The Unseen Beauty of the Ungrateful

Chapter 5: Purple

Mumbo drew his fingers through the air, followed by glittering red lines which hung suspended.

"So then we use an observer here..."

Grian hummed to show he was listening, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Which connects to the system that's already been produced. Then once these lines are fused..." Mumbo snapped his fingers and his drawing materialized into a working phonograph, which fell onto the table with a thud. "We get the finished product!"

Grian's mouth opened slightly in an oh shape.

"I don't really understand anything you just said, but that's really cool"

Surprised by the complement, Mumbo ducked his head and scratched the back of his neck. Since entering the castle, Grian had relaxed a lot. He wasn't being nearly as snarky or crude, and wasn't unconsciously tugging his hood farther over his head to cover more of his face. Even his gloves lay discarded on the table, displaying his complex God symbol.

"Thanks... uh, do you want to see how it works?" Mumbo asked.

Grian nodded. Mumbo grabbed the crank and began to wind it up. After a couple rotations, the plateau began to turn and a low crackling came out of the speakers.

"I thought you said it played music"

"It-it does" Mumbo said, letting go of the crank. "But you need a record disk for that"

"A record...?"

"You'll see. Stress will send down the plans once I finish my business down here"

Grian's mouth scrunched up. The way his mask shifted on his face, Mumbo assumed he was furrowing his eyebrows.

"Stress?"

"You don't know Stress?" Mumbo was surprised. "The God of music?"

"Oh Music?! No way! I haven't seen her in-" he pressed his lips together as though he was cutting himself off, and continued in a lowered tone. "A long time. Stress huh? I didn't know she took on a chosen name"

He unconsciously ran a gentle finger along the golden rim of the pavillon.

"Do you... want to try turning the crank?" Mumbo asked, pushing the phonograph towards the small God.

Grian yanked back his hand as though he had been burned, clasping his fingers behind his back.

"No! Uh, no I really shouldn't. I'll probably break it"

"How could you possibly-"

"Don't ask. It's a very pretty device, so... I'll probably blow it up"

"Why would you do that?" Mumbo asked, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion.

"I don't want-!" He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and sighed. "Never mind. Why don't we just get some sleep"

"Why do we need to sleep?"

Grian grabbed Mumbo's hand between both of his, making the tall man blush and unconsciously attempt to lace their fingers together.

"What- what are you doing"

"I'm taking your pulse Mumbo Jumbo, what the hell are you doing?" He didn't wait for an answer, and thank Gods, because Mumbo couldn't imagine stringing together a sentence with the embarrassment squeezing his chest.

"Your pulse is slow because you're tired and hungry" he said, slapping Mumbo's hand away, and walking out of the room, waving at Mumbo to follow. "Human bodies need to be cared for. They're very sensitive and easily destructible. The last thing you want is to mess yours up and have to get a new one. The paperwork is a nightmare. Here's the kitchen"