pearl returned, they retrieved the comfy blankets from their hidey holes to bring to Cleo on the sofa.
Access to the television was another thing definitely prohibited during The Life Games. They were lucky if They allowed them to even have access to records and noteblocks! If something could be considered a luxury, it was unlikely they would be allowed it, making it something that they probably had to go without for however many week-long sessions it took for The Game to run its course.
Scott and Pearl plopped down on either side of Cleo as some movie started. Pearl leaned onto Cleo’s right shoulder, a yawn bellowing out from her chest. She seemed exhausted, and Scott couldn’t blame her– it was getting late.
The film started off fairly normal, though it promptly became evident that Cleo had selected a horror film. Any sleepiness the two sported before had faded, replaced with trembling limbs and arms curled around Cleo like they were their own personal stuffed animal. Scott yelped during a jumpscare, covering his face with his hands and pulling his legs in toward his chest while Pearl’s tail thumped against the couch in a pattern rapid along with her heartbeat. Cleo was the only one in the trio unaffected by the terror, appearing eerily content to be snuggled to on both sides. Maybe it was because they were partly undead themself, or maybe it was because this was their cheeky little plan all along.
And, honestly? Scott could respect it.
If it was her plan, then he felt less bad about the sheer force of his grip.
Cleo gave them grace once the horror movie concluded, throwing on a no-brainer comedy instead. Pearl was lulled to unconsciousness by the sweet sounds of the film’s laugh track, and Scott was nearly there himself.
“Thank you for this,” Scott murmured softly as he rested against his chosen soulmate, using their arm as his own personal pillow. “I needed it.”
He wondered for just a moment if Cleo had heard because they didn’t respond. Perhaps she had fallen asleep as well? It was some unholy time in the early morning, so Scott wouldn’t blame them. In fact, he was just about to follow his partners to dreamland when a kiss was pressed into his fluffy blue hair. “Sleep well, Scott.”
The ends of his lips twitched up as he snuggled closer to Cleo, rapidly losing his hold on consciousness. He gave her arm one final squeeze before drifting off, filled with joy and contentment knowing that he had the best partners in the world.