Preface

Work Your Way Out
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/17123501.

Rating:
General Audiences
Archive Warning:
No Archive Warnings Apply
Category:
Gen
Fandom:
Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Relationship:
⸢Signet⸣ & Grand Magnificent
Character:
⸢Signet⸣ (Friends at the Table), Grand Magnificent
Additional Tags:
Character Study, 5 Times, Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Missing Scene, Ambiguous Friendship
Language:
English
Series:
Part 3 of Author's Favorites
Collections:
Yuletide 2018
Stats:
Published: 2018-12-23 Words: 2,877 Chapters: 1/1

Work Your Way Out

Summary

Four Meetings Unknowing of What the Future Held; Two Letters Sent Through Space on Faith; and One Conversation, Chosen with Open Eyes

We'll go down this road 'til it turns from color to black and white
Or do you not think so far ahead?

Notes

thinking about you - frank ocean

Work Your Way Out

1. Working

“There’s a designer who might be able to help you.” Cascara flipped through a deck of business cards of varying sizes and colors, and stopped on one that seemed, generously, ostentatious. She held the glittering black card out. “His name is Grand Magnificent.”

⸢Signet⸣ raised an eyebrow, but took the card. It was holographic, designs almost projecting off the thick paper as she tilted it. A schematic of private ship that reminded ⸢Signet⸣ of an unopened flower, which spread open as she moved the card. A full rendering of a mecha suit modeled off a flock of birds, the center turning pale to reveal the person inside. A perfect image of a glove covered in wire tracery that ⸢Signet⸣ had to believe would mean something to another engineer. And, in the center of it all, the name Grand Magnificent in raised letters that looked as if they had gears and pistons moving within them, along with the suggestion of sunlight glistening.

“He may be a little difficult to work with,” Cascara continued, as ⸢Signet⸣ contemplated how she felt about this card and what it said about the man who had designed it. “However, if you need information about unusual mechs, he’ll be able to tell you—out of professional pride, if nothing else.” The small smile at the edge of Cascara’s mouth was at odds with the tension in her eyes, but no more than usual with this case; malevolently malfunctioning personal transport devices struck closer to home for her than many cases the Beloved investigated.

“Thank you,” ⸢Signet⸣ murmured. She hesitated. “Do I need to make an appointment with him? He seems like he would prefer that.”

Cascara waved a hand; uncertainty. “I’m told he likes novelty and excitement. I’m sure being asked to help solve a case will appeal to him, if you frame it correctly.”

⸢Signet⸣ nodded. She’d appeal to the thrill of being part of a detective story, then. It might not be honest—people read the stories, watched the serials, and didn’t realise how much time was spent waiting and sorting through files—but it would be true: Grand Magnificent could help catch the person who had created this issue, if he was as clever as Cascara believed.

She did call him, but only once she’d arrived on Memorious. The shuttleport hummed with activity, but just off it there was a waiting room with privacy-screened phonebooths, so that the rest of the port was muffled and could not disturb the spider-silk Mesh connections weaving through the ship. ⸢Signet⸣ called Grand Magnificent from there. The panel underneath her hands warmed as the connection firmed, though the screen in front of her face continued showing the pixelated wave that meant the other end wasn’t picking up.

After a minute, the panel cleared, and the pixels colored and resolved into a face. “This is Grand Magnificent, mech designer and creator extraordinaire. I’m working at the moment. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you later.”

⸢Signet⸣ waited until the panel flashed pink and gold, letting her know that the message had ended, and then said, “This is ⸢Signet⸣, an agent of the Beloved Dust. We have some business that I would like to discuss at your earliest convenience.”

“Message recorded,” Grand Magnificent’s voice said, and then the screen settled into blank ambience. ⸢Signet⸣ sat back, pulled out a deck of cards, and began playing solitaire as she waited.

Half an hour later, the screen lit up again. ⸢Signet⸣ gathered her cards and placed her hands on the panel to allow it to connect. This time, Grand Magnificent didn’t seem as flawlessly put together; she saw an oil stain on his forehead, and the impression of a welding mask on his skin. His voice was still just as brash as his card, though: “Your summons was impressively vague; what do you want me to make for you?”

“I want you to help me catch a criminal,” ⸢Signet⸣ said.

He paused, eyes wide and mouth opening and closing for a moment before he broke into a giant grin. “Great! Cool! That sounds fabulous. Are we doing a phone consult, or are you coming to my office? I can take a break from my work to meet you.”

“Your office would be preferable,” ⸢Signet⸣ said.

“Fantastic. I need an hour to settle my current project. You have my address?”

“I do. Thank you for your time; I’ll see you then.” ⸢Signet⸣ closed the line. He didn’t seem as off-putting as his card, fortunately. She smiled, a little, and stood. This would be an interesting day.

 

2. Independence

⸢Signet⸣ watched Grand Magnificent, standing so small next to the soldiers he had met on Quire, and wondered what he had done, to have his face twisted so tightly shut. He had been so open, so fascinated by everything, when she had met him on Memorious, and now he looked so scared. Everything about his body language said that he was shuttered, closed off. Unwinding those emotions would take more time than they had.

As they descended to Volition and she learned that he had built Independence’s body, ⸢Signet⸣ wondered, distantly, if it really should’ve been more of a surprise.

So in the end, she didn’t talk to him. She didn’t know what there was to say, not when Belgard murmured in her heart and Chthonic flashed flowers and formless clouds in front of her face. She was already surrounded by Divinity; he was reaching towards it, burning himself to ashes.

And then, when she did find the words—

Then, Independence spoke to Grand Magnificent, and asked him to be its Candidate, and he stood there with a gun in his hand and could not reply.

Then, Chthonic acted first, shattering glass across the cavernous heart of Independence’s old body, dissolving a beautiful mech in front of its frozen maker.

Then, all she could do was watch Grand Magnificent pick up some of the pieces and walk away.

 

3. Drinking

Grand Magnificent recognised her, but doubted she recognised him. It was easy to remember Excerpts now that there were so few. Especially when the last time they’d talked, he’d— the work of his hands had tried to destroy everything she cared about. Even if he had fled, after that disaster, abandoned his work and his colors in favor of simpler things, he’d kept track of her. It would’ve been harder to avoid keeping track of her, honestly; she worked in the public eye and pulled it towards herself. Magnetic. Intentional. If she hadn’t already had a Divine, he almost would have wanted to design something for her, after working alongside her.

But he wasn’t doing that, anymore. He pushed that thought aside, took another sip of his beer, and watched ⸢Signet⸣ slowly circle the bar. She was doing a good job of not looking like an Excerpt; she didn’t have any religious symbols, and her clothing looked plainer than any media images of her. She couldn’t hide the way she moved: the belief that she was something special was in every line of her body, and even though Grand Magnificent didn’t think everyone else could see it, it was so clear to him from every time he looked in the mirror.

Finally, after spending five minutes covertly staring at her, Grand Magnificent sighed and signalled the bartender. “Send her a rainbow daiquiri from me,” he told them. The bartender nodded, and Grand Magnificent returned to staring at the newsreel scrolling along the top of the walls, the crisp sound of paper almost but not quite hidden beneath the noises of everyone else in the bar. He liked this one. Nobody got into fights, but nobody tried to tell him he didn’t look good enough to be drinking in it, either. The amber-and-gold jellyfish aquariums provided mood lighting with its own touch of incongruous beauty, and Grand Magnificent kept himself from thinking about how he could improve the design by not looking too closely.

⸢Signet⸣ slid into the seat next to him. “Thank you for the drink,” she said, and her voice was just as cautious as he remembered.

Grand Magnificent shrugged and kept his eyes fixed forward. “You looked like you didn’t know what you wanted. I’ve got a bit of extra money.”

“I appreciate it. People don’t do me favors much, not without strings attached.”

I’ll bet, Grand Magnificent thought. Out loud, he didn’t say anything, just took another drink of his own. The alcohol’s aftertaste burnt onto his tongue, chasing away words he’d regret saying. Only when the feeling faded did he say, “I’ve had enough of strings myself. There’s something nice about being on your own.”

⸢Signet⸣ laughed, and still didn’t ask his name. He didn’t offer, either. She asked him what he did, and he told her about his work shipping goods and materials around the system, and started ranking the trucker bars he’d been to. “This one’s pretty good,” he told her, finally meeting her eyes (which bored into him, and had to see too much), “but the Brink’s my favorite.”

She took one final sip of her drink, laid a hand on his right shoulder, above the mecha inked into his skin, and said, “It’s good to see old friends.”

Unthinking, he said, “Is that what we are?”

Her hand tightened on his jacket. “It could be, now.”

Grand Magnificent nodded, and looked down at the bar, and for once couldn’t think of anything more to say.

 

4. Roommates

Grand Magnificent looked just as shabby as he had in the bar. ⸢Signet⸣ sighed, but couldn’t honestly find it in herself to be surprised. He was hunched over one of the chests, unpacking his bags with deliberate focus. She scanned the room; it looked like he’d picked the bunk at random, as it wasn’t in any corner, nor in the precise center of a row. Carefully, she shut the door.

At the noise, Grand Magnificent looked up, tense. His face relaxed, but not his body, when he saw her. “⸢Signet⸣,” he said, voice flat.

“This is where the crew usually sleeps,” she said, placing her luggage next to the bed in the corner across from the door. “Were you expecting to have it to yourself?”

“After seeing what Gig and Even were up to? Kind of?” Grand Magnificent shook his head. “It’s okay. So. Roommates?”

“Roommates,” ⸢Signet⸣ agreed. She sat on the bed and raised an eyebrow. “You seemed happy as a trucker, after everything.”

“Yeah, well.” Grand Magnificent was fiddling with something; a little locket, its chain dangling between his fingers. “Cascara is persuasive.”

“You have such potential.”

“She thinks so too.” He laughed, short and harsh. “Maybe this time I won’t fuck it all up.”

“I don’t think you will, Grand Magnificent.” ⸢Signet⸣ didn’t move towards him. He’d spook too easily, right now. She ached to, though; the one thing had held steady despite all their situations was that Grand Magnificent needed a friend. Right now, unfortunately, he didn’t look like he’d accept any such offer from her. “You have a good heart.”

“Yeah, well.” He ducked his head and carefully placed his locket in the chest. “Doesn’t stop me from making things that get into trouble.”

“No,” ⸢Signet⸣ agreed. “But it means you can also work your way out of them again.”

“I’m not designing things, now. I’m just here to talk. To hear what’s going on and maybe help people. Make up for everything.”

⸢Signet⸣ leaned forward and studied him in silence, until Grand Magnificent finally turned to face her. Then, she said, “I think this is a good first step for you. It will be good to work with you again.”

Grand Magnificent shrugged and turned back to his bags. “Yeah, well. Let’s see how it goes, before making any declarations like that.”

“I don’t think I’m going to change my mind,” ⸢Signet⸣ said, but she let the subject drop, and began packing quietly alongside him.

 

5. Excerpts

Addressed to: They marked scars of light in pitch; born in fiercest purpose, and beheld as the signet sealed upon our pact,
Sent from: Peace Returned to the Valley, The Rivers Flowed Clear and Blue, The Mountains Resplendent, Grand. Magnificent Light Shone on the Diligent and the Penitent Alike

Look, ⸢Signet⸣—

I like to think you’d laugh, if you could see me now. You’ve seen me in so many places—talked late into the night, sometimes, when neither of us could sleep—but this isn’t something either of us would’ve expected for me, is it?

Going back to being an artist, maybe. Just going back to being a cog slowly smoothing out the machine, like I did before the Notion. Staying with the Notion. Joking about joining the government, because I couldn’t do worse than some of the people you had to work with. Starting a company, maybe, doing—something. Helping Morning’s Observation? I think his ideas came up a lot, when that thought did.

But instead, I’m an Excerpt. An Excerpt. I never would have chosen this, especially after Independence. I didn’t choose this. They just started calling me this, and so I guess I need to live up to it now.

You did that all the time. I don’t think I thought about that, not until after Crystal Palace.

You thought I could do better for the world than I was doing. No matter where I was, you always thought that. Whether you told it to me kindly, or threw the words at my face, or turned away entirely in disgust because actions spoke louder than words—you still always believed I could do good things if I just sat down and tried.

I guess I get that now.

I built something, and it is grand, magnificent, and unknowable. That was the point. And in making that point, Arbit became more than I’d ever intended.

You’re out there with the Cadent, trying to make everyone better than they think they could be. That’s what you do. I bet you’re doing great work with her, and I’m glad.

I know I’ve done a lot I need to atone for, but maybe we can catch up over drinks someday, in the Splice.

Be well.

Peace Returned to the Valley, The Rivers Flowed Clear and Blue, The Mountains Resplendent, Grand. Magnificent Light Shone on the Diligent and the Penitent Alike

 

Addressed to: Peace Returned to the Valley, The Rivers Flowed Clear and Blue, The Mountains Resplendent, Grand. Magnificent Light Shone on the Diligent and the Penitent Alike
Sent from: They marked scars of light in pitch; born in fiercest purpose, and beheld as the signet sealed upon our pact,

Grand Magnificent,

You aren’t someone I expected to hear from, after everything that’s happened.

But you’re right. Let’s catch up.

I’ll see you in the Splice.

— ⸢Signet⸣

 

6. Reflection

It wasn’t the Steady, but they’d agreed that they didn’t want it to be. It wasn’t a trucker bar, either. ⸢Signet⸣ had made the final decision, and so they were meeting at an open-air restaurant placed on a hillside overlooking a river, with mountains cascading across the distant horizon. Flocks of birds circled overhead, dark and ever-changing sparks against the clear blue sky.

“A little on the nose, don’t you think?” ⸢Grand. Magnificent⸣ asked as he strolled up the cobblestone path. His arms were bare, letting his tattoos show freely again, though he wore a long vest that flared out behind him to show interlocked gears and flowering plants and the movement of planets and moons, all intertwined as if they were the same system. His shirt was blue and orange in a large houndstooth pattern, and his pants covered in zigzags of metal that gave ⸢Signet⸣ a headache to try and follow.

She smiled and gestured him to take the other white wicker chair. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

⸢Grand. Magnificent⸣ sprawled into the chair, facing the view more than ⸢Signet⸣ herself. He pulled off a pair of dark glasses, and ⸢Signet⸣ caught the flash of some video or overlay on the inside. “Yeah, well. Funny what saving the lives of the whole system does for your self-esteem.”

“You’re changing things,” ⸢Signet⸣ said. She signalled to a waiter, and one came over with two glasses of ice water, lemons carefully placed on the rim. They placed them on the frosted glass of the table and retreated. ⸢Signet⸣ took hers and squeezed the lemon, letting its juice trickle into the water and tinge it with pulp.

⸢Grand. Magnificent⸣ took his and just let the ice slowly swirl as he watched it. He didn’t say anything, even as the silence stretched on and the almost-sound of other conversations that might be real murmured behind them.

⸢Signet⸣ took a sip of her water, letting the subtle flavor linger on her tongue. She set the glass down and, once the clink broke the silence, said, “Arbit is changing things.”

“I didn’t think it would change this much,” ⸢Grand. Magnificent⸣ admitted.

“Do you regret it?”

“No.” ⸢Grand. Magnificent⸣ finally turned to meet her gaze, and he smiled briefly as their eyes met. The shadows ⸢Signet⸣ was expecting hid in the creases of his face, but his eyes were clear and bright. “I don’t regret a thing.”

Afterword

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