Archive of Our Own ^beta

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across Boosfer's mushroom island base when Wemmbu materialized behind Boosfer from seemingly nowhere. His tail lashed under his cape as he surveyed the structures, irritation already prickling under his skin. He didn't have time for pleasantries. The invisibility potion was running out, but he didn’t really bother. 

Boosfer was organizing his inventory when he heard footsteps. He turned, antennae twitching with interest, and a slow grin spread across his upside down face as he took in Wemmbu's tense posture and the way the veil hiding his face caught the light. 

"Well, well, well," Boosfer drawled, leaning against a wall with exaggerated casualness. "If it isn't my favorite ball of anxiety and poor life choices. Let me guess—Your imposter is asking questions, and you've come to do something stupid about it?"

Wemmbu's eye twitched visibly under the veil as the invisibility slowly made him fade back into existence again. "We're leaving. Now."

"Ooh, 'we're leaving now,'" Boosfer mimicked in a deep voice, his antennae bouncing mockingly. "So demanding. So authoritative. Really working that whole 'creature of chaos' energy, huh?" He tilted his head, grin widening. "Does the dramatic entrance usually work for you?” 

"Boosfer." Wemmbu's voice was dangerously low. "I don't have time for your—"

"Your what? My sparkling personality? My incredible wit?" Boosfer pushed off from the chest, spreading his arms wide. "Come on, Wemm, you didn't come all the way out here just to be boring. At least commit to the bit. Threaten me a little. Make it interesting."

Wemmbu crossed the distance between them in two strides, grabbing Boosfer's wrist. "I said we're leaving."

"And I said," Boosfer yanked back, though he didn't actually break free—mostly because he was enjoying this too much—"you're being dramatic. What's Parrot gonna do, ask me nicely about your deepest darkest secrets? Please. I've dealt with actual interrogators. Your bird guy doesn't scare me."

"He doesn't need to scare you," Wemmbu snarled, his tail whipping behind him. "He just needs to get you talking, which apparently isn't hard since you never shut up."

"Aw, you noticed!" Boosfer's grin somehow got wider. "I'm touched. Really. You pay attention to me."

"I'm about to pay attention to my hands around your neck if you don't move."

"Ooh, threats already? We haven't even left yet." Boosfer finally let himself be pulled toward the door, but he dragged his feet the entire way, making Wemmbu work for every step. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be all powerful and chaotic, you're really predictable. 'Oh no, someone might learn my identity, better kidnap my friend'—I'm calling us friends—'and lock them in a box somewhere.'"

"We're not friends," Wemmbu ground out.

"Sure we are! You wouldn't kidnap me if you didn't care." They emerged into the open air, and Boosfer made a show of looking around. "Oh wow, look at that sunset. Gorgeous evening for a forced relocation. Really romantic. Is this your way of asking me on a date?"

Wemmbu's grip tightened painfully. "One more word—"

"One more word what? You'll get even more pissy? Hard to imagine, honestly. Your tail's already doing that angry whip thing. Any faster and you might achieve liftoff." Boosfer's antennae twitched with barely suppressed laughter. "Seriously, do you ever relax? Has anyone ever told you that you have control issues?"

They traveled to a room in the end, and Wemmbu practically dragged Boosfer in a small, windowless room carved from obsidian. A single torch flickered on the wall, casting dancing shadows that made Wemmbu look even more menacing. The invisibility potion had faded off by now, Wemmbu pulling off his veil. 

Boosfer didn't even wait for his vision to fully adjust to the darkness before starting up again.

"Wow. Wemm. Buddy. Pal." He looked around the cramped space with exaggerated disappointment. "This is your kidnapping location? I've seen better prison cells. Where's the ambiance? The mood lighting? At least throw down a rug or something. This is just sad."

Wemmbu released his wrist and stepped back, his tail still lashing in sharp, agitated movements. "You're staying here until Parrot leaves your island."

"Yeah, I figured that part out." Boosfer circled the room, his antennae twitching as he examined every corner. "What I'm trying to figure out is why you went with 'depressing box' as your aesthetic choice. Really says something about your mental state, you know? Very 'I'm dead inside and I want my decor to reflect that.'"

"I don't care what you think about the decor."

"Clearly. Because if you did, you'd have at least added a second torch. Maybe a painting. Ooh, or one of those little fake plants! Really brighten up the place." Boosfer spotted the single stool in the corner and immediately flopped onto it, somehow making even that look deliberately annoying. "So what's the plan here? You gonna stand there and brood at me until Parrot gets bored and leaves? Because I gotta warn you, I can out-talk anyone. It's kind of my thing."

"I'm aware," Wemmbu said flatly, pulling out his communicator.

"Are you though? Because I don't think you really thought this through." Boosfer leaned back, balancing the stool on two legs. "See, you've trapped yourself in here with me. In a small room. With no escape. Which means you have to listen to everything I say. Every. Single. Word."

Wemmbu's jaw clenched. "I can leave whenever I want."

"But you won't, because you're paranoid about me somehow escaping or telepathically communicating with Parrot or whatever weird scenario you've cooked up in that chaos-addled brain of yours." Boosfer's antennae bobbed cheerfully. "So really, you're just as trapped as I am. Except I'm having fun with it."

"You have a strange definition of fun."

"I have a great definition of fun! This is hilarious. You're so worked up over literally nothing." Boosfer started swinging the stool side to side, the legs scraping against the stone floor with an irritating screech. "Parrot probably just wanted to borrow some mushroom blocks or something. But nooo, Wemmbu's gotta make it a whole thing. A whole federal case. A kidnapping operation."

"He came to you before," Wemmbu said, his voice tight. "Asking about me. And now he's back."

"And? I didn't tell him anything then, I won't tell him anything now. Your secret identity or whatever is safe." Boosfer waved a hand dismissively. "You're freaking out over nothing. It's actually kind of funny. Do you do this often? Just randomly panic and make terrible decisions?"

Wemmbu's tail went completely still—which was somehow more threatening than when it was lashing. "You think this is a terrible decision?"

"Oh, absolutely. Terrible. Like, monumentally bad." Boosfer was grinning now, clearly enjoying himself. "You've kidnapped me, which is already illegal in most dimensions, and now you're stuck babysitting me in your sad little depression box. And the best part? Parrot's probably already gone by now anyway. So you did all this for nothing."

"He's not gone yet." Wemmbu's knuckles were white around his communicator.

"How do you know? You got like, a tracking device on him? That's creepy, dude. Super creepy. Does he know you're stalking him?" Boosfer leaned forward conspiratorially, his antennae tilting. "Is this what you do? Just monitor everyone's movements? Because that's giving obsessive energy. Very 'I have trust issues and make it everyone else's problem' vibes."

"I'm not—" Wemmbu cut himself off, taking a deep breath. "You're trying to get a rise out of me."

"Is it working?" Boosfer's smile was absolutely shit-eating. "Because from where I'm sitting, you look about thirty seconds away from a complete breakdown. Your tail's doing this little tremor thing like it did back in the under-nether when I had the mace. It's cute. In a pathetic sort of way."

Wemmbu turned slowly, and there was something in his eyes that would have made a smarter person shut up immediately.

Boosfer was not a smarter person.

"You know what's really funny about this whole situation?" Boosfer continued, undeterred. "You're supposed to be this big scary entity, right? Born from chaos itself, or whatever edgy origin story you've got going on. And here you are, throwing a tantrum because someone might ask me a question about you. It's like watching a toddler have a meltdown in a grocery store."

"I am not having a tantrum," Wemmbu said through gritted teeth.

"Sure you are! A big baby tantrum! Want me to get you a juice box? Would that help?" Boosfer made exaggerated soothing noises. "Shh, shh, it's okay Wemmy, nobody's gonna learn your secret identity, you can calm down now—"

Wemmbu crossed the distance between them and slapped him across the back so hard that Boosfer nearly fell off the stool.

"OW! Fuck!" Boosfer clutched his back, though his grin never fully disappeared. "Okay, okay, physical violence! We've escalated! Someone's feeling touchy!"

"That was a warning," Wemmbu growled. "The next one will hurt more."

"The next one? Oh, so we're doing this incrementally? Smart, smart. Gotta pace yourself." Boosfer straightened up, rolling his shoulders. "Though I gotta say, for someone threatening me, that was pretty weak. I've been hit harder by automatic doors."

Wemmbu's eye twitched violently.

"No, seriously, there was this one time, right? And the doors were malfunctioning, and one of them closed right as I was walking through—" Boosfer was fully back into story mode now, his antennae bouncing with each word. "—and let me tell you, that door had some serious velocity behind it. This? This was like a light tap. A love pat, really. Almost affectionate."

"It was not affectionate."

Could've fooled me! You barely put any force behind it!" Boosfer was clearly warming up to his subject now, despite—or perhaps because of—the violence. "If you're gonna hit me, at least commit. Make it mean something. Right now you're just kinda... flailing in my general direction. It's embarrassing for you."

"I am not flailing—"

"You kind of are though! Very flail-y. Very uncoordinated." Boosfer made vague waving motions with his arms. "Is it the tail? Does the tail throw off your balance? Because I've noticed you compensate a lot when you move, and—"

Wemmbu's tail whipped out and kicked the stool out from under him.

Boosfer hit the ground with a startled yelp, his limbs sprawling. "OKAY! Point taken! The tail is coordinated! I was wrong about the tail!"

"Are you done?" Wemmbu loomed over him, horns casting sharp shadows across Boosfer's face.

"Done? I'm just getting started!" Boosfer pushed himself up on his elbows, antennae slightly flattened but his expression still insufferably cheerful. "See, this is quality entertainment right here. How often do I get to watch someone completely lose their composure? This is great. I should've brought popcorn."

"You're insane."

"I'm pragmatic! I'm trapped in a box with an angry demon who's having an emotional crisis. Might as well enjoy the show!" Boosfer finally sat up fully, dusting himself off. "Plus, and here's the thing, you're not actually gonna kill me. So really, what's the worst that can happen? More stool-kicking? Maybe some light shoving?"

"I could do much worse than that," Wemmbu said quietly, dangerously.

"But you won't." Boosfer's grin was maddening in its confidence. "Because then how would you explain it to everyone? 'Oh yeah, I murdered Boosfer because he annoyed me.' Real good look for you. Very rational. Very stable."

Wemmbu's hands clenched into fists at his sides. He could feel the energy crackling under his skin, begging to be released. It would be so easy. So satisfying. Just a little bit, just enough to wipe that insufferable smile off Boosfer's face—

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" Boosfer observed, still sitting on the floor. "I can see it in your face. You're running through all the different ways you could hurt me without leaving evidence. It's written all over you. Very transparent."

"Shut up."

"Can't make me! We've established you need me alive and unharmed—well, mostly unharmed, I guess the stool incident was a bit of a gray area—so I can literally say whatever I want!" Boosfer's antennae perked back up to full height. "This is amazing. I have complete immunity. Do you know how rare that is? I should be taking advantage of this more."

"You're already taking advantage of it plenty," Wemmbu bit out.

"You think? Because I feel like I'm holding back. I haven't even started on your fashion choices yet. Or your general vibe. Or the way you definitely overcompensate with the whole 'dark and mysterious' thing because you're actually just really insecure underneath—"

Wemmbu grabbed Boosfer by the front of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. They were nose to nose now, close enough that Boosfer could see the way Wemmbu's eyes were practically glowing with barely restrained rage.

"Keep. Talking," Wemmbu whispered, his voice like gravel. "See what happens."

For a moment—just a moment—Boosfer's survival instincts actually kicked in. There was something genuinely threatening in Wemmbu's expression, something that suggested he was much closer to the edge than Boosfer had calculated.

Then Boosfer opened his mouth anyway.

"You've got this whole 'intimidating' thing down pretty well," he said conversationally, as if he wasn't being held off the ground by someone who could probably tear him apart. "Very impressive. Scary eyes, threatening whisper, the works. But here's the thing—and I mean this constructively—it loses some impact when your hands are shaking."

Wemmbu's grip tightened. "They're not shaking from fear."

"Oh, I know. That's rage-shaking. That's 'I want to commit violence so badly but I can't' shaking." Boosfer's grin was somehow still in place. "Must be frustrating for you. All that power, all that energy, and you can't use any of it because you need me intact. That's gotta sting."

"I don't need you intact," Wemmbu said slowly. "I just need you alive."

"Ooh, parsing words! I like it! So you're saying you could, what, break a few bones? Rough me up a bit?" Boosfer's antennae twitched thoughtfully. "I mean, you could try. But then I'd be screaming and bleeding and probably crying—I'm a very dramatic injured person, just so you know—and that seems like it would make this whole kidnapping situation way more complicated than it needs to be."

Wemmbu's hands were trembling now—definitely from rage, Boosfer had been right about that. "You are the most infuriating person I have ever met."

"Thank you! I try really hard!" Boosfer actually looked pleased. "It's a skill, honestly. Not everyone can get under someone's skin this effectively. It takes practice. Dedication. A complete lack of self-preservation instinct."

"That last part is very obvious."

"Right? I'm actually kind of impressed with myself. Most people would've shut up by now. But not me!" Boosfer's voice took on a mock-proud tone. "I just keep going and going, like one of those dinosaurs from Earth. Roar. Except more annoying. And with better antennae."

Wemmbu dropped him.

Boosfer stumbled but caught himself, immediately brushing off his shirt with exaggerated dignity. "Rude. You wrinkled my shirt."

"I'm about to do much worse than wrinkle your shirt."

"Yeah, yeah, threats threats threats. You know what I think?" Boosfer walked over to the stool—which was now on its side—and set it upright before sitting back down. "I think you're all bark and no bite. I think you like having someone you can threaten without actually following through because it makes you feel powerful without the messy consequences of actual violence."

Wemmbu's tail was lashing so fast it was nearly a blur.

"And you know what else I think?" Boosfer continued, because apparently he had decided today was a good day to die. "I think you secretly like me. Not in a weird way—don't make it weird—but in a 'this person makes my life interesting and I don't know how to process that' way. Because let's be honest, your life is probably super boring otherwise. Just lurking, being mysterious, avoiding Parrot. This is the most excitement you've had in weeks."

"I do not like you."

"Sure you do! You like me so much you kidnapped me! That's basically a declaration of friendship in your language, right?" Boosfer was on a roll now, his antennae bouncing with each word. "I bet you were sitting alone, brooding—because you definitely brood, that's your whole thing—and you thought, 'you know what would make this day better? If I went and grabbed Boosfer and locked him in a room with me.' Very telling."

"That is not—" Wemmbu pinched the bridge of his nose, his horns catching the torchlight as his head dipped forward. "I cannot believe I'm having this conversation."

"Neither can I! It's great! We're bonding!" Boosfer kicked his legs out cheerfully. "So while we're trapped here together, wanna talk about your feelings? Your childhood? I'm very curious about that last one actually—"

"No."

"Come on! We've got time! Parrot's probably poking around my island right now, looking at my chests, judging my organization system—which is flawless, by the way—and we're just sitting here. Might as well use this quality time productively!"

"Quality time," Wemmbu repeated flatly.

"Yeah! Quality time! You, me, a depressing obsidian box, and approximately"—Boosfer checked an imaginary watch—"however long it takes for Parrot to get bored. Could be hours. Could be days. We should really get comfortable with each other."

"I will never be comfortable with you."

"Not with that attitude!" Boosfer leaned forward, his eyes bright with mischief. "Come on, Wemm. Admit it. Somewhere deep down, beneath all the rage and the threats and the tail-lashing, you think I'm at least a little bit funny."

"I think you're a nightmare."

"Aw, that's sweet! You think about me!" Boosfer clasped his hands together mockingly. "I think about you too. Mostly in a 'wow that guy needs therapy' kind of way, but still. It's the thought that counts."

Wemmbu was seriously considering strangling him. His fingers actually twitched toward Boosfer's throat—he could see exactly where he'd place his hands, how much pressure he'd need to apply to finally, finally shut him up—

His communicator buzzed.

Wemmbu looked down at it slowly, reluctantly, like a man being pulled away from something he desperately wanted to do.

The screen showed a notification. Parrot was still on the island. Still looking around. Still potentially dangerous.

"So?" Boosfer prompted. "Is he gone yet? Or do we get to keep having this wonderful bonding experience?"

"He's still there," Wemmbu said through gritted teeth.

"Excellent!" Boosfer clapped his hands. "So where were we? Oh right, your childhood. Or lack of. Do you just sort of... manifest fully formed? That seems inefficient. What about the learning curve? How do you know how to walk and talk if you just pop into existence?"

"I'm not discussing this with you."

"Why not? What else are you gonna do? Stand there and glower at me? You've been doing that for like twenty minutes already. Let's mix it up!" Boosfer stood up from the stool and started pacing the small room, his antennae bobbing with each step. "Ooh, or we could play a game! Twenty questions! I'll go first—why are you like this?"

"Like what?"

"Like... this!" Boosfer gestured vaguely at all of Wemmbu. "So uptight. So paranoid. So willing to kidnap people over hypothetical scenarios. Was it a traumatic childhood? Can you even process emotions normally or is it all just anger all the time?"

"I'm going to brutally kill you."

"See, that's what I'm talking about! That's your response to everything! 'I'm going to kill you,' 'I'll strangle you,' 'shut up or else'—you need some new material. Branch out. Threaten me with something creative."

Wemmbu stared at him. "You want me to threaten you more creatively?"

"I mean, if you're gonna do it, at least make it interesting." Boosfer shrugged. "The murder stuff is getting old. Threaten to, I dunno, turn me into a toad. Or banish me to another dimension. Or make me listen to educational podcasts about tax law. Get creative with it!"

"I hate you so much."

"That's better! See, honesty! We're making progress!" Boosfer beamed at him. "This is good. This is healthy communication. Well, healthy-ish. The kidnapping part is still pretty unhealthy. But we're working through it!"

Wemmbu's tail whipped out and smacked Boosfer in the shin.

"OW! Shin! You hit my shin!" Boosfer hopped on one foot, his antennae flattening. "That's a bony area! That's a vulnerable spot! Targeting the shins is a low blow!"

"Everything is a low blow with you because you never stop talking long enough for me to aim higher."

"Oh my god, was that a joke? Did you just make a joke?" Boosfer stopped hopping, eyes wide with mock-amazement. "Character development! Look at you go! Next thing you know, you'll be laughing at my jokes and admitting we're friends and—"

Wemmbu grabbed the stool and threw it at the wall.

The crash was incredibly satisfying. The stool broke apart into several pieces, wood splintering across the obsidian floor.

Boosfer looked at the destroyed furniture, then at Wemmbu, then back at the furniture.

"So... no sitting down anymore?" he said finally. "That's cool. I can stand. Standing is good for you anyway. Better for your posture."

Wemmbu let out a long, frustrated scream. It echoed off the walls, making the torch flicker.

"Better?" Boosfer asked once it faded. "Feel like that got some of the anger out? Because I gotta say, you look like you could still use another one. Maybe two. Really let it out. Don't hold back on my account."

"I want to hurt you so badly," Wemmbu whispered, and there was something raw in his voice now, something almost desperate. "You have no idea how much I want to hurt you right now."

"I have some idea," Boosfer admitted, gesturing at the broken stool. "The furniture abuse was a pretty big clue. But here's the thing, Wemm—can I call you Wemm? I'm calling you Wemm—you're not going to hurt me. Because underneath all the rage and the chaos energy and the demon aesthetic, you're actually kind of a softie."

"I am not—"

"You are! You're a big softie with zero aura points. Negative aura, even. Like, minus 1000." Boosfer made a dismissive gesture. "This whole kidnapping thing? Not giving what you think it's giving. Very mid energy."

Wemmbu stared at him. "What the hell does that mean?!"

"What does what mean?"

"Aura points. Mid energy. What are you even saying?" Wemmbu's horns seemed to tilt with his confusion, his tail pausing mid-lash.

"Oh my god, you don't know?" Boosfer's face lit up with delight. "Oh this is perfect. This is amazing. You're telling me you've been alive for however long, and you don't know basic terminology?"

"It's not basic if I don't know it!"

"It absolutely is! Everyone knows this stuff!" Boosfer was practically bouncing now, his antennae vibrating with excitement. "Okay, okay, so aura is like... your vibe. Your presence. How much people respect you. And you, my guy, have absolutely zero rizz."

"Zero what?" Wemmbu's eye twitched again.

"Rizz! Charisma! The ability to, like, be cool and intimidating and have people actually take you seriously!" Boosfer gestured wildly. "Which you don't have! Because you're giving very much 'I peaked in high school' energy—wait, did you go to high school?"

"Stop changing the subject!" Wemmbu snapped. "And stop using words that don't make sense!"

"They make perfect sense! You're just old!"

"I'm not old!"

"You're giving old energy. Very 'back in my day' vibes. Very 'kids these days with their slang.'" Boosfer was grinning so wide it had to hurt. "This is incredible. I broke you. Not with the insults or the annoying stories, but with modern slang. I found your weakness."

Wemmbu looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. "I do not have a weakness for—I don't even—what does 'giving' mean in this context?!"

"It means like, you're giving off that vibe, you know? You're serving that energy." Boosfer paused. "Wait, you don't know serving either, do you?"

"SERVING?! Serving what?! I'm not serving anything!" Wemmbu's voice had gone up an octave. His tail was now whipping around in complete confusion rather than anger.

"See, this is why you have no aura. You can't even keep up with basic conversation." Boosfer shook his head in mock disappointment. "Honestly, it's giving boomer. Actually, it's giving medieval. Are you sure you're from chaos and not from like, the 1800s?"

"I'm going to—" Wemmbu cut himself off, his hands curling into fists. "I don't even know what to threaten you with anymore because I don't understand half of what you're saying!"

"That's so funny. Like, actually hilarious." Boosfer wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "You're over here trying to be all scary and mysterious, and you're getting ratio'd by vocabulary you don't understand."

"RATIO'D?!" Wemmbu actually shouted. "That's not even a word!"

"It is though!”

"That doesn't make any sense! None of this makes sense!" Wemmbu grabbed his horns in frustration. "Are you just making up words to confuse me?!"

"I'm not! I swear I'm not!" Boosfer was laughing now, his antennae bouncing with each shake of his shoulders. "This is real! This is how people talk! You're just so out of touch it's actually sad!"

"I am not out of touch!"

"Dude, you didn't know what rizz meant. That's like... that's ground zero of being out of touch. That's the definition." Boosfer counted on his fingers. "You don't know aura, you don't know rizz, you don't know ratio... what else don't you know? Do you know what 67 means?"

Wemmbu's expression went completely blank. "...The number? Between 66 and 68?"

Boosfer lost it. He doubled over laughing, his whole body shaking. "Oh my god! Oh my god, you actually—you really just—" He couldn't even finish the sentence.

"What?! What does it mean?!" Wemmbu demanded, and there was something almost desperate in his voice now. "Why are you laughing?!"

"Because—" Boosfer gasped for air. "Because you're so confused! You're so genuinely confused and it's the funniest thing I've ever seen!" He straightened up, wiping his eyes.

"That explains nothing!"

"I know! That's what makes it perfect!" Boosfer's grin was absolutely manic now. "You can't logic your way through it! It just is! And you hate that!"

Wemmbu's tail had stopped moving entirely. He was just standing there, looking completely lost and furious about it. "I don't... I can't... this is the worst conversation I've ever had."

"Nah, this is top tier conversation. This is SSS-tier. Do you know what SSS-tier means?"

"DON'T!" Wemmbu pointed at him aggressively. "Don't you dare start explaining another thing! My brain is full! I can't take anymore of your incomprehensible gibberish!"

"It's not gibberish! It's evolution of language! It's cultural development!" Boosfer was having the time of his life. "And the fact that you don't understand it means you're officially ancient. Prehistoric. A dinosaur. You are not sigma.”

"I'm going to throw you through a wall."

"See, there you go with the violence again. Very low aura move. If you had any rizz at all, you'd just come back with a better insult." Boosfer tilted his head thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't think you could. This is probably really hard for you. You're used to being all mysterious and threatening, well, not anymore, big guy.”

"I am not out of my depth in my own kidnapping scenario!"

"You so are though! I've completely derailed this! You wanted to lock me up and keep me quiet, and instead you're getting a linguistics lesson you didn't ask for and can't understand!" Boosfer spread his arms triumphantly. "I've won. I've completely won. You can't even threaten me properly anymore because you're too busy trying to figure out what 'mid' means!"

Wemmbu made a sound that wasn't quite a scream and wasn't quite a growl—something between the two that spoke of deep, profound frustration.

"You good?" Boosfer asked innocently. "You're looking a little unhinged. Very much giving 'losing it' vibes. Might wanna take a breath there, bestie."

"Do NOT call me bestie!"

"Why not? We're basically besties now! We've shared this whole experience together! You've learned so much!" Boosfer counted on his fingers again. "You've learned that you're out of touch, that your aura is non-existent, that your rizz levels are in the negatives, and that I can talk circles around you using vocabulary you don't understand. This is growth! Character development!"

"I'm going to develop my fist into your face," Wemmbu snarled.

"Oof, okay, that was actually pretty good. Not great, but better." Boosfer nodded approvingly. "See? You're learning! Maybe there's hope for you yet! In like, fifty years, you might actually understand how people talk!"

Wemmbu lunged forward and shoved Boosfer hard enough that he stumbled backward into the wall.

"OW! Okay! Physical touch! We're doing physical touch!" Boosfer rubbed his shoulder, still grinning. "Very aggressive. I'd rate that like a 6 or 7 out of 10 on the violence scale. Could use more commitment."

"More commitment?!" Wemmbu looked like his brain was short-circuiting. "You want me to hit you harder?!"

"I mean, if you're gonna do it, do it right! You're half-assing the intimidation thing!" Boosfer pushed off from the wall. "It's giving 'I want to be scary but I'm worried about the consequences.' Very conflicted. No aura whatsoever."

"STOP SAYING AURA!"

"But you don't have any! It's a factual statement!" Boosfer's antennae were practically vibrating with glee. "Negative aura. Rizz-less behavior. Mid energy. These are just objective observations!"

"They're nonsense observations using nonsense words!"

"They're valid observations using valid words that you're too old to understand!" Boosfer shot back. "This is literally so funny. Like, I'm having the time of my life right now. This is peak entertainment. 10 out of 10, would get kidnapped again just for this."

Wemmbu grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!"

"Can't! We've established this! I'm immune!" Boosfer's voice wobbled with the shaking but he was still smiling. "And now you’re getting physical meaning Im winning—"

Wemmbu released him with a frustrated shout and turned away, his hands in his hair, his horns catching the light as he paced in tight circles. His tail was lashing again, faster than ever.

Boosfer straightened his shirt, absolutely radiating smug satisfaction. "You know what the worst part is? The worst part is that I'm not even at my full power yet. I could keep going. I have so many more things to say. So many more words you don't know. Like 'bussin.' Or 'slaps.' Or 'no cap.'"

Wemmbu spun around, his eyes wild. "WHAT DO ANY OF THOSE MEAN?!"

"See, now you're curious! Now you want to know!" Boosfer waggled his eyebrows. "But I don't think I should tell you. I think I should keep you in suspense. Let you wonder. Let it eat at you."

"I don't care! I don't want to know!" Wemmbu insisted, but there was a crack in his voice that suggested otherwise.

"You totally do though. You're gonna go home after this and you're gonna think about it. You're gonna lie awake at night wondering what 'bussin' means. It's gonna haunt you." Boosfer's grin turned absolutely evil. "And every time you hear someone use slang you don't understand, you're gonna think of me. Of this moment. Of how thoroughly I broke your brain."

"I hate you," Wemmbu said, but it came out weak, defeated. "I hate you so much."

"Yeah, but now you're gonna hate me AND be confused! Double whammy!" Boosfer sat down on the floor since the stool was destroyed, crossing his legs comfortably. "This has been great for me. Really great. Thanks for kidnapping me, honestly. This is the most fun I've had all week."

Wemmbu just stared at him, his chest heaving, his tail drooping slightly. He looked exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, physically exhausted.

"You good?" Boosfer asked, with what might have been actual concern.

"Stop talking," Wemmbu said weakly.

"Can't. Im trying specifically to annoy you." Boosfer's antennae twitched happily. "You've created a monster. This is your fault."

Wemmbu walked to the wall and just... stood there. His forehead pressed against the obsidian. His horns scraped slightly against the stone.

"Oh no, did I break you for real?" Boosfer leaned forward, peering at him. "Like, actually break you? Because I was joking about the emotion thing but you're giving very much 'I've given up on life' vibes right now."

"I need you to stop talking," Wemmbu said into the wall. "For five minutes. Just five minutes of silence."

"Hmm... no." Boosfer settled back. "I don't think I will. Because here's the thing—and this is gonna blow your mind—the more you ask me to shut up, the more I want to talk. It's like a compulsion. You've activated my trap card."

"…Your what card?"

"My trap card! It's a—okay, you know what, that's probably also before your time. Or outside your cultural knowledge. Or whatever." Boosfer waved a hand. "Point is, you've made this worse for yourself. If you'd just let me be annoying naturally, I might've gotten bored. But now? Now I'm motivated. Now I'm inspired. Now I'm gonna talk forever."

Wemmbu slammed his fist against the wall.

"Ooh, more violence against inanimate objects! Love that for you! Very stable behavior!" Boosfer nodded encouragingly. "Let it out! Express those emotions! Very therapeutic! Though I gotta say, you're still giving stressed energy. Might wanna work on that. Bad for your aura."

"WHAT DOES AURA EVEN MEAN?!" Wemmbu screamed at the wall.

"I already told you! It's your vibe! Your presence!" Boosfer threw his hands up. "Are you even listening to me or are you just selectively remembering things?!"

"I can't remember anything because you're talking too much and nothing you say makes sense!"

"It all makes sense! You're just old!"

"I'M NOT OLD!" Wemmbu spun around, and there were actual tears of frustration in his eyes. "I'm not old! I'm just—I don't understand—why do you talk like this?!"

Boosfer actually paused, his antennae lowering slightly. "Oh. Oh wow, you're actually upset about this."

"YES! YES I'M UPSET!" Wemmbu gestured wildly. "You've been talking for—I don't even know how long—and I understand maybe a quarter of what you're saying! And every time I ask for clarification, you just say more confusing things! And I can't—I don't—" He cut himself off, breathing hard.

There was a beat of silence.

"That's actually kind of sad," Boosfer said finally. "Like, genuinely sad. You're having a crisis over slang."

"It's not just slang! It's everything! You come in here, into MY kidnapping—"

"Your kidnapping that you initiated," Boosfer interjected.

"—and you've somehow made me the uncomfortable one! In my own hostage situation!" Wemmbu's tail was lashing erratically now. "And I'm getting—what did you say? Ratio'd?!"

"Yeah, you're getting super ratio'd. Like, astronomically ratio'd." Boosfer's grin was creeping back. "This might be the most thoroughly ratio'd anyone has ever been."

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!"

"I know! That's what makes it so funny!"

Wemmbu made another one of those frustrated not-quite-screaming sounds and kicked the broken remains of the stool across the room.

"There we go! Let it out!" Boosfer encouraged. “ Though again, taking it out on furniture instead of me—low aura move."

"I'm going to—" Wemmbu stopped himself, taking a deep breath. "No. No, I'm not going to engage. I'm not going to let you bait me into another spiral of confusion and rage."

"Too late! You're already there! You've been there for like ten minutes!" Boosfer was fully back to enjoying himself. "And honestly? I think you're gonna stay there. Because now you know that there's this whole world of language you don't understand, and it's gonna eat at you. Forever."

Wemmbu's eye twitched.

"See? Already eating at you." Boosfer pointed at his face. "That twitch? That's the knowledge that you're out of touch. That's the realization that you're not as cool and mysterious as you thought. That's your aura crumbling in real-time."

"My aura is not—" Wemmbu stopped. "I don't even have an aura! That's not a real thing!"

"It is a real thing! It's a concept! A social construct!" Boosfer insisted. "And yours is in the negatives! Probably like, negative 5000 at this point!"

"Based on WHAT metric?!"

"Based on the fact that you've lost control of your own kidnapping and are now having an existential crisis about modern slang!" Boosfer counted off on his fingers. "That's like, multiple aura point deductions. Huge ones."

Wemmbu looked at his communicator desperately, as if hoping for a message that would save him from this nightmare.

Nothing.

Parrot was still on the island.

He was still trapped here.

With Boosfer.

Who was now humming something off-key while his antennae bobbed cheerfully.

"How much longer," Wemmbu said quietly, dangerously, "is Parrot going to be there?"

"I dunno! Could be hours!" Boosfer said brightly. "He's very thorough! Probably looking through every chest! You know how he is!"

Wemmbu made a sound like a dying animal.

"Aw, don't be like that! We're bonding! This is quality time!" Boosfer's grin was absolutely insufferable. "By the time you let me go, we're gonna be best friends! I'll teach you all the slang! You'll finally understand what people are saying! It'll be great!"

"I would rather die."

"No you wouldn't. You're too invested in whatever mysterious thing you've got going on." Boosfer waved dismissively. "Plus, and I'm just spitballing here, I think you secretly like having someone who treats you like a normal person instead of being scared of you."

"You should be scared of me."

"But I'm not! And that bothers you! Which is hilarious!" Boosfer's antennae did a little happy wiggle. "You can't intimidate me with violence OR with your mysterious demon vibes, so now you're just stuck with me being annoying and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Wemmbu sank down to the floor, his back against the wall, his horns tilting forward as his head dropped into his hands.

He looked defeated.

Utterly, completely defeated.

"Aww, no, don't give up! We still have so much time left!" Boosfer scooted closer, his expression gleeful. "I haven't even told you about 'slay' yet! Or 'ate'! Or 'it's giving'—wait, I did that one. Okay, but there's still so many more! This is gonna be great!"

From behind his hands, Wemmbu's voice came out muffled and broken:

"I should have just let Parrot ask his questions."

Boosfer's laugh echoed through the obsidian chamber, bright and terrible and absolutely merciless.

And Wemmbu knew, with horrible certainty, that this was going to be the longest day of his entire existence.

Two hours later, Wemmbu was sitting against the opposite wall, his tail wrapped around himself protectively, while Boosfer explained the intricacies of "stan culture" using increasingly wild hand gestures.

"—and that's why saying someone 'ate and left no crumbs' is a compliment, but saying they 'ate' can sometimes be sarcastic depending on the context—are you even listening?"

"No," Wemmbu said flatly, staring at the ceiling.

"Rude! I'm trying to educate you!" Boosfer's antennae drooped in mock offense. "This is important cultural knowledge!"

"It's torture. This is actual torture."

"It's only torture because you're resisting! Just embrace it! Let the knowledge in!" Boosfer stood up, pacing excitedly. "Okay, okay, next topic—the evolution of 'oof' as a response! So it started as just a general expression of pain or sympathy, but now it can mean—"

Wemmbu's communicator buzzed.

He grabbed it so fast he nearly dropped it.

His eyes scanned the message once. Twice. Three times, just to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

"He's gone," Wemmbu whispered, and his voice cracked slightly with relief.

"Parrot?" Boosfer perked up. "Finally! I was running out of slang to explain! Though I still didn't get to 'gyatt'—"

"I don't care." Wemmbu was already on his feet, already channeling the energy to slam open the door. "I don't care about any of it. We're leaving. Now."

"Aw, but we were having such a good time!"

Wemmbu grabbed Boosfer's arm with perhaps more force than strictly necessary. He put on his elytra and immediately dragged the alien out of the room. 

In a flash, Wemmbu flew to the mushroom island, grabbing Boosfer practically by the neck.

The evening air felt like a blessing. The sound of waves felt like salvation.

Wemmbu shoved Boosfer forward, probably harder than he needed to.

"Good riddance!" he snarled, his voice hoarse from hours of shouting. "Go back to your base! Organize your chests! Do whatever you want! Just stay away from me!"

Boosfer stumbled, caught himself, and turned around with that same insufferable smile.

"Aw, you're gonna miss me though!" He waved cheerfully, his antennae bouncing. "And remember—work on that aura! Maybe watch some videos online! Learn the lingo! You'll thank me later!"

"I will never thank you for anything!" Wemmbu's tail was lashing so hard it was kicking up dirt. "You're the worst person I've ever met! The absolute worst! I hope I never see you again!"

"Love you too, bestie!" Boosfer blew him a kiss.

Wemmbu vanished within a second, but not before Boosfer heard one final, anguished scream of frustration that echoed across the mushroom island.

Boosfer stood there for a moment, grinning to himself, before heading back inside his base.

"Negative aura," he muttered happily, his antennae twitching with satisfaction. "Absolutely zero rizz. This was the best day ever."

Back at the end, Wemmbu immediately went to the edge of the void and screamed for a solid 30 seconds. 

When he finally stopped, his throat raw, his tail drooping with exhaustion, he pulled out his communicator to send a message confirming the situation was resolved.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Then, against his better judgment, he typed into the search function:

"What does 67 mean"

He stared at the results.

He read the definition.

He threw his communicator across the room.

"I KNEW IT DIDN'T MAKE SENSE!" he shouted to no one.

But somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, a small voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—it did make sense.

And he hated that most of all.

His communicator buzzed from where it had landed. Probably someone checking in. Probably work-related.

Wemmbu trudged over to pick it up.

The screen showed a message from Boosfer:

"btw you're giving very much 'pressed' energy rn. might wanna work on that. no cap fr fr 💀"

Wemmbu stared at the message.

At the skull emoji.

At the words "fr fr."

He turned off his communicator.

He was going to hide in the end for a week.

Maybe a month.

Maybe forever.

“Wemmbu bro, you okay?” Egg concerningly popped his eye in the room.