Work Text:
Another day of Quackity hanging out at the Polish cave. At least it was better than the cold Federation prison. He felt at home here.
He liked talking to other polish people. They tend to have a different sense of humor than the hispanics; and they teach him some of the jokes and facts about their nationality.
Most of them weren't present that day. But Quackity knew what he could do!
He decided to annoy his favorite Polish scientist today. NeedYourBlood aka Multi!
The avian made his (long) way to the scientist's room. Almost didn't make it, the trap doors still confused him.
Multi seemed to be working on another project today, all of the papers stacked up indicated some big plans.
Quackity knocked twice on the wall, since there was no door but an invisible entrance. His head was peaking narrowly from it. " Hey Multi! "
" Hey hey, come in. " The scientist swivelled on his chair and greeted him with a slight surprise. He had already forgotten that Quackity knows the complicated way to get to his room with all the traps, security passes and shit. Not many people come into his room anyway. " What do you need? "
" Nothing actually." He stretched his arms as if he had taken a nap a moment ago. " Well, you said some time ago that you would explain to me how your missile works. Or the story behind making it? "
Multi couldn't resist those chocolate eyes of his.
" Yes absolutely, I will, don't worry. " He stood up. "Look out the window, isn't it great? " He tapped the green glass, showing his personal work of art before glancing sideways at him. Since the truman project was not one of his current plans, he decided to move his' and nacho's rooms to admire the missile on the other side of the glass.
" It is incredible, I've been looking at it all day. "
The sparkle in Quackity's eyes made Multi smile.
" My pleasure then, uh, " He paused for a quick thought on pointed at the bed. " Go sit right there, I'll get everything ready to show you how the process began visually. "
Quackity did just that and heard shuffling in the cabinets before the scientist came back.
Multi sat next to him and spread out a few sheets of paper with different kids of data, sketches, equations, formulas and statistics of the progress he had made.
Quackity put his chin to the palm of his hand and started listening to this, as others say, ''never-ending story''.
" So about the nuclear weapon, built from the strongest material I could harvest, magnesium to be exact. It took me weeks to get it. Now you might ask why it is the strongest, well– "
As Multi tried to put his words together for the other to understand as much as possible, Quackity found himself distracted. He kept getting distracted by the other's hair, there was something wrong with them. Two or three dreads looked different than the rest. The ends looked.. detangled? Almost shallow.
" Hello? Earth to Quackity? "
Quackity heard fingersnapping and immidiatelly came back to reality. " Sorry, yes, I'm listening! "
" So, as I was saying, 'Graf, we need more of this, the missile won't be stable in any other scenario' so he had the audacity to– "
With every sentence, he was getting more and more gesticulative. From hands throwing signs, one moment pointing at the underlined words on the paper, the next moving between the papers, to reenacting scenes word for word from conversations that took place in the reactor. Now Quackity understood why people have described it as ''never-ending''. Even though it interested him more than anything, his head started to feel heavier than before coming into the room.
" —and that's why I had to get that material myself, but when I was gone Ewron almost caused a nuclear reaction and— "
Quackity didn't know if he was fighting sleep or the courage to ask him about the dreads. Honestly speaking, he could sleep to the sound of the other's voice. He poured out important information with such a passion.
" —Of course, I kicked him out, gave the dude a timeout I'd say. Anyways, the fuel tanks inside— "
Quackity liked that spark in him.
Yet from this specific talk, all he understood was ' uranium, missile, chemical reactions, uranium, federation, proper name, place name, uranium, uranium, uranium '. It didn't matter to him what the other was talking about, it was lovely to listen to it nonetheless.
But that was not the case now.
There was something wrong with his hair.
Multi was still going on about the missile. He took a hint only a few moments later, when Quackity's expression looked off.
" Something's on your mind? "
Besides his question, there was no sign of irritation at all.
Quackity's heart skipped a beat from getting caught once again. " I'm sorry, I keep dozing off. It's not you, I promise.. I just— okay. "
Quackity was searching deep inside his mind for the right words to soft-launch his next sentence. It didn't necessarily work the way he wanted to, but he had no time left as Multi's brow raised in confusion.
" Please, take this information as lightly as possible. Some of your dreadlocks look slightly.. off. "
" What? " Multi went rigid, involuntarily looking up.
Quackity shifted his position to reach out for the dreads, lightly pulling them down for the scientist to see. " Check it out. "
He springed up to the full body mirror he had in his room to get a better view of the hair.
" F— How? " Dumbfounded, he pulled one of the dreads, inspecting it. They looked deader than ever. No color of radioactive green left, frizzy in an unusual way. " That is beyond the laws of physics! The laws of nature! How could it have happened?! "
Quackity's head popped up behind him in the mirror, letting out a laugh but not in a mocking way. " Did you go somewhere that made them that way? Adventure maybe? Weird shampoo? Radiation? Or you could have snatched them on something... branches? "
" Fuck, uh. Right, I knew I couldn't trust that shampoo from Żabka.. Oh my fucking god. "
Multi rubbed his eyes, trying to maintain his composure. Of course, he didn't care about his appearance, but he grew furious that he didn't notice it earlier; or that no one notified him about this.
He took Quackity by the shoulders and shook him lightly. " Jebać Ewrona, kurwa! "
The next second he was on the other side of the room, walking back and fourth.
" No–no, dude, I'm not judging. I think it's— grunge? Punk even. "
Quackity didn't know if he was trying to sound convincing to Multi or himself. Certainly he knew it was.. different.. but he didn't want the other to have another killing spree-crashout.
" I think it looks good on you! I swear, I love y—.. it! "
" What? "
" What? "
...
He meant it he meant it he meant it he meant it hemeantithemeantithemeantithe–meant the hair looks good he meant ... he loves the vibe, okay!..
He just blurted that out. No strong emotion attatched to it.
Multi walked up to the mirror again, pulling on the dreadlock. Good enough he ignored what Quackity said a second before. " I still have to get rid of it.. " He brought his other hand to his dark eyebag and kept on staring at himself.
" The color's faded, I look like absolute shit and I can't even remember the last time I took good care of them. "
" Hmm, I actually know a thing or two about dreads.. As I said, I'm always here to help. I believe I had some oils in here.. "
'Why not?' Multi asked himself as Quackity checked his inventory for the right ingredients for the ''procedure''.
Mullti's fingertips pressed against eachother. " Why do you know how to handle dreads? "
" Ah, I used to like them as a kid. Couldn't get them professionally done back in the day. "
When they sat down to this, Multi's crisscross looked almost pathetic for a guy who had a missile next to his bedroom. He hadn't put away the papers from the bed, he still kept talking about the topic despite the situation.
To be honest, Quackity was talented at this. Getting it done professionaly made Multi feel like sitting at the hairdresser's, 1000 zł for every appointment. No wonder Quackity himself had such perfect, lucious hair if he habored such a skill. Thank God he didn't see Multi's expression from behind.
Quackity felt pleased he could help the scientist in some way. Nothing bothered him during it, unless it were his wings twitching or flapping uncontrollably from the nervoussness.
Multi figured out if he kept talking, he wouldn't have to deal with an awkward silence between them two; and wouldn't fall asleep in the middle of it. It was difficult not to. Having his hair massaged from the roots with a leave-in conditioner, sitting so comfortably and sporadic caresses from the wings of the other were making him doze off. Despite that, panic kicked in occasionally; it was so safe, too safe. Too safe for his personal rules and boundaries.
During this endless, one-sided conversation (Quackity responding in small hums didn't count), Multi couldn't choose between freaking out about the human touch he hadn't recieved in a long time or still wondering about the suspicious circumstances of this phenomenon with his dreadlocks.
The color from radiation couldn't have worn off just like that. There had to be another reason. Ewron's Żabka products couldn't have been the only reason for this.
He thought for a moment in silence.
Decontamination! That's it! Multi suggested that the Polish Cave had to use a stronger decontamination system with harsher chemicals, so the radiation wouldn't spread radically.
'Co za nie dużo to nie zdrowo' rule probably applies to everything..
Multi explained the possible backstory of this outcome to Quackity and they laughed pathetically, wondering if this could happen to the other polish hussars in the near future.
The atmosphere calmed down, but not for long. Multi's eyes travelled across the papers until they spotted one singular yellow feather. Jackpot.
Multi turned his head and glanced sideways with a smirk, while holding the object with his two fingers. " Lost something? "
" Oh my god, give it! "
A mix of shame, fear and anger all at once painted his face. It wasn't known for many that Quackity felt embarrased everytime his feathers shedded, especially in-doors. For him, it wasn't a sign of rebirth, but frailty; a weak spot stabbing his self-respect of some sorts.
Quackity tried to plunge at him to retrieve the feather but was blocked due to the scientist's back being in the way. His hand out of reach, it frustrated him so much that he wanted to just get buried six feet underground.
" Nah, finders keepers. "
Pure mockery. The avian's wings were now full on fluttering at max speed. It was like the other knew every move he was going to desperately use just to win.
" You fucking polish people- Culicagado ! Fucking thieves! Eres un imbécil! " His voice cracked. It was even more humiliating, struggling to keep his guard up while trying to snatch the feather from every side possible.
Multi ironically struck a nerd pose, when he found the perfect opportunity to move. " ah, right! We also have this imbecyl word in polish! "
A small hint of laughter popped up, same with a grin. " Stop playing! " He was honestly so done, as well as eager to continue.
" Puta madre me all you want, chuju! "
Too reckless, he didn't notice when his bandana got pulled over his eyes. " Ej!–"
Surely they looked ridiculous from the camera footage.. Two grown men, awaiting to be considered gods of Quesadilla, playing like little kids.
The scientist had no fear about the rustling papers getting awfully damaged during this playfight, since they were copied beforehand (an awful amount of times) for safety manners. He also held these manners close to the object, he didn't want to ruin such a sacred thing.
In the heat of the moment, small footsteps could have been heard approaching from outside the room. Soon enough a head of an egg peeped out from the corner. Of course who would it have been if not Nacho.
Their bodies stiffened once they noticed the small creature. Nacho was unsure if it was acceptable to enter, almost in consternation. That scene was so out of character for his dad.
" Hehey Nacho! "
Multi akwardly broke away from the touch pushed the other away. He waved to Nacho, suggesting to come in, while discreetly and intentionally shoving the feather in the front pocket of his lab coat.
Quackity noticed that but brushed it off and put on a happy face.
" Hey little one! "
Nacho took a few steps forward, enough to be in the middle of the room but also enough space to have an opportunity to run out anytime.
" What is he doing to you dada ?????????"
Excessive use of quotation marks.. okay, Nacho was in fact flabbergasted.
" Oh, it's nothing Nacho, Uncle Quackity was just fixing my hair. "
Its' voice still concerned, Its' head looking down at the floor. " Why are you cheating on mama ???????? "
Chaos errupted not even when the chat bubble of Nacho's loaded fully. Both of them tried to outscream eachother with " NO NO NO NOT LIKE THAT NACHO NOT LIKE THAT! "
Once it calmed down, the scientist breathed out a laugh and rubbed Nacho's little head. " Nacho, why don't you go watch some music videos on the TV huh? Could you come back in a few minutes? "
" Are you gonna be bald when I come back? "
They cackled before denying, or at least Multi denied that question. Quackity could have some higher intentions behind his back perhaps for a revenge...
Nacho did a backflip he does in every possible interaction and left their sight, hopping happily that he can stay up late.
Multi felt every emotion drain out of him in an instance, glanced at Quackity and said:
" Now it got me thinking that Nacho needs a wig. "
Multi cursed himself while resting in his bed and holding up the golden feather over his head. He tried to throw it like any other object, but due to the laws of physics, it ironically flew back right at his face. His face boiled to the point he thought it was a fever. Why was he feeling like this?
Quackity did a perfect job, they now have a stronger bond, Nacho was put to bed, what else was he stressing about?
Too much dopamine, level of cortisol over the top. He felt weak, vulnerable and he couldn't get the other boy out of his mind in this peak of the night.
It was frustrating. He regretted every life choice, especially that playfight. There was this sort of adrenaline rush he had never experienced before, it was safe, it wasn't anything like fighting with other organizations. It kept him hooked until the last second.
He looked down at his palm, he could have sworn the feather shone brighter in the dim lights. It was probable that it got infected by uranium since Quackity was spending much more time in the reactor now. Regular decontamination wasn't his thing.
The scientist put the feather on the bedside table and closed his eyes after eyeing every detail. He brought his fingers to feel the three dreadlocks on his fingertips as the last thing before dozing off.
Maybe he should become a regular client at Quackitys'.