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This was humiliating.
Blackrock’s greatest inventor, turned into this?! Some little planter-girl for an entirely separate faction?! This was stupid! Beyond embarrassing! Never in her life would she have ever imagined indulging in such trivialities, what on inpherno was she doing?!
And yet she could feel her heart start racing at the very thought of her intentions.
Subspace stood before the temple's entrance, her hands awkwardly balled into fists at her side while her eyes gazed up at the structure with uncertainty. Reduced to nothing but a nervous wreck that stood before the entrance to a lowly demon’s adobe; the sensation practically drove her mad.
Her skin buzzed against the warm wind, hardly registering within her fuzzy mind, all the while she felt sweat pour down the sides of her head like a waterfall, and it was stupid. So stupid, and she hated it, but at the same time she drank in each little sensation in her body as if she were in a desert and dying of thirst. Obeying the orders of a goddess who never gave her orders to follow in the first place— it was dehumanizing.
Because it was that lowly demon who’d occupied the role of said goddess, and it was so stupid, but Subspace was addicted to every little thing she did to her. The demon in question truly was her antidote, and the poisonous whirlwind that she was, Subspace hated that, but the cure felt so good at the same time, and her brain is racing again, and she’s back to inhaling the drug that drives her so insane.
Vinestaff twisted her brain beyond belief. Ruined her into a perfect, beautiful sculpture. And Subspace loathed it.
Subspace wasn’t sure just how long she’d been spacing out in front of the door, but it’d been too long for comfort, and only let her frustration grow beneath her skin like a parasite. All she had to do was knock, just knock on the damn door, but she didn’t, she didn’t, and why wasn’t she knocking?!
She wanted to run, she wanted to claw open the door, she wanted to claw out of her own skin, she hated this, she loved it, she loved her, she hated her, and when did the temple door open?
The scientist promptly snapped out of her hypnotism at the sound of someone clearing their throat, bringing a wide-eyed gaze to the attention of the figure in the doorway. Subspace thinks she’s seen him before. He stood with a firm stance, raising an eyebrow at the scientist when she finally recognized his presence.
“May I help you? ”
‘Slingshot’, she finally recalls. She cared little for the blue phighter, cared less for her connections to Vinestaff. Subspace has something of a tendency to neglect the littler details, tunnel visioning on the more important parts of the project. Whatever project this whole song and dance was, not even she knew, but it didn't matter because the more she tried to figure it out the more impatient the blue phighter grew.
Subspace sneered, crossing her arms with a prideful grin and declaring, “Why yes! You may help me!!” Surely he hadn't expected her to reply with that kind of confidence! Gotcha, huh! The scientist sat in expectancy for a few moments, waiting for this pest to step down, but he never did. The glare reflected in his eyes only burned more intensely, aching with something akin to accusatory intrigue.
The silence between the two grew very awkward very quickly, and if there was one thing she hated more than anything else, it was losing control of the situation. Before she knew it, she found her mouth forming a scowl behind her mask through baring teeth— just who does he think he is?!
A fool, she declares, he’s nothing but a useless fool. Subspace ends up being the one to back down from their staredown, throwing her hands up defensively as her rotting expression lightens up. “I’m only looking for Vinestaff!” The scientist declares with much more confidence in her tone than in her mind. This almost immediately jolted a reaction out of Slingshot, as she expected, prompting him to stand back and summon his gear up in a flash.
He shuffles, pulling the string in and aiming his weapon directly towards her face. He bore a threatening stance and an anger to his eyes; an empty threat the scientist has seen many times before. “The hell’s your business with Vinestaff?!” He demands with an assertive echo, and Subspace finds a certain bliss in the sheer control the reaction brought.
Subspace shifted her stance to place her hands on her hips, giving a cocky smile shown through her eyes. “My business with Vinestaff? Why, she invited me. As a matter of fact, she invited me to this temple’s very own garden !” She made sure to put a bit of emphasis on her words, just to drive it home. The baker’s face twisted in bewilderment at the mere thought and Subspace had to fight to hold back a laugh.
“...Are you armed?!” He retorts, eyes briefly scanning up and down to find anything suspicious on Subspace. And there’s none. She was gracious enough to not even bring a Biograft along with her!— Minus the one hiding somewhere farther from the temple. That one didn’t count. That was just to ensure she was safe on her way here.
Subspace scoffed, waving her arm in some other direction. “Course not! Who do you take me for?!”
“Someone dangerous.”
Subspace really had to fight to hold her laughter.
“Look,” the other began with demanding dripping from his tone. How repulsive— Subspace hated being bossed around. “Here’s the deal, kay? I dunno what you want with us or Vinestaff, and I don’t care, because you’re gonna turn your happy little ass back to where you came from, and you’re gonna stay away from my family or so help me gods-”
“SUBSPACE!”
An all-too familiar voice interjected between the probable-fight about to break out, causing Subspace’s heart to practically jump out of her chest. Right behind Slingshot, she could see the outline of such a goddess; just faintly, by the tips of her horns. Vinestaff. She held a giddy smile on her face as she rapidly approached the duo, much contrasted towards the aggression between them just a few moments before. Much contrasted to the scientist’s fluttering, rotting heart.
She stood by the door next to Slingshot, gazing up at Subspace with that stupid look in her eyes. With the same look she held when she’d look at her sprouting flowers. The same way she’d admire the little sprouts of nature. The same way her eyes lingered on the scientist. Oh she was gonna be sick. Whatever composure Subspace had before, forget it, it was long gone.
Slingshot could say the same too, taking a step back and lowering his weapon to gaze at his roommate. “Vine??” He practically stuttered out, rapidly darting his eyes between her and Subspace in utter disbelief. “-Waitwaitwaitwait, you know THE Subspace Tripmine ?? ”
The healer turned a glance towards him, before beaming and nodding rapidly like it was something to be prideful of. “Mhm! I thought I told you and Shuri, I was gonna work on the garden with a friend of mine!”
. . .
“ THAT’S YOUR FRIEND?!”
“ I’M YOUR FRIEND?!”
The air stilled between the three, Vinestaff blinking for a moment from shock of the two’s sudden jolt of a reaction. She held her hands together in a habit of nervousness (a trait Subspace picked up on) as she hesitantly answered, “Yes…?”
Subspace felt like she was gonna have a heart attack. No, no, she knew she was gonna have a heart attack. If the rot wouldn’t do her in, this would. Slingshot looked like he was thinking the same as well. If Subspace could see the stupid look on her own face she’d surely wished that the blue demon would’ve just shooed her away or something; that was far less embarrassing than this.
He swallowed, simply taking a step back and glaring at the inventor. “Vine… you can’t be serious. You- you know who she is, right?” He uttered, quiet enough to where it was obvious he was trying to hide it, but loud enough to where Subspace absolutely heard.
“Sling, don’t be so judgemental. You sound like Shuri right now.” She jabbed in return, shooting him a little pout. “She’s a lot nicer than she seems, I swear. You just have to get to know her!” Slingshot raised an eyebrow at the statement. Vinestaff noticed, and thus she tensed up a little. Subspace’s expression grimaced, and for a moment she thinks of interjecting, but she doesn’t. She merely observes as though she wasn’t even there.
“...You could join us in the garden, maybe?” She spoke, like a bargain, and the scientist suddenly decides that spectating is incredibly boring. Slingshot barging in on what was supposed to be quality time spent between Subspace and her muse— that was a thought Subspace really didn’t like.
Like a porcupine, she tensed up with a certain sharpness lingering in her stance. Almost too fast, Subspace jumped up, and hisses, “THAT WON’T BE NECESSARY!!” There’s a pause as she all-too-eagerly reached for Vinestaff’s hand. But she stopped herself, jolting it back when her eyes gazed upon her own rotting skin. “...Vinestaff and I can handle ourselves just fine!! We don’t need you to babysit us!” She decides to assert instead.
Slingshot was staring at her once more. Subspace hated being stared at. (Vinestaff, of course, being her exception; though maybe she just didn’t like the baker’s eyes.) But the brief flutter of hatred was interrupted by Vinestaff chuckling and moving to stand beside her, while placing a hand upon the scientist’s shoulder. The mere notion almost made Subspace jolt, but being the oh so very composed and mature scientist she is, she instead stiffened and gazed at the contact with a reddened face.
“She has a point, Sling!” The florist lightly teased with a gorgeous smile painted across her lips. “I appreciate your concern, but I wouldn’t have invited her if I didn’t know what I was doing.” Hell is that supposed to mean??? “We’ll be fine, I promise you.”
Slingshot paused for a moment, briefly darting his attention between the two demons with a contorted expression. Subspace could’ve sworn she could hear the gears turning in his head from how silent it had grown. Slingshot’s shoulders lowered as he let out a sigh, finally moving away from the doorway.
“Fine,” he hissed, and the permission nearly made Subspace cry out in joy. Celebrating at the prospect of permission from a low-life demon; gods, what’s wrong with her?! “But the moment she tries anything funny, call for me, yeah?” Slingshot spoke, and the aforementioned joy abruptly melted into an all-too-familiar apprehension. It was as if the scientist was nothing more than an obstacle to him, and gods it was infuriating ; even moreso to hear him command someone whom he didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as.
But Vinestaff, with her radiant smile that beamed none the wiser, lunged to give Slingshot a hug accompanied by an excited squeal. “Thank you, Sling!!’ She exclaimed with the brightest europhoria dancing around her mannerisms, and haha wow Subspace really wished she was the one who got hugged.
Yet Slingshot- in a predictable yet disgusting display of ungratefulness- returned only a low chuckle and a light shove. “Yeah, yeah, just go n’ have fun.” There was a certain poison behind the baker’s voice, the scientist quietly notes. Perhaps Subspace was merely jealous , but the longer she was forced to allow such an insignificant parasite feast on the air surrounding her dearest, the more impatient her mind grew.
No, impatient was the wrong word— enraged fit the description much better.
Without another thought through her brain, Subspace went all-in and reached out for Vinestaff’s wrist once more— only now, she hadn’t hesitated. The twisted mesh of surprise and anger that contorted upon the lowly demon’s face was nothing short of comedy gold; thus contrasted by the equally surprised yet flustered expression Vinestaff held.
“Why, thank you! We will!” Subspace spat with a touch of pride, sending an all-too plastic grin to Slingshot’s direction. (Despite her face being covered by the mask, she was sure Slingshot could tell, based on the souring glare his eyes bestowed upon her.) Vinestaff’s own hand found itself squeezing her grip, and she giggled; she laughed, holding her other hand up to her lips gods was she beautiful before abruptly tugging on Subspace’s hand.
Before she knew it, the florist was all too eagerly tugging her along the temple, beckoning her inside as they ran off to the garden.
Subspace wasn’t sure what she was expecting upon first stepping into the temple’s garden. But whatever those expectations were, it wasn't this.
She was immediately greeted with flourishing sights far beyond anything she'd ever dared to gaze upon. Nothing in Blackrock could ever even come close. Subspace wasn’t one to pay much attention to the finite beauties of the Inpherno, but even she felt a spark of amazement at the realm of colors she’d just waltzed into.
The crisp air around them had a certain… quality to it, that Subspace couldn’t quite identify but knew was there. It tickled against her face within a breeze while Vinestaff continued pulling her along, briefly nulling the rotting breath her mask had to filter out for her. (Had she paid better attention, she might’ve caught a glimpse of such rot leaking into the pure air.)
They traveled along through a plentiful spread of floristry, a dizzying assortment of hues bracing the world around them in an overwhelming merry-go-round. It would've burnt her eyes, really, had her object of intrigue not been right before her. Their interlocked hands, poisoned flesh and wooden scarring, leading the scientist through an unfamiliar world she wouldn’t have recognized elsewise.
Being hand-held like a toddler in a little garden. How embarrassing.
Being gently caressed through a realm so dear to her. How honorable.
Vinestaff must’ve noticed the strange look on her face, as her giddy little laugh erupted once more when their presence paused before an empty flower bed. “You alright, Subspace? You look a bit freaked out!” She cooed with a gentle tease— (had she been anyone else Subspace would’ve sent a Biograft on her already.)
But instead she merely swallowed, running her other hand through her scalp in a flustered desire to occupy herself. “Of– of course!” Came an unwilling stutter, and now she’s considering sending a Biograft on herself. “I’m, mmm– merely recalling my vast botany knowledge!”
A white lie, Subspace didn’t know shit about gardening, but Vinestaff either bought it or merely gave disregard. The light in her smile reflected once again, that same smile she can’t stop looking at and dissecting as if it were some kind of experiment . “If you say so!”
In a single tug from Vinestaff, the two found themselves knelt before the flower bed. An assortment of tools had already been prepared for the two, presumably set up by the healer next to her, though Subspace hadn’t recognized any of them. There was a green bottle with the words FLORA’S FERTILIZER imprinted on it, a little packet Subspace assumed were the seeds, and some kind of… sharp, flat knife? Among others.
The scientist wrinkled her nose as she turned to pick up the metal object, examining its reflection as though that’d make its purpose any more clear. In response, Vinestaff took it from her and set it back down. “That doesn’t come in until later, silly!” She exclaimed, and ohh gods she was blushing at the nickname.
“Usually I do this with my staff,” She began, gesturing to the gear strapped around her back. “But you mentioned that Blackrock didn’t have much plantation, right?” Which was true: Blackrock was more or less filled with nothing but dirt and snow. Maybe the occasional frosty plant that didn’t get destroyed by the industrialization of the faction. Subspace never gave it much thought until she met Vinestaff.
She nodded regardless though, feeling that same embarrassing strike of honor that her goddess had remembered a bit of one of her many tangents. Vinestaff seemed satisfied at this, grabbing the little packet of seeds and waving it before her. “Then I wanna teach you! That way, you can plant more flowers around your faction, and it’ll be prettier.”
Subspace’s heart skipped a beat.
She’d invited the scientist over— not for assistance, but to teach her some unimportant skill with no arbitrary usefulness?! Had she possessed half a brain, she would’ve given the healer a verbal beatdown for taking her for such a fool! Tricking her , even!
But she did not. Her mind and her body moved upon two entirely separate planes. Subspace’s muscles tensed up as she sat herself up, rampantly darting her gaze between the soil below them and the pink-horned demon smiling at her. She took in a breath, scrambling to exclaim words she couldn’t find, before she simply uttered– “I see!”
This. Was. Humiliating.
Vinestaff hummed a reply, beaming with an excitement as bright as ever as she moved to grab hold of her staff. “Then let’s get started! The first step,” she directed as she shifted her staff’s directory. Subspace really couldn’t believe she was allowing herself to be ordered around like this. With a dip and a glow, a translucent seed appeared right above the soil and planted itself into its burrow. Within a moment’s notice the soil below it began to glow, and a purple orchid bloomed from outside of it.
Subspace observed the process, entranced not by the flower but by the art of Vinestaff’s performance. She lightly patted the mossy area around its rooting, turning to Subspace to explain, “most orchids’ roots need lots of air circulation and something sturdy to anchor onto. Usually I’d grow them in little pots, but then you have to consider the pot type and everything— and that’s just too much work.” She waved off with a little huff, demeanor only briefly changing before flickering back to Subspace in excitement.
She waved her wand once more, turning another surrounding of soil into a bedding of moss. “See, like that! I prepared some moss for you to use! Go on and try it.” Vinestaff directed with a nod, and all of a sudden there was a very intense flutter of nervousness in the inventor’s chest. Had it not already been incredibly obvious with her demeanor thus far, Subspace had absolutely no clue what she was doing.
The healer waved her staff once more, summoning another seed but grabbing hold of it to hand to Subspace. She stared at it for a moment too long, but did eventually take—
It rotted in her hand.
The world came to an abrupt pause as the duo gazed at the little seed in her palm. As soon as it touched it, it’d shriveled up and dulled in it’s coloring: looking more like a raisin now than anything. The inventor’s heart skipped once more, but out of fear this time, (she can still feel fear?) and the obvious suddenly rammed into her like a truck.
Of course it would rot. Her hand- her body- her mind was drenched in an incurable rot of poison that was gradually draining her own life away. Subspace was all-too focused on her own draining lifeforce to take any acknowledgement to the lives around her. If her life was rotting, of course, exposure would cause other lives to rot alongside her.
“Oh,” Vinestaff breathed with drenching apprehension. In something of a frantic hurry to prove something, anything, she reached down to the moss and grasped it in her hand. The same thing happened- it rotted away. Subspace stared down with a helpless stare as it simply faded away .
“I’ll- be right back.”
She hadn’t even noticed Vinestaff had stood up besides her.
The scientist made an attempt to cry out, to rebuke a defense of, ‘it was a fluke!’ ‘Your moss was just weak!’ ‘I can do much better than this!’ ‘Trust me!’ But nothing came out. All she did was stare. Stare, as Vinestaff turned her back to leave her alone in the garden. Stare, as she found herself lost in this still-unfamiliar realm with no such guidance and rotting hands and—
Oh gods, she was gonna throw up.
She was nothing more than a little lamb who had been separated from its herd. A breath drew out from her, with hazy pink fumes infecting the air above in a rebuttal against it; certainly killing that once crisp air for good this time. Fear inhabited her heart, a fear she never knew she was capable of hosting, a fear that her goddess had bestowed upon her as a gift.
… Subspace was better than this. Far better! Who the hell does she think she is, falling knees-weak at the command of a lowly gardener?! Nothing, she meant nothing, she was just a little toy she grew a bit too attached to. A little spark of curiosity that inhabited her senses. Nothing more! It was her own fault she’d gotten too attached to a mere experiment. She didn’t need this, she didn’t need Vinestaff, she didn’t need sympathy, she didn’t need ANYTH—
“Subspace!”
Vinestaff called out from behind her. The chime felt oddly familiar. Like an attentive puppy, she whipped her body around to face the object of her ‘experiment’, only to be met with her gazer towering above her. (From the angle, she almost looked like one of the Swords: godly.) She was holding something in her hands- no, no, that wasn’t the important part, she was smiling.
Again.
She was still smiling.
She knelt back down and handed her the object, a pair of heavy-duty gloves. Subspace blinked at the offer, somewhere between a haze of confusion and a haze of ‘what the fuck?? I thought you left me????’, before hesitantly reaching out to hold the materials.
“I’m sorry,” Vinestaff spoke with shyness in her projection, and Subspace couldn’t help but wonder why she was apologizing as though she were a weakling. “I didn’t at all consider your rot. I should’ve prepared better…” She abruptly shook her head after the statement. “But, it’s okay! I still managed to find some gloves for you! This should make it much simpler.”
Subspace blinked. Stared. Staring. She’s been staring a lot lately. And then she smiled- her mouth moved entirely on its own, projecting something Subspace never thought herself capable of: a true smile with a soft undertone. But it shouldn’t have been very surprising, either— Vinestaff ruined her, after all.
“...Thank you.”
And Blackrock became much more beautiful after their day ended together.