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Battat paces the floor outside of Tenna’s office.
“Fuck. Fuck. We’re so fucked. He’s gonna kill us, he’s really gonna kill us–”
“Boss, youse gotta calm down. Maybe he’s just callin’ da three of us in for some otha reason? An’ he really ain’t our boss anymore, so he can’t do anythin’ too bad. Dat little prince would get awfully upset at ‘im.” Jongler puts a gloved hand on Battat’s shoulder, trying their best to calm the frantic Pippins down.
Pluey stands next to Jongler, cat ears pressed against his head in worry.
“(;﹏;)”
Jongler sighs with concern and softly says, “C’mon, not youse too, Plues. It’s gonna be alright, I promise. If Mr. Tenna starts any funny business, I’s protect youse two.”
Battat just about jumps out of his skin with those words. “Jon! No, Tenna would step on you like a bug! Imagine how mad he’s going to be when we tell him, he’s gonna get so big he’ll shoot through the damn roof. It’s over, we’re through.” He puts his head in his hands and slumps against the wall.
The TV Time building in Castle Town is a nice enough place. The three of them have been staying in the new Mike Room over the past few weeks, trying to avoid Tenna and the rest of the other TV World Darkners. After the incident with the Knight, Tenna had been out of commission for quite some time, staying in his room and recovering from the disastrous injuries. It felt like the Dark World that was sealed yesterday to the three of them.
Battat remembers the desperation in Tenna’s voice, his body language, how much he wanted to make the Lightners happy by any means necessary, even if that meant trapping them in gacha balls and making them tell him how much they loved TV.
Behind the scenes, it had been a complete shitshow. With everyone effectively fired (including the three of them), they could only watch as the Doom Board events unfolded. Pluey had the quick thinking to step in and change a few of the quizzes so that all of the answers would be right, but besides that, they could only watch in horror as everything came apart at the seams.
As Mike, Battat was the one who was guarding Toriel, keeping her safe and out of the way, sleeping peacefully. Tenna hadn’t told any of them the details of the…deal he’d made with someone, but they knew that with the recent unplugging of the TV, Tenna was absolutely desperate. It was as if he could see the end, like an old dog being fed a piece of chocolate before being sent to the vet one last time. He thought that would be his last chance to put on a showstopping performance. His fear of becoming obsolete had finally come to pass.
But then, he didn’t die.
The three of them witnessed it from the control room. How his arms sparked, and his legs gave out as he slumped over into the snow. They were sure he’d died, but despite it all, they ran out into the bitter cold as Kris and Susie chased after the Knight. They were the first at the scene, as well as Elnina and Lanino, trying their best to put him back together. The other Pippins, Zappers, and Shadowguys sheepishly started to help once they knew there was a chance that he was going to be alright. Even with all their contracts ripped up, they still couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
A few had wondered where Mike was, but they were smart enough to keep their mouths shut and focus on getting Tenna out of the fluffy snow seeping into his vents. The little prince, Ralsei, was doing everything in his power to heal Tenna as quickly as he could, muttering that there had to be another way and how sorry he was for everything. Like it was his fault.
This to say, it was a chaotic scene. And in the aftermath, they were able to slip away. Once they knew Tenna was safe and recovering, they hunkered down in the new Mike Room, trying to figure out what their roles were now. It was the first time in years that the three of them had been free to do whatever they wanted, and with so much freedom came so many choices. Jongler and Pluey spent the majority of the time helping the others build the new TV building, but Battat felt helpless. In some ways, being Mike had become his purpose, his way of having power in a situation where he wouldn’t have had much otherwise.
Even within their groups, the three of them were outcasts.
Battat, besides his obvious greenness and shorter stature as opposed to most Pippins, was also of a different temperament from the rest of the group. If a Pippins could, they’d spend all day gambling and getting up to whatever mischief their grubby little hands could cause. He was the kind to step in and corral them all, telling them where to go and what jobs needed to be done. They’d call him a goody two-shoes, Tenna’s dog, his personal bootlicker. It’s not that he wanted to be known by those descriptors, but if no one else was going to do the work, he had to step up for the rest. He became Mike for them, to make sure the citizens of TV World weren’t just fodder for Tenna’s anger, not because of any undying loyalty to Tenna.
(Maybe a little pity too, if he’s being completely honest. The guy had his moments.)
Battat, Pluey, and Jongler had only arrived in the TV World after some great unspoken calamity between Tenna and a certain someone whose name wasn’t uttered. They knew nothing of the real Mike, who apparently ran the show here before they did. Maybe Mike was the certain someone Tenna had been in cahoots with? No one ever gave him a straight answer. Elnina and Lanino would only occasionally mutter about a little mailman from time to time.
Jongler was in a similar boat to Battat. None of the other Zappers cared for them that much. Zapper culture was essentially a kratocracy, a hierarchy of the strongest Zappers from the weakest, and Jongler stood out. They were bigger than the average Zapper, much bigger, a fact that should’ve been on their side, but they were meek and quiet, wanting to avoid confrontation if they could. Battat and Pluey learned a bit after they met them that their volume up button didn’t work, keeping them at a hushed tone. Battat is sure that even if their volume button worked correctly, they’d still speak gently and carry themselves with a certain kind of softness not usually seen in Zappers.
They let the Pippins play with they should’ve been working, and constantly got belittled by the more aggressive Zappers. They found out about Battat’s Mike ruse first, asking sweetly if they could help take a small amount of the burden off his shoulders. Battat didn’t know that would entail Jongler dressing in a little cowboy costume and helping him out in such a hands-on way. Battat had been convinced that Tenna would find out immediately, but he took to “Cowboy Mike” like a house on fire. He even understood in his own special way that when Mike was wearing the cowboy hat, to change the way he referred to them. He was smart enough to notice that, but not enough to…?
Whatever.
Pluey was the last one to join the group. Battat and Jongler had been buddies for a while at that point, making their own duo while pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes. They weren’t the oddest couple in the Dark World; there was another Pippins and Zapper who were always together, but there was something that caught Pluey about their relationship in particular. Pluey saw how they were different too, and Angel knows how much of a reject Pluey felt among his peers.
Shadowguys were supposed to be loud. With their saxophones and trumpets, their honks and croons sounded like a horrible racket to Pluey instead of music. Maybe they just had more sensitive ears than the rest of the Shadowguys, and it didn’t help that they didn’t ever let out a single note of their own. He was silent in a group that demanded noise. Most of the other Shadowguys ignored him because of it, asking him questions and letting out staccato giggles when he’d shrink into his chair and shake his head side to side, not uttering a single sound. Maybe that’s why he was drawn to the shy Zapper and their little neurotic Pippins friend. They seemed a lot like him.
So one day, they followed the two of them back to a room tucked away from the rest of the TV World, watching as Mike punched a code into a keypad and let the Zapper in. He heard them talking about a shift change and was curious what it was about.
When they snuck in and saw Battat half changed out of the Mike suit, and Jongler putting on their blazer, they knew they’d wandered into something exciting.
Battat had sworn them to secrecy, telling them that he and Jongler had just been…filling in for the other guy, a fella named Mike that Battat wasn’t quite sure existed or not. Pluey had noticed how sometimes Mike was a small guy, and sometimes Mike was tall, but didn’t think all that much about it until then.
He then proceeded to take out a notepad and write with glee:
Could Mike also be a kitty? :3
Battat and Jongler had frozen before the Zapper started to laugh, and Battat went on a spiel about how they were already tempting fate and how Tenna would lose it if he ever figured out the ruse and—
…And they needed some help. Even with the two of them, the Mike shifts could be grueling on top of their regular jobs around the studio. Jongler had brought up a good point about how if Tenna hadn’t figured it out already, adding one more wasn’t going to be the end of the world. Soon after that, Pluey had been presented (by Battat with a bright lime green flush on his face) with a cat costume right out of their dreams. Just as they’d predicted, Tenna didn’t notice anything, instead loving when Mike was in “Cat Mode” as he called it. Tenna had always had a soft spot for cats, so it worked out for everyone. Pluey got to be a kitty, Tenna got to pet a kitty, and Battat and Jongler could have a breather.
That’s how it went. That’s how it went for years.
The three of them were a well-oiled machine of deception. They all lived in the Mike Room together, leaving their own kin to find a home with each other. They weren’t asked by their brethren why they started to hang around one another, the unspoken reason most likely being something along the lines of “freaks flocking with freaks”, and they were happy in each other's company. Even if Battat pretended not to be.
And so maybe that’s why they were all worried about what was happening now.
This multiple years long ruse had so many moving parts, something they all thought was left in TV World. They’d heard some rumors among the Darkners from their world that Mike (as well as Ramb) hadn’t made the cut after the fountain was sealed. No one mourned either of them. No one remembered they ever existed.
Well, at least that’s what they thought.
In the present, Battat hisses through his gritted teeth, “Why would he be calling us into his office?! We didn’t even work in the same department! For all intents and purposes, we don’t even know each other. He has to know he just has to know! He’s gonna kill us!”
Pluey wipes at their cheek, right under where their eyes would be if they had them.
“(つ﹏<。)”
Jongler lets out a noise of distress and rushes over to Pluey, wrapping him in a hug. “Awww, c’mon Batts, youse makin’ Plu cry. Youse usin’ dat conspiracy brain o’ yours for trouble. Mr. Tenna wouldn’t do’s anythi–”
From behind the door, Tenna’s voice calls out.
“Would the three of you come in?”
They all freeze, hoping Tenna hasn’t heard the last few minutes of anxious squabbling before Jongler opens the door and lets the other two in.
Tenna’s office in the TV Time building is much smaller than the grand dressing room he’d have meetings in back in their Dark World. It somehow makes the whole situation feel a bit claustrophobic, like they’re stuck in front of someone who could destroy them with a slap of his hand.
The room is filled with vintage memorabilia from TV Time, plushies, and posters line the shelves and walls. Battat holds back thoughts like, what a fucking narcissist, in between his normal thoughts like, fuck oh fuck he knows we’re so screwed he’s gonna rip us apart.
Pluey and Jongler don’t seem to be faring any better, but at least they have much greater poker faces than him. He’s known the two of them long enough to spot their tells. The way Jongler’s infrared light dulls, and they slightly slouch their backs to make themselves smaller. How Pluey fumbles his hands into the pockets of his suit, trying to keep his head low. Battat can tell that both of their eyelines are focused on the ground. They can get away with it as opposed to him, who has to look right into Tenna’s screen and try not to start heaving from the stress.
Tenna cocks his head in curiosity before his expression softens into a gentle smile (bad, bad very bad, Battat thinks), and he gestures to the chairs in front of the desk he’s sitting at.
“Oh, please sit down, you three! Goodness, there’s no need to look like you’re watching a horror movie marathon! Come on, it’s alright.”
They all glanced at one another before sitting down in Tenna’s extremely plush seats, sinking into the cushions instantly.
None of them says a word, waiting for the moment Tenna drops the bomb of what he knows. Over the years, they’ve all at one point or another (some more than others) theorized about how much Tenna understands about the Mike Situation. Obviously, Battat thought about it much, much more than the other two, but it’s not as if Pluey and Jongler hadn’t been curious about the matter. They all had their own ideas. Jongler thought maybe Tenna just had bad vision, Pluey had brought up faceblindness at one point, and Battat had a corkboard overflowing with about a dozen propositions. None of it prepared them for this.
Tenna starts, “Well, I assume the three of you know why you’re here.”
Battat lets out an audible gulp.
Pluey shakes his head.
Jongler looks about ready to curl into a ball and hide.
In the end, Jongler is the one to speak up, trying to keep the stutter out of their voice as they reply, “No, Mr. Tenna. We’s ain’t sure w-why we’s called in ‘ere. Sorry, Boss.”
Battat shudders, trying to keep himself together and not just bolt out of the office out of fear. This is the scariest kind of Tenna, the one who is all smiles and sweet phrases, because at least when he’s mad, everyone can tell and stay the hell out of his way. This hidden kind of anger, the kind that masks something way worse is terrifying to him.
There’s a warm chuckle from the television Darkner as he leans down and…
Boops Pluey on the nose.
“(☉_☉)”
Jongler and Battat both gasp with a mix of shock and fear.
“Oh come on, I’m not your boss anymore!” Tenna puts his hands together before continuing. “Now that the fountain’s been sealed for a bit now, and everyone’s settled in, I haven’t seen the three of you around as much. I know I was healing from…everything that happened, but you three are faces I couldn’t help but notice were missing!”
Missing, like how another Darkner was mysteriously missing.
Battat answers this time. “We’ve been around, Sir. Just um, helping put this building together, guiding the other Pippins and such. Making sure they don’t start an underground gambling ring again.”
Tenna giggles and shakes his head. “Those little scamps are such a riot, aren’t they?”
That’s the part that sends Battat into a fucking spiral. He knows Tenna can’t stand the Pippins. He always ignored them or told the Zappers to be physical with them if they needed to. Hell, he’d heard rumors about a few particularly devious Pippins who had vanished over the years. Tenna would never affectionately coo out such silly words for them. He’s sure Tenna would have kicked them out of his Dark World if he had the chance, but he desperately needed grunt work done, and when guided the right way, the Pippins could sometimes deliver good results. Good, never great. If anything, it was mediocre, at least in Battat’s mind.
“S-sure, totally,” Battat feels like he’s going to be sick. “Um, what did you want to…talk with us about?”
Tenna straightens up and plays with a TV Time themed pen with his face on the end as he grins.
“Yes! As of recently, I’ve…” Tenna looks off to the side, a color bar blush painting his screen, "reconnected with someone from my past, and he’s made me realize plenty of things about my time as boss of TV World that’s got me thinking.”
There’s something to be said about how, when Tenna thinks, half the time, bad things happen. The three of them know this after so many years of being at his beck and call. And “reconnected?” What does that mean?
Oh, Angel, is the ACTUAL MIKE somehow here?! Is that the “he” Tenna is talking about?
Tenna shrinks a foot or so upon seeing the fearful expressions still covering their faces. “I want to turn over a new leaf, and I owe you three a long overdue apology. I didn’t realize how much I’d been unkind towards interemployee relationships. I suppose I was still so upset about what had happened to me, I took it out on anyone I saw who was happy with their partners. Besides Elnina and Lanino, of course.” Tenna rubs the back of his neck, his antenna drooping as he finally adds, “I’m so sorry for making the three of you feel unsafe to show affection towards each other in TV World. You don’t have to hide anymore.”
…
what.
Battat can’t help but repeat his inner thought in a blurted out, “WHAT?!”
Jongler looks between the two others at their side, infrared light burning bright as they turn to Battat.
“Oh! Uh, wowie, I can’t believe Mr. Tenna found out ‘bout ours big secret, right fellas?”
Jongler elbows Battat and Pluey, letting out nervous laughter as they do so.
Pluey understands instantaneously, nodding before putting their hand to where their lips would be and blowing a kiss to Jongler and Battat.
“★⌒ヽ( ͡° ε ͡°)♥”
Battat stares at the two of them, trying to figure out what the FUCK has been happening under his nose. Were Pluey and Jongler seeing each other without his knowing?! The three of them spend so much time together, when would they have been able to start something, and why does that make him feel like such a piece of shit?? Of course he wants his friends to be happy, and if they found happiness in one another, then what’s up with the weird icy hot feeling in his stomach? Pluey made them spaghetti earlier so it’s not that he’s hungry and–
Jongler and Pluey are staring at him. Waiting. For something.
Finally, he puts the pieces together.
Ah.
Okay. That makes more sense.
He likes to think that being Mike has given him the ability to lie exceptionally well, and he’ll have to use his best performance here to really put on a show for Tenna. Get him off their trail entirely.
“HAHAHA!! YEP! THAT’S DEFINITELY WHAT’S GOING ON! NOTHING ELSE!”
That could’ve gone better.
Tenna reels back, a wobbly grimace on his face. The other two next to him seemingly are holding their breaths.
“You three are just Adorable! There’s no need to be stressed now, it’s allll out in the open!” He interlaces his fingers and brings them up to the side of his face, turning his screen into it. A flower blooms at his nose, much to the surprise of the three of them. He’s earnestly glad about this…reveal?
Jongler leans forward a bit in the chair, their tone taking on an inquisitive nature. A bead of sweat on their forehead. “Ha, yeah, Mr. Tenna. J-Jus’ curious, how’d youse…find out?”
With a jokingly dismissive wave, Tenna smiled and stated, “I noticed how you three would sneak away, always sitting with each other at lunch, talking all the time. You know, those little FOND looks you throw at one another. I like to think I’m a pretty observant TV after all! Of course I’d see past the friendly facade.”
Battat wanted to laugh. He wanted to burst out and point while losing his damn mind. Observant his ass. If Tenna were, in any fucking universe, even a tiny, teensy-weensy bit observant, this whole charade would’ve been over before it even began. One look at Battat in his Motormouth Mike costume and he would’ve been kicked to the curb. But that didn’t happen, Tenna acted as if he’d always been there, and when Jongler and Pluey joined, there were maybe only one or two questions before he completely bought it. Of course, it made total sense that some days Mike was taller and spoke in a quieter voice, and some other days Mike didn’t talk at all and instead purred and sat in Tenna’s lap. Super normal. Great stuff.
And look, Battat can understand the first two “observations” Tenna brought up. Of course they’re going to have to sneak around with each other; three misfits like them would stand out if they were always together. People might start really asking questions about why one of them disappears every couple of hours. The second one makes sense too, when they used to eat and drink at the bar, they would enjoy one another’s company without the overwhelming pressure to keep up the trick after hours (at least when Mike wasn’t called on for some random bullshit, which would happen semi-regularly).
But the last one? Well, it- he looks at the two of them, sure, he looks at them both a lot. He has to. And also, he’s the only one who actually has eyes?? So yeah, sometimes there might be a modicum of what could maybe, perhaps, be called fondness. It would be weird if, after so many years of living together if he wasn’t even a little glad to see Pluey and Jongler after a long day, even if most of the time he pretends not to.
When Jongler sits quietly after a shift, preparing him some sleepytime tea after a whole day of consuming a criminal amount of coffee to keep going. Or when Pluey curls up next to him, and he pets them behind the ears while he goes over a script or whatever dumb made-up document Tenna wanted him to annotate.
Late at night, when he’s still in front of the corkboard, basically falling asleep on his feet, the two of them will try to coax him into bed, and if he refuses, Jongler comes out an hour later to gingerly pick him up and put him under the covers. There have been more than a few times he’s pretended to be sleeping so he could be lifted up in their arms. It’s more comforting than he’d want to admit. He’ll lie between the two of them, with Pluey purring into one side, nuzzling him, and on his other, Jongler holding him warmly. Despite his propensity for being a light sleeper, he won’t wake up the entire night.
So yeah, if he’s got a fond look on his face every once in a blue moon, then what? Is that a criminal offense or something? Sue him if it is.
Battat presses his back into the chair’s cushion, trying to figure out why he feels so funny about this. He knows his face is probably emerald green at this point, both from the adrenaline of thinking they were all about to be found out, and from feeling more than a bit flustered. Jongler and Pluey appear a bit more put together, but he knows what embarrassment looks like on their faces at this point. Pluey tips his hat over where his eyeline would be, making biscuits on his thighs with his hands, and Jongler’s infrared light glows brilliantly.
Tenna claps his hands together with a resounding noise, making the three jump out of their thoughts.
“Well, with that taken care of, I hope to see the three of you around more often! I’ve heard the Love Dojo could use a group of three. I hope this is all water under the bridge, okay, fellas? No hard feelings?”
They all shake their heads.
“Nope! Youse too kind, Mr. Tenna. Maybes we’ll check outs dat Love Dojo, right sweeties?” Jongler tacks on the pet name at the end like it’s their first time ever saying it. Realistically, it probably is. The main names they call Battat are “Boss” or “Batts” if they’re particularly frustrated with his antics, and Pluey gets “Kitty” for the most part, or “Plues” if something is important.
Battat is sure Jongler has a soft spot for Pluey, they never get mad at him, but also, Pluey doesn’t do much to Jongler to gain their ire. There have been a few times where Pluey has been teasing Battat too much while he’s trying to work, and he’ll drill into them, yammering on about how this is Important Tenna Work, and if it’s not done, then they’re all screwed. He’ll go on and on, and if he’s especially mad, he might have even called him an idiot and told him to fuck off somewhere else. Those are the times that Jongler would step in, holding a nervous Pluey on the verge of tears and telling him to apologize.
Despite their gentle nature, Jongler can be intimidating when they want to, but at his angriest, Battat becomes something like a snarling animal, hissing out curses and barking at the two of them to leave him alone. Those are the times he’d get into it with Jongler, and more than once, he’s hit their mute button in the middle of an argument, instantly turning up the heat by 80%.
The few times he’s done that, it’s usually couch treatment for a day or two and a nasty cold shoulder until he nervously approaches the two in bed during the night and cautiously tells them he regrets what happened. He’s always let back in, even if he knows he doesn’t deserve it.
Next to him, Pluey gives Tenna a thumbs up.
“(･ω･)b”
Tenna finally looks at Battat, and he realizes that he’s got to say something too.
He feels like his mouth has gone completely dry, and he basically has to choke out the words. “Yep! Totally my darling Jongler and lovely Pluey. Me and my beautiful partners whom I am in love with will definitely check that out! Thank you for being so understanding, Mr. Tenna.”
That was better, but still not great.
Tenna doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary, as usual.
He stands up, wrapping the three of them in a big hug. “Yay! Oh, I just love LOVE!” Tenna puts them all down, and sighs sweetly. “And by the way, tell me if you see Mike around, alright? He’s been M.I.A recently, and I could really use his help!”
Battat’s eye twitches.
“Of course, Mr. Tenna.”
Jongler opens the door, and the three leave in a daze.
Once the door is closed, Pluey gazes at the other two and presses a hand to their forehead.
“(☉_ ☉)”
“Yeahs, I get dat, Plues. Lets get outta ‘ere.” Jongler slithers along the floor at a quicker pace than they usually do as they try to get back to the safety of the Mike Room as soon as possible.
Battat doesn’t even have anything he thinks he could add to this. For once, Motormouth Mike has absolutely nothing to say. He can feel the adrenaline leaving his system, how his arms start to shake, and a feeling of lightheadedness falls over him. He was so convinced they were screwed beyond belief, that Tenna had finally put the two-piece puzzle together, or (more realistically) someone had spilled the beans to him.
He knows most of the TV World inhabitants were just as in the dark about the Mike situation as Tenna was, with the only true exceptions being Ramb and the Weather Duo. With the former seemingly gone, and the latter having a vested interest in keeping Tenna content above all else, he doesn’t see either party saying anything, even after the fountain was sealed. In Battat’s mind, it would have to be either Actual Mike or whoever Tenna was over the moon for. He can’t remember a time in all of his years in TV World that he ever saw Tenna as happy as he was in there. He was completely lovestruck.
Battat is pretty sure he’s never put the code into the keypad as quickly as he’s doing right now. His fingers fly across the buttons, and the second the door opens, he rushes in with the other two right behind him.
Once he’s certain it’s shut, he turns to Jongler and Pluey, holding his head and screaming.
“WHAT THE FUCK. What, in- what world does-? I CAN’T believe we got away with that. Good thinking Jon, you too, Pluey. Angel in Heaven, I really thought it was over.” He lets out a manic little laugh, like he can’t believe they got away with the lie of the century.
Battat feels like he’s somehow rolled a six. His lucky day. Another lie on top of the web they’ve already delicately constructed together. And it’s even better that it’s such a ridiculous one, too.
In between giggles, Battat gets out, “I mean, in what world does he think we’re together?! What a stupid idea!”
Jongler rubs the back of their neck with their boxing glove, and Pluey fiddles with his hands. They clearly both have something on their minds.
“I means, it ain’t dat outta da question, Boss. We’s do live in dis room togetha after all.” They sit down on the small couch in the main room, toying with the bandana they wear even out of costume. The other Zappers think it’s strange, but they don’t seem to mind all that much. Pluey sits down next to them and leans their head against their side, almost trying to hide their face.
He tsks and crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, obviously that’s because we’re all Mike. We’ve got to live here together. It would’ve been impossible back in TV World to sleep in the assigned dorms and sneak out during the night.”
“And nows?” Jongler lowers their head, cocking it to the side.
“Now Tenna is asking about Mike again, so it makes sense. And it would be weird if I went to live with the other Pippins again at this point. I’d rather roll ones for the next month than do that. I know you two don’t want to go back either.”
It’s definitely not because he’s grown accustomed to having them both around. That would be silly.
Pluey meekly gazes at Battat before mimicking a sleeping motion. A question is clear in the movement.
“(ᴗ˳ᴗ) Zzz”
Battat sputters over his words at first, feeling his face warm again. “We sleep in the same bed because there’s not enough room in here for three separate ones! It’s ergonomic!”
They both eye him incredulously. They all know there’s more than enough room for three twin-sized beds, even if it would mean Jongler having to curl up, but they slept like that anyway. When Battat walked into the Mike Room for the first time in TV World, he noticed the king bed tucked away in a small, separate area off to the side and thought nothing of it. When Jongler showed up, at first, they took turns with one sleeping on the couch and the other on the bed until it just became easier to be together, especially after a rough shift when Battat needed comfort. By the time Pluey was part of the picture, they had no qualms about cuddling up to the other two. Even requesting it sometimes with grabby hands and blinking his kitty eyes if he was still in his costume.
Battat remembers the days before the Mike Room, when he had to bunk with the other Pippins. It was basically torture. All those other little bastards seemingly never slept, constantly tittering to each other in the middle of the night, yapping about whatever bullshit had gone down that day, stupid gossip and the like. Playing pranks on one another constantly, or worse, the noise of dice heads rolling and shrill whines. Those were the nights he’d just sleep in the Green Room.
He knew Jongler and Pluey had similar stories. A dorm full of Shadowguys honking at each other and instigating saxophone duels where they’d play music at one another for hours. Zappers glowing in the dark, challenging one another to fist fights. It took the three of them a while to get used to the lull of the Mike Room. No loud noises besides Battat’s occasional eureka moments in the early morning. Sometimes, it felt like they were living in their own little world, away from the rest of the Dark World.
On those incredibly rare days that Tenna wouldn’t need Mike, and none of them worked their normal jobs, it was the closest thing to a domestic life the three of them would ever know. These last few weeks have been like that all the time. Everything felt go, go, go for so long that having a moment to breathe like this has been a blessing. A chance to reflect.
Jongler will read on the couch while Pluey plays with a ball of yarn, still in costume, and Battat will either be working on the corkboard or ask Jongler what they’re reading about. Usually, it’s the wild west or, on a rare occasion, some bodice ripper that makes Battat go green in the face at the description. They eat their meals together, chatting about some strange Darkner, or a new item at the Color Cafe, then retire to bed at the end of the day.
It’s a life.
It’s the life he shares with the two of them.
Then, in a hushed tone he’s never heard from them before, Jongler looks down at the ground as they say, “I...I’s let youse touch my buttons, Batts.”
…huh?
Battat pauses for a moment, completely stunned. Quickly, he gathers himself and waves his hands around, furrowing his brow in shock and embarrassment.
“WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?”
Oh Angel, has he been having weird Zapper sex with Jongler this entire time?? Without knowing??
He stares at Pluey. “DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?”
Pluey shrugs half-heartedly, clear to Battat that they aren’t quite sure what it means either, but desperate for the yelling to stop.
“(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞”
Okay. He’s upsetting Plues. Even with everything he’s feeling right now, he doesn’t mean to make them afraid. He knows how much they hate shouting. He’s been trying to get better about that lately.
Taking in a long breath, Battat presses a hand to his temple and massages one of his pips. “Jon. Jon, what does touching buttons mean to a Zapper? Have Pluey and I been doing something… untoward to you?”
There’s genuine worry in Battat’s voice. The thought of having been doing something to Jongler that they didn’t want scares him deeply. He’s not sure he’d be able to forgive himself.
The light on top of Jongler’s head glows so vibrantly that he has to look away. He can tell Jongler is trying to take up as little space on the couch as possible, and Pluey puts a hand over Jongler’s glove, letting a shy look come across their dark features.
“(〃．.〃)”
There’s been plenty of late nights, when they’re all half asleep in bed and feeling awfully chummy, where cuddling has become a part of the routine. Pluey will butt his head into Battat’s hand, asking for pets, and he’ll relent, feeling fuzzy darkness over his fingers as he puts a hand in Pluey’s hair. He’ll watch as Jongler elicits a purr out of their sleepy Shadowguy, letting out a low chuckle in the lamplight. Pluey’s ears his flick, and occasionally, he does feel a sandpaper lick on the side of his face, but he chalks that all up to regular weird Shadowguy stuff. Even if he’s never seen another one do anything like what Pluey does.
And, sometimes, he’ll press Jongler’s buttons. Avoiding the mute option, of course.
He remembers lying in bed with the other two one night, drowsy and only really using a quarter of his brain, when he got curious about the bright red buttons adorning the Zapper’s chest. He’d always thought they were interesting, but never had much of a reason to ask about them in the year or so they’d all been working together. As Jongler was a remote, he just assumed they worked the same as in the Light World.
He’d reached out before hesitating, thinking better than to just get his grubby little hands all over them, before they’d whispered, shyly, “Youse can touch. I’s trust ya.”
He liked the tactical aspect of it, of pressing down and hearing a rush of air leave the Zapper. A shudder through their whole body–
And when he thinks of it like that, he should’ve known from the first fucking time he did it that there was obviously another element to the whole thing. Fuck.
“I-it ain’t anythin’ bad like dat. Jus’ sensitive. A Zapper's gotta trust someones a whole bunch ta let dem do dat. Like touchin’ Plues behind the ears.”
Battat gawks at Pluey as they try their best to hide underneath their hat.
“(つ﹏⊂)”
He can only blink.
“This is fucking crazy. I can’t believe this. So what, I’m just the freak that’s been pressing your buttons a-and rubbing you behind the ears and getting you two riled up? You have no id–”
Jongler interrupts with their own question.
“Den what’s up with us rollin’ your head? Shakin’ you around? I’s knows enough ‘bout Pippins ta know dat feels good for youse. Dat whole weird phrase youse Pippins say ‘about it. Rock me, thrill me, shock ands thrill me? C’mon Batts.”
Oh Angel. Anything but bringing up the head shaking.
“Ah, t-that’s stress relief! Normal things Pippins do all the time! It’s nothing uncouth!”
It’s not a lie per se, but it’s also not the entire truth.
The Pippins in TV World shook each other all the time because they’re little fucking perverts. It’s not inherently sexual; it just gives them a buzz, like having battery acid. And sure, it also depends on the number it lands on, too, and Battat had always had terrible luck when it came to rolling high. He has the vague feeling that he might be loaded, but it’s only a theory. Anything below a three, and he feels nauseous, and he’s prone to rolling ones most of the time, leaving him bed bound and queasy for the rest of the day. He’d stopped letting the other Pippins shake him a long time ago. It just didn’t feel all that good to him.
That was, until Jongler and Pluey entered the equation.
They’d both approached him one day and just asked if they could. Out of the blue.
At first, he’d been a bit hesitant, terribly worried that he was going to roll a one and be sick during his Mike shift, so he told them to wait until after work. He spent the entire day nervous. It had been so long since anyone had shaken him, and he wasn’t looking forward to the eventual queasiness that would befall him when they rolled a low number for him.
When the moment did come that night, and Jongler picked him up and spun his head around, he rolled a six. His first six.
A rush of ecstasy ran through his body. It felt like the big city firework shows that Tenna always had on during New Year's. He giggled and kicked his feet, asking for more. It was wonderful, done with so much more care than those other puny Pippins who just did it to get a kick out of seeing him keel over. He let Jongler spin him until his stomach hurt, not from sickness, but from laughing too much. Afterwards, Pluey tucked him into bed, giving him a small kiss on the forehead.
Now, whenever he’s had a particularly bad day, one of them will shake his head until he feels better. It’s as easy as that. And, if he happens to feel a little…funny afterwards, well, he doesn’t mention it to either of them. The one bad thing about basically living on top of each other as they do, is that there’s not much alone time.
But!! It’s not weird. If a friend wants to shake another friend until he sees stars, that’s just fine. They’re the only two people who can truly make him roll sixes; that doesn’t just happen for any Darkner. He’ll take it where he can get it.
“(ᇂ_Jᇂ )”
Battat has never seen a more incredulous look on Pluey’s face than the one he’s wearing right now. It’s as if he told them that the world is made of pudding, and he doesn’t care about the Mike mystery anymore. It almost makes him mad at the fact that they believe him so little. Even if he does know that he’s fibbing, just a tiny bit, it upsets him.
Jongler is even less convinced.
“I’s have a feelin’ dat ain’t true, Batts.” Their voice was steadier than it was only a moment ago, as if they know they'd made a good point. Pluey nodded along, agreeing with the Zapper. It didn’t feel like an interrogation though, more a hushed kind of thing, as if coming to some conclusion they hadn’t considered before.
Suddenly, Battat felt tired. Everything that had occurred the past hour, hell, the past few weeks, maybe years, felt like they caught up to him all at once.
It feels as though he’s been stuck in a room, trapped forever, and he turns around to realize a door has always been open. There was always an escape, and he was just too cowardly and tunnel-visioned to ever see it.
He lets out a wheeze of a sardonic laugh as he sits down between the other two.
“So what, we’re just three little freaks then, tiptoeing around one another? Feeling each other up to get our jollies? For years? And I thought Tenna was clueless…”
Angel. How blind he’d been.
The light on Jongler’s head grows a tad dimmer. “I think dats an unfair way ta look at it.”
Pluey gives Battat a small, meek look before reaching out his hand, waiting for the other to take it.
“(´;︵;`)”
With a small exhale, Battat takes the hand, interlacing their fingers. It feels like pins and needles in a pleasant way. It's far from the first time they’ve held hands, but it feels different now.
With a short noncommittal noise, Battat asks, “Then how do you look at this?” He rubs his thumb over the back of Pluey’s hand. “What are we even doing here.”
He’s not just talking about the hand holding; he’s talking about all of it. The past handful of years of them being around each other, even when it wasn’t necessary. Days off that should’ve been spent alone in the Mike Room usually ended with him following around Jongler or Pluey during their Mike shift, just making conversation, pretending not to know one another. It felt like a funny game sometimes, on those few rare occasions when he’d forget what was on the line if Tenna found out.
Those nights at the bar after a draining week, leaning his head against one of them, laughing at some silly joke shared between the three while others looked on with contempt and maybe even a hint of jealousy. When the occasional fight occurred, he’d feel terrible until they all reconciled, feeling a hole in his stomach the entire time he was by himself. He used to like being by himself. Before, he was so comfortable, but maybe he was just used to the loneliness, maybe he never liked it in the first place. He told himself he did so it wouldn’t break his heart that he was all alone.
He recalls when it all first started, those moments when Tenna would say something ridiculous and the first thing he’d think was, I can’t wait to get back so I can tell the two of them. He’d come up with a joke he knew would make Pluey laugh, or see something he knew Jongler would like and make a mental note to bring it up to them. He realizes now that even then, he was already in too deep.
The thing was, they did the same for him. Jongler would let him know that Tenna had mentioned a tidbit about the before times during their shift and thought Battat could add something to the board. Pluey would curl up to him on the couch, and when he’d ask why, they’d take out their notepad and write down how they noticed he was dead on his feet. The idea of being thought of, being noticed, was still such a foreign concept to him. It was quite possibly the opposite of what his life revolved around.
Mike was the one everyone saw, the constant performer, the guy who always knew what Tenna wanted. People liked Mike, even if most did think of him as a kiss ass; they still didn’t roll their eyes or leave when he entered a room, as they did with the man inside the costume.
Battat was an almost universally ignored (if not fully disliked) member of a group that was already a nuisance in TV World. A social pariah through and through. Until Pluey and Jongler, he was under the impression it was going to be like that for the rest of his days, until he finally lost purpose or was tossed in the garbage by the Dreemurs. He was fine with his purpose being to serve Tenna, but he had a feeling that fell to the wayside a long, long time ago.
Jongler inches their glove toward Battat’s free hand.
“I think we’s doin’ da best we’s can.”
Battat knows they’re looking off into space, back in a memory. “Before da two of youse, I’s was miserable. Zappers…dey ain’t the nicest group when it comes ta folks like me. Dey was mean, real mean. I’s spent a lot of da time sad and alone. I’s had no ones.”
The forgotten Pippins puts his hand on top of the quiet Zapper’s glove. On his other side, a mute Shadowguy leans into his arm.
What a group they are.
Jongler then gazes down at the two of them, a sparkle in the white line where their eyes would be.
“And thens, one day, I’s got two someones. I’s think dat makes me da luckiest Zapper in da world. I’s undastand if youse don’t feel da same way, but I’s like bein’ ‘round both of youse more den anyones else. Youse two make me so happy.”
Battat swallows the lump in his throat as he slowly answers, “You two dummies make me happy too. More than happy. I…Angel, yeah. I feel the same way. Don’t know what that means yet, but we’ll figure it out, right?”
Next to him, Pluey sniffles and nervously puts up a dark hand, curling it into a gesture.
He rarely signs, choosing to be silent in all aspects, but right now, he puts down his ring and middle finger. Both Battat and Jongler immediately know what it means.
I love you.
“˚‧º·(˃̣̣̥∩˂̣̣̥)‧º·˚”
A part of Battat feels like he’s rolled a seven. Some unimaginable, unrealistic height he thought he’d never make it to. This much happiness isn’t allowed to Darkners like them. Darkners like them live their lives without much to look forward to. One out of a thousand identical copies. They fulfill their purposes and go day to day without even knowing what they’re missing. And then, eventually, they get thrown away or donated or forgotten and lose themselves. That’s how it was supposed to go. Darkners don’t usually fall in love unless they were made in a specific pair, love quite literally being the reason they exist. It’s a rarity if it happens organically.
To find something of their own, to create when they’re supposed to be the creations, to be an idea making an idea, it’s basically unheard of. Goes against nature, in a way.
But Angel above, they did it.
Battat can’t help but let out a single bark of laughter.
“I can’t believe Tenna was right.”
Pluey and Jongler lean into him, and if a fond look is clear in his gaze, well, at least it’s shared privately between the three of them.
—
A week later, they’re outside the Love Dojo. It was more fun than Battat thought it would be, all things considered. He’s still getting used to being together officially, holding hands and figuring out how to kiss when neither of his partners has lips, but the three of them make it work.
Elnina and Lanino cooed over them when they all walked in, seemingly completely entranced by the idea of three weirdos like them being in love. When Elnina asked how they met, they realized they had to have a made-up bullshit story for that too. Of course. Jongler ended up saying that they’d been friends during their time in TV World, and only after did they finally start going out. It’s not a full lie, but it toes the line. Battat and Pluey think it’s cute. So did the Weather Duo.
On their way out, as they walked back towards the TV Building and into their shared room, a strange creature popped out of a nearby alleyway, shocking them out of their stroll. It pointed a tiny finger at Battat accusatorily.
“H-HEY HEY!!! IT’S THE [[Impastas]]! Y0 U DAMN [Faker? I think you’re the]–” The thing grit its teeth, the permanent grin on its face looking somehow sharper.
Battat realized this was the thing that scared the shit out of Tenna back in TV World. Tenna had mentioned a rat to everyone when he first got here, telling folks to keep a lookout. He described it kind of like this. He has to think Tenna’s never seen a rat before, because this nasty little thing is unsightly, sure, but it’s certainly not a rat.
Jongler stands in front of the two of them, looking down at the small thing with anger.
“Look, little guy, I’s don’t like da way youse lookin’ at Batts. Lets just calm down–”
“N 0 !!! I [no money down] WHAT YOU [[R-rated movies online]]!!”
He can barely understand the creature, but his eyes widen as he puts the pieces together of what it’s trying to communicate. I know what you are.
He’s surprised, but maybe if he can say it to someone else, then it will help him internalize that this is real. That this is the wonderful, fortunate life that he’s living.
With a breath, he walks towards the puppet-like Darkner, patting Jongler on the arm as he brushes past them. “Yeah. The three of us are seeing one another. Romantically. I don’t know why that’s your business, you freak. Don’t need to yell it in the street.”
The doll opens its wooden jaw before closing it again.
“...WHAT ? THAT’S [[not your number?]] WHAT I’M S4YING. I D0N’T [[Quality care for $49.99]] ABOUT Y0UR [Trip to Portland] WITH [[Two for one]] BABES.”
With a hand to its chest, the thing states, “ANT T0LD mmM;M3 [[New information on your rental]] ABOUT A [specil] 0LD [[acquaintis]] oF MINE!! THEN I SAW YOU [[Three’s Company]] L3;>AVve FR0M THAT [[Me and Michael]] ROOM!!”
Ant? Who the hell calls Tenna by his first name? Not even Mike did that.
Battat furrows his brow before realizing who this person is.
“Motherfucker.”