Weaved Strings -A Demo-

Noid

The bitter taste of wine coated his throat as he slowly nursed his drink, his mind was absolutely realing. There was another version of himself here. A version that apparently has never owned a country or has been to war multiple times. His body had planted itself into the small couch that was in Cellbit's office and hasn't moved since it made contact.

He didn't know what to do with this information.

The wineglass sat comfortably in his scarred palm as he stared blankly at the wooden floor below him, what would this other Quackity say when they met? Would he be surprised? In disbelief? How similar were they? What was his motivation?

"You alright there?" Cellbit asked, his gruff voice snapping him out of his rambling thoughts.

He looked up from the floor and locked eyes with the man, he cleared his throat, "I'm fine, just thinking."

Cellbit nodded, "Mind if I pick your brain?"

Quackity shook his head and gestured for the man to take a seat. The Brazilian pulled one of the arm chairs closer to the couch and sat back into it, unlike before he had no notebook but instead a steaming cup of coffee.

"How are you dealing?"

Quackity shrugged, "How would you feel if you learned there was another version of you out there?"

A quiet chuckle left Cellbit's mouth, "I guess that's fair."

He took another sip of his wine, "It must be weird looking at another version of your friend."

"It is... definitely odd, you two look similar but completely different."

"What is he like?"

Cellbit let out a long sigh and leaned further back into his chair, "Well for starters he isn't dressed like some mob boss."

Quackity let out a humorless laugh but didn't open his mouth to speak, Cellbit stared at him for a moment before carrying on.

"He's kind, an asshole but kind. He... used to have a daughter but sadly lost her to an accident, the whole thing has really messed him up. We try to help but can only do so much."

The words twisted in his chest like a knife, this other version of him had a child? He remembers when he first created Las Nevadas, he wanted to make a place safe enough to possibly have and raise a family. It was an idiotic and overly bold idea but he was convinced it would happen one day... At least one version of him got to experience it, even if it was temporary.

"What else?" He pushed.

"Well, It's a long story but there is this organization called The Federation, they basically run this island but my organization, The Order, fights against their rule... anyways our Quackity has recently gotten close to them and has done some... questionable stuff."

"Questionable stuff?"

Cellbit nodded, "I don't know if it's my place to say, I wouldn't want you to have any opinions about him before you officially meet."

Quackity downed the rest of his wine and set it on the small coffee table, "Cellbit, you don't know half of the shit I have gone through, there is nothing you can tell me that wouldn't make me hate myself any less."

He could see a mix of emotions swirl behind the Brazilians eyes; intrigue, confusion, sadness. Cellbit set his coffee cup into his lap and shook his head, "I hear what you're saying, I feel it'll be better if you two talk about it."

"Fine," He leaned further into the coach and fidgeted with his hands. He could feel Cellbit's eyes bore holes into him as he seemingly analyzed everything small thing about him, "¿Dónde está roier?"