The Heart of Pride Gala - Sleepy_Dormouse, TygerNoodle (2024)

Chapter 1: Invitation

Chapter Text

Sugar Plum smiled sweetly into the camera as she danced around it. The frilly pastel pink dress she wore billowed in the wind of a large fan that was just off-screen. The light blue ribbons that decorated her outfit bounced merrily with each ballerina twirl she took. Her hat tails danced with much joy causing the bells at the end of the tails to jingle like Christmas bells. Her glowing robotic eyes sparkled as her spinning came to a stop. She had the appearance of a magical girl straight from a shojo manga.

Her sweet sparkling smile held firm as she directed her attention to the camera. Beneath the studio lights the opal finish of her body simmered and glowed. Batting her eyes, she hummed a happy little tune. It was one of her famous songs and she knew every fan on the other side of the computer, tablet, and phone screen knew it by heart. Her long tail with the soft tuft at the end of it swayed to the tune. Wrinkling up her little snout, she giggled light-heartedly. She knew her fans loved it when she piled on the cute. Their adoration was what fueled her.

“Hello, my wonderful Fairies. I have the best of news,” Sugar Plum sang in her sweet feminine voice. Unlike most Robotic Fizzarollies, she had an original voice custom-made just for her. Instead of sounding like a mid-30-year-old imp man, she sounded like an angel, if that angel was a robot.

Currently, the stream she was hosting was one for her top-tier fans, her Faries.They were the ones that loved her the most and were always around and ready to join a stream of hers even if it was sudden and spur of the moment like today. The chat room was going wild with hundreds upon thousands of her fans praising her for her cuteness and talent.

“Today I finally got my invitation to the Heart of Pride Gala that will. It will be held in Pride in just a few weeks from now,” Sugar Plum cheered. She followed up her announcement with a cute little dance. “I’m just so excited.”

The chat went wild with messages such as:

“I knew you would be on the list, Sugar Plum.”

“You’re just too cute, Sugar Plum.”

“Take off your top, Sugar!”

Sugar Plum twirled once more, her long leg making her look even more elegant than the most put-together of ballerinas. “I have all of you to thank for this. If it weren’t for you, my lovely fans, I never would have been considered,” she sang.

Sugar Plum picked up one of her poor little dogs. It was one of those small black gnat-like dogs with six legs and large floppy years. The poor thing shivered in her arms, clearly terrified to be held by her. It wore a frilly collar that matched the skirt of Sugar Plum’s dress. She spun around the room with the poor creature in her arms singing the same song from before. It was clear the happy robot and the horrified dog were not on the same page about the performance they were putting on.

When Sugar Plum felt like she had had enough dancing she came to a sudden halt and tossed the dog aside. From off-screen the sound of the dog yelping as it made a hard landing could barely be heard. The fancy Robo Fizz didn’t so much as flinch at the dog’s cry. On her tiptoes, she danced her way back to the camera.

“I look forward to the party with utmost excitement. Thank you all so much for making a little robot’s dreams come true,” she said, batting her pretty eyes. “I have to go now but I will catch you all up on my attire for the Heart of Pride Gala at a later date. See you soon, my Fairies.”

Ghost hissed at his phone as the video ended. His golden snout wrinkled in disdain at what he had just seen. He hated Sugar Plum almost as much as he hated the color orange. He had been watching the video, pirated of course. Like Hell, he was going to pay to be a part of her fan club, but at the same time, he simply had to be on top of what was happening.

As much as he wanted to be shocked by the fact that Sugar Plum was invited to the Heart of Pride Gala, he wasn’t surprised. She had been invited to the gala since the year she was booted up. He himself had also gone to the exact same gala in the past. Back then he had been going by the name of Diamond and had lived a much more luxurious lifestyle than he was living now. The Heart of Pride Gala was a place where high-ranking demons, such as Overlords and Goetian Royalty, would invite their favorite actors, singers, and online personalities to mingle with. Ghost had once been one of the most famous Robotic Fizzarollies on social media.

Frustrated by what he had just seen, Ghost tumbled his way out of his loft and into the kitchen. His tail sparked loudly at its kink as he stomped his way to the table. He was in a foul mood and needed to complain to someone, anyone. His sights were set on poor Switchblade who was pulling a tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. Ghost stood beside the table with his transparent arms crossed and his broken tail sparking.

The sound of Ghost’s sparking tail caused Switchblade to start but the generic Robotic Fizzarolli didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. “I’m busy, Ghost,” he flatly said. He stood up straight and placed the hot cookie tray on the stovetop to cool.

“Aug! You’re always like this!” Ghost grumbled, giving his left foot a mighty stomp. “You never care about me ever!”

Switchblade kept his back to Ghost and sighed. He smoothed the back of his hands on the old ratty pink apron he wore. It was clear he wasn’t interested in hearing Ghost complain about trivial things like Goetian parties. Instead of reacting to Ghost further, he began to transfer the cookies from the hot pan onto a cooling rack.

Ghost huffed loudly and planted his butt hard onto the kitchen chair he always sat at. Switchblade was going to have to deal with him whether he wanted to or not. “I can’t believe one of the biggest parties, the Heart of Pride Gala in Pride, is happening and I’m not invited,” he cried, banging his hand on the tabletop.

Switchblade had no clue what Ghost was going on about and honestly didn’t really care. “Sounds rough,” was all he said.

“Pft! An old rusty robot like you wouldn’t understand!” Ghost huffed, sticking his silver tongue out at Switchblade’s back.

Switchblade could only nod in agreement. It was true. He had no idea what Ghost felt, nor did he really care to know.

“I always got an invitation to the Heart of Pride Gala every year since the year I was booted up,” Ghost said, sounding quite pathetic and on the brink of tears. “And this is the first f*cking year I won’t be going because everyone thinks I’m f*cking dead!” He fell into a fit of loud sobs. “It’s not fair.”

Switchblade, once again, could only agree with Ghost. It was unfair. If Ghost hadn’t been kidnapped, then he likely would be going to the gala and wouldn’t be crying at the kitchen table. “Well, there’s no use in making such a big fuss over it now,” he shrugged, not sure what else to tell Ghost.

“I’ll make a fuss if I want to!” Ghost snapped. “It’s just not fair,” he cried again. “That bitch Sugar Plum gets to go and she’s the worst Robo in all of Hell!”

Switchblade had heard everything there was to hear about Sugar Plum from Ghost at this point. He didn’t really know the robotic celebrity himself though, all he knew was that Ghost and Frankie hated her. “I’m sure Frankie will be thrilled to discuss your mutual hatred for her when we arrive at Kuan’s place,” he said. He then started washing the dishes.

“Do we really have to go to their place today?” Ghost asked like a pathetic puppy. “Frankie is just going to rub it in my face that he gets to go and I don’t.”

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to,” Switchblade said with an uncaring shrug. “But I’ll be heading out right after these cookies cool. ”

Ghost pouted and scowled at the back of Switchbalde's head. It was clear this wasn’t the response Ghost had wanted from Switchblade. Visiting Frankie and Kuan was usually a fun activity for the two. It got them out of the house, Switchblade got to enjoy quiet time with one of the only demons in hell that made him blush, and Ghost was able to complain his gears away to someone who truly understood him. On top of the company, Kuan’s home was the penthouse apartment of one of the tallest buildings in the fashion district of Pentagram City. Usually, it was something they both looked forward to.

Ghost grumbled to himself as he turned his attention to his cell phone. He sneered at the screen and mindlessly scrolled through Sinstagram. Anytime he came across anyone who liked Sugar Plum’s posts, he blocked them. The act made him feel better about not being invited to the gala.

Soon the chocolate chip cookies were cooled and Switchblade carefully placed them into a cute little Tupperware decorated with images of flowers along its side. He was careful to make sure the cookies were stacked in just the right way so that none of them broke. He wanted to make sure they were perfect for when they arrived at Kuan’s place. Once the cookies were packed away safely in his purse, he removed his apron and made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Ghost snapped from the kitchen table.

Switchblade turned just as he was about to head down the hall. “I told you, to Kuan’s place,” he replied, his tone short.

“But I said I didn’t want to go today,” Ghost cried like a spoiled child.

“Then stay home but I’m going!” Switchblade said. He then turned and headed to the front door with no intention of stopping.

“You’re such a f*cking asshole!” Ghost cried, standing from his chair so quickly that it fell over. With a very angry grunt, he headed towards the front door to join Switchblade. Like hell, he was going to let Switchblade enjoy Kuan’s luxurious home all on his own.

The trek to Kuan’s place was no short trip. It took a twenty-minute walk, two city buses, and the subway to make it to her part of the city. While Olivia’s apartment was located on the outskirts of the city where barely anyone lived, Kuan lived right in the city center. The streets were filled to the brim with demons, both hellborn and sinners alike. The roads were jam-packed with cars. Honking, shouting, shoving, and general rudeness were around every corner. It all really overwhelmed Switchblade’s systems but Ghost was completely at home in this mess. Ghost has once lived not too far from Kuan’s penthouse apartment.

It wasn’t their first time to visit with Kuan and Frankie but it had been a while since they last saw the two. The sinner and her rainbow robot were far too busy most weeks for a casual hang out like they had planned for today. It was annoyingly obvious to Ghost that Switchblade was excited by the way he smoothly walked down the street with a big dumb grin on his face. The guy was always such a nag to him but when it came to Kuan he was nothing but sweet. Simply pathetic in Ghost’s opinion.

It annoyed Ghost to no end how Switchblade was able to walk so openly down the street in whatever he wanted to wear while he was forced to cover his face under a cloak. The cloak was hand-knitted by Olivia and Ghost was forced to wear it any time he went into the city center. It covered him from head to toe. It had been crudely thrown together with whatever extra bits of yarn Oliva had hanging around the house. The colors didn’t match and there was no real design to it. Ghost hated it with a passion. He’d much rather wear some other disguise, but the older bot had convinced himself that if Mammon got word of Ghost’s survival, they’d all be dead. He insisted a cloak was the only suitable disguise.

Ghost hunched his back as he marched behind Switchblade. He was still pissed off that Sugar Plum had gotten an invite to the gala and he was now extra pissed off to be wearing this cloak. Just like always, Frankie was likely going to laugh at him the moment he stepped into their apartment. Why was life so unfair to him?

Neither robot said a word as they made their way from the bus stop to the apartment Kuan lived in. Switchblade had come to visit enough times that he didn’t need a map to help him find his way. He had made it a point to memorize the route the first time they ever went for a visit. The tall city buildings might have all looked the same to the older bot, but he had learned techniques to find his way around from all the time he had spent wandering around the forest.

Switchblade’s eyes shone when they finally came upon Kuan’s tall twisting apartment building. There was a happy humm that started from somewhere in his chest and buzzed out of his body. It had been a while since they had last seen their two friends. Switchblade loved being with Kuan almost as much as he loved wandering the woods. He shifted his bag on his shoulder before making his way to the entrance. Ghost, who was dragging behind, slowly followed after. The bottom of his clear feet scraped the pavement as he grumbled under his breath. He tried to think of sassy snappy things he might say to Frankie when he saw him, but currently, all he came up with sounded dumb.

The two bots had been for a visit enough times that they knew the code to get to the top-floor penthouse. The guards working the building knew them well enough that they were let in without question. One even smiled and waved at Switchblade as they entered. The older robot had once helped them clean up a mess that Ghost had created during a visit and they had taken a liking to Switchblade ever since.

The 59-floor elevator ride to the top of the apartment was mostly quiet. Ghost was in too foul of a mood to say much and Switchblade knew anything that would come out of the clear robot’s mouth was likely going to be negative. Switchblade took the time to check his phone to see if Kuan had gotten his text about them arriving.

Fluffy says to just let yourself in - Kuan

Letting themselves in was exactly what Switchblade and Ghost did. While Switchblade found it awkward to waltz on into someone's house without knocking, Ghost had no problem marching his way into the penthouse. Down the halls, Ghost loudly stomped with Switchblade following behind him, hissing at him to walk more quietly. The two didn’t need to announce their arrival with how loud Ghost stomped.

Once they entered the living room, Ghost immediately threw off his cloak. Much to his dismay, Frankie had already seen him in it. A loud cackle is what told Ghost he had been too slow removing the offensive clothing.

“Looks like Little Red Riding Hood and Grandma are here!” Frankie cackled. He sat stretched out along a bright red living room's long sofa. His legs stretched all the way to the end making it impossible for anyone to join him.

“f*ck you Paint Job!” Ghost snapped, glaring at his rival.

“Hello, you two. I’m very happy that you both arrived here safely,” Kuan said from a large red cushy armchair she sat in. She smiled in their general direction.

Switchblade completely ignored Frankie’s comment and made his way to Kuan’s side. “We didn’t have any trouble getting here at all,” he said once he was beside her. “I’ve got the route memorized.” He pointed proudly to his head as he said this.

“It’s a surprise an old thing like you can retain anything,” Frankie mumbled. This won him a snicker from Ghost.

The happy humming that had been emitting from Switchblade came to a stop. He turned to Frankie and in a much flatter tone said “It’s good to see you, too.”

“Why don’t you two take a seat and rest? It’s quite the journey from your place to our home,” Kuan said, motioning vaguely to the sofa Frankie sat on. The rainbow bot’s legs were still stretched out across the sofa.

“Move it, Paint Job!” Ghost said, making a leap for the sofa. He didn’t even wait for Frankie to retract his legs. He landed just beside Frankie, a few inches shy of his lap. He wrinkled up his golden snout and stuck his tongue out at the rainbow bot.

“Hey! For a prototype body, you weigh a ton, Ghost!” Frankie gasped, reeling his legs in. “Get the f*ck off me.”

“But you’re just so comfortable,” Ghost teased, the kink in his tail giving a small playful spark.

“f*ck you, Carbon!” Frankie said, shoving Ghost off his lap.

Ghost squeaked like a rubber chicken and landed on the other side of the sofa. Switchblade, who was just about to take a seat, took a step back. He inched closer to Kuan. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to join the other two bots on the sofa.

“How rude! Pushing a guest over like that,” Ghost said, sharply sitting himself upright. “You could have scuffed my face!” His cheeks puffed out as he frowned at Franky.

“We could just paint over any scuffs with some golden nail polish from the drugstore,” Franki teased.

Ghost gasped indignantly and tossed a rainbow leopard print cushion at Frankie's face. It missed by a long shot and Frankie only cackled wickedly at him. Crossing his transparent arms, Ghost slouched and had a good pout. His tail buzzed in annoyance.

Switchblade, who still hadn’t sat down, had fully committed to not joining the two on the sofa. He sent them a side eye before turning to Kuan. “I’m going to head into the kitchen and get this tea started,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”

“Gladly,” Kuan nodded.

Almost as if the two were in sync, Kuan lifted her arm up just as Switchblade reached out to receive it. Soon, Switchblade was guiding her out of the living room and towards the kitchen. The other two bots didn’t seem to take any notice of this. They had stopped their squabbling and were now snout-deep in their cellphones. Switchblade and Kuan simply left the two to their devices. Their visits always started with them scrolling social media before they entered some sort of passion-driven conversation about things Switchblade knew very little about.

The two fancy robots did just that. About thirty minutes had passed before either had said a single word to the other. Ghost was still upset over the video of Sugar Plum he had seen that morning. This would be the first year he wouldn’t be going to the gala and it set his oil to boiling knowing she’d be there living it up while he would likely be digging through piles of trash with Switchblade and Olivia.

Every few minutes Ghost would glance over at Frankie wondering if he got invited to the gala. He had a feeling he knew the answer. It only soured his mood more to know that he’d be the only bot out of the loop. His tail would spark in frustration any time anything reminded him of the pampered life he lost. That’s exactly what happened. An angry buzzing emitted from Ghost’s tail, growing louder and louder as his frustration grew and grew.

“What's got you all spicy today?” Frankie asked, taking notice of the annoying sound.

“Nothing,” Ghost spat. He brought his phone as close to his snout as he could and scowled at it. On the screen was nothing more than a silly duck meme.

Frankie didn’t reply right away, but narrowed his optics and studied Ghost instead. The rainbow bot’s gears seemed to turn as he considered what it could be that was getting to Ghost today. It wasn’t uncommon for the spoiled bot to get all pouty over the smallest of things.

“Listen, you aren’t really that heavy,” Frankie finally said. “I was just joking so stop being a brat.” He leaned himself up beside Ghost and sent him a set of his best sparkling starry eyes, making his rainbow unicorn horn glow softly.

Ghost attempted to shrug Frankie off but failed. His heart wasn’t really into it and he often liked the attention even if he didn’t want to admit it himself. “I’m not mad,” he shrugged dropping his phone to look at Frankie.

Frankie’s chin rested comfortably on his shoulder. From the sly smile on the rainbow bot’s face, it was clear he didn’t buy Ghost’s claim. Without a word, he lifted one of his hands up and gave his fingers a wiggle. He had discovered Ghost’s weakness not too long ago.

Ghost gave a small twitch when he caught sight of Frankie’s hand. “Don’t you f*cking- AH!” Ghost sharply started only for Frankie to make his attack.

“You can’t hide anything from me, Carbon!” Frankie said as he pounced on Ghost and expertly found all of Ghost’s tickle spots.

“Ahahah- f*ck! G-get off of m-me!” Ghost snapped between robotic giggles. He immediately collapsed under Frankie’s weight. He cursed whoever had the idea to build this prototype body with such sensitivity.

“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you,” Frankie cackled. He knew it was only a matter of time before Ghost cracked. The transparent bot never won in a tickle war.

“F-F-Frankie- hehehehe!” Ghost gasped, flailing his arms like one of those inflatable noodle guys outside used car lots. The robot was just as useless in a fight as he was in most other situations.

Frankie only cackled evilly, not relenting. Ghost would crack any moment now.

“Ahhh! FINE! I’ll tell you!” Ghost shouted to the heavens.

“Then you f*cking better start talking, or the tickle torture will continue!” Frankie cackled, knowing not to stop until Ghost spilled the beans.

“It’s that s-stupid v-video,” Ghost gasped. Much to his relief, Frankie’s attack came to a stop.

Frankie peered down at Ghost, still sitting on top of him. “Sugar?” he guessed correctly. A small frown was set on his face.

Ghost pouted, averting his gaze. He nodded only once. Frustration and sadness mixed together in the glow of his eyes.

“I haven’t watched it yet,” Frankie admitted, rolling off of Ghost. “You should just ignore her, Carbon. She isn’t worth your-”

“She’s going to the Gala!” Ghost said. He was still lying on his side. His head was just beside Frankie’s thigh. He curled in on himself and pouted at the sofa’s backrest.

“Oh,” Frankie mumbled, finally realizing why Ghost was so upset.

“It’s not fair. I always looked forward to that gala and… and… and…” Ghost’s robotic voice cracked with genuine emotion. Why had someone programmed them to get all weepy like this? Even the normal buzzing of his kinked tail had all but stopped. Ghost hated it when moments like this happened. If he had been at home in the apartment he would have hidden away in his loft until his spark came back.

“Who gives a sh*t about some stupid ritzy gala,” Frankie shrugged. He didn’t enjoy seeing Ghost so down but he never really knew what to do in situations where someone is this sad. Something told him another tickle fight was a bad idea.

Ghost didn’t say anything back at first. He knew Frankie liked fancy events just as much as he did. The two had always run into each other during his time as Diamond at all the same events and galas. Ghost had been the only one who had been removed from that lifestyle though. Frankie still got to enjoy all the luxuries Ghost once knew.

“You got your invite, didn’t you?” Ghost eventually said. He peaked up at Frankie only to see the rainbow bot give a small jolt.

“I mean… of course I did,” Frankie said, not looking at Ghost.

Ghost pouted but he wasn't upset at Frankie. He sat himself up, pulled his knees to his chin, and leaned up against Frankie's side. “This is so unfair!” he shouted before resting his forehead on his knees.

At first, Frankie didn’t know what to do. He felt he didn’t need to admit out loud that he’d be going. He knew that Ghost was already aware of it. He just hated to see Ghost like this. Only because it was ruining the mood of course and not because seeing Ghost sad hurt his mechanical heart.

“You know, Carbon, I’d totally invite you as my plus one but we both know Old Rusty in there wouldn’t let that happen,” Frankie said, motioning his head towards the kitchen.

“f*cking Switchblade always ruins everything,” Ghost huffed, glaring at the kitchen. The innocent murmurs of Switchblade and Kuan’s chatting could be heard.

“Hey, maybe once Mammon calls off the hunt on you, you’ll be able to show your face again,” Frankie said, doing his best to sound reassuring. He followed his statement with a cackle.

Ghost replied with a sharp huff. Of course, it was easy for Frankie to shrug it off. He wasn’t the one to lose everything. He wasn’t on Mammon’s hit list. He didn’t have some old rusty robot telling him his old boss only wanted him back for the diamond in his forehead. Not feeling better in the slightest, Ghost’s lower lip began to quiver. A sad ‘hum’ emitted from somewhere within his body. Maybe he should have stayed home today and drowned his sorrows in lemonade.

Frankie’s smirk fell at the genuine look of sorrow in Ghost’s glowing eyes. He felt a bit bad for having brought up Mammon. It was always a sore topic for the transparent bot. “Hey, Carbon… It’s just a stupid party,” Frankie started a bit awkwardly. His voice was a little more gentle now but there was a hint of uncertainty to it. He wasn’t very good when it came to cheering people up.

“But I always looked forward to it every year,” Ghost mumbled, his robotic voice weepy. He leaned his whole weight against Frankie’s side but didn’t look at him. Instead, he carried on scowling at the sofa’s armrest at the far end.

“Hey, I can guarantee that my birthday parties are way better than any stupid gala,” Frankie proudly said. The fluffy tufted of fur at the end of his tail ticked at Ghost’s leg in a playful manner.

“Great, now I have two awesome parties I’ll be missing out on,” Ghost grumbled, his pout only increasing in intensity.

“Oh? You think my parties are awesome, Carbon?” Frankie asked with a small hint of shock in his voice.

For the first time since his pouting session, Ghost turned to look at Frankie. “I wouldn’t know because you never f*cking invited me to one!” he bluntly said. He sends Frankie a sharp look as if Frankie should feel ashamed for having never invited him.

Frankie did his best not to crack a smile. Ghost’s sad pout was now replaced with an insulted grimace. “You were the most annoying thing on the block back then,” he said with a shrug. “You would have killed the vibe of the party.”

“What!? I was the most annoying thing?” Ghost scoffed. “What about that bitch Sugar?”

“You were the second most annoying thing on the block back then,” Frankie rolled his eyes. “Though I could have saved a fortune on disco balls if I invited you along,” he teasingly added. “You glittered like a kid’s bedazzled lunchbox!”

“Damn right, I glittered,” Ghost huffed. “I was the shiniest damn thing in all of Hell… but now none of that matters,” he sighed, his shoulder drooping once more.

Frankie sighed at the sad sight of Ghost. He could see through Ghost’s stomach that his pumps were only working half as fast as they normally did. It was a sure sign that the transparent bot was not feeling his normal sassy self.

“Meh, bedazzled and shiny is kind of out of fashion anyways,” Frankie said, taking Ghost around the shoulder and bringing him in.

“Ack- What the f*ck!” Ghost sputtered upon finding himself in Frankie’s hold. He struggled but his heart wasn’t really in it.

Frankie held Ghost in a half-head lock, half hug as he carried on with his explanation. “Nowadays people are interested in things that glow,” he said reassuringly. “I was thinking of having a glow-in-the-dark party this year.” This was not actually true and only something Frankie had thought up on the spot.

“A what party?” Ghost said. He stopped his struggle and craned his neck back to look up at Frankie.

“You know, a party with a dark room and only things that glow,” Frankie explained, making it up as he went along. “The decorations, people’s clothing, maybe even some glowing balloons.”

“Sounds lame,” Ghost teased, bringing his finger up to poke Frankie’s cheek. “You wouldn’t be able to see anyone’s face so you wouldn’t be able to see if you were dancing with some creep.”

“Oh, you think it’s lame?” Frankie asked, feeling a bit annoyed. He honestly thought it sounded pretty fun. “A dark room with low lighting sounds like the perfect place for someone who might want to hide their face away.”

“What kind of creep would want to hide their face?” Ghost stubbornly asked.

“Someone who’s on the run from a deadly Sin, but still wants to go to parties,” Frankie snapped, tightening his hold around Ghost’s neck. He was moments away from giving the other bot a noogie. He sometimes forgot just how dense the transparent bot could be.

It took Ghost a hot minute to realize Frankie was talking about him. He felt an instant wave of shock overcome him. “Hey! Are you calling me a creep!?” he huffed, his tail giving a rather snappy spark.

Frankie smiled to see Ghost’s tail alive and well again. The pumps in Ghost seemed to be thumping away at full throttle, too. Frankie released Ghost from his neck hold. “You’re just too dense sometimes,” he said with a shake of his head and a small smirk.

“Just because I’m not in the public’s eye anymore doesn’t mean I’m a creep now!” Ghost said, scowling at Frankie.

Frankie chuckled. “I wasn’t calling you a creep you dumbass,” he said. “I was saying that I’d throw a party you could go to,” he explained. As he spoke he stretched his arm long, looped it twice, curved it back, and booped Ghost right on the snout.

Once more the gears in Ghost’s golden head seemed to turn slowly. The kink in his tail hummed in just as much concentration. Slowly his scowl morphed into a smile. His robotic heart pattered in the way a heart does when someone does something nice for them. He hadn’t expected this from Frankie.

“Y-You really mean it?” Ghost asked, scooting closer to Frankie.

“Well, you don’t really seem too keen on the idea…” Frankie replied, averting his gaze in a teasing manner.

“Wait! No!” Ghost hurriedly said. He practically lept into Frankie’s lap. It had been so long since he had been to any sort of soirée that he’d even go to a party being thrown by his ex-rival. “I think it’s a great idea. A glow-in-the-dark party would be f*cking amazing! Best of the year I’m sure,” he insisted, laying it on a little too thick.

Frankie chuckled at Ghost’s over-the-top insistence. Whether it be positive or negative, the transparent bot was always way too easy to get riled up. Ghost was probably one of the most excitable creatures he knew. It was one reason Frankie enjoyed having him around. There was never a dull moment when it came to Ghost.

“Well, I guess I can consider it,” Frankie shrugged. “But if I were to do something like that for my party, I’d still want to be the stand-out bot.” As he spoke he looked Ghost up and down.

Ghost peered down at himself to see the light from within his own body glowing as they always did. Ghost was used to it by now, but he was basically a walking nightlight. The majority of the lights within him, he had no control over whether they were on or not. For a few of them, he had no idea if they were just there for show, or if they had another purpose.

“I can always wear long sleeves on that day,” Ghost said, mistaking Frankie staring for jealousy.

“That won’t be necessary,” Frankie insisted. “I think if you carry me around on your back the whole party it would make me stand out more than anyone else.”

“What!?” Ghost snapped. “I’m not some pony. Your heavy body will break my delicate prototype body! There’s no way I could carry you around!” He said, getting worked up yet again.

Frankie cackled loudly and took Ghost around the shoulder once more. “Calm down, Carbon, I was only joking,” he said. He couldn’t help but find it amusing when Ghost took things way too seriously.

Pouting, Ghost scowled up at Frankie. “Yeah, I knew that.” If he could blush, he’d be beat red in the face. The humming in his chest gave away just how embarrassed he felt.

“Don’t worry, Ghost. We’ll work something out,” Frankie said, this time his voice more sincere

Ghost relaxed in Frankie’s hold. He peeked over at him and returned the smile. “It’s been such a long time. I’m looking forward to it,” he said. His tail swayed gently until it found itself twisting up with Frankie’s tail. Their tails carelessly twisted and danced around each other.

“I can’t have you coming around here and pouting all the time,” Frankie shrugged. “Besides, you really do bring the life to the party,” he admitted. It was true. At any soirée they both attended back in the day, Ghost had always been a large source of entertainment. He was just as clumsy then as he is now. Recently, Frankie found himself feeling bored at most soirées.

“I don’t pout that much,” Ghost said, averting his eyes once more. “But thank you…”

Neither Frankie nor Ghost were very used to such a touching moment between them. The two rarely ever showed their softer side to anyone. Perhaps years of being in the spotlight had left them a bit guarded when it came to their feelings. When Ghost was living his life as Diamond he was meant to keep up his appearance at all times. Even when at home he had to appear to have the perfect life. Nothing bad ever happened to Diamond no matter how lonely he may have felt at times.

“Maybe you and I can plan-” Frankie started only for a loud ping to sound from Ghost’s cellphone. He stopped short as Ghost opened the message and gave a small gasp.

“Holy sh*t!” Ghost said, standing from the sofa and almost knocking Frankie over.

“What the f*ck!” Frankie said, giving his snout a rub after Ghost had elbowed him in it.

Ghost turned around to face Frankie. He smiled as bright as the sun. Whatever sorrow that had been there was now completely gone. His tail sparked several times in excitement. For a moment, he was speechless.

“You’re scaring me, Carbon,” Frankie flatly said, scooting away from the other bot.

“An invitation!” was all Ghost got out.

“A what!?” Frankie asked, not sure what Ghost meant.

“I just got an invitation!” Ghost said, shaking his hands in absolute excitement.

“To the gala!?” Frankie asked in disbelief.

Ghost nodded in excitement and did a little dance.

“B-But how!?” Frankie choked out. This made no sense. Most, if not all, of Hell thought Ghost was dead.

Ghost stopped his dance and an awkward air overcame him. “Well… You remember that second account I made?”

“You meant the stupid one where you post all of Switchblade’s disgusting cooking?” Frankie asked, sneering a bit.

Ghost nodded. “It’s been crazy growing in popularity the past few months. You wouldn’t believe how many people love food.”

“Yeah… and…?” Frankie nodded. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“And I just got an invitation to the gala!” Ghost nodded. He did another small happy dance on the spot.

“You mean Rust Bucket there just got invited to the gala…” Frankie asked, crossing his arms. “He’s never going to agree to go,” Frankie sighed, shaking his head.

Ghost’s happy little dance came to a sudden halt. Frankie was right, but Ghost couldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. He had worked hard to make the account what it was now. He couldn't let this all go down the drain because Switchblade was feeling shy. That old rusty robot was going to that gala whether he wanted to or not!

Chapter 2: Switchblade’s Sinstagram

Chapter Text

Ghost knew he needed to approach the topic very carefully. He might not have been the sharpest bot in the warehouse but he knew Switchblade better than he would like to admit. The older robot was almost the exact opposite of Ghost. He hated large crowds, hated being in the spotlight, knew nothing about what was in and what was out, and most of all, had no interest in any social events whatsoever. Infact, Ghost was pretty sure Switchblade hated everything he liked.

Switchblade had been convinced since the day he and Olivia booted Ghost up that Ghost was a liability to their peaceful way of living. It wasn’t because of Ghost’s snarky attitude or his need for constant attention that caused Switchblade to believe this. It was who Ghost used to belong to before he had been kidnapped and torn apart. It wasn’t a secret that Ghost’s old owner and boss had been Mammon, The Embodiment of Green himself.

If Ghost was being honest, he never really had much of a relationship with Mammon. The Greed Sin had built Ghost out of pure gold and placed his prized diamond in his head as a means to sell the versatility of the Fizzies brand. Back then, when Ghost went by the name Diamond, it was his job to catalog his luxurious life and display it to the world. His job showed people just how amazing the Fizzies could be. That you could customize your Fizzie to be whatever you want for the right price.

Ghost’s life was luxurious back then. He lived in a huge mansion in the heart of Pentagram City. He made appearances at every social event imaginable to demon kind. He had whole droves of fans who hung on his every word. And while he didn’t necessarily have anybody he’d consider a close friend, he did have everything else in life a bot could have wanted.

Ghost was amazing at his job so it made perfect sense that Mammon would want him back after his disappearance. Who wouldn’t want their best employee back? But Switchblade was insistent that Mammon didn’t want Ghost back but only wanted the diamond in his forehead back. Mammon’s mad search around hell for Ghost was only to get back his prized diamond and not his best employee.

Ghost didn’t want to believe it, of course. Not that he really cared if Mammon loved him or not, Ghost just didn’t want to think his boss would rip such a good employee to bits. Mammon may have been greedy but he wasn’t dumb. No amount of shiny objects could replace a star employee, right? At least this was what Ghost told himself when the topic came up. Switchblade didn’t care about him. He only cared about Mammon discovering him and Oliva and killing them on the spot. Doing any sort of work on Robotic Fizzarollies was against the law after all.

Ever since Ghost had found himself in Olivia’s care, he had been forced to hide himself away from the world. While he did talk Olivia into letting him have his own phone, he wasn’t allowed to post images of himself. The fact that he was alive and well had to be kept a secret from the rest of Hell for his own safety according to Switchblade. While the rest of the universe moved on, Ghost found himself crammed in his loft above the dusty kitchen in the old apartment he now called home. A place that Switchblade valued more than Ghost’s happiness.

But there had to be a way to convince Switchblade that going to the gala was a good idea. That it simply must happen. Ghost had worked too hard to build up the Sinstagram account he made for Switchblade for the invitation to just go ignored. The follower count would drop and Ghost would go back to being a nobody once again… Switchblade would go back to being a nobody.

“He is never going to agree to this,” Frankie half hissed half snickered into Ghost’s ear. “Does he even know what you’ve been doing?”

The two were whispering just outside the kitchen. Ghost shrugged Frankie off and sent him a scowl. He hadn’t quite pieced together what he was going to say to convince Switchblade to take the invitation. He hadn’t even mentioned to Switchblade once about the Sinstagram account and he knew the older bot was going to malfunction when he found out. He needed to approach the topic very gently if he wanted to get Switchblade to agree to go. Fortunately for Ghost, Switchblade was always in a better mood when he was with Kuan.

“Frankie dear, is there something you and Ghost need?” Kuan asked from within the kitchen.

Ghost released a sharp huff. Of course, she would hear them. While the sinner had no sight to speak of, her hearing made up for it a thousand times over.

“Frankie?” Kuan called again when the two didn’t reply.

Ghost hadn’t thought up a plan. He sent Frankie a look that screamed ‘Say something!’

Frankie just smiled innocently and shrugged. He seemed to be enjoying Ghost’s inner panic.

“What in Lucifer’s name are you two doing!” Switchblade snapped, swinging open the door. He scowled at the two fancy robots.

Ghost hadn’t ever really been the planning sort of bot to begin with so why start now? Holding himself proudly, he pushed his way past Switchblade and into the kitchen. “We just came to see what was taking so long,” he said.

“Yeah, you’re old rusty ass needs to hurry it up,” Frankie snickered, following in after Ghost. He sent Switchblade one of his brattiest of sneers.

Switchblade rolled his eyes. He suddenly felt like his battery was being drained by simply being around the other two bots. He didn’t feed into their taunting. He had learned quickly it wasn’t worth the energy use.

“Frankie, what did I tell you about calling our guests old and rusty,” Kuan gently scolded.

“But Switchblade is old and rusty,” Ghost piped in. The way he spoke of Switchblade was almost as if he had forgotten he was meant to be buttering the older bot up and not upsetting him.

Switchblade had taken residence at the kitchen counter. He was filling a teapot with hot water from an electric kettle. It took everything in him to simply ignore Ghost and Frankie. He wasn’t going to let their prejudice of older bots ruin his day with Kuan.

“Listen, we can call you two when the tea is ready. It won’t be long,” Switchblade tired in hopes the two would leave.

While Ghost wasn’t the sharpest, Frankie was as sharp as they came. He hadn’t ever really liked Switchblade too much. The way the older bot always got cozy with Kuan seemed to get under the colorful bot’s proverbial skin. He smiled wickedly as he sat beside Kuan.

“If it’s not going to take much longer we might as well wait it out here with you two and catch up,” Frankie said, looking as innocent as he could.

It took everything in Switchblade not the leer at the rainbow bot. “Fine, you both can do whatever you want,” he shrugged. He went back to arranging the cookies he made on a plate. He always had a good eye when it came to plating food even though he rarely ate himself.

“So, what sort of boring crap have you two been talking about?” Frankie asked. His leering eyes never left the back of Switchblade’s head. It took everything in the older bot to simply ignore it.

“I was just telling Switchblade about the Gala,” Kuan sighed. She slouched in her seat and tilted her head back. The conversation hadn’t gone too far before they had been interrupted by Ghost and Frankie. By the looks of it, Kuan wasn’t particularly excited about the event.

“Oh, the Gala,” Ghost grumbled. His tail fidgeted in the way it often did when he was hiding something. Frankie took notice of it but Switchblade chose to ignore it.

“What exactly do they make you do at one of these things?” Switchblade asked as he carried on carefully plating the treats he had brought.

“I’ll be showcasing a few works of mine,” Kuan said, sounding neither excited nor dissapointed. “I’ll also have to mingle with others I suppose. A bit of networking,” she added, this time sounding a bit more exhausted.

“You’re going to be working at this party?” Switchblade asked. He set out a cup of tea for each member at the table except himself. “I thought it was a party.”

“It is a party, but Fluffy here was invited to showcase her work. We artists and creators are invited to this thing to show off what we got,” Frankie sharply replied. “Can’t you follow along!?”

“How was I supposed to know that,” Switchblade snapped back.

“I hadn’t gotten that far yet, Frankie,” Kuan explained, looking a little apologetic.

“Well, how was I supposed to know that,” Frankie replied, doing his best to mimic Switchblade. He added a nasally whine to his voice.

Ghost held back a snicker. He badly wanted to chime in on the conversation but was smart enough to not push Switchblade too far.

“So, you’ll have to work at this thing?” Switchblade half asked half stated. The question was directed at Kuan and Kuan alone.

“Mostly just showcasing my work and mingling, this party is more of a high-end show and tell. Comes with the territory I guess.” Kuan nodded followed by a heavy sigh.

“I heard it’s going to be fully catered with three chocolate fountains and an endless river of Beelzejuice,” Frankie said in a sing-song voice. He glanced over at Ghost and snickered at the frustration the transparent robot was radiating. He knew Ghost loved chocolate fountains.

“Sounds gimmicky,” Switchblade said with a shake of his head.

“Chocolate fountains are the best. Just because you don’t have a refined pallet-” Ghost started, feeling insulted on behalf of chocolate fountains everywhere.

“Carbon, here, practically bathed in the chocolate fountain last year,” Frankie cut in, before devolving into a fit of laughter.

“I fell into it!” Ghost huffed, feeling quite embarrassed that the blunder from last year was being brought it. Was that all anyone remembered about him from the last gala he attended?

“You fell face first and sat there with your mouth wide open filling your stomach cavity to the brim. When they tried to get you out, you hissed at them!” Frankie said between fits of laughter. “Oh wait! I think I still have a video!”

“I was already in there so I may as well enjoy myself!” Ghost said, crossing his arms. “It wasn’t my fault they made it so easy for someone to fall in.”

“Admit it, Carbon, that was all just a stunt you pulled for views,” Frankie said as he scrolled through his old camera rolls.

“It was not a stunt! I was pushed in,” Ghost insisted. It had been true. He hadn’t planned on taking a dive into the chocolate and only went along with it once he realized all the attention had been on him. He had no clue who had shoved him in the first place and he really didn’t care.

“Oh my Satan, here it is! I found the video!” Frankie said, flipping his phone around for Ghost and Switchblade to see.

The video started with Ghost already in the pool of chocolatey liquid. His body had been golden from head to toe back then. He wore a jester hat bedazzled with crystals and a shining silver suit that was covered in chocolate. In the video, he posed sensually for a rather handsome sinner who was trying to help him out of the mess.

Ghost felt his robotic heart drop sadly as he watched the video. He hadn’t looked at his old self for months now. He forgot how beautiful and shiny he had been back then. It was simply unfair that it had been taken away from him.

“f*ck! You really did swim in the chocolate,” Switchblade said. He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “And here I thought you didn’t like getting dirty and sticky.”

“I wasn’t swimming,” Ghost said. He pouted across the table at Frankie for showing off the video in the first place.

Kuan flicked her ears at the video as she perked up a bit, smiling softly followed by a light chuckle. “That must have been quite the sight to see, that would make any gala more interesting for sure.”

“Fluffy, the last thing you should be doing is encouraging this shiny-assed tin can.” Turning his head to Ghost, the rainbow bot batted his eyes. He smiled innocently back at Ghost. “How are those cookies coming along, Rustbucket?” Frankie asked in an attempt to take Ghost’s anger off of himself.

“Frankie, be patient,” Kuan grunted.

Just as she spoke, Switchblade turned around with a whole plate of his homemade chocolate chip cookies. It was a recipe he had come up with himself with years of trial and error. They had cooled nicely on their trip over. Their edges were golden and crispy, and just by looking at them you could tell the center was soft and gooey. Their fresh sweet chocolaty scent wafted to the table. Even Kuan sat herself up a bit taller as he placed them down.

“I made these for you, Kuan,” Switchblade said, scooting the plate more toward Kuan. Before he could even pull his hand away, the plate was snatched up. “Ghost! Not this sh*t again!”

Ghost had indeed taken the cookie and had headed to the counter by the window. With his free hand, he pushed everything off the counter and placed the cookies down. He positioned them this way and that as he tried to get the best angle and the right lighting.

“Ghost! Why in Lucifer’s name are you always taking photos of everything I make?” Switchblade asked. His hands were on his hips as he frowned at Ghost. He knew by this point that there wasn’t any point in fighting Ghost. The transparent bot would give them back when he was done.

“It’s only going to take a minute,” Ghost mumbled, his concentration mostly on his photography now.

“It’s alright Switchblade. I’m sure the cookies are lovely and photo-worthy,” Kuan said as she lifted her muzzle and gave a quick sniff. “They smell absolutely delicious.” She sat patiently at the table. Beside her, Frankie snickered with amusem*nt.

Just as promised, Ghost returned the plate of cookies when he was finished. “See, I’m done before you know it,” he said, popping a cookie into his mouth before putting the plate on the table.

Switchblade further scooted the cookies towards Kuan. He leered at Ghost as he did so. “What are you doing with all those pictures anyways?” He asked.

“Just posting them up on Sinstagram,” Ghost said with a shrug. He sat beside Frankie and stretched his arm out for another cookie.

“You’ve been putting photos of the food I make up on your Sinstagram?” Switchblade asked, sounding rather shocked.

“No,” Ghost said. He snatched a second cookie and reeled his arm back to himself. “I’m posting them up on your Sinstagram page.”

“M-My… I don’t have a Sinstagram,” Switchblade said. His face screwed up in absolute confusion.

There was a beat of silence. Kuan took a cookie and nibbled on it silently. Fankie’s cheeks were puffed up like balloons as he tried to hold in his laughter. Switchblade’s eyes flipped back and forth between Frankie and Ghost as he tried to figure out if this was just a joke or if Ghost was serious.

“Yes, you do,” Ghost said as if it were a fact everyone in the room already knew. “And I post photos of your food on it.”

For a moment Switchblade stood at the table in stunned silence. His eyes were now fixed on Ghost. He was too shocked to feel much anger. “Show me!” he demanded, taking long steps to where Ghost sat.

“It’s not that big of a deal, SB,” Ghost shrugged, holding his phone away from Switchblade.

“Here it is!” Frankie said, holding up his extra large smartphone to show off Switchblade’s Sinstagram page. “But no touching it with your old rusty hands!”

Switchblade squinted at the page on Frankie’s phone. Picture upon pictures of the dishes and desserts he had made over the past four months filled the page to the brim. The stew he had made last night, the blueberry pancakes from yesterday morning, even the cheesecake he had made a month ago for Kuan was there. Switchblade felt a jolt of shock when he realized the icon for the page was an image of himself in his old ratty pink apron pulling a pie from the oven. In the image, he smiled broadly at the pie. That had been another treat he had made for Kuan. It was when he saw the follower count that his heart dropped, just over five thousand one hundred followers.

“Ghost…” was all Switchblade was able to get out. His voice shook as a wave of fear and frustration overcame him.

Ghost could see the anger in Switchblade growing and knew he had to do damage control before he even thought of bringing up the Gala. “Everyone loves you, SB. Isn’t that great?” he said, sending the older robot a strained smile.

“Why is my face clearly visible in this photo?” Switchblade asked, his voice laced with danger.

There was a beat of silence at the table. Even Kuan shifted uncomfortably. Frankie’s smile faltered for a moment. Usually, Switchblade would shrug off Ghost’s shenanigans no matter how annoyed he got, but at the moment he looked like he was about ready to smash Ghost’s golden face into the table.

“Well!?” Switchblade growled.

“Th-They love you, SB, isn’t that great?” Ghost weakly pointed out again. He laughed nervously. This didn’t seem to calm Switchblade at all.

Switchblade took a deep breath in through his nose and out his mouth. “Ghost,” he stared, sounding like an exasperated mother. “It’s one thing to post images of the food I make. It’s a whole other story when you start posting my face all over the internet, for everyone to see!”

“But your followers wanted to see you. Many of them didn’t believe you were a robot, SB,” Ghost replied with a pout.

“I don’t care what they think about me,” Switchblade sharply replied. “These people are strangers, Ghost. I don’t want them knowing who I am,” he said, gesturing wildly to Frankie’s phone. “What if they figured out where I lived? What if they saw me on the streets?”

“Oh, come on, SB, it’s not that big of a deal,” Ghost said, brushing off the other bot’s concerts. “None of that would ever happen.”

“Yeah, you look like any other generic Robo Fizz,” Frankie added, sounding more condescending than reassuring.

“My point is, Ghost,” Switchblade started, ignoring Frankie. “I don’t appreciate you putting pictures of me online like this. We don’t know who these people are. They could be crazy. Who knows? They could even figure out who you are! It’s dangerous.”

“You’re worrying over nothing, SB. How are people going to know I’m on the other side of the camera?” Ghost asked. He waved his hand uncaring at Switchblade's concerns.

“Because you’re clumsy as f*ck, Ghost!” Switchblade exploded with exasperation. “I wouldn’t be shocked if you’ve already blown your cover. Knowing you, you’ve probably posted pictures where you’re in the reflection of a window or something.” At this point, Switchblade was on the brink of a breakdown. An aggressive humming was emitting from somewhere within his chest cavity. Clearly, he wasn’t happy to have his very own Sinstagram page.

“Switchblade…?” Kuan said, her ears laying flat on her head and her brow furrowed in concern. She carefully reached her hand out and felt around until she found Switchblade’s shoulder.

Switchblade gave a small jump, but calmed almost immediately. He turned to look at Kuan and found her smiling softly at him. He placed his hand on top of hers and stood himself up straight. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice wavering only a little bit.

With her hand still on Switchblade’s shoulder, she turned her attention to Ghost. “It wasn’t right of you to make a page without Switchblade’s consent,” she said, frowning in Ghost’s general direction. “He has every right to be worried. You are in a very precarious situation right now, Ghost.”

Ghost didn’t meet Kuan’s scolding with sass like he often did with Switchblade. Instead, he sunk in his seat and pouted like a child. This wasn’t going in the direction he had wanted it to. Now he had both Switchblade and Kuan upset at him.

“Do you really need to get involved, Fluffy?” Frankie said under his breath. He scowled across the table at Switchblade as if this was all his doing.

For a moment no one said anything. Switchblade was still too upset to look at anyone, Kuan’s stern attention was still on Ghost, and Ghost kept his lips glued shut. Frankie would have laughed his pants off if he wasn’t busy glaring at Switchblade. Not anything close to the relaxing afternoon Olivia’s two robots had hoped for.

Switchblade was the first to speak. “Delete it!”

“What!?” Ghost shouted, almost falling from his chair.

“Delete the account,” Switchblade reiterated. “I want it gone!” His eyes shot to Ghost.

“No f*cking way!” Ghost defensively replied, standing from his chair. His tail gave a loud angry zap!

“I don’t want my own Sinstagram account!” Switchblade said, taking a sept towards Ghost. “Delete it!”

“I can’t delete it! Your follower count is going up every day! In the past month at least 30 new people follow each time I post something new,” Ghost argued back. He made sure to keep a good distance between himself and Switchblade. “Just yesterday Jeffrey Dahmer from Canable Cooking started following you. You’ve been discovered, SB. You'd be insane to just throw that all away,” he desperately pleaded.

“Discovered!?” Switchblade scoffed. “That’s the last thing I want, Ghost. I don’t want people to know who I am.”

“I won’t delete it! Not after all the hard work I put into building this account,” Ghost shot back. His voice wavered with emotion. This account was the closest thing he had to any resemblance to his old life.

“I don’t want it!” Switchblade paused after each word.

“It isn’t right to keep it going if Switchblade is uncomfortable with it,” Kuan said with a sad shake of her head. She could hear the desperation in sadness in poor Ghost’s voice.

“But-” Ghost sputtered. His lower lip quivered as he looked between the other three in the kitchen. He simply couldn’t destroy everything he had worked so hard to create.

Frankie’s chair creaked loudly as he stood up. “Everyone needs to calm down,” he said as he confidently strode his way over to Ghost. “I think there is more than enough room for compromise here.”

“f*ck that!” Switchblade hissed. “I said I don’t want an account so-”

“Calm your old rusty pumps, Switchblade,” Frankie said, cutting him off. He then swung his arm around Ghost’s shoulder and held him close. “Carbon here worked his gears ragged to get this silly old account going.”

“F-Frankie?” Ghost whispered in shock. His eyes shined with adoration at how the rainbow robot took his word. He then gave a small ‘eep’ of shock as Frankie took him into a rather rough half-hug half-headlock.

“Perhaps Ghostie can take the images of you down, Rust Bucket, but keep up the photos of the food?” Frankie asked, giving a small shrug.

Switchblade didn’t reply right away. Much to Ghost’s shock, he considered what Frankie had said.

“I think it’s a fair trade, don’t you, Kuan?” Frankie asked, knowing damn well that Switchblade would agree if Kuan did.

“I suppose that could work,” Kuan thoughtfully nodded.

Frankie’s eyes slowly went from Kuan to Switchblade. “What do you say, Rust Bucket?”

“Come on, SB! Don’t make me delete it! I promise I’ll delete all the photos of you,” Ghost desperately pleaded. “Those didn’t get very many comments anyway,” he quickly added. That wasn’t entirely true. Most of the comments under Switchblades photos were focused on how he was such an old Robo Fizz model, and that it was uncommon to see such an old model running so well. Nothing important in Ghost’s opinion.

Both Ghost and Frankie looked at Switchblade for his answer. Frankie smiled confidently while Ghost did his best to look as sad as possible. Even Ghost’s tail sparked like a begging puppy.

“Ugh, fine,” Switchblade mumbled, crossing his arms. He glared at the table wishing to take back his answer. “Every photo of me on there better be gone in the next hour.”

“They will be,” Ghost insisted as he held his phone securely to his chest.

Switchblade sighed and his shoulders dropped. Perhaps Frankie was right. He was a basic model with nothing standing out about himself. Without even a dent or scuff to speak of, there was no way anyone on the street would be able to point him out. He collapsed in the chair beside Kuan and scooted the cookies in front of her.

“I made them this morning,” the old robot said, his voice sounding rather tired. He ignored Frankie and Ghost.

Kuan took another cookie and ate it. Her ears perked up and she hummed in joy. “These are simply amazing, Switchblade. How do you do it?” She said, her body melting with bliss. “Crispy on the outside and gooey on the inside. Simply perfect.”

The happy humming quietly returned to Switchblade.

Ghost wasn’t sure if he should join Switchblade at the table or not. He still hadn’t brought up the gala and something told him he was doing a terrible job of buttering Switchblade up. He glanced over and shrugged at Frankie who was still standing beside him. He made a motion towards the living room but Frankie only smiled and headed back to join the others at the table.

“Pass one, here!” Frankie demanded the moment his butt hit his chair. He reached across the table and swiped a cookie before anyone could tell him otherwise. He popped the whole thing in his. “I guess it’s okay,” he said before taking two more cookies. It was clear by how quickly he ate them that perhaps he thought they were more than just okay.

“Thank you,” Switchblade said, taking the compliment.

“Well, Carbon, are you just going to stand there or are you going to join us?” Frankie asked before popping a fourth cookie into his mouth.

Ghost didn’t reply. Dragging his feet he joined the others at the table.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to,” Switchblade said under his breath.

Ghost said nothing to Switchblade, nor did he take a cookie. Instead, he glared at the fancy mahogany table. He had to think and he had to think fast. What was he going to do to get the older robot to agree to attend the Gala? Unfortunately for him, Frankie seemed to be hell-bent on getting the news out now rather than later.

“Boy, am I excited for the Gala next month,” Frankie loudly said, stretching his arms out before relaxing in his chair. “They always have the best dessert table at these functions.” He glanced over at Ghost and smiled as if to encourage him to bring up the topic of the invitation.

Ghost, whose mouth was not working for the first time ever, ignored Frankie and carried on with his glaring contest against the table. His tail gave a small annoyed zap. He wasn’t ready.

“I suppose the catering is nice at these functions,” Kuan nodded. “I never really go home feeling hungry,” she said with a half shrug. It seemed both she and Switchblade either didn’t pick up on Frankie’s odd behavior or didn’t care.

“What kind of things do they serve?” Switchblade asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You interested in going and seeing, Rust Bucket,” Frankie asked, his tail curling in excitement. “Maybe there is some way for you to go and check it out for yourself.”

Ghost jolted in his seat. What was Frankie doing!?

“Uh… Well…” Switchblade started, eyeing Frankie suspiciously. “How would I do that?” There was a nervous hint in his robotic voice.

“With an invitation,” Frankie said matter-of-factly.

“Invitation?” Switchblade questioned, his eyes darting to Kuan as if he expected her to suddenly invite him. Much to his shock, even Kuan seemed confused by this.

“Frankie, dear you, know this Gala doesn’t allow plus ones,” Kuan said, looking a little nervous and confused. Her tail was ever so slightly puffed up and she twiddled her fingers under the table.

“I didn’t mean us, Fluffy,” Frankie said, with an eye roll.

“What the heck are you going on about then?” Switchblade asked, his tone short and his hands on his hips.

Frankie huffed before turning his attention to Ghost. He looked at the transparent bot expectedly. Switchblade’s glare followed Frankie’s eye to Ghost as well. The older bot shifted his weight to the other hip and looked at Ghost as if to scream ‘I swear to Satan, you better only have good news for me.’

Ghost sent Frankie a sharp scowl before turning back to Switchblade. “You’re going to the Gala, too,” he said with the tone of a mother telling their child they had to attend the dreaded family gathering.

“And how am I going to do that without an invitation?” Switchblade flatly asked.

“Fortunately for you, you do have an invitation,” Ghost replied as if this were something Switchblade should have already known.

“No, I do not,” the older bot swiftly replied.

“You do,” Ghost insisted. “You got the invitation today. Baron Benjamin has invited you to the Gala as his top Social media interest and artist.”

Switchblade said nothing but looked at Ghost as if the transparent bot was mad. Ghost sends Switchblade a shrug as if to tell him ‘There isn’t anything we can do about it’. All the while, Frankie was snickering to himself.

“Is this true?” Kuan spoke up. “Has Switchblade really been invited?” There was a thoughtful tone to her voice and her ears twitched in the way they often did when she was thinking.

“I have not been invited,” Switchblade insisted. “If I had then I would have an invitation and I don’t see one, nor do I know who this Baron Benjamin is.”

“He is one of your biggest fans,” Ghost said, not stopping to think if it was a good idea to point out that Switchblade had fans.

“And probably your richest fan,” Frankie added with a snicker.

“You’re invitation is right here!” Ghost said, rolling his eyes. In his opinion, Switchblade was overreacting once again. Most creatures in Hell would have been esthetic to get an invitation to this event. He flipped his phone around to show off the email invitation he had received.

Switchblade leaned forward and squinted his glowing eyes at the phone. Indeed there was an email addressed to him. “Dear, Switchblade,” He mumbled as he read the email aloud. “You have been cordially invited to this year’s Heart of Pride Gala by Bron Benjamin, granson of President Zagan. Please RSVP to this email as soon as possible.”

Switchblade did not bother to read the rest of the email. Instead, his eye slowly drifted from the phone to Ghost. He had the look of someone who had just heard the worst news in all of Hell. Ghost smiled back at him, doing his best to not sneer instead.

“This is a joke,” Switchblade flatly said.

“Look’s just like the one Fluffy and I got,” Frankie said. He had a huge sh*t-eating smile on his face. He was enjoying every last moment of Switchblade’s meltdown.

Switchblade looked from Ghost to Frankie. He pursed his lips and released a sharp puff of air through his snout. His body shook with frustration and likely worry. He then quickly stood himself up and turned his back to the table.

“You can reply to that e-mail and tell them I’m not going,” Switchblade said, his voice even and calm. His shoulders shook as he did his best to not lose it.

“WHAT!?” Ghost barked. He immediately stood from his chair and stomped over to the older bot. “No! You can’t-... This isn’t-... SB You have to-...!” He stumbled over his words in his panic.

“I don’t see why you care so much if I go or not,” Switchblade sharply said, turning away from Ghost.

Ghost grabbed the older bots by the shoulders and turned him around so quickly that Switchblade audibly gasped. “You can’t ruin this for me!” Ghost said. “I’ve worked too hard to build up this page!”

“Ruin what for you!” Switchblade replied, trying and failing to shake Ghost off. “This page is about me, not you!”

“I’ve spent months building this platform and it’s finally taking off!” Ghost snapped back, refusing to let go of the other bot. “If you reject this invitation, it could cause your page to lose followers!” He gave Switchblade a small jostle as if to shake some sense into him.

Both Frankie and Kuan were alarmed by the kerfuffle in their kitchen. Kuan looked about in confusion from all the shouting and Frankie sat stiff in his chair, unsure what to do. Neither said a thing when the two bots shouted at one another.

“S-So!” Switchblade spat. “Why should I care what happens to this stupid account? I don’t even want it to be active in the first place!”

“You’re such a heartless, old, rusty, stupid-” Ghost cried, talking over Switchblade. Neither bot seemed to be listening to the other anymore.

Frankie could see this was spiraling out of control. In one motion, he leaped from his seat and pulled the two arguing robots apart by the scruff of their necks. “Cool it, you two,” the rainbow bot scolded. “We’re going to get noise complaints!”

Switchblade was quick to shut his mouth. He glanced over at Kuan to see the sinner with her ears at half-mast and folded back a little. She normally only did this when she found a situation unappealing but was trying to be polite. His heart sunk immediately.

“But, Frankie!” Ghost whined.

Frankie rolled his eyes before pushing Ghost aside. He set his sights on Switchblade. “Listen, Rust Bucket, if you agree to go, you can come along with Fluffy and I,” he said with a strained smile. It was clear he wasn’t happy to be saying any of this.

This seemed to catch Switchblade a little off guard. His eyes shot over to Kuan once more and found that she too was intrigued by this. He looked back at Frankie with less anger and more interest now.

Frankie smiled a fake smile back at Switchblade. “A nice evening eating overpriced food with Fluffy does sound nice, doesn't it?” He nodded in the way you often do when you’re trying to convince someone of something.

Switchblade took a step away from Frankie and towards Kuan. His gears seemed to be turning now. He would do next to anything to spend time with Kuan, but would he go so far as to attend this Gala?

“It might be nice,” Kuan spoke up. “I know I’d enjoy your company Switchblade.”

The light fluttery feeling from before erupted from Switchblade’s chest. His resolve broke and before he could stop himself he said “Yeah, I guess I could go.”

Frankie’s lips curled in victory.

“So, you agree to go?” Ghost asked, pushing past Frankie.

“Only if I can stay close to Kuan,” Switchblade said. “I’m not comfortable going to this-”

“Of course, Kuan would be happy to have you with her the whole time!” Ghost said, cutting Switchblade off.

Frankie visibly jerked at this but said nothing. He leered at Ghost for only a moment before forcing a smile once more.

“Yes, she’d be more than happy to be your emotional support sinner,” Frankie said with a hint of mockery in his voice.

Switchblade leered at the other two bots before turning to Kuan. His expression softened as he twiddled his fingers. “I mean, only if it’s okay with you, Kuan,” he said, his tone soft and a little hesitant.

“Of course, Switchblade,” Kuan said with a gentle smile. “It would be so nice to have you along and I wouldn’t dream of leaving you on your own there.” Her ears were back to full mast and her fur had smoothed out.

“I guess I could go then,” Switchblade nodded. His body was still rather tense, but it seemed he made up his mind.

Ghost would have scoffed if he wasn’t worried Switchblade might take back his decision. Of course, he’d crumble if Kuan was involved. Why hadn’t he thought of that himself?

“Well, now that that’s been settled, we’ll leave you two to it,” Frankie said. He still wore a fake smile as he looped his arm around Ghost’s and dragged him to the door. “We can iron out the details later,” he called before leaving the kitchen.

Ghost didn’t struggle like he usually would when someone forced him out of a room. He was still in shock. He couldn’t believe Switchblade had agreed. A mix of excitement and jealousy swirled inside of him. How badly he wanted to go to this soiree himself. It wasn’t fair that Switchblade, someone who had no interest in this sort of thing, got to attend, but he had to stay home all night. It was so tragic that his excitement was quickly replaced with sorrow.

“Hey, what’s with the long face, Carbon?” Frankie asked upon seeing Ghost’s frown. They had arrived back in the living room. “I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am happy,” Ghost pouted, sitting down hard on the sofa. His tail gave a small zap as if to disagree with his statement.

Frankie sat beside him. He stretched his arm so that it went around Ghost’s shoulder but didn’t pull the transparent robot towards him. “Well, then, what’s with the pout?” he asked, mimicking the frown Ghost wore.

Ghost released a sharp huff through his snout. The kink in his tail sparked and zapped. “It’s just…” he started, his voice glitching a bit. “It will be the first year I don’t attend.”

Frankie gave a small understanding nod. His tail flicked playfully as his gears began to turn. “Hey, who said you can’t go?” He asked, smiling broadly.

Ghost looked at Frankie as if the rainbow bot was stupid. “I don’t have an invitation,” he curtly stated.

“I’m sure there are other ways to get you in, Ghostie,” Frankie snickered. “And with Switchblade distracted by the event, it wouldn’t be hard for you to sneak away and have your own fun without him noticing.”

It took Ghost a moment to get what Frankie was saying but when he did his frown quickly turned into a smile. “You mean, like, sneak in to the Gala?” He asked. His pumps sped up with excitement. A bright smile spread cross his face showing his shinning silver teeth.

Chapter 3: Hell’s Sweetheart

Chapter Text

“Hello, my lovely Fairies!” Sugar Plum’s high-pitched robotic voice sang as she twirled and danced in front of the camera. Pinching her thumbs and forefingers together to make small finger hearts, she struck her signature pose. She held her fingers close to her cheeks and winked. Her left foot flipped up and she held the pose for a few beats. It was something she always did when greeting her fans. They always ate it up.

She twirled her way closer to the camera and blew a kiss right into it. “It’s finally happening! The Heart of Pride Gala starts in just a few hours. I want to thank all of you, my lovely fairies, for voting on what I’d be wearing to the gala tonight.” She winked into the camera, scrunching up her snout. Her fans were able to vote on what she wore tonight if they paid an extra 150 souls along with their monthly fan club fee. Of course, the poles had been rigged and Sugar had simply chosen what she wanted to wear herself.

She took two twirls back to show off her outfit once more. The dress she chose for the gala summed up her whole persona. It was a frilly dress in her favorite colors of pastel pink and white. The pastel matched beautifully against the opalescent sheen of her body’s white finish. The cut of the dress was inspired by the dresses often seen on earth worn by female J-pop idols. The cute little outfit sat skintight around her chest and torso and was held up by frilly one-inch straps. Frills seemed to explode out from her hips in multiple layers of wavey lace. The skirt ended just shy of her thigh-high leggings that showcased her slender digitigrade robotic legs. Bows and ribbons were placed all over the dress. One large bouncy ribbon lay just above her tail, a few small ribbons lined the hem of her skirt, and where shoulder straps met the dress were two bedazzled bows. On her head was a long jester cap striped with lace. Its two long tails ended at her butt and were adorned with perfectly placed ribbons at the ends. The live chat went wild with comments such as:

“You’re always so cute!”

“I love that color on you!”

“Take it off!!!! Show us what’s hiding underneath.”

Sugar didn’t even bother to read the comments that didn’t sing her praise. With a bounce in her step and a smile on her face, she headed closer to the camera once more. Every ribbon on her body fluttered as if they were alive.

“I have another surprise for you, my Fairies?” Sugar sang in her lovely robotic voice. She stretched her arms off camera and when she reeled them back in, she held a very horrified queef in her arms. From head to tail, the poor dog was wearing a smaller version of Sugar’s outfit. “Look at how cute we are! We match!”

Sugar held the queef up against her cheek. The small dog’s whole body shook and quivered. One might think the dog was excited from all the attention it was receiving, but if anyone was looking closely, there was nothing but fear in the small dog’s green and red eyes. She was smaller than most other quieves with large floppy ears. Her body was majority white with blotches of dark gray over her eyes and along her back. If one were to look under the dress she wore, they’d find a rather cute splotch in the shape of a heart. Her size was small for even a queef so the outfit fit a little funny on her. The only thing about her that was normal sized were her large floppy ears that flapped about as Sugar manhandled her. On her collar was the name Pavola. If one were paying attention, they might realize this was the name on all the quieves Sugar carried around with her though never had she carried the same pup twice.

The comment section of the stream went wild with compliments once more.

“You both look so cute!”

“I want to pet you both!”

“Strip for us, Sugar!”

Once again, Sugar Plum only paid attention to the comments she found pleasing. She would block the users who submitted any comments she found even remotely distasteful.

“You’ll be able to see both of us tonight at the gala!” Sugar said, pressing the dog roughly against her opalescent cheek.

The small dog gave a squeak of pain that was ignored by Sugar and the live stream. Before any more could be said about the queef, the small animal was tossed off screen and sent flying. Fortunately for this queef, it made a soft landing on the sofa.

“I want to thank you all again for your amazing support!” Sugar said, smiling her sweetest of smiles. “May all your sugary sweet dreams come true and remember Sugar believes in you,” she said, her voice full of hope and cheer. This was how she always closed her live streams and live performances. As she spoke, Sugar struck her signature pose once again and held it for several moments. She tilted her head just so and smiled directly into the camera. She made sure her eye sparkled and shined in the way she knew her fan adored.

“Okay, we’re offline!” a tall slim jellyfish demon said in a no funny business tone. She sat at a desk with a computer in front of her. She had been monitoring Sugar’s live performance. The base of her body color was lavender with darker purple stripes running down her body. The cup of her jellyfish features neatly hung down from her head, ending at her shoulders and from it, her hair-like tendrils reached all the way down to her ankles. Everything about her was very neat and streamlined. She wore a suit that was tailored perfectly to her body and a pair of sharp triangular glasses were perched on her face. Her expression was just as sharp and serious as the rest of her.

Sugar’s sweet act dropped immediately as she made her way to her vanity mirror. “How many thirsty fools did I lure in this time, Coral?” Sugar asked. Her words were much sharper and harsh, but she kept up the high feminine singsong voice she always used, sounding nothing like the demon she was inspired by.

Coral, the Jellyfish demon, was Sugar’s manager. Her glowing eyes looked from Sugar to the computer screen. Her expression remained just as serious. “About 17k,” she replied. She used her arm-like tendril to adjust her glasses and looked up from the screen to Sugar.

Sugar now sat at her vanity fussing over the way her hat sat atop her head. She looked back at Coral in the mirror’s reflection. “How many more is that from the last livestream?”

“About 5,000 more,” Coral replied.

Sugar scowled at Coral’s reflection. “That’s all!? Just 5,000 more?”

“Well, this live stream was unadvertised and last minute,” Coral replied, her tone steady and matter-of-fact.

Sugar’s scowl turned into a pout. She fiddled more vigorously with her hat but it was more out of frustration than in actual intention to make it sit better on her head. “Stupid fans!” she grumbled. “It’s like they don’t even care about me. So many of them say that they’re always on the edge of their seats waiting for my next livestream and they don’t even show up. f*ck them all!”

Coral didn’t reply to this. She had worked with Sugar long enough to know it was best to just let the opalescent bot pitch her little fit. She knew this live was the best way to get Sugar’s fans hyped for the evening’s events. Most of them wouldn’t be attending the gala themselves, but they would likely show up to cheer Sugar on when they arrive at the venue. If the crowd cheering Sugar’s name was small, the frilly little bot would surely spiral into a bad mood and nobody wanted to deal with that.

“We have about 30 minutes before it’s time to leave,” Coral said, looking at the clock on the wall.

The room they were all in was Sugar’s bedroom. It was the master bedroom of Sugar’s penthouse apartment. The walls of the room were a powdery pink color with a bed that could comfortably sit 2 deadly sins. Pillows and stuffed animals were piled on the pastel purple bed. Above it was a dreamy pink canopy with glittering fairy lights lining its poles. Around the room were tall pearly white shelves filled with dolls, makeup, cute trinkets, and other adorable things Sugar took a liking to. The room’s floor was carpeted with a rose petal pink fluffy rug that was soft and luxurious. The whole room smelt of fresh spring flowers and was at just the right temperature to always feel comfortable enough to nap wherever you might be sitting.

Sugar sat at the vanity just beside the balcony entrance. The two reaching French doors made of glass revealed that it was a cold snowy evening in Pride. Light snowflakes fluttered down from the red late December sky. The pearly robot huffed at her manager as she gave up fiddling with her hat.

“You know how I feel about showing up too early,” Sugar said, turning her head just enough to glance at Coral and sticking her nose up. Her thin tail with its fluffy tuft at the end swayed sassily.

“Lord Leviathan has given orders that we don’t show up too late at tonight’s gala,” Coral replied with little room for argument. “You have 30 minutes before we go.”

Sugar didn’t argue back at this, but she did roll her eyes and released a dainty huff out of her nose. “I’m basically ready to go, so you can calm down,” she grumbled.

“I’ll come back to get you in twenty,” Coral said before curtly walking out the door.

Where her manager was going and what she was doing was no concern to Sugar. She had been Sugar’s manager for the past year and a half and had been the longest manager to stay with her. Most managers fled the job after a few months. Sugar told herself it was likely due to their weak will and not her incessant complaining and blow-out fits.

“Make sure Pavola is ready to go before Coral gets back,” Sugar barked to the other member of the room.

Standing beside the door was a tall hell-hound. She was Sugar’s twenty-four-hour bodyguard and even lived with Sugar in the smallest room in the apartment. They had refurbished a storage closet into a room. Pixie was the woman's name and she was quite the sight to see. She had long silky tan fur that hung from her ears and tail, long limbs perfect for running, and a thing elegant snout with the keenest of noses at the end. Looking like an Afghan hound, Pixie came from a long line of hell-hounds that were selected for these very features she had. Only a pure breed would do for Sugar’s bodyguard.

“As you wish,” Pixie said, heading to the bed to find the poor queef Sugar had tossed aside during her live stream.

Pixie found the small speckled queef taking refuge under a few pillows. The poor thing had trouble moving in all the clothes it had on, so when Pixie approached it, all it could do was cower. Very gently Pixie picked the puppy up from the pillows and held it securely to her chest. This wasn’t the first queef Sugar had sent flying during one of her lives and it likely wouldn’t be the last. It also wasn’t the first queef to go by the name Pavola. They all went by that name, actually, and when a Pavola went out of commission, usually due to Sugar’s neglect, a new one would be brought in to take its place. This pup had only been brought in yesterday and was already shaking with fear.

Sugar ignored both Pixie and the queef, as she carried on with fussing over her appearance. Now in front of her body-length mirror, she was twirling around to be sure her dress flowed just right when she twirled. It couldn’t lift too high and the ruffles had to flow like rolling waves. If anything was off she’d have to remove it all and find something else to wear. Fortunately for everyone in the apartment, the dress seemed to meet Sugar’s standards.

As the time ticked to 6:30 pm, the time Coral said they’d have to leave, Sugar carried on ignoring Pixie and the queef. It was almost like the two weren’t in the room with her. Even when Sugar posed questions such as “I wonder if that lousy Frankie will show up?” or “Should I maybe add a bit more sparkle to my eyes?” Pixie remained silent as the question wasn’t targeted toward her. If she had answered, Sugar would have likely snapped at her.

When the time came to leave, Coral entered the room and demanded they all go. Sugar, who was now feeling excited for the gala, danced her way out of the room. She didn’t wait for the other two to keep up, nor did she take the time to see if the other two were ready to go. She danced her robotic little butt right into the limousine and made herself comfortable in the largest of the seats.

Her other two companions took their time getting into the vehicle. They weren’t slow by any means, but Sugar quickly felt herself getting impatient. First Coral got on her case about not being late and then she took her time getting into the limo. Sugar had the right mind to shout at the woman, but she knew it would do no good. Her manager would likely lecture her for being a ‘brat’ in the open where Paparazzi could be hiding.

Coral sat on the other side of Sugar but didn’t pay the robot any attention. Instead, she tapped away on her tablet. By the door sat Pixie and in her lap was the small queef comfortably sound asleep. Somehow Pixie had gotten the poor thing to calm down.

“Once we get to the venue we will be led into the building by security. If we come across any notable demons who want a photo with you, we will have to oblige with no complaints,” Coral said, glancing up from her tablet to Sugar.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sugar said, giving her hand a careless wave. She sat pretty in her seat and fussed over her reflection in the limo’s window. “As long as they don’t touch me,” she added in a low grumble. The tuft of fluff at the end of her tail puffed out a little.

“No, drama,” Coral flatly said. “Even if they want to touch you! These are orders from Leviathan.”

“But what if they have grimy old hands and smell funny?” Sugar complained, her cheeks puffing up like a balloon. “You know how I feel about old people… and the younger drooling ones, too!”

Coral gave her head a small shake but mostly brushed off Sugar. “You’re meant to be Hell’s little starlight dreamer with a heart that is open to anyone and everyone, Sugar.”

“Yeah, but not to anyone that’s old, stinky, poor, a kid, has bad fashion taste, smiles too much…” the opalescent robot listed off.

“Sugar! All fans are welcome as long as they pay,” Coral curtly stated. “You do enjoy that apartment of yours and your holiday mansion in Envy, right?”

Sugar huffed another one of her high-pitched dainty grunts. She didn’t talk back to Coral but her tail gave a sassy flick. As far as she was concerned, her fans were as good as their wallets. They were lucky she liked her luxurious lifestyle because, if she had things her way, the ones she didn’t approve of would be burned alive.

Feeling a bit grumpy from being scolded, Sugar switched on the limo’s mini flat-screen TV. The music that had been playing over the speakers switched to play what was on the TV. She rapidly increased the volume until it became uncomfortably loud for the other two in the car. Sugar slouched down and scowled at the TV as she flipped through the channels. Soon she landed on a news channel that was covering the gala. Of course, the news crew wasn’t permitted inside the event, but they covered each and every guest as they arrived. Soon, Sugar Plum herself would be on the TV, doing one of her stilly little dances and blowing kisses to the camera.

“It looks like tonight’s event is going to be just as exciting as last year,” the succubus news anchor announced as they scanned several royal demons making their way into the venue.

Sugar paid very little to no attention to what the woman was saying as she approached one of the demons for an interview. The man was a Goecian Royal. Rotund and covered in a thick layer of brown feathers, the demon looked like a turkey perfect for your next holiday dinner. He fanned his beautiful tail feathers out to the point that it made it hard for others to pass by. Even the new anchor had to duck down as she tried to interview the man.

“It’s so good to see you attending this year’s Gala, Baron Benjamin,” the succubus said. It was clear the woman was less than enthusiastic about interviewing this particular demon but he had been the only one to stop for an interview.

“Oh, I am very delighted to be here,” Baron Benjamin said, holding his chest out proudly. “I wouldn’t miss it for all of Hell.”

The succubus nodded as she forced a smile. She stumbled a little as Baron Benjamin’s tail feathers got her from behind and almost sent her falling. “Who is it this year that you’ve invited to the Gala?” she asked.

Sugar didn’t pay a single ounce of attention to the interview on the screen. Instead, she was on her phone scrolling through photos of herself she had taken that afternoon while she was getting ready for the party. She thought it might be nice to post some of them on her Sinstagram. Her followers always ate up things like this and their comments of wishing they could be in her place always gave her life.

She found a cute photo of herself wearing her fluffy pastel yellow robe. In her hands were two dresses, the one she was wearing and another one that was far more bedazzled. She smiled into the camera, shrugging as if she simply couldn’t make up her mind. The next photo was a behind shot. She sat at her pearly white vanity as several beauticians dolled her up. You could see a relaxed smile on her face in the reflection of the mirror. The final photo she chose was a selfie she had taken just before jumping into the limo. She promptly posted all three of the photos with the caption “Living the fab life!”

Sugar gave a sharp jolt as the very raspy voice of The One and Only Fizzarolli played over the limo’s speaker. She hiss audibly before looking from her phone to the TV. It took her a moment to realize that news had gone to commercials. She was greeted by the smiling face of the jester imp himself, the very imp she was meant to be fashioned after. Not even two seconds passed before she shut off the TV. She hated everything about Fizzarolli. From his crooked smile to his stupid jokes to his choice of men, everything about Fizzarollio was the worst, but what she hated most of all was his voice. His raspy ear-grading voice with his stupid vomit-inducing laugh. She did everything in her power to make sure she never sounded like him ever!

Sugar was visibly fuming. This was how she always got when she was jumpscared by Fizzarolli. Her tail was stiff and her eyes glowed with fury. Neither Coral nor Pixie said a word. They knew better than to try and calm the robot down. Even the small queef had awoken from her nap and now hid her little face in the crook of Pixie’s arm.

Without a word, Coral pressed a button beside her. From the floor shot up a table and on it was a bucket full of ice with a champagne bottle in it and a place with s few dainty finger sandwiches. Sugar gave a small start at the sudden appearance of the table. When her eyes landed on the champagne her anger was soon replaced with delights. She looked from the bottle to Pixie.

Pixie nodded before gently placing the queef onto the seat beside her. The poor dog was not happy at all by this development and visibly shook on the spot. She tried to hop back into Pixie’s lap but the large Hellhound very gently placed her on the seat once more.

“Hurry it up!” Sugar snapped, causing the small queef to fall into a panic. Coral peaked over her glasses at Pixie. With impatience in her eyes, she gave her head a tilt towards the champagne bottle.

Pixie sent the poor dog a very sad frown before leaving it to attend to Sugar. She’d be back in no time and could comfort the dog once more. Hunched over, she picked up the bottle. With a loud POP, she pried the cork out of the bottle and poured a flute of it for the robot. With a very dainty touch, Sugar took the glass from Pixie before waving her away. Pixie returned to her seat without question. Almost right away, the speckled queef lept into her lap. Pixie stroked its back and let it burrow its head into the crook of her arm once more. All the while, Sugar and Coral ignored the two.

Sugar sipped at her drink as if she hadn’t just been on the verge of ripping the limo apart. Her tail was now relaxed with the fluffy tip of it swishing happily. She even took a quick photo of herself with the champagne bottle in hand.

‘On my way!’ she wrote before posting the photo. She smiled in absolute joy as the likes immediately spilled in. Her body filled with validation as she watched that little number grow.

“So, it sounds like another Robo Fizz will be attending the Gala tonight,” Coral said, peeking over her tablet at Sugar.

“What? You mean that rainbow nightmare?” Sugar asked, giving her hat a flip as if it were hair.

“No, I’m not talking about Frankie,” Coral replied, placing her tablet on her lap. “Though I do believe he will also be attending with that sinner of his.”

Sugar’s snout scrunched up like she smelled something bad. “So a third Robot will be there?” she asked. She didn’t like the idea of having to share her spotlight with another robot and since this one seemed to be so new they’d likely be receiving attention.

Coral nodded.

“Who!?” Sugar spat. Her tail gave an aggressive thwap. There was an angry humming emitting from her chest.

While Coral knew it wasn’t good for Sugar to get this upset before a public appearance, she also knew it would be even more disastrous if she came across this robot on her own at the event. She tapped away at her tablet and pulled up the Sinstagram page of said robot. She then passed it over to Sugar.

Sugar snatched up the tablet right away. With fire in her eyes, she scanned the page. All she found were images upon images of homemade foods. Her anger slowly turned to confusion. “This is all just food,” she said, co*cking her head as she looked at Coral.

“Food made by that Robotic Fizzarolli,” Coral nodded.

Sugar looked back at the page but not once did she see a picture of a robot. It was all just food.

“Over 10,000 followers!? How do people know a Robo Fizz made any of this?” Sugar asked, scrolling up and down the page. “I smell a fake!”

Coral adjusted her glasses as she kept her composure. “Apparently, there used to be photos of the bot up on the Sinstagram page, but they’ve all been taken down.” She reached her hand out for the tablet.

“But how? Who cares about a bot that can cook?” Sugar scoffed, handing the tablet over. “How did this loser even become famous enough to get an invitation?”

“Well, people do love food, Sugar,” Coral said as she tapped away at her tablet. “Just last month he was discovered by Jeffrey, that cannibal chef who comes on the news sometimes. His page took off after that.” She passed the tablet back to Sugar.

Once more Sugar snatched up the tablet. She looked at the screen to see none other than Switchblade in his ratty old pink apron taking a blueberry pie out of an oven. The robot had a content smile on his face and there was something comforting and domestic about the photo.

“Is that him?” Sugar asked, looking absolutely disgusted.

Coral nodded. She had found it on another Sinstagram page pretending to be the bot.

“He is so old,” Sugar spat. “Is he a generation one bot or something?”

“I think he might be a generation two bot,” Corra corrected.

“But who’d want to follow an old broken bot like this?” Sugar seethed. “There are demons all over the net that cook and post pictures of their lousy food.”

“From what I’ve researched, some people follow him for his food and others are more interested in his model. It’s not common to see such an old Robo Fizz in such good condition after all,” Coral said matter-of-factly. “The generation two bots also had a limited release back then so there aren’t as many as other generations.”

“Who cares if his line had a limited run,” Sugar said with a pout. “Old robots should be thrown into a dump.”

“Some people are into older technology,” Coral said. “In fact, just a day or so ago Vox started following this bot.”

“What? Vox?” Sugar gasped, almost falling from her chair. He was one of the most powerful overlords she knew of. He hadn’t so much as batted an eye at her content, yet here he was liking the crap this bot made.

“He might have an interest in the robot’s model,” Coral said with a shrug. She remained cool and even despite Sugar’s anger. “I’ve heard he is a collector of such things.”

Sugar released a sharp huff out of her snout. “Stupid grandpa bot!”

“Well, I’m sure he won’t be too much of a problem for us,” Coral said, taking back her tablet. “He’s involved with cooking and baking. That has nothing to do with what interests us.”

Sugar nodded but still wore a frown. “I guess.” She took a sip of her champagne and continued to scowl at nothing. There were several moments of seething silence from the bot before she spoke again. “At least that f*cking useless eyesore Diamond is dead” she mumbled cracking a smile.

Coral nodded in agreement though she really never cared much for the strange grudges Sugar had when it came to other bots.

“At least this year we won’t have to worry about him contaminating the dessert table,” Sugar carried on. She had always hated Diamond. From his loud mouth to his showboating golden body, she had despised him from the day they met.

“His antics always were unsightly,” Coral said with a shake of her head. She also shared a disdain for the golden bot as well.

“Whoever did him in really did us all a favor,” Sugar said with a little giggle. “I wish I could’ve been there to see him getting ripped apart.” As she spoke she ripped apart one of the finger sandwiches. She was slow to tear the bread and grinned as the ham and cheese from inside dangled out in jagged pieces. She giggled with glee as she sprinkled the torn remains onto the table. “I wish I could have been a part of that. I wonder if he would have begged for mercy but there wouldn’t have been any.”

The small queef in Pixie’s lap quivered in fear. The pup looked up at the hellhound holder her, seeking reassurance. Perhaps she was picking up on Sugar’s blood lust. Pixie stroked the dog’s back and gently hushed her. The hellhound had been the only one of the three to have an opinion about Diamond.

“Oh, how I wish I could’ve seen the fear in his eyes in his last moments,” Sugar growled, her voice becoming deeper and raspier than normal. She was on the way to returning to her default vocal.

“Sugar,” Coral said, her tone stern. “We will be arriving soon. Did you review the documentation of all who will be attending the Gala tonight?” The jellyfish demon knew better than to let Sugar carry on down this road of murderous thoughts.

Sugar’s bloodlust swiftly turned into sass. Like a disgruntled teenager, she slouched back in her seat. “Yeah, yeah. I read it all,” she mumbled. She had left the document back in her room. but she wasn’t lying when she said she had reviewed it.

Knowing the ins and outs of the upper class was something Sugar studied like a subject in school. Whether it be a Hell-born royal or an overlord, Sugar knew who was important and who wasn’t worthy of her time. Before each event Coral would provide her with a list of attendees and Sugar would then make a list of who she would schmooze first and who would be the last priority. The pastel bot might often treat the task like homework, but she was proud of her ability to know who had power and who was riding on Grandpa’s coattail with a simple glance.

“Now, no getting into spats with anyone tonight,” Coral said, her tone still that of a parent. “Leviathan has asked that tonight goes smoothly for us. He commands that you show everyone the grace and love that is Sugar Plum, got it.”

Sugar grumbled under her breath as she sipped at her champagne. She knew what her brand was. As long as the other two bots attending the party kept their distance and none of the less savory guests tried to talk to her for too long, things would be fine. Being the sweet charming Sugar Plum Hell knew was something she could turn on and off at any moment if she wanted to.

“No drama, got it!” Coral said.

“Yeah, whatever” Sugar huffed. In her opinion, drama was fun. It got people talking and interested in you. It was good publicity, but if Leviathan wanted her to have a drama-free evening, she’d have to deliver.

The rest of the drive went mostly uneventful. Sugar preoccupied herself with her phone and glass of champagne while her manager fiddled away on her tablet. Even Pixie and the queef settled in and finally relaxed. Likely for the two it would be their only moment of relaxation for the rest of the night.

When they arrived to the venue the large crowds of demons they had seen on the news had only grown. Sugar felt a rush run through her system as she caught sight of them out her window. She could already hear them calling her name and singing her praises. She took a moment to warm up her voice and practice her smile as they waited their turn to pull up to the red carpet. She felt antsy with the need to take the spotlight.

The wait wasn’t long. Sugar was never the first to arrive at any event. She couldn’t help but make others wait for her and everyone knew it was unsightly to come across too eager. She wasn’t new to fame. In fact, she was born into it. These rules were ingrained in her from the first day she was booted up.

Sugar didn’t speak a single word to the other two in the limo. They pulled up for their turn to arrive and both Pixie and Coral scooted out of the way so Sugar could easily slip out onto the red carpet. Sugar fluffed up her skirt, ripped the scared queef from Pixie’s arms, and practically kicked the door open.

Sugar could barely hear her name being announced over the cheering crowd. Flashes of light blinded her as she took her first steps down the carpet. She shined her bright smile and twirled herself and the queef before striking her signature post. As the robot pinched her thumbs and index fingers to make small hearts, she wound her arms around the poor dog’s middle causing it to yelp in pain. Unfortunately, the small queef’s cries could not be heard over the cheering crowd.

Spinning and twirling her way down the carpet, she stopped only to sign autographs and take pictures with the fans she found worthy. It was far too loud for anyone to hear what Sugar was saying, but she made an effort to sing any time she spoke. Behind her were Corla and Pixie. The hellhoud made sure to keep an eye on any overly enthused fans. Wearing a very stern frown, Coral checked over their itinerary for the evening. Sugar was due to perform at some point and would spend the rest of the evening shmoozing with the guests on a list of attendees Leviathan had given them.

When Sugar got to the end of the carpet she struck her signature post once more. She winked and blew kisses to the crowd. With Sugar’s arm now around her neck, the little queef cried in pain again but no one seemed to notice.

Chapter 4: Fish Out of Water: Part 1

Chapter Text

Switchblade’s hands shook as he whipped up the vanilla buttercream frosting for his lemon-curd-filled cupcakes. He was told he needed to bring some sort of item to the gala to showcase what he does. Of course, he had no clue what that meant, and Frankie and Ghost didn’t elaborate much. So Switchblade was left to figure it out for himself and figure it out, he did. He hadn’t made Kuan cupcakes in a while so he thought they were as good as anything. Ghost had also told him his cupcakes often got the most interaction so he figured it would work out well.

The older robot was finding that as the clock ticked closer to the hour that Kuan and Frankie would come and pick him up, the more nervous he felt. He didn’t much care for what people thought of him or his cupcakes. What was making him shake at the fingers was the general idea of being around so many powerful demons. He was just one very generic Robotic Fizzarolli against a whole room of Royals and Overlords, that could do whatever they wished with him and he wouldn’t be able to stop them. Some of them were likely close to Mammon as well and that alone sent a shiver through Switchblade’s metal body.

Ghost and Frankie had confirmed time and time again that the only Sin who might attend the party was King Lucifer, and that was a very skeptical might. The other Sins rarely ever came. They were too busy in their own rings celebrating the end of the year with their citizens. It comforted him to know that King Lucifer wasn’t on good terms with Mammon. If he were to figure out who Switchblade was and Olivia’s operation, he likely wouldn’t care much to tell Mammon. It was one reason why Switchblade felt so comfortable living in the Pride Ring. It was one of the few places in hell Mammon couldn’t reach them easily.

As Switchblade worked he did his best to keep calm and not think about all the things that could go wrong tonight. He was just a generic Robo Fizz, right? There was nothing extraordinary about him besides the food he made and cooking is something most demons could do. All he needed to do was just blend in, keep to the sidelines, and not be noticed. It wouldn’t be that hard. Most days people didn’t even look his way when he was out and about. Why would tonight be any different?

Switchblade was less than relaxed despite his best efforts. He fumbled around the kitchen more than ever as he prepared the frosting to be piped. Powdered sugar, butter, and splotches of food coloring littered the kitchen counter. His apron was a multi-colored mess and his sleeves were wet and slippery with butter. He hadn’t been this out of sorts in the kitchen in over eight years.

With the counter looking a mess and Switchblade far too focused to take notice of it, he went right into frosting the cupcakes and piping the floral details. Pink and purple roses with small yellow and black honeybees were his inspiration for the cupcakes. Perhaps the theme wasn’t appropriate for winter but it did match well with the flavor of the cupcakes. He knew Kuan’s favorite cupcake flavor was lemon so even though winter had only just started, he went ahead and made lemon curd vanilla cupcakes.

“Yikes! What happened in here?” Ghost said as he sauntered into the kitchen. He had been banished to his loft in the morning due to him trying to micromanage what Switchblade baked for the gala.

Switchblade’s shoulders went stiff and his grip on the piping bag tightened. “I thought I told you not to bother me,” Switchblade grumbled as he messed up the pipping of a pink rose.

“I just came down to see what was taking so long,” Ghost said, entering further into the kitchen. Normally he’d take a seat at his kitchen table chair but today he walked past it. “They’re going to be here soon to get you and you aren’t even dressed!” He had his hands on his hips as he waited for Switchblade’s explanation. The kink in his tail sparked loudly showing off just how short his temper was.

“It’s not going to take me that long to get dressed, Ghost,” Switchblade shortly replied as he scrapped the botched flower from the cupcake to try again. “Now leave me alone!”

Ghost blatantly ignored Switchblade’s request and instead stomped over to the kitchen counter. With a scowl on his face, he quietly counted the cupcakes that were all set out to be decorated. “Wait. Thirteen? Where are the rest?” he asked, sharply looking at Switchblade. Hit tail whipped, sparking loudly.

Switchblade turned himself so that his back was facing Ghost as best he could. “This is it,” he grumbled.

“Just thirteen cupcakes?” Ghost practically shouted. His eyes twitched as he lost the ability to speak.

Switchblade shrugged but didn’t look at Ghost. “It’s just to showcase my talent,” he replied, his voice awkward and smaller than normal. He honestly had no clue what he was doing.

“SB, there are going to be more than just thirteen guests at this party,” Ghost said, his tone nagging and naisaly. “How in Lucifer’s name are you going to showcase anything with just thirteen cupcakes?”

“Well, you didn’t tell me that I needed to feed the whole f*cking gala,” Switchblade defensively replied. “That would have been nice to know days ago!?”

“I thought it was obvious you would need more than just thirteen cupcakes!” Ghost shot back. “It’s common sense!!!”

“No, it’s not,” Switchblade quickly replied. “How was I supposed to know when I’ve never been to one of these things!?”

Ghost grumbled, fumbling over his words. His tail zapped once more, this time he was close enough to Switchblade that he caused the older bot to give a small jump. He scanned the cupcakes that Switchblade had finished and chose his favorite one to take a photoshoot of. Switchblade didn’t stop him because, at this point, he knew what the transparent bot was up to.

“I’ll be done here soon,” Switchblade said, his tone less defensive now. “So you can stop your worrying.”

Ghost didn’t reply as he snapped shots of the cupcake. It would be a small teaser photo for Switchblade’s ever-growing follower count. He had to make sure to hype them up for tonight’s event as well. Even though Switchblade made it clear he didn’t want to stand out tonight, the gala was all about standing out. The old rusty bot would just have to deal with it. Perhaps a small number of cupcakes would make Switchblade far more appealing to the foodies at the party. Supply and demand could be a very strong thing.

Just as promised, Switchblade finished his decorating and put the cupcakes in a box with more than enough time to dress himself. The gala was a black-tie event and Ghost had made it 100% clear that Switchblade would have to dress accordingly. A tux or a ballgown were his only options. Fortunately for Switchblade, he had found a decent old worn tux on one of their treasure-hunting outings. Olivia had taken the time to spruce it up for him so that he could wear the old thing tonight but still fit the dress code and not go bankrupt. There was no way they’d have been able to afford anything more regardless.

“Switchblade, I have finished mending the lapel on your coat,” Olivia said, entering the kitchen with his whole outfit hanging over her arm. “Shall we try it on once more to make sure it fits you well?”

Switchblade had just closed the lid of the cupcake box as Olivia entered the room. He looked at the clock before glancing at Ghost as if to say ‘I told you I’d finish with enough time.”

“They’re going to be here in fifteen minutes,” Ghost snapped, scowling at Switchblade.

Switchblade ignored Ghost and turned his attention to Olivia. “I’m sure it’s fine but I better get it on before Ghost self-distructs.”

Ghost sneered at Switchblade before opening the lid of the cupcake box to snap some more photos for Sinstagram.

“Oh, Switchblade, this is so exciting for you,” Olivia said as she passed the old worn tuxedo to the bot. “I once dreamed of being invited to this very event,” she sighed with a dreamy look in her eye. Back when she was going to school for fashion she had dreamed of showcasing her work there. “I suppose this is as close as I’ll get to showing off my work there. I hope it’s enough.”

“I’m sure it’s perfectly fine,” Switchblade said, sorting the clothing out in his arms. In reality, he had no idea what would be considered appropriate and what would cause him to stand out.

Ghost scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. He had tried to warn the two that an old tuxedo from some rich guy’s trashcan wasn’t going to cut it. Switchblade would just have to learn the hard way. He busied himself with posting another update to the Sinstagram page. He was feeling rather excited for none other than the Overlord, Vox had just started following the account last night. It had caused the account to skyrocket even more. He had no clue the technological overlord was also a foody. Of course, he didn’t speak a word of this to Switchblade. If he found out someone like Vox had started following the account he might back out of the gala.

Switchblade excused himself to the workroom to change into his outfit for the night. The last thing he needed was for Ghost to make snide comments about his old frame. It didn’t take him long to get dressed and was soon back in the kitchen for Olivia to finish altering it in any way it needed to be.

When he entered the kitchen the first thing he heard was the sound of Ghost choking on absolutely nothing. He leered over to see Ghost looking quite horrified. Olivia on the other hand, smiled brightly at Switchblade.

“You look so handsome,” Olivia cooed.

Ghost gagged once more before growling. He couldn’t disagree anymore. Switchblade looked like a hot mess.

The tux itself was a faded black, not because of the fabric being that color but from wear and tear. Any and every hole had been patched up with little colorful patches that did not match the old faded jacket. Any stain that had been present on the tux had been scrubbed out leaving slightly grayer patches behind. Switchblade’s black pants had received a very similar treatment leaving him looking like a patched-together doll. Under the patchwork suit, he wore what was once a pure white button-up shirt that was now off-white and contained sweat stains that were mostly covered by the coat. Around his neck was a red velvet bowtie that Olivia had made completely by hand. On his head was an all black jester cap with little red star charms at the end that had also been hand-sewn by Olivia.

Switchblade didn’t mind that he looked like he had just crawled out of someone’s pile of scrap fabric. It was just an outfit and a tuxedo was a tuxedo even if it had several patches of mismatched fabric. All he cared about was being mostly left alone at the event. Perhaps the old worn outfit would ward people off.

“They aren’t going to let you in, wearing that,” Ghost grumbled under his breath. He had already argued about it with Switchblade earlier but couldn’t stop himself from making his point clear. “You look like a ragdoll reject.”

Switchblade barely acknowledged Ghost at this point. It wasn’t like it really mattered to him. In fact, being turned away at the door sounded like a good thing.

“Imagine how embarrassed Kuan is going to be having to be around you dressed like that,” Ghost said. He smiled wickedly when he saw the sudden worry in Switchbade’s eyes. He saw the older bot’s eyes inspect his reflection in the dust full length mirror Ghost had placed in the kitchen.

A strange buzz of worry began to build in Switchblade’s chest. This hadn’t crossed his mind. The last thing he wanted to do was cause trouble for Kuan. He had made such a big fuss about wanting to spend the whole gala with her, yet he hadn’t stopped to think that his choice of clothes and attitude could be an issue for her. A sudden overwhelming guilt overcame him.

Just as Switchblade’s guilt hit its max, the doorbell rang. His eyes stayed glued on his reflection as he realized just how horrible he looked. Embarrassment overcame him.

Ghost’s smile grew as he saw the worry grow in Switchblade. “I f*cking told you, asshole. But now it’s too late.”

Olivia had headed for the door the moment it rang. She didn’t seem to pick up on Switchblade’s distress. The sound of her greeting Kuan and Frankie reached the two bots in the kitchen. Suddenly, Switchblade felt the need to hide under the table.

Ghost seemed to pick up on the older bot’s distress and switched gears really fast. It was fun to heckle Switchblade and watch him panic but not if it resulted in him backing out of the gala. “Hey, i-it’s actually not that bad,” Ghost said, his words blatantly forced. He came up beside Switchblade and forced a smile.

“HOLY f*ck!” Frankie spat. The second he set foot in the kitchen he caught sight of Switchblade. “Is that, Old Rust Bucket under all those rags!?”

Very quickly Ghost shot him a glare and hiss at him to shut up.

Switchblade nearly jumped out of his pants. He looked at Frankie for only a second before turning his attention to Kuan. The blind sinner smiled pleasantly at him. She wore a beautiful red and gold modern qipao that matched her light gray fur beautifully. The top hugged against her curves in a modest way, sleeves ending just below her elbow, very proper and graceful. The gold stitching of the qipao was elegantly made to look like koi swimming between delicate lotuses. The bottom part of her dress flowed down in waves of light red satin that gave the illusion of her gliding across the floor. Little golden beads and baubles embellished the gown she wore, from her whiskers to her hair and even her slender wispy tail.

Upon seeing the beautiful sinner, Switchblade realized he had absolutely f*cked up.

“Hello, Switchblade. Ghost,” Kuan greeted.

Switchblade simply couldn’t find his voice so all that came out was a very glitched “Hi”.

Switchblade looked Frankie and Kuan up and down. Frankie was dressed in a colorful perfectly tailored tuxedo with leopard spots and tiger stripes that matched the design and color of his rainbow jester cap perfectly. His black pants and black undershirt worked perfectly to not overdo the vibrancy of his outfit. Kuan in her elegant dress and Frankie in his snazzy tux only made Switchblade feel ten times worse about his outfit of choice.

Switchblade didn’t speak still. His voice was nowhere to be found. He held the stance of a cat that was about to take refuge under a car.

While Kuan wasn’t able to see what was going on around her, she was able to pick up on the awkward atmosphere. Her ears swiveled this way and that like the antennas of an ant as her head searched the room. From the tense way Frankie and Ghost spoke to the faint buzzing of fear admitted from Switchblade, it was clear to her that everything was not okay.

“Switchblade here just finished dressing,” Olivia said with a light-hearted smile. She seemed to be the only one in the room who wasn’t picking up on his large amounts of stress and worry. “You’re all done with the cupcakes you made, right, Switchblade?”

Switchblade jumped at the sound of his own name. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He shook his head but was quickly grabbed around the shoulder by Ghost.

“He’s a-okay!” Ghost insisted. “Just so excited he can barely speak. I don’t blame you, SB!”

“I am NOT going to the gala with him dressed like that!” Frankie loudly said, stomping his way towards Switchblade and Ghost. “He looks like a ragdoll reject,” he snickered.

“That’s what I said!” Ghost added with a snicker of his own but quickly silenced himself as he looked over to Switchblade.

A rattling mix of anger and embarrassment was building in Switchblade. The older bot tried to pull away from Ghost but was soon also captured by Frankie as well. He struggled between the two but failed to free himself.

“I think he looked rather charming,” Olivia said, looking a little insulted. She had been the one to piece together the outfit after all.

“Frankie, don’t be rude,” Kuan scolded, her ears now flat atop her head.

“But it’s true!” Frankie scoffed.

“Just be happy you can’t see him,” Ghost agreed. He now had Switchblade in a headlock.

“I’m not-” Switchblade started only to find Frankie’s hand around his mouth. Immediately, Switchblade’s struggle became more violent and desperate.

“Now, there’s no time for idle chitchat,” Frankie loudly said over the older bot’s struggle. “We can freshen up old ragdoll here on the way over to the gala!”

With his voice muffled, Switchblade’s cries of distress were misunderstood as excitement by Olivia. “Don’t forget the cupcakes,” she said, pointing to the box. “And have a splendid time, Switchblade.”

Ghost was quick to pick up the box of cupcakes as Frankie dragged Switchblade towards the door. He quickly followed after the other two bots, swiftly pushing past Kuan and Olivia. All the while Kuan stood in the kitchen looking downright distressed.

“I haven’t seen Switchblade this lively in ages,” Olivia said, taking Kuan by the arm to guide her to the front door. “Thank you so much for offering to take him to the gala.”

Kuan’s ears were pressed flat against her head. Her fur was as fluffed up as it could be. The braid hanging from her head was as stiff and rigid as her tail. “I-Is he excited?” She reluctantly asked Olivia. It was clear she didn’t seem to be reading the situation the same.

“I’ve never seen him this active in my life!” Olivia said with a nod. She smiled at Kuan as they left the apartment. There was a hesitance in Kuan as she followed Olivia. The dragon sinner was not so convinced.

Switchblade didn’t fight Frankie nearly as aggressively as he might have if he hadn’t been so out of sorts. Almost robotically, he allowed the rainbow bot to drag him out of the apartment and down the many flights of stairs. What did Frankie mean by freshen him up? Did he have an outfit change for him in the limousine? Was Frankie, the robot who hated his very existence, really going to help him?

When they got to the limo Frankie snapped at the driver to open the door. Without so much as a warning, he shoved Switchblade in and slammed the door shut. Like a sack of potatoes, Switchblade tumbled across the floor only stopping when he hit the other end of the vehicle. It took him a solid twenty seconds to orient himself and another 20 seconds to realize he had been locked in the car alone. He stumbled to the door to find that it had been locked from the outside. From the window Frankie peered in, wagging his finger no.

“Just hold tight, Ragdoll. We’ll be joining you in a moment,” Switchblade heard Frankie shout from the other side of the door.

Switchblade watched in confusion as Frankie made his way to Ghost. From inside the limousine, he couldn’t hear what was being said. He tried the door handle once more but the door didn’t budge. It likely had some sort of child lock set to keep him in. His panic soon mixed with anger. He should have fought off Frankie when he had the chance. He scowled at Frankie and Ghost as the two smiled and spoke to one another. At one point they even looked his way and laughed.

When Kuan and Olivia finally join them, Ghost passes the box of cupcakes to Frankie. Olivia led Kuan to the door, helping her open it to get in. Switchblade had half a mind to rush out but knew that if he did so now, he’d likely knock Kuan over. Instead, he tried to compose himself before Kuan joined him in the limo.

“Switchblade, are you okay?” Kuan asked the moment the door opened. Switchblade had no clue how but the sinner seemed keenly aware that he was unhappy.

“Don’t worry, Switchblade,” Olivia called from the door. “You’re going to have a wonderful night and Kuan insists that she will drop you back off here with more than enough time for us to evacuate before the extermination on the first,” Olivia said casually as she helped Kuan into the car.

“What!?” Was Switchblade’s reply. He had been so preoccupied with this gala that he had forgotten all about the extermination due in less than a day.

“My sister will be here to pick us up tomorrow morning so enjoy your night out,” Olivia explained with one of her large good-natured smiles. Her little sister, who also lived in Pride, took Oliva and the two bots to Greed every New Year’s Eve to avoid the heavenly extermination.

“Yeah, Yeah! Let’s get a move on before we’re late,” Frankie snapped, shoving Olivia aside and scrambling into the limo. He placed the box of cupcakes on the seat beside him before slamming the door shut.

“What the f*ck! You could’ve hurt her!” Switchblade snapped, checking out the window to make sure Olivia was fine. The jester demon looked a little frazzled but not upset. Behind her Ghost has his eyes fixed on the limousine. He likely wished to be going along with them. Switchblade was kind of shocked by how little complaining Ghost did about not coming along. In fact, Ghost didn’t complain at all about being left behind.

“She’s fine!” Frankie said. He then sent Ghost a stern look causing the transparent bot to swiftly advert his eyes.

“What?” Switchblade asked as the engine of the limo revved on.

Frankie didn’t answer Switchbade’s question but instead grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him closer. “This outfit is a nightmare,” he said with a disapproving scowl.

“Frankie, stop speaking that way to Switchblade,” Kuan scolded. “He’s already out of his element as it is, so please be more sensitive!”

“Cool your jets, Fluffy, he isn’t a porcelain doll,” Frankie said, his voice a low grumble.

“I-I’m fine,” Switchblade somehow choked out. By the glitch in his voice, he most definitely was not fine. Still sitting on the floor of the limo, he almost fell face-first into Kuan’s lap when the vehicle hit a rather deep pothole. Feeling embarrassed, he climbed his way onto the long seat across from Frankie. Before he could so much as rest his back against the cushioned backrest, he was pulled from his seat back to the floor.

“No resting yet, old man!” Frankie said. He was now out of his seat, too. On the floor beside him was a black duffle bag. “Give us a turn,” he commanded Switchblade, motioning with his finger for the older bot to spin around.

Switchblade did not turn but instead scowled at Frankie.

“Frankie, what are you doing?” Kuan asked, letting slip a soft disapproving growl for the tone the rainbow bot took with Switchblade.

“I told ya, I’m freshening up old rust bucket here!” Frankie defensively replied. “You don’t want to know what he’s wearing. I refuse to be seen next to him and I refuse to have you be seen next to him, too, Fluffy. His outfit is a nightmare. It’s-”

“Okay, okay!” Switchblade shouted over Frankie. The last thing he needed was for Kuan to change her mind about being with him tonight. He glanced over to find Kuan looking concerned. He gave himself a quick spin, not making eye contact with Frankie as he did so.

“Do it again, but this time slower!” Frankie said, giving his finger a twirl once more. He seemed more thoughtful now and less snide.

Switchblade rolled his eyes but did as he was told. He slowly spun himself around and kept spinning until Frankie prompted him to stop. He supposed the rainbow bot was trying to figure out how to save his mess of an outfit. It left Switchblade feeling a bit bad since Olivia had put so much effort into fixing these old clothes up for him but at the same time, even Switchblade could see he was a mess. If it had just been him going out alone in this, he likely wouldn’t have cared but the idea of embarrassing Kuan was something he simply didn’t want to think about.

It was on Switchblade’s fourth spin that Frankie’s hands shot out and ripped the coat from the older bot’s body. The action was so forceful it caused Switchblade to spin rapidly like a top before crumbling to the floor. The room whirled in his head as he heard the disapproving ‘tisk’ of Frankie.

“This simply has to go! It’s absolutely hideous. What was that woman thinking putting this fugly thing on you and sending you to the Gala!?” Frankie said mostly to himself. He sent the offensive piece of clothing a snarl.

“Switchblade, are you okay?” Kuan asked, her ears twisting back and forth as she tried to pinpoint where the bot had fallen. When she located his general direction she reached her hand out for him to take.

“I’m fine,” Switchblade said, taking Kuan’s paw and standing himself up. His gears spun and he stumbled as the limo went over another pothole.

“Jeeze, you’re such a drama queen, old man,” Frankie said, snickering at how frazzled Switchblade was over a simple wardrobe change. He couldn’t believe they had been based on the same demon.

Switchblade sneered at Frankie but said nothing as he took the seat beside Kuan. The Sinner helped him settle in, making sure he didn’t topple over. Switchblade took the opportunity to sit closer to Kuan and relax for the first time that day.

Frankie looked up from the duffel bag he was rummaging in and sneered at the closeness the two exhibited. “Do it for him,” he grumbled to himself so only he could hear. Despite his disdain for how close Kuan was with the older bot, it was imperative that Switchblade not only look nice but also that he didn’t back out of the gala.

“What did you make to showcase at the Gala today?” Kuan asked once Switchblade was settled. It was likely her way of helping the older bot relax. “I can smell lemon,” she said, her ears perking up with interest.

“They’re vanilla cupcakes filled with lemon curd,” Switchblade said, his voice a bit calmer now that he was sitting beside Kuan.

Frankie gagged from his seat, not because he didn’t like vanilla cupcakes and lemon curd but because he hated the way Kuan smiled at Switchblade.

“That sounds delightful,” Kuan said. Her paintbrush-braided hair gently brushed against Switchblade’s arm.

Switchblade felt a light joyful flutter run through his circuits. “If you like, you can have one.”

“No!” Frankie cut in sounding very much like a mother vetoing a bad idea. “Ghost already told me you only made a dozen of those things! What made you think a dozen was going to be enough to showcase your work tonight, old man!?” he asked. He looked at Switchblade as if he were the dumbest creature on the planet.

“I had no clue how many I was supposed to make,” Switchblade snapped, peeking around Kuan to leer at Frankie. “If there was a certain number I was meant to make then maybe you and Ghost should have told me!” The bot glared at his rainbow counterpart. “And besides, it’s a baker’s dozen.”

“He does have a point, Frankie dear,” Kuan nodded, her nose wrinkled to show her unease. “This is Switchblade’s first ever event like this. It’s not fair to judge him so harshly on something he’s never experienced. You and Ghost should have been a bit more informative if you all were so keen on pushing him to go.”

A growl was building deep within Frankie’s voicebox but he fought it back. Instead, he reached into the duffle bag and threw a bright red particle of clothing at Switchblade’s face. His aim was a bit off so it half-slapped Kuan on the snout. Switchblade caught the rest of the jacket with his face.

“Try that on,” Frankie said, motioning for Switchblade to get up.

Switchblade frowned but didn’t put up a fuss. He pulled himself from his seat and held the particle of clothing by the shoulders. It was a bright red velvet coat to replace the one Frankie had ripped from him earlier. It had gold buttons and a black velvet lapel. It was much cleaner compared to the one Olivia made and one uniform color. The only problem was it was as bright as an emergency light. Even Swtichblade would tell it was an alarming color that would catch everyone’s attention.

“Well, try it on,” Frankie shortly said.

“Don’t you have something less… red?” Switchblade asked. His snout screwed up in disgust.

“No!” Frankie said, with a quick headshake. It was a lie and everyone in the limo knew it was a lie but no one argued against him.

With a great huff, Switchblade slipped the jacket on. It didn’t look horrible on him but it did fit stiffly. The material was rigid and cold as if it had never been worn before. When Switchblade moved his arms the coat made a strange fizzing sound as the velvet arm rubbed against the rest of the coat. The arm length was a bit longer than Switchblade was used to, so he had to stretch his arms out longer than he normally would. The brightness of the red made his old worn pants look even more old and worn. It wasn’t well fitted to his body at all but it was a far better choice than the old patched jacket Olivia had thrown together.

“Now, what to do about that hat…” Frankie said, examining the black jester cap Olivia had hand-made for Switchblade.

“The hat is fine as is,” Switchblade said, stumbling back towards Kuan. He grabbed the rim of the cap and leered at Frankie daring him to even try and take it. He had a feeling whatever hat Frankie brought along was likely as outlandish as the red coat. The hat Olivia made was a far cry from ‘high-end designer’ but it wasn’t a hot mess like his old coat had been.

Frankie wrinkled his snout in disgust but didn’t argue with Switchblade. “I guess it’ll do,” he said to himself. It’s not like he’d be hanging around Switchblade for that long and the bright jacket will likely take away from the rest of his grungy outfit.

Without being invited, Switchblade slipped his butt into the seat beside Kuan. He kept a watchful eye on Frankie, just in case the other bot changed his mind about the hat. Still feeling very out of sorts, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he examined the pockets of the jacket. The red velvet coat looked new, almost as if it had never been used. Had Frankie bought this for him or was this some sort of rejected gift the rainbow bot was pawning off on him? Something told him it was likely the latter of the two.

Nervous and more fidgety than ever, Switchblade fiddled his metal fingers and gave small jumps any time they went over any sort of bump. When the car slowed down for any reason, his inner pumps would sink and his eyes would shoot to the window to see if they had arrived at the venue yet. The poor bot’s silent nervous breakdown was completely ignored by Frankie. The rainbow bot was aggressively typing away on his phone. Switchblade assumed he was managing his social media account. Kuan, on the other hand, was fully aware of Switchblade’s mood. From the aggressive pumping of his gears to the scared buzz that emitted from his body, Kuan could tell the poor bot was not in good sorts.

“Switchblade?” Kuan said after a good 10 minutes of the older bot not calming down.

Switchblade nearly jumped out of his pants at the sound of her voice. He looked towards the window once more to see if they had arrived at the venue yet. It looked like they were still on the outskirts of the city. He then looked at Kuan. The dragon sinner kindly smiled back at him. The eye of the talesman covering her face scanned Switchblade as if it were searching for an injury. Switchblade knew Kuan couldn’t see through that eye but it still left him feeling like he was being examined.

“When we get to the venue I’ll take you to see my latest work,” Kuan said, her voice calm and even. “I have a new piece I think you’ll enjoy.”

Switchblade smiled softly back at Kuan. “You made something new?” he asked.

“For events like this it is customary to do so,” Kuan replied. Her paintbrush-like braid rested on Switchblade’s shoulder. “I wanted to keep it a surprise for you and I look forward to you seeing it.”

The nervous buzzing in Switchblade’s chest faded as his fear was slowly replaced with excitement. He adored every piece of work Kuan made and knowing that she was excited to show this new piece off to him melted his gears. “I bet it’s beautiful, just like all your other works.” Unconsciously he leaned in toward Kuan. Her calm energy drew him in like a moth to a lightbulb.

Frankie scoffed, only looking up from his phone for a moment. His unicorn-inspired tail gave an aggressive thwap but he said nothing to the two.

“I can’t wait for you to try one of my lemon curd vanilla cupcakes,” Switchblade said, the gentle humming in his chest now replacing the nervous buzzing from earlier.

“You know, I’ve been craving lemon all morning,” Kuan said, her smile softly growing.

“They are lemons from Olivia’s sister’s garden,” Switchblade said. The mundane conversation about the small cakes set him even more at ease.

“Oh, are those the same lemons you use to make that delicious lemonade?” Kuan asked.

“Yep! Her tree grows the best lemons,” Switchblade replied, once more unconsciously scooting closer to the sinner.

Frankie rolled his eyes. The desperation for affection he saw in the older bot made him sick. Who did he think he was? Pathetic! If it hadn’t been for sneaking Ghost into the gala, he would have put a stop to this right away.

“Does Olivia’s sister live nearby your place?” Kuan asked. It wasn’t the first time she had heard about the elusive little sister.

“She lives in Pentagram City,” Switchblade said, shaking his head. “It’s not too far from where you live, actually.”

“Oh, is she an artist, too?” Kuan asked.

Switchblade shook his head once more despite knowing Kuan couldn’t see him. “No, she is doing business for Olivia’s family. They opened a branch in Pride a few years back and she took charge of it.”

“Olivia’s is from Greed, right?” Kuan asked next. She had never really taken the time to ask about Olivia’s family life before and found herself quite curious.

Switchblade further relaxed as the conversation moved toward a topic he was familiar with. “Yes, and her parents still live there. Olivia’s sister, Twinkle, does business here in Pride in their stead.”

“I recall Olivia telling me her father is an expert in robotics,” Kuan hummed thoughtfully.

Switchblade nodded once more. “Yes, her father used to be one of the main robotic engineers at Loo Loo Land,” he explained.

“Is that why Olivia is so well-versed with Robotic Fizzarollies?” Kuan said as if a light had just turned on.

“Probably,” Switchblade said with a shrug. “You’ll have to ask her.”

Kuan nodded at this. There was nothing short of a moment of silence between the two before Kuan spoke once more. “You three will be going to Greed on the 31st, right? To stay with her family?”

Switchblade frowned at this question. “Yes, we always go to visit them during the extermination. I know hell borns don’t have to worry but it can be really dicey here in Pride for anyone during and after the extermination,” he said with a frown. “What about you two? Will you be okay, Kuan? Do You have a safe place to hide?”

Kuan opened her mouth, hesitating for a moment. She could hear the worried buzz slowly building in Switchblade once more. Perhaps bringing up the topic of the extermination wasn’t such a good idea.

“Hey! We’re pulling in!” Frankie gruffly cut in. “Get your asses together and don’t f*cking trip on your way out of the limo!” He said, his words mostly directed at Switchblade.

Both Sinner and bot looked towards the window as if they had completely forgotten where they were. From outside there were droves of people and flashing lights. The shouts and cheers of the crowd could be heard. Feeling overwhelmed, a wave of panic came over Switchblade once more.

“It is going to be okay dear,” Kuan gently said, taking Switchblade by the arm. “Let’s step out together.”

With a small nod, Switchblade took Kuan’s arm. If he had Kuan by his side, he’d be okay.

Chapter 5: Fish Out of Water: Part 2

Chapter by Sleepy_Dormouse

Chapter Text

Frankie was the first to exit the limousine. With a bright smile, he waved and blew kisses to the crowd of demons that lined the entrance. He wasted little time approaching the rail separating the path and the fans. He took selfies with anyone who asked him and passed out candy each time a fan called him over. With a spring in his step, Frankie was in his element.

Switchblade stumbled back as he exited the limo alongside Kuan. His arm wound like a snake around hers, growing tighter every second. Immediately he was overwhelmed by the amount of demons lining the red carpet. The lights flashing and the roaring cheers of fans caused his sensors to go into overdrive. Never before had he seen so many demons at once. He was so stunned he almost couldn’t walk.

“Switchblade,” Kuan said, her voice calm and even. She had picked up on the robot’s nerves right away. How could she not with how tightly he held her arm?

Switchblade looked up to find Kuan smiling softly. His gears and pumps immediately calmed down.

“Will you be okay, Switchblade?” Kuan asked, placing a gentle hand on his arm, not pushing the bot to move forward.

Switchblade willed himself to relax. He was already here so it was too late to turn back. It would just cause Kuan problems. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little caught off guard,” he replied, his voice glitching every so slightly.

Kuan nodded before gently leading Switchblade down the red carpet. Tripping over his feet a little, Switchblade followed alongside her. He stayed close to her, balancing his box of cupcakes in one hand and holding onto her for dear life with his other. He glanced at the crowds as they passed. The majority of them ignored his very existence. Most of their eyes were set on other demons making their way into the party. Somehow this helped Switchblade calm down a little.

While several members of the crowd called Fankie over for pictures and autographs, much less did so for Kuan, and not a single soul acknowledged Switchblade. When Kuan did greet a fan, Switchblade would follow beside her with his gaze downcast. He helped the best he could to ensure Kuan didn’t run into the railing and got back on the path when the greeting was finished.

It was halfway down the path that three older imp women waved Switchblade over. They looked to be middle-aged and shot their arms up in excitement as he passed. It was when they called Switchblade by his Sinstagram name, SBaker201, that he knew he was the one they wanted to meet.

Switchblade didn’t know what to do. He was already leading Kuan down the path. It was one thing for her to bring him to her fans but he felt a little embarrassed guiding Kuan to his fans. He’d never had fans before so he simply didn’t know the proper etiquette. Feeling too nervous to talk to strangers, he made up his mind that he was just going to ignore them when Kuan stopped in her tracks.

“Shall we go greet your fans? I’m sure they’d love to meet you,” the sinner asked. She turned her head in the general direction of where the women were calling his name.

Switchblade stumbled back at the sudden stop. He peeked up at Kuan and with a small voice said, “Sure, why not.” His reply was none too confident but Kuan seemed more than confident for the both of them.

With small uncertain steps, Switchblade followed after Kuan. Unable to see where she was going, her ears twitched as she used them to hone in on the imps. Switchblade made sure that she didn’t bump into anyone on their way over.

Perhaps Kuan could sense his nervousness for the next thing she said was, “It sounds like they’re really excited to meet you, Switchblade. Isn’t that nice?”

Switchblade replied with a small hum and a head nod. His eyes were more focused on the ground than anything else. He only looked up when Kuan almost walked them into the fence separating the crowd from the guests. Switchblade was quick to stop her, almost dropping his box of cupcakes in the process.

“Oh, wow! You really are a Robotic Fizzarolli! You look exactly the same as those pictures you took down!”

Switchblade flinched and looked up at his three fans. He was met by the smiles of three female imps who looked to be well into their fifties. With his shoulders hunched and his posture unsure, he sent them a very uncomfortable smile. “H-Hello,” he greeted, uncertain if he was doing this right.

“Wow, is it true that you make all this food on your own?” the shortest of the fans asked.

“Yes,” Switchblade replied, his answer remaining one word only.

“The Robotic Fizzarolli I have at home can’t seem to bake a single thing without it coming out as hard as a rock,” the woman replied. “Were you programmed to bake? You don’t seem like a chef model.”

Switchblade had learned how to bake through years upon years of trial and error. “Just time I guess,” he said to the woman, giving his foot a small kick.

“Wow, a basic model can learn skills like cooking,” the tallest woman said. “What’s the point of wasting our money on the fancier models if the basic ones can learn to do the same thing with time.”

Switchblade flinched at this comment. He had been replaced by a fancier model by his original family. “It took me a very long time. Longer than most people are willing to wait,” Switchblade reiterated. Without meaning to, he took a small step closer to Kuan.

“Well, your owner must really love you then,” the short imp said.

“Yeah…” Switchblade said, giving his shoulders a shrug.

The three imps looked up at Kuan. “You must be the lucky demon that owns him,” the third imp commented.

Switchblade went stiff. He hadn’t expected the topic of his owner to come up here. “No,” he said before he could stop himself.

“No?” The shortest imp asked. All three seemed to find this response odd. “Your owner isn’t with you?”

“I- uh…” Switchblade felt his nerves return. He hadn’t thought up an excuse as to who he belonged to and he wasn’t about to blow Olivia’s cover.

“I was asked to accompany him here tonight but he does not belong to me,” Kuan said, her tone calm. “Would you like to see what Switchblade has made for tonight?” She skillfully asked next.

This seemed to delight the three imps. The topic of his owner was quickly forgotten. Switchblade looked up at Kuan, his glowing eyes full of thanks.

“Oh, we’d love to see what you made!” the tallest one said.

Switchblade nodded and opened the box of cupcakes. Somehow they all had miraculously stayed put despite the rough journey they had been through. While Kuan couldn’t see the treats, her nose twitched at the box opening.

The three women ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ upon seeing the delicate cakes. “May we take a picture of them?” one asked.

Switchblade nodded and the next thing he knew the women were snapping photos of both himself and the cupcakes. Very quickly he hid his face behind the lid of the box though he already knew they had likely snapped a shot of his face. Feeling rather awkward, he couldn’t bring himself to ask them to delete those photos.

“Wow, these are absolutely adorable. I can’t believe they were made by a standard model Robo Fizz,” the shortest woman said as she scanned the photos she had taken.

Feeling unsure if he should be flattered or not, Switchblade peeked out from behind the box lip and asked, “Would you like to try one?”

The three imp’s faces lit up with joy. “Can we really?” the shortest one asked.

“Sure, I brought them here to share,” Switchblade shrugged. He supposed his fans were the right people to share them with.

Switchblade held the box out towards the delighted women. The three babbled to each other in excitement. Just as they were about to select their cupcakes, the box lid was snapped shut and swiftly snatched from Switchblade’s hands. Alarmed, Switchblade stumbled backward. He looked to his side to find a very frustrated Frankie.

“Sorry, ladies, but these are for guests of the party only,” Frankie said, scowling at Switchblade.

Switchblade promptly scowled back. They were his cupcakes so he should have been able to pass them out to whoever he wanted. Maybe the fan’s questions were a little invasive but they seemed like nice imps and worthy of his hard work.

Before Switchblade could argue with Frankie, the rainbow bot had snatched him up by the waist and shoved him away from the imps. “Sorry ladies, but we gotta go inside now,” he told the three disappointed women.

With Kuan still held in one arm and Frankie pushing him away from the railing, Switchblade almost tripped over himself. Feeling rather frustrated, he turned on Frankie so quickly that he almost knocked Kuan over. “What the f*ck!?,” he seethed.

Frankie slapped his hand over Switchblade’s mouth. “Not out here, you f*cking idiot,” Frankie shushed.

Attention was on the three now. Switchblade’s anger turned to panic as he realized not only were eyes on them but cameras were flashing like wild. He immediately receded in on himself, reaching for Kuan’s arm. With a wicked snicker, Frankie shook his head at the older robot. He shoved the cupcakes into Switchblade’s arms and pushed him towards the entrance.

“You really suck at laying low, rust bucket,” Frankie said before leading the way in.

With a mix of anger and embarrassment, Switchblade followed after Frankie. He was careful to keep his cupcake box upright.

“Switchblade, are you okay? If you want to share your cupcakes with those nice ladies we can go back,” Kuan said, leaning down to whisper to the robot.

“It’s fine,” Switchblade replied with a small shake of his head. The rest of the walk, he kept his head low and his gaze off the crowds.

Switchblade hadn’t even taken three steps into the hotel’s lobby when he ran snout first into something solid and alive. Immediately he was grabbed around the shoulders and pulled away from Kuan. Disoriented and unsure of what was going on, he nearly dropped his box of cupcakes. He heard a sharp concerned gasp from Kuan.

Looking up, Switchblade was met but the glowing smile of a Goecian royal. The man looked like the prizewinning turkey you’d see at a county fair. His round body was covered in brown sleek feathers with his tail feathers being brilliant colors of orange, red, and yellow like fall leaves. The royal was rotund but towered over Switchblade in a way that frightened the robot. From his beak, a big red fleshy wattle hung and jiggled about any time he moved his head. The man beamed down at the nervous bot. His six glowing red eyes were full of excitement to see him.

“Oh, wonderful! I’ve been waiting for you to arrive,” the royal said, his grip still tight on Switchblade’s shoulders.

“Ha?” was the only thing that came out of the old robot’s mouth. Still feeling bewildered, his system was having trouble computing what was happening.

“My name is Baron Benjamin, descendent to the Lord Zagan of the Ars Goetia but you can call me Ben,” the goecian greeted. He nodded at Switchblade as if his name alone should ring a bell. It didn’t.

Switchblade’s brow scrunched up as he nodded slowly. It was clear he had no clue who this Ben was. He glanced to the side, desperately trying to locate Kuan.

“I’m the one who invited you here,” Ben said, slipping his arm around Switchblade’s shoulder and dragging him towards the elevator.

In a quiet panic, Switchblade dug his heels into the marble floor. A very unpleasant scratch echoed through the lobby and once again more attention was on Switchblade than he wanted. His resistance did not go unnoticed by Ben. The larger demon stopped.

“The party is on the top floor,” Ben said, pointing the the elevator. The large royal loomed over Switchblade casting a shadow and making the robot feel small.

“You see, um, I uh…” Switchblade said, stumbling over his words. He looked around himself for Kuan once more.

“Oh, right, you must be here with your owner,” Ben nodded. “I’ve been wanting to meet them and ask them all about you.”

Switchblade cursed under his breath. His owner again? How could he have forgotten to come up with an excuse as to why his owner wasn’t here? Would Kuan be willing to pretend to be his owner tonight? He didn’t want to push her into anything she wasn’t comfortable with and everyone here likely already knew Kuan had Frankie. Would they question her getting another robot?

“Where are they?” Ben asked, looking around the bot.

“I-My owner is- they are-” Switchblade couldn’t seem to come up with a lie on the spot. His nerves had gotten the better of him.

“Excuse me, sir, but that is my friend you’re taking off with.”

Switchblade perked up at the sound of Kuan’s voice. The sinner’s words were not unkind but there was a sternness to them that caused Ben’s feathers to ruffle up a bit.

“Oh. Are you the lucky owner of this bot?” Ben asked Kuan.

“No!” Frankie snapped, stepping in. He looked extremely annoyed by the questions. He very gruffly snatched Switchblade up and out of the man’s arms. “But we are his babysitter for the evening, so you can f*ck off.” With a loud clank, Frankie dropped Switchblade beside Kuan. Switchblade had a feeling his cupcakes likely weren’t looking so neat anymore.

“I was the one who invited him here so I think I have the right to talk with my guest,” Ben replied. His chest puffed out and his tail feathers fanned as far as they could.

“Listen, jackass-” Frankie started only for Kuan to cut him off.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but our friend here is new to this sort of event and we were asked to watch over him tonight,” Kuan explained. “We aren’t saying you can’t talk with him but please don’t wander off with him against his will.”

“Against his will?” Ben asked, looking rather indignant at the accusations. “You and I were having a good conversation, were we not, robot?” All six of his glowing eyes looked at Switchblade.

“I mean…” Switchblade started. Still feeling rather intimidated, he didn’t know what to say. He glanced over to see Frankie scowling at him in the way you do when you find someone rather pathetic. Switchblade sighed, looking back at Ben. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t drag me off like that.”

Switchblade was surprised to find that Ben didn’t seem upset but a little taken aback. “Oh, well,” the Goecian started, flattening out his tuft of chest feathers that exploded from his shirt. “I was just a little excited to meet you, you see. I didn’t mean to frighten you, robot. I won’t take you from your friends if that’s what you want. But I do hope you don’t mind if I tag along. I’d like to speak with you more. It’s why I invite you here, after all.”

Switchblade was shocked by the royal’s response. He had expected the man to pitch a fit but he seemed nothing but embarrassed of himself. Switchblade glanced up a Kuan, squeezing her arm. The sinner nodded as if she could sense that Switchblade was unsure. “Y-yeah, we can talk,” Switchblade said upon seeing Kuan’s agreement with the royal.

“Perhaps we can carry on with this conversation in the ballroom,” Kuan suggested, motioning toward the elevator.

“Yes, the lobby is no place to properly get to know one another,” Ben agreed, still looking a little bashful.

The four headed for the elevator, with Frankie trailing behind. The rainbow bot was busy typing away on his phone. If Switchblade hadn’t been so preoccupied with being overwhelmed and nervous, he likely would have noticed the strange way Frankie looked at the ‘staff only’ door. The rainbow bot seemed anxious about something but with all the excitement going on, no one really took notice of it.

“As I said earlier, my name is Baron Benjamin, descendent to the Lord Zagan of the Ars Goetia,” the goecian royal rambled as they headed up the elevator.

Switchblade forced a smile as he did his best to act like he knew what Ben was talking about. Even Kuan seemed like she was struggling to be politely engaged in what the man had to say. Frankie was the only one who visibly showed on his face that he didn’t care about Ben or his royal bloodline.

When they arrived at the top floor, Ben followed close to Switchblade rambling on and on about his family’s estates and how he was interested in taking on the side hobby of becoming a restaurateur. The goecian’s rambling made it almost impossible for anyone else to get a word in. It made things awkward for the others, especially Switchblade who was the man’s main conversation target. As they headed deeper into the party, it became quite clear that many other guests were making an effort to keep away from Ben.

Switchblade couldn’t help but feel that paranoid feeling of someone’s eyes on you. He kept himself close to Kuan as Ben rambled on and on. A strange sort of staticy feeling tickled at Switchblade that left him feeling jumpy. He looked at Frankie to see if he also felt the static but the rainbow bot only seemed bothered by Ben and his incessant talking. Switchblade’s eyes wandered the room but all the other guests ignored him. Perhaps it was just his nerves playing tricks on him.

The four stationed themselves not too far from the buffet table where Ben filled a plate tall with cheese and cured meats and talked Swtichbalde’s ear off. “You know, the head chef for tonight works exclusively for Queen Beelzebub, but he was sent here tonight special for this event,” Ben said, smiling as if it were the most exciting thing about the party.

“Oh, yeah,” Switchblade nodded, feeling rather awkward. He scratched at the back of his neck as the tingling he felt from earlier faded. The royal now stood so close to Switchblade that the bot had to crane his neck back just to look at the much taller demon. “Would you like to get anything to eat, Kuan?” he asked, his hold on Kuan as tight as ever.

“Yes, a snack might be nice,” Kuan nodded. “It might be good for me to grab a bit before they ask me to do my live painting.”

“Perhaps your rainbow friend can help her out with that,” Ben said, taking Switchblade by the shoulder. “I still haven’t told you about my idea for a whole kitchen run by robots like you!”

At the mention of Frankie, Switchblade looked around to find that the unicorn bot was gone.

“Frankie dear?” Kuan asked, noticing as well that the familiar sound of her companion was nowhere to be heard.

“Where’d he go?” Switchblade asked, unable to see the bot anywhere in the ballroom.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Frankie,” Kuan said, not looking bothered in the least. “He was likely called away for autographs or pictures with his adoring fans. He’ll be back when he’s done.”

Switchblade looked back at Ben with a small shrug before guiding Kuan to the buffet table. He wasn’t surprised to see the goecian following after them. He didn’t seem too upset by the development. In fact, he looked like he was about to bombard them with another conversation as Switchblade grabbed a plate for Kuan.

“Do you want me to tell you what they have?” Switchblade asked as he led Kuan to the first set of dishes.

“Yes, that would be lovely dear,” Kuan replied, her nose twitching at the smell of the food.

“First up are the sides. We have mixed vegetables, what looks to be some sort of creamy dip, and an assortment of cheese and crackers,” Switchblade listed off.

“The dip is a brie artichoke dip,” Ben explained, looking rather proud of himself. “I highly recommend it. You know, most of the food here tonight is straight from Earth. I also recommend the short ribs. They are further down the line. They have a wonderfully sweet yet savory flavor to them I am sure you’ll love,” the goecian rambled.

“Oh, they sound lovely. I will have to give them a try,” Kuan politely replied. “Switchblade, dear, can you get me one of each cheese,” she then said, talking a bit quieter.

“You know, the cheese variety changes throughout the night,” Ben said as Switchblade filled Kuan’s plate. “I mean, I can’t say for sure but that's how it’s always been here at this Gala. The food selection changes about every hour or so. This is my sixth time coming here so I’m pretty sure it will be the same deal tonight,” he carried on, his tail feathers fanning out proudly. He bumped them into a tall goecian woman who looked rather bothered by Ben.

“Oh, I never noticed that the food swapped out like that,” Kuan said to Ben, her snout lifting up with an audible sniff. “Is that gravlax and fig preserves? Snatch me a few, please.”

“Oh, so you’ve been to this gala as well?” Ben said, straightening up his posture as if he was about to get into a debate.

“I’m the only one who is a first-timer,” Switchblade said, finding Ben’s behavior rather odd.

“This is the third time I’ve attended this gala,” Kuan nodded. It was hard to tell if she didn’t notice Ben’s change in behavior or if she was choosing to ignore it. “Switchblade, could you get me a few of those bruschetta.”

“Well, I’ve been going to this gala longer,” Ben said as if it was the most important thing for a demon to do.

“It’s not a competition,” Switchblade said. He added a few crab legs to Kuan’s plate and sent Ben the side eye.

Ben deflated almost immediately. Looking rather awkward, he flattened out his coat lapels. “Yes, right,” he awkwardly chuckled. Whatever confrontation that had been there was now gone. “You know, those crab legs are quite good,” he said, his tone now much more submissive.

Switchblade nodded and added another crab leg to the plate. Soon Kuan’s plate was full and the three found their way to the table. Switchblade helped Kuan with shucking the crab legs but other than that he left her to her meal. Ben, of course, had gotten on to a new topic by this point. Switchblade couldn’t help but notice that Ben was quite the bragger and seemed proud about the oddest of things.

“You know, robot, I have a friend with one of your kind that is programmed to bake,” Ben said. He hadn’t asked Switchblade for his name and had settled on calling him robot. Switchblade wasn’t sure if the goecian didn’t think that knowing his name was important, or if things had gone on for too long and it had become too awkward for him to ask at this point.

“That's… cool,” Switchblade said, not sure what to contribute to the conversation.

“His bot makes some pretty nice things but the items you make look much more…” Ben stopped thoughtfully as he searched for the right words. “Much more comfortable and dare I say… rustic?.” His eyes landed on Switchblade’s box of cupcakes that the robot had yet to show off. “Did you bring something along with you?”

“I made cupcakes,” Switchblade replied. If he hadn’t been tackled by Frankie earlier about sharing them, he’d have offered one up to Ben at this point. Now he was simply confused if he was meant to share them at all or not.

“Switchblade makes the best desserts but his meals are also quite delightful and exquisite,” Kuan said, looking rather proud of her friend.

“Oh, you’ve been able to sample this robot’s dishes?” Ben asked, looking a little jealous. He glanced at the box of cupcakes once more.

“Most of what I make is for the people I know,” Switchblade said. He still didn’t offer up a cupcake to the goecian making the atmosphere even more awkward.

“Oh, well, I’d love to try one of your dishes someday, robot,” Ben said with hope in his eyes.

Switchblade wasn’t about to invite a royal over to Olivia’s apartment. Especially not this weirdo. While he seemed harmless now, Switchblade didn’t trust the goecian. Most were stuck-up pricks who looked down on the demons below them. On top of that, it would blow Ghost’s cover.

“Maybe your friend’s robot can cook for you,” Switchblade said with a small shrug.

Ben didn’t seem pleased by this answer but refrained from pitching any sort of fit. “You bots really are quite fickle, aren’t you.”

Switchblade didn’t know what Ben meant by this so all he could do was shrug.

“Perhaps a bot programmed to cook would make better food,” Ben mumbled to himself like a spoiled child.

Switchblade could tell that the man was trying to bait him into a cupcake but it didn’t work. He just pretended like he hadn’t heard Ben. Instead, he looked around the ballroom. The room was large with all sorts of stalls set up for artist to show off their works. There was a stage on the far end of the room and on the other end of the room, by the buffet, were large windows that reached from floor to ceiling. Beside the buffet was a huge golden chocolate fountain that Switchblade recognized as the one Ghost fell into. There was also a dancefloor not too far from the stage and a line of doors leading to who knows where across from where they sat.

Around the room, hundreds of demons mingled. Mostly made up of hellborn royals, gussied up sinners, and overlords. Switchblade couldn’t help but notice how many of them seemed to be actively avoiding their table. Every now and then a goecian would walk past but keep a fair distance away from Ben. It made Switchblade wonder who this man was. Were they scared of him because he was stronger than he looked, or was it because he was painfully awkward to talk to?

Like a sudden itch, Switchblade felt the tingling sensation from earlier return. His shoulders hunched up and he gave a small twitch. He got the horrible feeling that someone was watching him. His eyes darted around the room but he saw no one looking his way. His strange behavior went unnoticed by the two other demons.

“These crab legs really delicious, Benjamin,” Kuan said as she finished her meal. “Thank you for the recommendation on the artichoke dip as well.”

Ben lightened up at the compliment. “Oh, it’s no big deal. Knowing about food is kind of a hobby of mine, you can say I'm a bit of a food connoisseur. A gastronome if you will. ” he said puffing his feathers out and looking proud once more.

“So, what’s your favorite food?” Switchblade awkwardly asked, trying to ignore the staticy tingle he felt. The question sounded dumb as it came out of his mouth. Much to his relief, Ben was delighted by it.

“You know, that is a very good question indeed,” Ben said, giving his chin a rub, making the wattle that hung from his neck jiggle. “Well, are we talking meals or desserts or something else?”

“I-I don’t know?” Switchblade awkwardly shrugged. He glanced over at Kuan to find her pleasantly smiling.

“What would you say your favorite dessert is, Sir Baron?” Kuan asked as if this whole thing wasn’t painfully awkward. She really did know how to carry herself at these events. Switchblade couldn’t help but admire her. Just as he smiled up at her, he felt another sting of static.

“Well, now, are we talking just cakes and pastries here or does this also include things like ice cream and mousses? Because, in my opinion, they are two very different categories,” Ben carried on in a very important manner. He completely ignored the odd behavior of the little robot at the table.

“Let’s start with cakes then,” Kuan skillfully replied. “I’m quite partial to anything lemon and vanilla myself.”

“Ah yes, lemon is a very fresh flavor,” Ben said, clearing his throat. “But I must say the queen of the citruses is yuzu. It’s not as common but has quite a nice zing to it,” he explained as if no one at the table had ever heard of yuzu.

Switchblade felt his admiration for Kuan grow as she very easily held a conversation with Ben. Not once did she look put off or bothered by the strange goecian. She simply answered his questions and asked ones of her own even though Switchblade knew she wasn’t interested in any of Ben’s conversation topics. He leaned in towards her, but a rather alarming shock of static caused him to scoot away quickly and almost fall out of his chair. Just as soon as it came, the strange staticy feeling vanished all together.

This time his odd behaviour didn’t go unnoticed. The sound of his chair screeching on the floor as he tried not to fall out of it had caught both demons’ attention. He grabbed onto the table for support and pulled himself upright.

“Switchblade, is everything okay?” Kuan asked, turning in his direction with concern.

Switchblade looked at Kuan and then at Ben. Both looked just as alarmed as he felt. “I… I think I’m still feeling a bit on edge,” he said, giving Kuan’s arm a small pat of reassurance. “I’m fine.”

His eyes wandered the room once more but he didn’t notice anyone looking their way. All he really picked up on was several other demons avoiding eye contact with Ben. Perhaps he really is more on edge than he realized. He’d have to have Olivia check up on him when he arrived home tonight and make sure he didn’t have a wire out of place.

Chapter 6: Sneaky Ghost and His Tail That Goes ZAP!

Chapter Text

“Listen, just put this on when you get to the venue and head down the alley that I marked for you on the map,” Frankie whispered, shoving a colorful reusable bag into Ghost’s hands. He had his other arm wrapped around Ghost, holding him close as he laid out the plan for the night.

Ghost took the bag, excited to see what sort of disguise Frankie had put together for him. “W-What is it?” Ghost asked, peeking inside to take a look. He hoped for something glittery and bright. His snout scrunched up when he saw a folded white shirt, black slacks, and a black jester hat.

“It’s your disguise, dummy,” Frankie said, his tail slapping the back of Ghost’s head.

“Waiting staff!?” Ghost said, his voice far too loud for a secret conversation. He immediately snapped his mouth shut, his eyes daring to the limo where Switchblade currently sat trapped. The older bot banged desperately at the window but Ghost did nothing to help him.

“Listen, this is just to get you into the venue,” Frankie said, bringing Ghost in so close their cheeks touched. “You can change once you’re in.”

“Do you really think this is going to work?” Ghost skeptically asked, peeking into the bag once more. His tail gave a loud snap of uncertainty.

“It’s foolproof, Carbon!” Frankie said, holding Ghost so close now that the transparent bot had to crane his neck to the side or he’d end up kissing Frankie on the cheek.

Ghost pouted, shifting himself over just a little. His skepticism still hung heavy.

“I got connections, Ghostie, so don’t worry,” Frankie insisted.

Ghost leaned away a smidge and tilted his head to the side. “Connections?”

“My man, Barnaby!”

“Barnaby?” Ghost said, scrunching his snout at the name alone.

Frankie ignored Ghost’s show of uncertainty. “Text me and I will have him meet you at the place marked on the map. He’ll let you in and drop you off where you need to be,” Frankie extended his arm, twisting it around as he pointed a finger upward.

Ghost’s cheeks puffed out with a pout. “If I get found out, SB is going to kill me!”

“I would trust Barny with my life,” Frankie said, though it was likely an untrue statement. “Just remember to wear the face mask and cover up that big gaudy thing on your forehead.” Frankie gave Ghost’s forehead diamond a flick of his finger that rang with a high-pitched tink.

“Fine,” Ghost said, turning away from Frankie just a little. He swatted at the rainbow robot’s hand to be sure he didn’t go in for another flick.

“Don’t worry, Carbon. This plan is foolproof, I’m a f*cking genius,” Frankie said, tickling Ghost’s exposed midriff instead. “As long as you don’t f*ck it up, it should be fine.”

This caused Ghost to do a little wiggle at the ticklish sensation. The edges of his lips curled up into a smile but he still spat out a very determined, “f*ck you!”

Frankie smiled proudly at Ghost in reply. He wiggled his fingers enjoying the way Ghost held his elbows down to cover his sides. Before the transparent bot could get his retort out, Olivia and Kuan finally arrived from the stairwell.

Frankie grabbed Ghost by the wrist once more, bringing him in for a whisper. “See you at the gala,” he said, his voice hushed. He then abandoned Ghost for his sinner partner.

Ghost pouted as he watched Frankie and Kuan slip into the limo. He was a little surprised that Switchblade didn’t try to rush out of the limo the moment the door opened. That chump really would go through anything for Kuan. What a f*cking simp.

The limo kicked up a puff of dust as it headed down the street. Ghost watched it go with a frown. Sneaking in was fine and all but making a grand entrance on the red carpet was something Ghost had always loved. f*cking Switchblade was likely going to f*ck it up and waste the opportunity. It was only when the limo was out of sight that the demon and robot went back inside.

Just as planned, Ghost followed Olivia up the stairs. He was to hang around the apartment until Olivia settled in. That likely wouldn’t take too long knowing her. The second she got working on something, it was like the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore.

“I’m so sorry you aren’t able to attend the gala, Ghost,” Olivia sadly said when they arrived back in their apartment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Ghost grumbled, giving his shoulders a stiff shrug.

“If you want, maybe you and I could do something nice together tonight?” Olivia suggested as they entered the kitchen. “How about I take us out for something nice to eat? We could even hit up the mall. I made you this new top for the occasion.” She smiled, picking up a hot pink top from the kitchen table. It was skimpy and in the color and cut Ghost loved most.

Olivia had never offered to take Ghost to the mall like this nor had she ever planned any special outing just for him that didn’t involve rifling through garbage. In fact, he had assumed she didn’t even know where the mall was. The hellborn smiled expectantly at him, holding the shirt by its shoulders. Had she planned this to help him feel better? He had assumed she would be spending the evening in the workroom to get stuff done on her current Robo project like always. Ghost’s tail gave a small awkward spark.

“Pass,” Ghost said, crossing his arms and doing his best to ignore the way Olivia’s smile dropped. His tail released another awkward zap. The pumps in his stomach lurched at the disappointment he saw on her face.

“Are you sure?” Olivia replied, placing the top on the table. “I really don’t mind taking you.”

Ghost averted his gaze. “I’m tired and not in the mood,” he lied. “Just leave me alone tonight.”

There was a moment of hesitation in Olivia. “If you say so, Ghost. But if you change your mind-”

“I won’t!” Ghost sharply cut in. He then turned to his loft and stretched his legs up to the curtain door. He crawled into the tiny space, flopping himself down on his pillow nest for a rest. “Just leave me alone,” he said once more. He used his tail to make sure the curtain was shut tight. For some reason, he was feeling a bit disappointed but he didn’t know why.

“You know where to find me if you need me,” Olivia called up. He could hear the sad waver in her voice

Ghost said nothing. He waited in silence, not moving a gear until he heard the sound of Olivia heading to the work room. He stayed hauled up in his loft for a good twenty minutes before even thinking about heading out of the loft. He needed to be sure Olivia was good and deep in whatever it was she was working on or she might notice him leaving.

It was just past 5:30 pm when Ghost lowered himself down from the loft into the kitchen. He stayed as quiet as he could so as to not catch the attention of Olivia. He knew the demon was hard to distract when she was focused on a project but today her normal cheerful humming wasn’t as loud nor as cheerful as usual. If the robot hadn’t been so focused on getting to the gala, he may have taken a moment to wonder why this was.

Once out of his room, Ghost’s eyes wandered the kitchen as if he expected Switchblade to be in there fixing up a meal. As expected, the kitchen was dark and empty. Ghost’s eyes scanned the room just to be sure and landed on the kitchen table where the hot pink crop top lay in a small pile. He frowned at the top feeling a moment of guilt. It was a first for Olivia to make him something all on her own that suited his taste. In any other circ*mstance, he would have happily taken the top and dragged Olivia to the mall. Too bad he already had plans for the night. He knew Olivia was a tough cookie who would likely be over this all by sunrise tomorrow.

With his disguise in hand, Ghost crept to the front door. His tail sparked as if it were threatening to zap loudly at any moment. It left Ghost feeling tense and on edge. He really should have heckled Olivia into fixing the latest kink in his tail before tonight. If this was the reason he was found out, he’d scream and rip the appendage off himself.

Somehow, his broken buzzing tail stayed quiet. Very carefully, he turned the knob of the front door and pushed it open. He cringed at the loud creaking the hinges made. Sounding like the screams of the damned, Ghost stopped when the door was open just enough for him to slip out. He held his breath, listening for Olivia. It sounded like the hellborn was still busy at work. Very swiftly, he slipped out the door. The door screamed just as loudly when it shut.

Ghost felt his circuits race at the door banged shut. Not waiting around to see if Olivia had heard or not, he bolted for the staircase. Taking two steps at a time, he rushed down the stairwell, not looking back. Once out of the apartment, he zipped across the street and made a beeline for the bus stop.

It was dark enough now that the glowing lights that resided within his body left him looking like a faded blue glowstick. The sidewalk below him glowed blue from his internal lights and he lit his path down the dark street. Only half the street lights lining the road worked and a good portion of them flickered on and off, likely on their last leg. This part of town wasn’t kept up anymore and was likely why Olivia was able to afford her apartment on her meager wage.

Once at the bus stop, Ghost stood beside it impatiently. It was hard to say if the bus was even going to show up. It was due to come in five minutes from now but if it didn’t show up, it likely wasn’t coming at all and he’d have to hoof it to the subway. A thirty-minute walk was not something Ghost was interested in. These dark streets were no safe place for a fancy bot like himself and he had left his ugly poncho back in the apartment.

Much to Ghost’s shock, the bus did show up, albeit five minutes late. Ghost had never been on the bus this late in the day going in this direction before. Not supristing, the bus was empty with only two other passengers. A short-one-eyed purple-skinned sinner and a tried imp woman carrying several full bags of groceries. The passengers and the driver all looked at Ghost as if they’d never seen a Robo Fizz before. None of them said a word but Ghost could tell they found him to be out of place.

Ghost didn’t make eye contact with anyone as he ripped a ticket from the bus's ticket machine. His tail finally released the loud spark it had been holding back since leaving his loft causing everyone on the bus to jump. Ghost turned his nose up and acted as if his tail hadn’t just impersonated a gunshot. He then stomped to the very back of the bus. He took the back corner seat where he could slump down and hide away from the other passengers. While he liked attention, he wasn’t interested in the attention of some old imp woman and some scrawny sinner.

Ghost frowned at his reflection in the old dusty bus window as it made its way down the dark streets. At each bus stop the bus would stop and let on a passenger or two. As the bus filled up, more people looked wide eyed at the sight of a clear golden-headed robot. Ghost pulled out the face mask Frankie had given him and put it on. Normally he didn’t care to cover up his face but without the company of Olivia or Switchblade, he felt an odd feeling of discomfort come over him around all the strangers. He even pulled down his hat until it covered up his beautiful diamond.

Any time someone looked Ghost’s way, he would sneer at them. As if his tail also knew someone was looking, it would zap loudly at anyone who tried to sit beside him. Ghost made no effort to share his set with anyone even after every last sitting space was taken up. Fortunately for him, the majority of people on the bus didn’t seem interested in fighting with an ornery robot.

As the journey carried on, Ghost checked in with Frankie to keep him up to date.

‘This f*cking bus sucks!’ - Ghost

Frankie’s replies did not come right away and that only put Ghost in a sour mood. He felt alone on this bus and decided then and there that he didn’t care to ride on public transportation all alone.

‘What do you think of this scarf?’ The rainbow bot didn’t show any signs of worry for his friend, but instead sent him a photo of a loud multicolored scarf that looked like something Frankie likely already owned.

‘Don’t you already have a scarf like that?’ Ghost squinted at his phone as he studied the photo. He was half aware of a shark demon who was becoming increasingly interested in him.

‘We should match!’ - Frankie

‘Like I would want to match you’ - Ghost

‘Ouch, and here I am going out of my what helping you get into this event’ - Frankie

Ghost felt a moment of guilt. This feeling was something he was not used to. He frowned at his phone, now not really paying much attention to the shark hellborn inching closer and closer to him.

‘Okay, maybe we can match but not that scarf’ - Ghost

‘It wouldn’t look good on you anyway’ - Frankie

Just as Frankie’s message popped up on Ghost’s phone the hellborn shark tried to sit beside Ghost. Ghost turned to the man and snarled. The stranger didn’t seem bothered by the display of aggression at all. He smiled wickedly at Ghost only for Ghost to extend his legs out to cover up the vacant seat. The man hesitated, looking rather annoyed. It was only when Ghost’s tail hissed and snapped loudly that the stranger backed off. The zap was so great, that it caused a jolt to travel through Ghost. After that, no one bothered to talk to him.

‘This bus f*cking blows’ - Ghost typed out aggressively once the incident had passed.

Once the bus stopped at its final destination, the subway, Ghost was one of the last to get off. He kept himself curled up and hidden in his seat as the rest of the riders exited. Anyone who looked his way got a good thorough snarl from the bot. It was only after everyone got off that Ghost took his leave as well.

“What’s a bot like you doing all alone on my bus?” the old imp driver asked.

“f*ck you!” Ghost replied, dropping his fair into the change box. He promptly whipped his hat tails to one side and stomped off the bus. He didn’t look back at the bus driver to see the man flip him the bird.

Ghost headed right for the subway ticket counter. At the electronic kiosk, he bought his ticket to the stop Frankie had told him to get off on. It should land him just down the street from the venue. Feeling rather annoyed at all the buttons he had to push and pissed off at how the electronic kiosk hummed loudly, he was in a bit of a sour mood when he finally made it into the station.

Not the best with directions and too prideful to ask for help, Ghost stomped around the station for a good ten minutes before he figured out what platform he needed to be on. He cursed and grumbled at how confusing it was to figure out exactly where each platform was headed. Normally he’d just follow Switchblade without a care when on the subway. If it wasn’t for the photos of the map and platform signs Frankie had sent him yesterday, he likely wouldn’t have ever figured it out.

Ghost didn’t have to wait terribly long to make it onto the subway. Further into the city now, the trains came every fifteen to twenty minutes. While he only had to wait ten minutes for his train, he was still angry that he had to wait at all. Here he was, the most unique robot in all of hell, standing in a dirty stinky subway station on his way to sneak into the gala while Switchblade was rolling up to the event now in style. The old bed wouldn’t even appreciate it. Ghost was so frustrated at this point his tail zapped loudly every few minus scaring most people from his general vicinity.

Once on the subway, Ghost took a seat designated for the pregnant or elderly. He once again scowled at his reflection in the train’s old dirty window. Just like on the bus, many eyes were drawn to the strange transparent bot who rode alone. If Ghost had been more aware of his surroundings, he’d likely have noticed this and possibly made a scene.

“Where is a bot like you heading all alone on a Friday night?” A brave sinner asked.

“f*ck off!” Ghost snapped, his tail sparking so loudly this time it caused every demon around him to jump back. Ghost snarled at them and after that, he was left mostly alone once more. Perhaps a broken tail wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Once at his stop, he stomped off the train and trotted on the foot of some poor businessman who hadn’t done anything to anyone the whole ride. Once off the train and out of the subway he used his phone’s navigation to find his way to the venue. It wasn’t too difficult of a task since every fancy car on the road was headed in that direction. As he came closer to the hotel, a mix of frustration and excitement built up in Ghost. He was annoyed that he had to sneak in but this would be his first time at a social gathering like this since his kidnapping.

Soon, Ghost’s excitement won out over his annoyance and he lightened up a bit. There was a huge crowd of demons, both sinners and hellborns alike crowding around the entry of the hotel. Ghost couldn’t even see the red carpet through them all. He felt his pumps tighten as he recalled last year when he arrived on that red carpet for this very event. Now here he was sneaking in like some low life. Life simply wasn’t fair.

Just as he had been told by Frankie, he sent the rainbow bot a message that he had arrived. Slipping into an alleyway, he shoved on his disguise, a white button-up shirt, a black vest, and black slacks. To top it all off he slipped on an all black jester hat. It was likely the hat worn by the robots that were owned by the catering company. It was just as ugly as the rest of the outfit. Ghost hated all of it and felt the need to vomit just looking down at himself.

With his outfit on and the mask still covering his face, he checked his phone for Frankie’s reply. He wasn’t to approach the building until Frankie messaged him the okay. Feeling impatient, it took everything in Ghost not to just stomp his way over and sneak in through the air vent like in the movies. It was a good fifteen minutes of waiting around and getting angry when Frankie finally messages back.

‘Sorry, I was signing some autographs’ - Frankie

‘Wonderful! Thanks for making me wait’ - Ghost

It took another good five minutes for Frankie to message him again. Ghost felt like he was going to toss his phone into the garbage but the rainbow bot messaged just in time.

‘Right, Barny should be waiting for you at the rendezvous point. Don’t leave him waiting too long, Carbon’ - Frankie

‘f*ck you!’ - Ghost

‘Love you, too’ - Frankie

Ghost grumbled at his phone and rolled his eyes. All he could do now was trust in Frankie’s connections. It wasn’t like he had any other choice. Not wanting to test the goodwill of Barny, Ghost headed to the ally next door where the staff entrance awaited him.

Much to Ghost’s surprise, not a single person gave him a second glance. There were other demons in the alley dressed like he was unloading boxes from the back of a truck. Ghost halted for a moment, unsure of what to do. He hadn’t expected the alley to be full of other demons and robots. Was he supposed to carry things in? What about meeting Barny?

Ghost questions were soon answered when he felt himself being lifted up. Whoever it was had grabbed him by the arms, holding them tight against his body. Shocked and a little afraid he spat out a very loud, “HEY!”

As he was lifted up, Ghost heard his capture say, “Yo, I think this one is on the fritz.”

Now being held upside down, he was held face to face by a large jaguar-looking sinner. The man winked at him and Ghost stopped his struggle when he saw that the man’s nametag read ‘Barnaby’. Ghost looked back at the man wide eyed.

“f*ck, not another one!” Ghost heard someone from the truck sigh. “I swear, if another one of these bots breaks on me, I’m joining that lawsuit against Mammon.”

Barnaby smiled at Ghost, giving him another wink before plunging him into a large white sack. Ghost gasped, feeling rather undignified, but knew better than to make a fuss. He swore that if he ended up on the black market somewhere, he was going to find Frankie and strangle him.

Ghost couldn’t see a thing from within the white sack. All he could do was sit as still as he could and do his best to keep quiet. As Barnaby walked, Ghost could hear the sound of his feet transitioning from concrete street to marble flooring and then the unmistakable sound of an elevator door opening. Soon he felt that push of being lifted up many floors very quickly.

“What’s in the bag?” Ghost hear someone ask.

“A broken Fizzie,” Barny casually replied.

Just then, Ghost’s tail snapped loudly as if to make sure to sell the lie. He heard Barnaby jump and the other person gasp.

“Damn, sounds like it’s about to explode,” the mystery person nervously laughed.

“It won’t… I think,” Barnaby replied.

The rest of the ride up was awkward and quiet. The elevator finally came to a stop and Ghost felt Barnaby exit again.

“Good luck with that bot.”

“Thanks.”

Ghost felt the man walking once more. The sound of feet on the carpet is what he heard now. Ghost was feeling himself grow impatient again. The bag was uncomfortable and he didn’t like not knowing where he was.

“Are we almost there yet?” Ghost hissed from the bag.

“Shh!” the man Sharply replied.

Ghost grumbled but kept quiet as he was told. He heard Barnaby greet people on occasion as the man went left and right down hall after hall. Soon he felt him climbing stairs for what felt like ages. The echo of his steps and a strange musty stale smell told Ghost he was likely in the stairwell now. Was this how all staff traversed the hotel or was it because the sinner was sneaking in a bot?

Ghost was about to give up when Barnaby finally exited the stairwell. They had to be near the end of this long teck soon. Ghost was starting to think he’d never make it to the party. The transparent bot perked up when he heard the sound of a door being opened

“Stay in there until Frankie comes,” Barnaby said.

Still tied up tight in the bag, the next thing Ghost knew, he had been tossed on the ground. Wherever it was, it was carpeted. Before Ghost could even reply to the man, the door was shut and he was shrouded in darkness. The click of a lock told Ghost he was going to be there for a while whether he wanted to or not.

Chapter 7: Heart of Gold

Chapter Text

The lights from within Ghost’s body illuminated the inside of the sack. It didn’t do much to help him learn where he was, but at least he could see well enough. He was usually able to ignore the lights that flashed from within his body but, likely due to his situation, he couldn’t help but notice just how bright some of those lights were. Did he always glow this brightly or had Olivia done something to him during his last diagnostic? Ghost’s broken tail hummed like an angry bee as he tried to recall.

The transparent bot did his best to keep his mind on anything other than the fact that he was currently being stored in a dark room in a hotel, uncertain if he’d ever see the light of day again. He had put so much of his trust in Frankie. If this Barnaby guy turned out to be a robot dealer and was storing him here for later, Ghost could likely never see anyone he ever knew ever again. He usually tried to ignore this face, but Switchblade had ground it into his brain that he, Ghost, was Mammon’s missing bot and that he, Ghost, currently possessed Mammon’s prized diamond. Ghost liked to believe that Mammon was hunting for him so feverishly because he liked Ghost and not because he wanted to pry the diamond from his head but being in this bag stored away in a dark mysterious room left him uncertain.

Ghost’s tail began to buzz louder but this time around it was less agitated and more concerned. He started to wonder if sitting around and waiting to find out was a good idea. Frankie hadn’t mentioned him waiting around in a dark room like this. Feeling a bit antsy, he fished his phone out of his pocket. He scoffed sharply at seeing that the battery was close to dead. He had been too preoccupied by tonight to remember to charge it.

What the f*ck! The guy dumped me in some dark room - Ghost

Hold tight, Carbon. I’ll be there soon. Just keep that shiny little mouth of yours shut so no one hears you - Frankie

Hurry the f*ck up!!! My phone is about to die!!! - Ghost

Ghost huffed at his phone, looking rather perturbed. He watched as the battery went from ten percent to nine percent. Frankie didn’t reply back to him so all Ghost could do was pout in the glow of his own light. His tail went back to its normal annoyed buzz.

It felt like ages before the door finally clicked and creaked open. Feeling rather upset for being left to wait so long, Ghost could not help but release a rather loud “Humph!”

A light flooded the room and the glow from Ghost’s own body was drowned out. “Hello to you, too, Princess,” Ghost heard Frankie’s teasing voice. “I’ve come to release you from your hold.”

“Get me the f*ck outta’ this bag!” Ghost growled, giving his legs a kick just to make it clear how upset he was.

Ghost heard Frankie snicker. Soon after, he felt the top of the bag being lifted, causing him to curl in on himself. With his knees to his snout, Ghost felt his patience wear thin.

“Just one more knot and…” Frankie mumbled to himself. “There!”

Ghost looked up to see the top of the bag open. From it, Frankie’s white rainbow-freckled face peeked in. He smiled at Ghost and Ghost returned the smile with a pout of his own.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Princess,” Frankie teased, reaching a hand in to help Ghost up.

Ghost took the hand and pulled himself up with such gusto that he almost pulled Frankie into the bag with him. “You kept me waiting too long. I was starting to get worried.”

Frankie straightened himself up but his grin never left his face. “Worried? About what?” He asked as he watched Ghost stumble out of the bag.

“Worried that that friend of yours was going to sell me on the black market,” Ghost snapped as his leg got caught on the lip of the bag. The transparent bot was so ruffled from the whole ordeal that he practically tripped into Frankie.

Frankie chuckled as he steadied Ghost. “Well exacuuuuuse me Princess, I didn’t know you were such a f*cking worrier, Carbon. Is Old Rustbucket finally rubbing off on you?” he asked, giving Ghost a nudge with his elbow.

“f*ck you!” Ghost sharply replied, his tail zapping so loudly that he caused himself to jump. “You never f*cking told me that I’d be stored in a… in a..” Ghost looked about himself. He found that the room they were in was more like a closet than a hotel room. All sorts of clothes were hanging from rods, most of which looked like coats and jackets. “Are we in a f*cking closet!?”

Frankie nodded as he fiddled with a very fluffy coat. “And you can pick whatever you’d like to wear to the gala,” he said, pulling a shiny dress down from within the coat.

Ghost’s anger faded a little as he took a better look at the clothing. It had been ages since he was amongst such high-quality garments. While most of them were coats, there were some dressed as well as suits and pants amongst the mix. Ghost felt his gears speed up in excitement.

He soon found himself at odds with what to wear. Like a mother at Wallmart on Black Friday, Ghost filed through the particles of clothing. Did he want to wear a suit and be snazzy and smart, or should he glam out in a dress? There were also beautiful fur coats he could wear. They were luxuriously soft but likely out of place. Feeling at odds, he was about to give up and tell Frankie to choose when he saw it. In the back wrack hung a beautiful shimmering light pink gown.

“It’s perfect,” Ghost said as he removed the gown from the hanger. It was floor length and just the right size for Ghost’s build. It had a slit in the side of the skirt that almost reached up to the waist. It had a swooping open back and was held up by one strap on the right side. The front swooped down only a little and had to peekaboo windows at his waist. The material was silky and shimmered like pink stars. Ghost smoothed it over in his hands, marveling at its beauty.

“Why am I not surprised,” Frankie grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“This dress is perfect,” Ghost croaked, scowling at him. “Now turn around while I put it on!”

“Why!?” Frankie chuckled, a little shocked by Ghost’s request. “When did you become so f*cking shy and modest?” He looked Ghost up and down. Now that he thought about it, he had never seen Ghost fully nude. Was that clear body of his transparent everywhere?

Ghost pouted, his golden cheeks puffing out in the process. “Just turn around you, asshole,” he grumbled.

Frankie shook his head commenting on how they were both robots, though he now found himself very curious about Ghost and a little shocked that he wasn’t comfortable with Frankie seeing him change. The sound of Ghost’s struggle to get his clothes off and the dress on was amusing. Never before had he heard so much grunting and curing over the simple task of dressing one’s self.

“Hey, can you help me?” Ghost grumbled. “I can’t get it to zip up.”

“Oh, so I can turn around then?” Frankie asked with a snicker in his tone.

“Obviously,” Ghost shortly replied.

When Frankie turned around he saw Ghost’s arms stretch all the way down his back to the zipper that he helplessly fiddled with. The transparent bot pulled at the little metal zipper tab but it wouldn’t budge. The zipper was mostly unzipped and Frankie got a small peak at the other robot’s butt. It was indeed just as transparent as the rest of him. He found himself thinking it was rather round and cute like bubble wrap.

“I wonder if I can see my dick in you if we f*cked,” Frankie mumbled his thoughts out loud without meaning to. Very quickly he snapped his mouth shut.

“What did you say?” Ghost asked, he hadn’t quite heard the other’s comment.

“N-Nothing,” Frankie awkwardly replied, his eyes darting from Ghost’s butt to anywhere else.

“Well, don’t just stand there gawking at me,” Ghost snapped, turning his head to pout at Frankie. “I think the zipper is caught.”

Snickering at the other, Frankie sauntered his way to Ghost. “Leave it to you to fail at the simple task of zipping up a dress.”

“These zippers are always a pain in the ass to close,” Ghost complained loudly. At this point, he had stopped trying to zip it and instead faced his back towards Frankie.

With a small smirk, Frankie shook his head. “I’m at your service, Princess,” he said, his hands running up Ghost’s back. His smirk grew at the way Ghost shivered.

Ghost’s shoulders were hunched as another shiver ran through him. He suddenly felt himself become tingly and a little excited. The lights within his body seemed to brighten every so slightly. His tail hummed happily as Frankie’s hand ghosted down his back to the zipper. “Stop playing around,” Ghost said, his words less sharp. He held up his hat-tails to make it easier for Frankie to work on the zipper.

Frankie could hear it, the hint of enjoyment in Ghost’s voice. Was he always this sensitive to touch or was it this transparent body of his? Frankie was curious but he did as Ghost asked. He fiddled gently with the zipper. It had indeed gotten a bit of the fabric caught up in its teeth. The dress fit Ghost’s body perfectly making it so that Frankie had to slip his hand into the dress to get the correct angle to pull the fabric out. As he coaxed the fabric out of the zipper, his hand lightly brushed the upper part of Ghost’s butt. It was much softer than he had expected. In fact, Ghost’s transparent body looked plasticy but it actually had a rather soft silky feel to it. It made touching him rather pleasant.

Ghost also found the tickle of Frankie’s working hands against his back to be something he surprisingly enjoyed. The sound of his gears working and his gentle electronic hum set Ghost at ease in a way Switchblade and Olivia were never able to do. Without meaning to, his tail flicked up and down Frankie’s side as if it were looking for something to hold.

“What are you doing?” Frankie asked, his voice holding a hint of amusem*nt. He stopped his fiddling as Ghost’s tail reached around his waist to his back.

Ghost made a small glitching-like gasp. His shoulder hunched up once more and he willed his tail back. “It’s been on the fritz all night,” Ghost said, his words only half ture. While it had been sparking up a storm, he had been in control of its movement without any issue.

“Whatever you say, Carbon,” Frankie said, finally getting the frantic loose from the zipper. In a moment, he finished zipping up the rest of the dress stopping just at Ghost’s mid-back. He gently rested his hand on the exposed part of Ghost’s back and gave it a gentle pat. Ghost’s tail did a funny little quiver of pleasure. “All done,” he whispered.

Ghost’s tail gave a small spark as he stepped away from Frankie. “Th-Thank you,” he said, turing around to face the rainbow bot. He had his signature pout on as he played with the tails of his hat. “I wish I had something better to wear than this f*cking thing.” He peaked over at Frankie as if he expected the rainbow bot to produce a new hat.

All Frankie could do was shrug. He had nothing else for Ghost to change into other than what was in the closet.

Ghost huffed loudly out of his snout. The hat he wore clashed horribly with the dress as it was. On top of that, it was the exact same black hat as the Robotic Fizzarolli waiting staff and that simply wouldn’t do. Not ready to give up, Ghost scoured the closet for anything he could use to spruce up his hat. All he came up with in the end was a bedazzled scrunchy and a golden rose barrette.

“It’s better than nothing,” he grumbled half to himself and half to Frankie. Without a mirror to look into, he turned to the rainbow robot. “Care to help a guy out,” he said, holding the two pieces out for Frankie to take.

Frankie smiled, holding back a snicker as he took the two items from Ghost. “You know, these are meant for hair, not hats,” he teased, giving the end of Ghost’s black hat a playful flick.

“f*ck you,” Ghost pouted, crossing his arms. “You know I can’t walk out there without doing something to this stupid thing,” Ghost said, giving the hat tails a flip. His own tail buzzed like a bee at its kink as if to agree with him.

“You could just go without,” Frankie further teased, knowing damn well this would get a rise out of the other.

Ghost cheeks puffed out as he sent Frankie a world-record pout. “You know damn well it’s a hot mess under there,” he said, his tail finally snapping loudly. “Are you going to help me, or not!?”

Frankie grinned, happy with the explosive reactions he got out of Ghost. For whatever reason, he always enjoyed the way the other pouted when teased. “Calm down, Princess,” Frankie said, giving Ghost’s pouty cheek a poke. He then placed a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and gave him a 180 spin.

“Ack!” Ghost shouted, falling back into Frankie. He hadn’t expected the other to turn him around so suddenly. “f*ck, warn a guy first, would ya!”

Frankie very smoothly caught Ghost as if he knew the other would stumble back. With a proud smile, he helped Ghost right himself. “Keep still while I do my work, Princess,” he said, taking up the hat tails in his hands.

“Just don’t make it look stupid,” Ghost mumbled. He crossed his arms as he felt the gentle tug of Frankie getting to work.

“f*cking Relax,” Frankie replied, ghosting his finger down Ghost’s exposed back. This won him a shiver from the transparent bot and, feeling rather proud of himself, Frankie snickered.

Ghost grumbled a very incoherent, “f*ck you,” but didn’t dare move to make sure Frankie didn’t mess up.

As Frankie worked, he posed the hat in many different positions. First, he pulled it up into a ponytail but quickly decided it was far too casual a look for the night. Next, he tried a low ponytail, but it also didn’t quite match the vibe. After that, he did a tight bun but that simply didn’t match Ghost’s personality. Finally, he settled on a looser bun where the tail ends were able to stick out in a fun playful manner. The look fit Ghost in every way.

As Frankie secured the bedazzled scrunchy around the bun he felt something brushing up against his leg. He looked down and, just as he suspected, Ghost’s tail had found its way to him. The thin clear appendage brushed his leg in a very familiar manner. Frankie, having a tail himself, knew that this behavior was a sign of affection and for some reason, this made him happier than he would admit.

“Looks like your tail is at it again, Carbon,” Frankie whispered into Ghost’s ear.

Ghost gave a small gasp and, quick as a flash, his tail was snatched up in his hands and held close. “Stupid f*cking thing,” he grumbled to himself. The lights in his body glowed once more in embarrassment. Unfortunately for Ghost, Frankie could easily see how bright the transparent bot had become.

Frankie released an affectionate snicker as he placed the golden rose pin into Ghost’s hat. Satisfied with his work, he gave Ghost’s shoulders a gentle pat and he said, “All done. Now turn around so I can get a good look at my work from the front.”

Ghost did as he was told and turned to face Frankie. He held his tail close as he waited for Frankie to give his verdict. For whatever reason, Ghost found himself feeling uncharacteristically shy as Frankie looked him up and down.

Much to Frankie’s surprise, Ghost looked stunning in his outfit. The tealish glow of his green and blue lights from within gave the bot an almost ethereal look. The light pink sparkling dress and Ghost’s natural color contrast in the best way possible. There was an elegance in the way Frankie had done up his hat as well. The diamond on Ghost’s forehead shimmered clear and beautiful. For a moment, the rainbow bot found himself at a loss for words.

“Well…” Ghost said when the other said nothing. “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” Frankie said without a second thought.

“R-Really?” Ghost replied, a little shocked the other hadn’t teased him about one thing or another.

Frankie, realizing what he had just said, felt himself calm up a bit. The freckles on his cheeks lit up in embarrassment. “I mean, thanks to my awesome hat work. It totally saved the look,” he said, his tail giving a sassy little flick.

With one hand on his hip, Ghost could make out the embarrassment in Frankie. With a fair amount of sass of his own, he leaned close to the rainbow bot so that their snouts almost touched. “Thank you for the awesome work,” he said, playing gently with the tail of Frankie’s hat.

“No problem,” Frankie replied, his voice a little higher than normal. The embarrassment he felt still lingered and his freckles still glowed. For a moment neither robot said anything. They both seemed to enjoy the closeness.

Ghost smiled brightly before taking Frankie by the arm. “Now, let’s get going instead of wasting our night away in here,” he said, pulling Frankie to the door. “There’s a golden chocolate fountain with our names on it!”

Frankie pulled back just as Ghost was about to open the door. “Wait!” he practically shouted, taking Ghost by the wrist and pulling him away from the door.

Groaning with impatience, Ghost turned to Frankie and asked, “What now!?” He could feel the precious few hours they had tonight ticking away.

“You’re face,” Frankie blatantly pointed out. “You know over half the demons in there are going to recognize who you are.” He looked at Ghost as if this should have been obvious.

Ghost’s cheeks puffed out into a pout once more. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it? I didn’t bring anything to cover up my face except that stupid white face mask you gave me and I am NOT wearing that to the party.” He gave his foot a stomp to emphasize his displeasure. “After getting in here this far I am NOT missing out on tonight!”

Frankie slipped up beside Ghost quickly, taking the other bot around the shoulder. “Calm down, Princess. I got you covered,” he reassured. At his reassurance, he felt the tension in Ghost’s shoulders loosen.

“What?” Ghost asked, peeking at Frankie expectantly.

With a flick of his wrist, Frankie produced a silky black veil and what looked to be a large crystal rose-shaped pin. “This should work in covering up the majority of that shining face of yours,” Frankie said, passing the veil to Ghost. “And this will cover up that gaudy thing,” he added, giving the diamond on Ghost’s forehead a flick.

Ghost flinched at Frankie’s finger and missed so gloriously that he slapped himself in the face. “f*cking, dick,” he grumbled as Frankie snickered.

“Do you need me to help you put these on?” Frankie asked, his tone teasing.

“No!” Ghost sharply replied before turning away from Frankie to put the veil on himself. Feeling rather flustered now, he struggled to secure the rose clip to the rim of his hat. The large shimmering embellishment sat crookedly from his hat. When he straightened himself out and turned to face Frankie, he was met with a snicker. This only caused Ghost to frown further. “Well, I don’t have a f*cking mirror,” he said from behind his veil.

Frankie shook his head like you do when you see someone doing something enduringly ridiculous. “Let me right that for you, Princess,” he said, gently adjusting the rose so that it covered all of Ghost’s large diamond. The accessory was just barely large enough to do the job but from the right angle, you could still make out the diamond under it.

“Why do you keep calling me princess?” Ghost asked, his arms crossed with a hint of shyness in his voice. His tail threatened to wind around him to greet Frankie once more but Ghost did all he could to keep it in place.

“Because today, you're so demanding of pampering,” Frankie teased.

“It’s not my fault the zipper of this dress was so f*cking stupid,” Ghost said, consciously grabbing his unruly tail and holding it back so it wouldn’t tickle at Frankie’s leg again.

“I didn’t know you were so shy, Carbon,” Frankie said, catching Ghost’s efforts to keep his broken tail at bay.

“I just don’t wanna shock you,” Ghost said. His inner lights glowed bright once more. “It’s been acting up all night.”

Frankie laughed at this before stepping back. “All done,” he said, admiring his work. The rose was secure enough that it would likely stay put all night as long as Ghost didn’t go too crazy.

“How do I look?” Ghost asked. He nervously fiddled with his tail buzzing tail.

If Frankie was being honest, Ghost looked ridiculous with that gaudy rose on his forehead. His natural forehead daimon had been the more elegant decoration but he wasn’t going to tell Ghost this. “You look like a million bucks, Carbon,” Frankie said.

Without missing a beat, Ghost took Frankie by the wrist once more. “Good! Now, let’s get the f*ck out of here before all the éclairs at the dessert table are gone.” With that, he tugged Frankie to the door.

Frankie didn’t resist as the other bot pulled him along. Almost like he had a built-in homing system in him, Ghost turned his way through the halls knowing exactly where he was headed. The normally directionally challenged robot didn’t reference a single floor map, yet in less than three minutes the two bots were sneaking in through a back entrance labeled ‘staff only’.

Knowing that Ghost had very little self-preservation, Frankie took the lead at this point. Peeking through the door, he carefully scanned the room for Kuan and Switchblade. It took him a good few minutes but he eventually found them sitting all the way on the other side of the ballroom by the buffet table. It looked like Kuan was going to town on a plate of crab legs.

“It looks like we’re going to have to wait it out a bit before we can hit up the desserts,” Frankie said to Ghost before slipping out from behind the door.

“What? Why?” Ghost said in his signature wine. He swiftly followed after the other robot.

“Old rust bucket and Fluffy have set up camp there. But once it’s time for Fluffy to showcase her art they’ll likely move on,” Frankie said, taking Ghost by the hand and leading him away from the door.

“Ugh, f*cking SB always getting in the way,” Ghost groaned, allowing Frankie to pull him along. Very quickly his grimace turned into a smile when his eyes caught sight of a sparkling necklace displayed on a table full of other various jewelry.

The two found themselves amongst tables upon tables of custom accessories all shining and extravagant. The demons lingering around the displays paid very little attention to the two bots. Just like Ghost, their attention was on the accessories. From the moment his eyes landed on the shining objects, the éclairs and dessert table were the last thing on Ghost’s mind. With an extra spring in his step, he skipped to the table with the gaudy necklace.

Without asking the artist behind the table, he brushed his fingers across the large rubies that bordered a shining sapphire on the golden necklace’s pendant. It had been ages since Ghost had been able to touch anything like this besides his own face. His glowing green eyes only grew as they landed on a rose gold tiara tipped with sparkling diamonds. He picked up the accessory and put it on his head before turning to Frankie.

“What do ya think?” Ghost asked, his smile shining behind his veil.

“Now you really look like a princess, Carbon,” Frankie said, crossing his arms. “The rose gold clashes with your natural complexion, though.”

Ghost snout twisted as he turned around to look at himself in the mirror. Frankie was right, it just didn’t look perfect on him. Very swiftly he removed it from his head and placed it on the table. “Good call,” he mumbled, as he eyed the rest of the table.

Frankie stood beside Ghost looking at all it had on display. While he wasn’t nearly as outwardly enthusiastic as Ghost about shopping, he still enjoyed a good accessory from time to time. Nothing at the table caught the rainbow bot’s eye and soon both bots moved on to another table featuring another jeweler and their work.

Ghost had always spent a good portion of his time at the gala hitting up the art accessory section. He had accumulated a huge collection of shining trinkets in his time working under Mammon. Necklaces, bracelets, pendants, and even bedazzled barrettes were just a few of the things he had collected. It filled him with a sense of nostalgia and familiarity as he picked up each piece that caught his eye. As he tried them on, he looked at himself in the mirror and smiled in the way you do when you’ve come back to a place you love.

All the while, Frankie watched the other bot at work. Never before had he spent time with Ghost at any sort of event. The rainbow bot found it amusing how Ghost would seek his opinion on every piece and seriously take his answer to heart.

“What about this gold ring?” Ghost asked, holding out his transparent hand for Frankie to look at. On his ring finger was a golden ring that was twisted to look like the vines of a plant.

“Come on, Ghost. You and I both know this ring ain’t you,” Frankie replied with a head shake.

Ghost’s cheek puffed out as he looked down at the ring. Once again, Frankie was right. The color wasn’t the problem this time but the design was. What was he thinking going for a table with all nature themed accessories? On top of that, the ring itself just looked odd floating on his transparent finger. With how bright it was and how pale the rest of him was, it left the ring looking like it was just floating in midair.

Without a word, Ghost removed the ring, placed it on the table, and aimlessly headed to another table. His excitement was waning a little at this point. He had experienced something very similar when first trying to find the right nail polish for his new body. Things just didn’t look the same and the colors he used to love simply didn’t look right on him anymore.

“What about that table,” Frankie said, pointing out a table with large towering crystals decorating its surface. There wasn’t a spec of the familiar yellow glow of gold at the table nor any shimmering diamonds. Though it was filled with just as many sparkling accessories as the other tables, there was a sense of regalness missing. It wasn’t something Ghost ever would have picked out himself but he shrugged and followed Frankie over to it.

Once at the table, Ghost found that most of the jewelry was white gold. From the necklaces to the rings to the brooches, everything was glimmering that silvery color of white gold. Ghost had never once found himself attracted to this variety of gold but in the moment, he found it quite beautiful.

The two robots examined the table taking their time to look at each piece. Ghost had to admit that from afar the table didn’t appear exciting but close up each piece was as elegant as the next. In fact, not a single accessory came off as overdone. Ghost couldn’t make up his mind on what to try on first.

“Why don’t you try this one?” Frankie said, holding up a necklace with a heart-shaped locket.

Ghost took the necklace from Frankie and examined it closely. Decorating the front of the heart was a large moonstone. Beside the stone a unicorn’s head was carved into the gold. With a small smirk, he looked up from the necklace to Frankie and said, “You would pick the one with a unicorn on it.”

“I picked it because it’s the best necklace at the table,” Frankie retorted, his tail flicking in a very sassy manner.

Ghost rolled his eyes but did find that he liked the necklace. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try it on. Unclasping it, he wrapped the necklace around his neck. He fumbled with the clasp as he tried to fasten it shut. “Stupid thing!” he grumbled to himself. Looking in the small mirror provided did nothing to help him with his dilemma.

“Let me help you, princess,” Frankie said, his snout so close to Ghost’s ear that a shiver ran down the transparent bot’s back. Frankie smiled wickedly, getting the exact reaction he had hoped for. Without waiting for an answer, he took the claps from Ghost and fastened them together. Once he was done, he gently rested the necklace against the back of Ghost’s neck, brushing his fingers along the base of his neck as he did so.

“Thank you,” Ghost said, doing his best to not show just how pleasant he had found the whole interaction. With a small frown on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. He lets the necklace hang naturally and realizes that he absolutely loves it.

The white gold chain didn’t stand out funny against his transparent neck. The white pearly gem reflected rainbows and stood out handsomely from the necklace. The necklace wasn’t as wildly eye-catching as the things he used to wear, but somehow he liked how its subtlety gave off an elegance he had never really been able to capture before.

From the glow of his eyes to the smile behind his veil, it was clear Ghost was in love with the necklace. Before any word was passed between the two bots, Frankie whipped out his credit card and passed it to the woman running the stand. “The necklace,” was all Frankie said, motioning at Ghost.

Ghost looked from the mirror to Frankie in shock. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone showing just how bewildered he felt.

“Buying you the necklace,” Frankie said with a small shrug. There was a twinkle in his star-shaped optics but the rainbow bot worked hard to keep his expression natural.

For a moment not a single word left Ghost’s mouth. A small buzz could be heard from the kink in his tail. From his back, Frankie could see the gears in his body speeding up in the way they often did when Ghost got excited. The lights within him brightened like a blush. It was clear the bot was at odds with how he felt.

“Y-you don’t–” Ghost tried to say only for his voice to glitch. “Th-Thank you…” He held the cham in his open palm as he looked at it. Not since waking up at Olivia’s had he been gifted something this extravagant.

Frankie smiled proudly. “You’re welcome, Carbon,” he replied, his tail giving a very satisfied flick.

Ghost smiled at Frankie, the most genuine smile the rainbow bot had ever seen. Though Frankie couldn’t see Ghost’s mouth, there was an intimacy in the way he looked at Frankie. Ghost’s eye then returned to the necklace. Very gently he traced his finger around the stone and unicorn. His smile became soft and gentle in a way that anyone who knew Ghost would have trouble recognizing him. It was clear the transparent bot was happier than he’d ever been before.

At seeing this soft side of the other bot, Frankie felt himself become flustered. The horn on his forehead glowed gently and his freckled cheeks lit up. He cleared his throat in an attempt to compose himself. “You can thank Kuan, actually. It was her idea to buy you a little something tonight,” he lied. He and Kuan had not once spoken to each other about buying anything for anyone tonight but Frankie didn’t know if his system could handle Ghost’s soft behavior much longer.

“R-Really? Kuan said that?” Ghost asked, looking puzzled. He studied Frankie, not fully convinced of the lie. When he noticed the glow of Frankie’s freckles, his lips curved into a smile. “Well, I guess all thanks goes to her and none goes to you?” Ghost purred, giving Frankie a bump with his hip.

“Well, I mean– I was on my card so–” Frankie said, not seeming to like the idea of Kuan getting all the credit.

“I didn’t know you could be so shy, Paint Job,” Ghost snickered, his snout scrunching as he smiled up at Frankie. He took a step closer to Frankie so that their shoulders touched. His tail once again teased at Frankie’s leg. This didn’t go unnoticed by the other bot.

Seeing his chance, Frankie took it. “Well, at least I have full control over my tail,” he teased just as Ghost’s tail gave a loud snap.

Without a beat, Ghost grabbed his tail and took a large step to the side. Somehow, this didn’t please Frankie how he had expected it to. The gap between them felt a bit too wide.

“I told you it’s been acting up,” Ghost replied with a mix of embarrassment and shame. He held his tail in his hand and actively kept a gap between himself and Frankie.

A pout returned to Ghost’s face and Frankie regretted upsetting him after seeing him so happy. Not wanting to ruin the mood completely, Frankie scanned the room for their next venture. It took a moment but his eyes eventually landed on just what they needed to lift Ghost’s spirits once more.

“Well, well, well, look who it is,” Frankie said upon seeing Sugar Plum’s display table from across the hall. “I bet that bitch doesn’t have a seller’s license.”

At most galas, one was not meant to be selling unless they were specifically invited to do such. Both Frankie and Ghost knew for a fact that Sugar hadn’t been invited to sell her merchandise, but was invited to only perform a few numbers. It wasn’t the first time the Envy bot had ignored this rule at a gala but it was the first time Ghost and Frankie had run into this as a team. Without a word, the two headed to the table.

“Now, no getting too riled up,” Frankie said in a hiss-like whisper. He had a wicked smile on his face as they encroached closer to the table. He walked with his arm looped through Ghost’s so it was easy for him to whisper into Ghost’s ear. “We wouldn’t want your identity blown.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ghost hissed back, not pulling away from Frankie. He was far too focused on heckling the poor imp running the table to bother himself over his identity.

As the two came closer they noticed that Sugar, her manager, and her bodyguard were nowhere to be seen. Three imps wearing t-shirts with Sugar face were bustling around the booth passing items to those that visited the table. Much to Ghost’s chagrin, the table was far more hopping than he cared to see. The guests were an even mix of sinners and royals who seemed happy to be receiving the latest merchandise of the pastel bot.

Ghost kept a keen eye on the imp passing the items off to people to see if there was any exchange of money. He stood in line behind a rather large royal who paid him and Frankie little mind for being a fan of a Robo Fizz pop star. Ghost’s tail buzzed with annoyance at the amount of fans he saw at the table. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy that someone like her still got to enjoy being in the limelight while he was thought dead by most people in Hell.

“Calm down, Ghost. If you get any more upset, that tail of yours is going to blow,” Frankie said, his tone teasing. It was easy for him to see the annoyance in his friend. With how the pumps in his stomach sped up and his tail buzzed, even the most novice of robot novices would pick up on it. “What’s f*cking got you all bothered anyways? You mad they’re out of Sugar tank tops or something?”

“I’m not upset! f*ck Sugar and her tank tops!!” Ghost snapped so loudly that the demon in front of them double took once he realized the two people behind him were Robo Fizzies. His eyes lingered on the two and he only looked away when the two robots hissed and flipped him off.

Frankie snickered at the transparent bot. His tail gave a sassy confident flick before tickling at Ghost’s exposed back. “Then why are your gears going a mile a minute, Carbon?” Frankie teased. His smile grew larger and more toothy at the way Ghost’s inner lights glowed in embarrassment.

Ghost didn’t stay quiet for long as his signature pout found its way to his lips. “I’m not upset,” he mumbled, averting his eyes and crossing his arms. It’s all he could do to defend himself since it was obviously a lie.

“Don’t worry, Carbon,” Frankie said, giving Ghost’s side a nudge with his elbow. “These nerds won’t know what hit em’ once we’re done with them,” he said, tilting his head toward the table.

This lightened Ghost’s mood a little. He uncrossed his arms and smiled at Frankie. “Why are we even waiting in line?” he asked, giving his head a shake.

Frankie smiled back. “Good point!”

The two snickered as they pushed their way to the front. This seemed to cause a bit of an upset amongst Sugar’s fans as many of them had been waiting their turn patiently, but now there were two robots who thought they could push their way to the front. With indignant gasps and threatening growls, the demons in line didn’t make it easy for Ghost and Frankie to find their way to the front of the line. When they got to the front, about fifty pairs of eyes burned into the back of their heads. Both robots skillfully ignored this.

“E-excuse me, sirs, but everyone has to wait their turn in line,” the imp manning the clothing merchandise said in a high not so confident voice. When he saw the two hooligans were Robotic Fizzarollies, this seemed to take him off guard.

“Listen, jackass, you can’t be selling crap like this here without a permit,” Frankie snapped as if he were the gala’s hired police officer.

“Yeah!” Ghost spat, crossing his arms in what he thought was a menacing way.

The two robots scowled at the imp and for a second, the imp said nothing. He looked from the robots to his two coworkers. None of them seemed to know what to make of Frankie and Ghost.

Ghost looked from the imps to the table. On it, he found shirts of all cuts, keychains, magnets, standees, and even plushies all displaying Sugar front and center. Everything was pastel in shade and obnoxiously covered in ribbons and frills. He scrunched up his snout at the whole lot. From behind the table, tied to a fold-up chair, was the queef Ghost had seen in one of her recent videos. The poor dog wore what looked to be some sort of frilly dress. It quivered in fear on the chair, looking around desperately for someone to reassure it that everything was okay. When it noticed Ghost was looking at it, its tail gave a small wag. Ghost might have felt sorry for it if it didn’t belong to Sugar.

“W-Where are your o-owners?” the imp in charge of the keychains and standees asked. He clearly looked intimidated and a little out of his depth.

“That’s none of your f*cking business,” Frankie sharply repleid.

“Yeah, we’re both totally allowed to be here,” Ghost added, slamming his hand on the table. The bang his hand caused caught the attention of every last demon in line. Many now leaned over or stood on their tip-toe to see what the hold-up was.

“She’s not supposed to be selling merchandise as a performer,” Frankie said, picking up a keychain and giving it a careless twirl around his finger. When it spun to the end of his finger, he let it fall to the floor and didn’t bother to pick it up.

“Yeah!” Ghost spat, getting into the face of one of the other imps. “It’s against the rules!” Not that he ever really put effort into following rules himself.

The three imps looked at each other in uncertainty. It was very likely that none of them knew what the rules were and were just following what they had been told to do. Fortunately for them, they didn’t need to ponder about it too long for just as Frankie was about to threaten to report them, the owner of the table had returned.

“Oh my, whatever is going on here?” Sugar asked as she and her bodyguard slipped behind the table. She still held her sweet girl act strong. “Is there a problem?”

“f*ck yeah there is you glorified loli blow-up doll,” Frankie said, sneering at Sugar Plum.

Ghost, not expecting Sugar to appear as suddenly as she did, quickly turned his back to her. He hunched his shoulders in an attempt to hide his identity. He knew she looked sweet now but he was no stranger to her true self.

Sugar tilted her head to the side, putting on a very confused frown. “Oh, is that you, dear Frankie?” She asked, her tail flicking in a very familiar manner. Her doe-like eyes went from Frankie to Ghost. “And who is this with you? A friend?” She didn’t have much time to study Ghost before Frankie stepped quickly in her line of view. For a moment, her face soured into a sneer as Frankie grinned at her.

“It seems like you’re pretty little head forgot the rules of the gala again Mizz Sugar Plum,” Frankie said sneering back through his smile. “Does that memory bank of yours need a hard reset or something?”

Ghost snickered at the snot-like scoff that left Sugar Plum. It took everything in the pastel robot not to jump over the table and tackle Frankie to the floor. She fiddled with the hem of her dress in an attempt to keep herself composted. “Oh, you’re always so funny, Frankie,” she said, co*cking her head to the side, smiling sweetly at him. “I’m not quite sure what rule you’re talking about.”

“The rule that performers like you aren’t allowed to prey off the guest’s wallets, dumbass,” Ghost replied, from behind Frankie. He kept himself as well hidden as he could but stickered nonetheless.

Sugar Plum’s snout scrunched up at the sound of Ghost’s voice. It sounded far too familiar to her. His insult went unnoticed as Sugar stretched her legs up to see over Frankie. “Who’s the new friend, Frankie?” She asked, catching a glimpse of Ghost’s transparent legs and tail. “They look kind of creepy.”

“My new friend is none of your concern,” Frankie swiftly replied, doing his best to stay between Sugar and Ghost.

“Yeah, I don’t like associating with hoes,” Ghost snickered, unable to help himself. He couldn’t see Sugar but she could hear the staticky gasp she made.

With each moment, Sugar’s patience was running thin. She was only able to put up with so much of Frankie before she lost it. On top of that, the way the mystery robot spoke left her feeling rather angry. It was like a phantom from the past had come back to torment her.

“Listen, here you horribly dressed piece of sh*t. Just because you have some fancy paint job and glittering forehead protrusion doesn’t mean you’re anywhere near as special as I am,” Sugar growled leaning in close to Frankie so that only he could hear her. “A mediocre robot like you might not be able to sell your wares here, but I’m not like you so I suggest you and whoever this annoying bitch is get lost before I make you get lost.”

Both Frankie and Ghost snickered at her threat and this only angered Sugar more. “I’d like to see you make us,” Frankie said.

“Yeah, always all bark and no bite,” Ghost added, his tail giving a small staticy snap. “A wind-up doll who thinks she’s f*cking better than everyone else.” This was quite the statement coming from Ghost who often carried himself as if he were the center of the universe.

Sugar’s snout scrunched and, moving very quickly, she pushed Frankie aside. “Why don’t you say that to my face, bitch!” she snapped. There was something about the strange bot’s voice that irrationally infuriated her.

Immediately, many of Sugar Plum’s fans who could see what was going on pulled out their phones. Never before had they seen the pretty little robot lash out like this. Like hungry paparazzi, they directed their phones at the furious bot. Soon videos and photos of her outburst would likely be littering the internet with headlines like ‘Hell’s Sweet Heart Robot Lashes Out’ and ‘Rainbow vs Powder: Bad Blood In Robo Paradise’. Fortunately for Ghost, most of the attention was on Sugar Plum.

It was too late for Frankie to react. He hadn’t expected Sugar to get physical with him in front of an audience. He knew the strict rules Leviathan made her work under. Hell’s little sweetheart his ass. More like Hell’s craziest robot.

Sugar and Ghost looked each other in the eye for only a moment. The sounds of cameras and the flash of their lights set the backdrop of the two. She couldn’t see much of the mystery bot’s face but under the bright ballroom lights, there was a distinct shine to his complexion, almost as if his head were made from gold. His leering eyes looked far too familiar. In that second something seemed to click in Sugar. Her eyes went from anger to shock. It was like she had seen a ghost.

“Your merchandise is trash!!!” Frankie shouted, picking up several of her shirts and tossing them in her face.

Sugar gasped, clawing at the shirts in an attempt to remove them from her sight. “It can’t be! IT CAN’T BE HIM!” she shrieked. Pixie wasted little time to aid the furious robot.

Frankie took this moment to take Ghost around the wrist and high-tail it out of there. He hadn’t known if Sugar had put two and two together but he was not going to hang around to find out. As they exited through the crowd of fans, Ghost snickered and giggled at the way Sugar had screamed and shouted with a face full of shirts.

By the time Sugar could see again, the two other bots had slithered out of sight. Seething, she scanned the crowd of royals and sinners but they had gotten away. Her face scrunched up in fury as her normally sweet mask cracked and shattered. It couldn’t possibly be true. Diamond was meant to be dead.

Chapter 8: Under the Dessert Table

Chapter Text

The two custom Robotic Fizzarollies giggled and laughed as they staggered away to the far end of the party hall. With a sea of demons between themselves and Sugar Plum, they paid very little mind to the idea of her possibly pursuing them. Frankie knew that her uppity manager would never let her go on a tirade after two other bots. It would ruin her perfect sweet bot image, not that she hadn’t done it a few times in the past.

“Oh, man, did you hear the way she shrieked when you nailed her in the face with those hideous t-shirts,” Ghost cackled, laughing so loudly that several guests looked at them with concern.

“I didn’t even know she could make those sounds,” Frankie said, looking rather proud of himself. He had a swagger in his step as he led the way to the dessert table. After excitement like that, he could refuel on some sugar.

Ghost took Frankie by the arm and gave it a playful squeeze as if he was feeling a muscle. “Who knew you could throw like that with these noodle arms,” he teased. His broken tail fizzled as if it were giggling along with him.

“Not everyone has sh*t depth perception like you do, Carbon,” Frankie teased back, giving Ghost’s silver snout a gentle poke.

Still a bit giddy from having stuck it to Sugar Plum, Ghost giggles despite himself. Instead of snapping back at Frankie, he bumped him with his hip and laughed. “I’m gonna have to work on my aim so I can f*cking nail her with her ugly merchandise someday.”

“Maybe I can give you some throwing lessons,” Frankie said, giving his arm another flex. Being without muscles not much happened, so he bent a little mountain into his noodle arm to give the effect of a muscle. This won him a giggle from Ghost and that only made Frankie’s swagger all the more proud.

“f*ck yeah! You can come to my place and we can use SB as the target,” Ghost said, smiling wickedly from behind his face veil.

Frankie’s stifled laugh sounded like a firecracker that had been set off in a tin can. At the idea of pelting wadded-up t-shirts as Switchblade, his snicker soon grew into a full-on laugh. He had to hold onto Ghost’s shoulder for support so that he wouldn’t fall down. “Oh, Satan, that sounds f*cking amazing,” he said, barely able to get his words out. “That guy could use some f*cking excitement in his life so we’d be doing him a favor.”

“I know, right!” Ghost replied, smiling at the joy he saw in Frankie. There was something about making the rainbow robot laugh that was pleasing to him. He quite liked the fluttery feeling it left in his circuits. “So it’s a date then?”

Frankie pulled himself up, still wearing his sh*t-eating grin. He could see a softness in Ghost he rarely saw and gently placed a hand on his golden cheek. “Sure, Princess, it’s a date,” he smoothly replied.

Ghost’s pumps sped up at the gentle caress of Frankie’s hand on his cheek. Very quickly, he turned away from the rainbow bot and pouted. The lights in his body glowed brightly. He knew when he was being teased. “N-Not a date! A throwing lesson! That’s what I meant to say.” He insisted, not wanting Frankie to see his embarrassment, he wrapped his arms around himself.

It was a futile effort, for Frankie could easily see the way Ghost’s inner workings glowed. For him, reading Ghost was like reading the simplest of books. He often had fun seeing what would get the transparent bot all bashful and what didn’t seem to bother him at all. “Sure… lessons, if that’s what you wanna call it.” he said, coming up beside Ghost and tickling his exposed back with his fingers.

Ghost gasped and gave a jump but by the time he turned around to snap at Frankie, the rainbow bot had already stretched himself to the dessert table. He followed after the other robot with a half frown on his lips. While he looked rather indignant, he did his best not to let it show too much. He usually hated being teased by others, but when it came to Frankie, he found it to be quite fun. He liked to have the rainbow bot’s full attention on himself.

Like a plague of locusts, the two robots picked over the table of snacks. Petit fours, eclairs, cookies, brownies, macarons, puddings, and so many more desserts were piled high onto their plates. When Ghost got to the croquembouche he wasted little time in picking all the cream puffs with the most caramel on them. Frankie’s plate was towered high with decadent desserts ranging from tiramisu to red velvet cake. Soon, both robots couldn’t fit anymore on their plates even if they wanted to.

Ghost, feeling rather excited to finally be digging into desserts dusted with gold leaf, led the way to the dining tables. Not even three strides in did Farnkie grab him from around the middle and pull him back. With a muffled grunt, Ghost juggled his plate of desserts as he stumbled backward only stopping when he bumped into Frankie. Two cream puffs and a macaron fell from his plate to the floor. “What’s the big deal?” He snapped, craning his head back to scowl at Frankie.

“Shut up, you idiot,” Frankie hissed into Ghost’s ear. As if he saw some horrible monster, he stumbled back dragging Ghost with him. “It’s f*cking Switchblade!”

“What!?” Ghost hissed, this time with a hint of fear in his voice. He stopped his struggle and willingly followed after Frankie.

Thinking quickly, Frankie dived under the dessert table, taking Ghost with him. Ghost squawked like a parrot, his head missing the ledge of the table by a centimeter as he was pulled under. Several more of his cream puffs rolled off his plate and onto the floor. Feeling upset that the cream puff he had wanted to eat most had been one of the casualties, he pouted at his plate.

From the glow of Ghost’s body, the under table had a nice blue ambiance. It was just enough light for them to easily see their plates and each other. There wasn’t much space between the legs of the table so the two robots had to sit close to one another. Both weren’t terribly tall so they didn’t need to crouch down too much but it wasn’t the atmosphere Ghost had in mind when he imagined himself eating himself silly at the gala.

For a beat, neither Ghost nor Frankie said a word. They simply looked at one another, both appearing a little shocked at the situation. It was almost like neither knew exactly how they had ended up under a table. Then, a small smile cracked on Frankie’s lips. Slowly, Ghost followed suit. Pretty soon both robots were giggling like kids who just barely got away from the school principal.

“f*ck, that was a close one,” Frankie said, leaning against Ghost. “What the f*ck would we have done if old Rust Bucket had seen us?”

“I would’ve tossed my whole plate of tiramisu at him,” Ghost snickered, returning Frankie’s lean with one of his own. Their tails twisted with glee, winding around each other’s.

Frankie snorted at this, giving his head a shake. “You would have missed by a long shot,” he teased. “We’d have SB on our tails and whoever you nailed with the tiramisu as well,” he said, exaggerating an Italian accent when he said ‘tiramisu’.

“You’re a dick,” Ghost laughed, though he knew Frankie was right. “I’d have you throw it at him since you’re the f*cking start pitcher tonight.”

“Damn right I’m the star pitcher,” Frankie said, giving his eyebrows a waggle. “In more ways than just one.”

“The f*ck does that mean?” Ghost innocently asked, his face twisting in confusion. He gave a small shrug at the way Frankie wiggled his eyebrows and smiled at him. Turning up his silver snout he directed his attention to his plate of desserts. He frowned at seeing only one cream puff left.

“Hey, no sour faces under the sweets table, Carbon,” Frankie said, giving Ghost a playful nudge. “You’re gonna sour the mood.”

“If someone had been more gentle when f*cking yanking me under here, I’d probably still have more of my poor cream puffs. I bet some uppity jackass has stepped on it,” Ghost said, his voice cracking with sorrow.

Frankie rolled his eyes but his smile didn’t fall. “Always the drama queen. What would we do without Princess Carbon to cry over a cream puff,” Frankie said, carrying on with his teasing. His smile only grew at the indignant huff that came from Ghost.

“That’s easy for you to say. You have access to things like this all the f*cking time, but for me this may very well be the last f*cking time I get my hands on cream puffs like this,” Ghost dramatically replied. Though his words sounded comical, he was being completely serious.

Frankie sighed, not wanting to actually upset Ghost, he playfully flicked his tail on Ghost's back. This caused Ghost to wiggle a little but his pride kept him from doing much more than that. “Relax, Princess, there’s more cream puffs up there. It’s not like that croquembouche is gonna go fast and, even if it does, you know they got 10 more in the back waiting to come out.”

Ghost pouted, crossing his free arm. “A lot of good that’s gonna do me! The croquembouche is out there and we’re under here!”

While Ghost’s arm stretch was a far cry from the length of most Robotic Fizzarolli’s, Frankie didn’t have that problem. Smiling proudly, Frankie wiggled his eyebrows at Ghost and said, “One order of cream puffs coming up for the Princess of Pouts.” He then snaked his hand out from under the table.

Ghost’s pout let up as he shifted his weight a little so that Frankie could easily access the table. His tail hummed in interest and his sour mood slowly started to lighten up. The sounds of indignant gasps could be heard from above as Frankie’s hand sloppily wandered down the table for desserts. “Oh, my,” and “My Satan,” from the uppity demons filled the air causing Ghost to snicker.

“How many you want?” Frankie asked, his lips curling with a grin.

“As many as you can grab,” Ghost replied.

Frankie’s tongue peaked out in concentration as he made a grab for the cream puffs. A few more gasps and the loud shout of a woman who got a top full of pudding told Ghost Frankie had missed but soon enough Frankie pulled his hand back under the table. In it, he clutched four very squished cream puffs. Unceremoniously, he dropped them onto Ghost’s plate.

“You’re cream puffs, madam,” the rainbow bot said with a very uppity twang to his voice.

Ghost made a face at the mushed-up mess but couldn’t help but snicker a little. “These are more like cream smashes,” he said, the joke sounding a bit odd as it came out of his mouth.

“Always the witty one,” Frankie teased, giving Ghost’s side a small nudge with his elbow.

Ghost rolled his eyes before picking up his only cream puff that was still round. He popped it into his mouth and melted at its taste almost right away. He thanked the sins that he was built with the ability to taste. While food had no nutritional value for him whatsoever, he enjoyed the sensation of decadent sweets. Frankie followed suit, chowing down on his tiramisu. Unlike Ghost, his body had been built and adapted to use anything sugary or glucose related as fuel. For a good minute, the two bots were silent as they enjoyed their snack.

“f*cking, this is so good,” Ghost moaned in delight as he licked some custard from his golden lips. While Switchblade was one of the best bakers on this level of Hell, there was something to be said about quality ingredients that Olivia just couldn’t afford. Not hesitating a second between each cream puff, he shoved them one after the other into his mouth.

“Hell’s be damned, Ghost, the puffs aren’t gonna run away,” Frankie teased, though he found that he quite enjoyed the enthusiasm he saw in the other bot. It was cute how just a few puff pastries could bring the transparent bot such joy.

“f*ck you,” Ghost said between his stuffed cheeks. There was not a single ounce of malice in his words but instead pure bliss. “Lucifer, I need to know how these f*cking things are made and force SB to make them.”

Frankie shook his head, snickering to himself. “I bet that asshole already knows how to make them but has been holdin’ out on ya.”

“f*ck him,” Ghost said, eating the last of his cream puffs. He then moved on to the macarons. Both bots had slowed down at this point. “This isn’t how I expected to spend my meal tonight, crammed under a table like this, but it’s not really as horrible as I would have thought.”

“Well, it’s always good to try new things out every once in a while,” Frankie nodded.

Ghost eyed a pair of bird-like feet, adorned in gorgeous jewelry and rhinestones, walking past their table. A very sinister smirk found its way to his face. “Hey, watch this,” he said, and without waiting for Frankie’s reply, he flung a wad of tiramisu onto the sparkling decorated feet of some Goecian woman. The woman somehow hadn’t noticed. They both sat quietly as they watched the woman unknowingly walk off with a foot full of dessert.

Frankie snickered before taking a turn for himself. With a spoon full of banana pudding, he flung the goopy mess onto the pant leg of a sinner. They too walked off none the wiser to the mess glooping down their pant leg.

“Nice one,” Ghost giggled like the menace he was.

“These f*cking idiots don’t even notice. They’re probably too busy measuring who has the fattest wallets,” Frankie said before tossing some raspberry mousse onto the sparkling pale blue skirt of some woman.

“f*ck, that’s not gonna come out easily,” Ghost laughed, wishing he could see the reaction of all their victims once they discovered the mess on their clothes.

The two carried on in this manner for a while. Any time they ran out of desserts, Frankie would just stretch his arm out and grab something new. It was always a surprise to see what he found. They made sure not to mess up too many shoes, pants, and skirts in the worry they might be quickly found out.

“I haven’t had this much fun at a gala since….” Ghost thought for a moment before realizing he had never gone to a gala with a friend before. He didn’t finish his statement at this realization.

“What’s up? You eat too much sugar? Is your mouth all gummed up now?” Frankie lightly teased.

“N-No,” Ghost replied, a bit flustered. “It’s just that…” He paused once more unsure if he should admit to never having been to an event with someone that wasn’t a body guard or caretaker.

“What?” Frankie asked, his teasing tone a bit softer. He could see the crease in the golden robot's forehead.

Ghost crossed his arms, averted his eyes, and said, “It’s the first time I’ve been to something like this and had this much fun.” His tail gave a little fizzle of embarrassment. “Usually, I just went with whoever Mammon assigned as my chaperone. You know those assholes never really paid me much attention. They were always too f*cking busy schmoozing.”

“Oh sounds so tough,” Frankie said. “Having to entertain yourself at a ritzy event with quality food and expensive crap as far as the eye could see.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. He knew he sounded silly but the reality was, he never had any friends to speak up back when he went by Diamond. In fact, he hadn’t ever really hung out with anyone until he met Frankie just a few months ago. Every time they were together he always had so much fun. Without meaning to, he leaned against Frankie. He somehow felt a bit lonely at the memory of his caretakers wandering off and leaving him all alone.

“Those assholes would’ve never hid under a table and thrown food at people for fun,” Ghost mumbled. “They probably would’ve stopped me and forced me to behave myself. They never understood me.”

“They probably didn’t want to face the wrath of those demons once they found out the golden robot they were caring for had been starting a secret food fight,” Frankie said, flinging some blackberry compote onto the white shoes of some sinner man.

Ghost cracked a smile as the man slipped on the bit of compote that missed his shoe. He rested his head on Frankie’s shoulder. “I hope those assholes are miserable. Without me, they never would have stepped foot in a place like this. f*ck them.”

“I bet they’re out there on that red carpet now missing your golden ass,” Frankie said, allowing Ghost to use him as a headrest. “You know, it’s been a while since I’ve had this much fun at one of these stuffy events, too,” he carelessly hummed. He had gone back to eating his desserts instead of tossing them out from under the table.

“Mhm,” Ghost quietly replied. At this point, he was rather relaxed and was dreamily examining the necklace Frankie had bought for him. He tranced the gem on its front with his finger as he took in its intricate design.

“Fluffy isn’t one for causing chaos, ya know,” Frankie carried one, watching Ghost as he fiddled with the necklace. “She’s about as fun as Switchblade minus the panic attacks.”

Ghost snickered at this. “I bet it was hilarious to see SB all panicky.”

“It was but those two were about as fun as a box full of rocks,” Frankie sighed.

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to keep things exciting.”

“Life has been a bit boring since your disappearance,” Frankie admitted. Ghost always somehow brought a spark of excitement everywhere he went that Frankie hadn’t noticed until Ghost came back into his life. “It’s not been the same.”

At this point, the two bots were quite relaxed. With his sweets fix satiated and a new shimmering necklace, Ghost’s guard had gone down. He melted into Frankie, feeling happier than ever before. Despite hiding under the dessert table, in the moment, there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

“Well, I’m here to stay so you won’t have to worry about being bored ever again,” Ghost teased, peeking up at Frankie.

Frankie glanced down at Ghost, his star-shaped optics flickering a bit as the two robots’ eyes met. A comfortable silence overcame both of them. In the blue glow of the light, Ghost found Frankie looking rather charming. He felt the need to snuggle up closer to him. It was a strange sensation he’d never felt before. He smiled at Frankie.

Frankie also found himself at a loss of words. Never before had he noticed just how cute Ghost was. The ditzy transparent bot had been nothing but annoying in the past but now Frankie felt his circuits flutter just by looking at him. A very warm happiness overcame him.

“Y’ know, Ghost…” Frankie started, scooting up closer to the other bot.

Ghost very enthusiastically scooted towards Frankie. “Yeah?”

Uncertain of what exactly he was going to say Frankie stuttered, “I never realized this before but you’re actually pretty cu–”

*ZAP*

Like a firecracker, the kink in Ghost’s tail gave a rather large spark. Both robots jumped away from one another at its angry snap. Before either robot could react any further, the tablecloth was pulled up. A rather angry-looking security guard leered at them. His eyes went from Frankie to Ghost and when they saw the transparent bot, he made a grab for him.

“Ack!” Ghost cried, shuffling out of the way just in time.

“Hey! You get back here,” the security man shouted. He went in for another grab but this time Frankie lunged at his arm causing him to topple over onto the dessert table.

Without missing a beat, Frankie grabbed Ghost by the arm and pulled them both out from under the table. “Run, Carbon!” He said as they headed to the giant golden chocolate fountain. It would give them cover as they regrouped.

“What the f*ck! Why is that guy chasing me?” Ghost cried as he followed after Frankie. Fortunately for them, the security guards had caused several desserts to fall from the tablet onto his own head giving them time to get away.

Frankie wasn’t sure but he had a feeling this was all thanks to Sugar Plum. With a sneer, he pulled Ghost behind the fountain.

“f*ck, what’re we gonna do!?” Ghost cursed, scowling at the golden fountain. “I’m not ready to go home yet.”

“Just calm down,” Frankie snapped, peeking out from behind the fountain to get a lay of the land. He stretched his legs tall to get a better vantage point.

Ghost huddled closer to him, looking the other way to cover their back. He was both angry and a bit scared. Suddenly all of Switchblade’s warning of being found by Mammon and ripped apart bubbled up in his mind. He had always told himself Mammon would never do such a thing, but now he wasn’t so sure he wanted to test that.

“Listen, Ghost if we head to the garden maybe we can–”

“I KNEW IT!!! I KNEW IT WAS YOU!! DIAMOND!!!”

Ghost whipped around to see a fuming Sugar Plum. There was murder in her heart-shaped eyes as she stomped her pretty little feet towards the transparent bot. Her normally sweet smile was now gone and replaced with pure toothy fury.

Alarmed and confused, Ghost lifted his hand to his face to find his veil gone. sh*t! He had taken it off to eat. Unsure what to do, he grabbed and pushed at Frankie in a panic. “Fuuuuuuck! Why her!? Why her!?” Ghost blubbered in a blind fear.

“Whoa, c-calm down!!!” Frankie snapped as he lost his footing. His words didn’t seem to reach Ghost and with each panicked push from the transparent bot, he lost his footing more and more. Before he knew it, he fell face-first into the chocolate fountain.

“Frankie!” Ghost shrieked in horror. He didn’t know if he should jump in with the rainbow bot or run.

“I can’t believe you two are working together!!!” Sugar Plum shrieked, lunging for Ghost.

Not missing the murder in her eyes, Ghost abandoned Frankie in lew of keeping out of harm’s way. He headed back in the direction of the dessert table only to come to a halt as the security guard pulled himself up off the floor. From behind he could hear Sugar’s wretched screams. In a blind panic, he recalled Frankie mentioning the garden. Yes! That place was like a maze! He could lose them in there! With his clear hands over his face, he did his best to hide his identity as he rushed to the garden’s entrance.

Confused, dazed, and dripping from head to toe in chocolate, Frankie sat himself up in the fountain. “f*ck…” The rainbow bot gasped, snapping his head up, he only had a second to locate Ghost and when he did, he saw him disappear into the garden. Close behind him was the security guard and not far behind that was Sugar Plum in a blind rage. A sudden sick feeling overcame Frankie. He had to make sure Sugar Plum didn’t get her hands on Ghost.