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“Thank you guys so, so much for today,” Scar says, a little bit teary eyed as he gives both Lizzie and Jim one of his tightest Scar-hugs. “I just had the most fun ever.”
“Awww, Scar,” Jimmy smiles, patting the man's back. “We had fun too, dude. Today was awesome, thanks for inviting us.”
“We should definitely go again next time.” Lizzie adds, nodding her head.
“You guys…” his nose sniffles, going in for another group hug.
They chatted a bit more, before saying their goodbyes. Scar stands patiently on his porch, waiting for his bamboozlers to get into the car. He waves at them for one last time as the car pulls away from his driveway, a vague outline of their silhouettes waves back at him from the inside.
The well loved black Dodge Charger honks at him, signalling a goodbye from the driver, Joel. Lizzie had him pick them up so they wouldn't have to waste money on parking or an Uber. It was sweet of him to come and drive for them, although his very fast and furious driving wasn't something Scar finds quite as nice.
He watches as the car drives away, disappearing from his line of sight and sighs. It was a very exhausting day as much as it was exciting, but that was to be expected when you go to Disneyland—the most magical place on earth.
Scar crouches down, picking up all the totebags full of Disneyland merch Jimmy had helped carry to his porch, before clumsily unlocking his front door. He's always feeling so bittersweet whenever he gets home from such a fun trip. He's sad that it's over, but he can't help but feel a little relieved. Scar couldn't wait to wind down and finally relax.
He haphazardly puts the totebags on the table, cooing when Jellie meows sweetly at him, not missing the chance to give the queen a little pat on the head. The cat trails after him into the kitchen, intercepting playfully between his steps as he approaches the fridge, tummy rumbling.
Scar couldn’t help but smile, thinking of how much of a perfect day it had been. He woke up early on his day off, saw the rest of his Bamboozlers, went to Disneyland, and had the most good of times together. They rode on so many rides, watched so many shows, chased after their favourite cast members to get pictures, got so much merchandise, and cried at the parade. The park had been much emptier than it usually was, which meant that there were half the amount of people, and twice the amount of times they get to go on rides.
One of the only things that could make this day even better than it already was is to eat good food for dinner and play some games right after until he reaches ungodly hours of midnight.
He opens the fridge, being careful to not accidentally hit Jellie with the swing of the door, and smiles widely when he sees it:
His delicious dinner from Factor waiting for him.
Tonight, it was roasted garlic chicken with pan gravy, chive-sour cream mashed potatoes, and garlic green beans, which he got for 50% off with free shipping using the code 50SCAR. It was just what he needed after a tiring day.
He puts the container in the microwave, preparing Jellie’s dinner in the meantime. The little queen looks up at him with her big green eyes, pupils blown wide in the nighttime, making her just the more adorable. Scar coos at her, petting her little head as Jellie greedily sniffs his hand, searching for a treat.
The microwave beeps and Scar pulls the warm meal out onto a plate. Jellie’s ear flicks at the sound, knowing the telltale sign of dinner as she excitedly trots to her bowl.
“That’s right Jellie, it’s dinner time!” Scar laughs, bringing both of their food with him.
Scar eats the delicious healthy meal on the sofa, Jellie eating her own little kitty meal beside him. He scrolls through his phone while he chews on the tender meat, currently engrossed in reading his Twitter timeline.
“Well, would you look at that, Jellie!” Scar marvels, going through a particularly interesting thread. “ Disneyland ticketing error, forces angry crowd to reschedule?!” he read the headline of the screenshotted news article out loud in surprise. “No wonder the park was so uncharacteristically empty earlier! Most of these people couldn’t even come in!”
Jellie yowls at him, seemingly done with her meal. She jumps up the couch and rubs her little head on Scar's thigh, begging for attention. Scar scratches her behind the ear, still focused on reading the thread, where disappointed people are flooding the comment section, making it known that they're upset over such a big error—forcing them to compromise in a refund or a reschedule.
“Huh. I guess we're one of the few lucky ones then. No ticketing error or any of that funny business for the three of us!”
Jellie yawns, stretching her paws out before jumping down the sofa and trotting lazily to the bedroom door, meowing loudly to be let in.
“Yes Jellie, you need your beauty sleep soon, I know,” Scar nods, quickly finishing the rest of his meal and dumping the dirty plate and cutleries to the sink. He walks over to the bedroom, opening the door to let Jellie slither her way in, where she immediately goes up to his bed to rest.
Scar sat down on his chair with a sigh, turning his pc on and scrambling for his headphones.
Jellie meows at him.
“You can go to sleep first Jellie, I'm gonna go play a few rounds first and then I'll join you.”
The cat flicks her tail in distaste, but doesn't complain about it as she goes on to stretch again, closing her eyes to sleep.
The computer turns on, showing a cute picture of Jellie inside a basket as its wallpaper. Scar goes out of his way to pet Jellie's cute fluffy head with his cursor before it ultimately lands on League of Legends, opening it.
To be honest, Scar is still unsure how this game worked. Until just a few days ago, he thought the only aim was to kill the enemy's characters as much as possible. But apparently, as he has been recently informed, that doesn't seem to be the case. It turns out, he was actually supposed to attack these towers? And when he attacks enough towers, he will have to eventually attack another bigger, more important tower.
He doesn't really understand. He mostly just goes in the game picking the most muscular man as his character, and clicking on random buttons, and chasing after Gamemaster's character like a lost puppy.
Right, Gamemaster.
The city's top supervillain at the moment along with the rest of the spanners. Wrecking havoc and mischief around town, and confusing the hearts of many people with their unpredictable morals and fluctuating intentions.
Just a week ago, they had uncovered a problematic politician's chat messages and exposed it to the world. That little leak had caused so much commotion over cheating scandals and corruption schemes, the town's people were fed for days clowning over the man. The spanners were almost held high as the people's heroes—if it weren't for the fact that just a few days later they decided it would be fun to screw up all the traffic lights in the city and make the biggest congestion of the century.
Like he said, Fluctuating intentions.
But honestly, Gamemaster wasn't so bad! Sure, he was a little playful, and he likes to pull silly pranks, and sometimes he says disturbing things… but overall, he was a pretty nice fella!
He loves animals and he would often bring Scar new cat snacks and toys for Jellie to try out, and he only sometimes complains whenever Scar rambles to him about Disneyland or Star Wars.
Oh, and of course, he gets Scar to play online games with him!
Scar wasn’t sure when or how exactly it happened, but along the lines of his growing friendship with Gamemaster, he would notice one day that there were things appearing on his desktop that he didn’t remember downloading. Most of them were various multiplayer games, but there was also a new friend on Discord he definitely didn’t add himself.
Gamemaster of course, had somehow managed to get ahold of his computer and did whatever he liked with it, pestering Scar to start playing games with him.
Scar didn’t mind. In fact, he was very happy to play these games with him! But oftentimes, he would get confused on how a game works— League was one of them. It worries him quite a lot that he wasn’t having a great start at this game, especially since he found out that Gamemaster was really invested in it, boasting a formidable ranking and overall play time.
He didn’t want to bring Gamemaster down and become a burden to him, so he plans on training at the game until he becomes good enough.
Scar spams his Q button, launching his first ability to the enemy's tower, trying to break it. Unfortunately, he fails to see an enemy’s hero creeping up behind him, hiding in a brush. The character leaps up at him, making Scar gasp in a panic seeing his guy’s HP quickly drain, trapped in an ultimate.
“Oh geez! Oh geez! No, no, no!” he chants, trying to move his character away to no avail. Luckily for him, Gamemaster came to save him, pushing the enemy away with his own abilities. The enemy tries to make a run for it, running back to their base, but the notorious supervillain was having none of it—making quick work of them with Scar’s assistance.
Soon enough, victory was theirs.
Scar sighs in relief. It was a very successful game, considering he only died, like ten times!
<xXGameMasterXx> Scar
Scar’s eyes went to the message notification popping up at the bottom of the screen, pressing on it to open the full chatbox built in-game.
<GoodTimesWithScar> yeS?
<xXGameMasterXx> u free tonight?
Scar looks over his shoulder, smiling fondly when he sees Jellie already curled up in a deep sleep.
<GoodTimesWithScar> yes i am!
<xXGameMasterXx> gym time?
<GoodTimesWithScar> ok! :)
Scar goes over his closet, where he picks up his gym bag. Everything he needed was already pre-prepared, considering how often this has happened.
He was sort of Gamemaster's personal trainer. He said ‘sort of’ because it's not official or anything. He doesn't have his name in a contract, and he doesn’t get paid in the conventional way. One thing just suddenly led to another and now suddenly, here he was—giving the city’s most terrifying supervillain lessons and mental encouragement on his cardio every few days a week in the middle of the night.
Like most things in his life, he’s not quite sure how he ended up in this scenario, but he’s not complaining. Afterall, Gamemaster was a very nice guy once you got to know him!
His soft blond hair, cute round eyes, and witty humor also definitely helps.
Scar closes the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake Jellie up. He goes to make himself a protein shake, stopping for a second in contemplation, before getting another cup to make one for Gamemaster also. This protein shake in particular is very sweet, making Scar to believe that the villain would appreciate one. That man’s sweet teeth rival those of greedy elementary school children.
He grabs his keys and his shoes, locking the door behind him and rechecking the handle twice before going off with his car. The gym building wasn’t far away, which was great since Scar worked there. It’s also technically not open for twenty four hours, but The Gamemaster has never been one for rules.
Scar unlocks the door to the gym with his employee pass, turning on the switch, which gradually envelops the dark room in a stark fluorescent light.
As expected, Gamemaster was already there waiting for him.
He’s currently sprawled on the bench press, laying down lazily on his back, wearing a simple black tracksuit and a disposable mask covering half of his face. In his hands is a Nintendo DS, playing some retro 8-bit video game music Scar thinks he might’ve heard before.
“Oh,” Gamemaster closes his DS after noticing Scar’s presence, going up to sit.
“Hi, Scar.”
Scar smiles widely at him, going closer to put his gym bag on the floor. Normally, he would put it in his locker, but since nobody was around, he just sort of put it wherever for convenience.
“Well hello there, mister! Did you wait long?”
“Nah, just got here like a minute ago.”
“I see… You know you could just turn the lights on while you wait for me, right?” Scar giggled, rummaging the insides of his bag. “You’re always just standing here in the dark ominously.”
Gamemaster rolls his eyes. “It’s for the dramatics,”
“Oh, you and your dramatics,” he walks closer to Gamemaster, pushing a pink water bottle to his empty hands. “Here you go!”
The villain blinks at him with those stupidly large eyes, slowly looking down at the bottle given to him with a dumbstruck look.
“Scar, what’s this?”
“Golden whey, chocolate, and cinnamon!”
“No, I mean. What is this?”
Scar frowns, not sure what kind of answer Gamemaster expects out of him.
“Protein shake?” He tries.
Gamemaster just looks even more confused by the answer.
Scar racks his brain for another possible response. “Oh! Are you perhaps not a fan of pink?” He asks, pointing to the pink water bottle the villain was holding.
“Huh?”
“If you don’t like it, I guess we can switch,” the trainer offers, pulling out his own bottle, colored in an alternating swirly pattern of orange and light blue.
To be honest, Scar prefers not to switch bottles, especially because orange and blue is his favourite color. But if Gamemaster wouldn’t want to drink simply because the bottle was pink, he wouldn’t mind giving his favourite bottle to the man. He also liked pink, afterall! Even if it’s not as much as he likes orange and blue.
“Oh, what, no,” The Gamemaster stutters, taken aback. “No, pink is fine. I was just wondering why you gave me this in the first place.”
“Huh? Well, so you can drink it while we work out, duh?” Scar snickered, wondering why the silly Gamemaster was asking such obvious questions.
“...That’s it?”
The way Gamemaster is presenting these questions is making Scar very nervous. He tries to think of any other reason why he would give the man a protein shake, but decidedly couldn't really find any.
“Yeah, I guess!”
“Oh,” Gamemaster muttered, “Huh.”
Scar watches intently as the villain unlatches the cap open. He turned away so Scar couldn't see his face—a common arrangement the two of them had settled on to protect Gamemaster's identity. He takes one swig of the drink before wiping his mouth with the sleeves of his tracksuit and putting his mask back in place.
“It's sweet. It's very sweet.”
The trainer brightens.
“You like it? I know how much of a monster you are with sweets.”
“...You remembered I like sweets?” Gamemaster asked quietly, almost as if he was shy, which made Scar tilt his head in curiosity.
“Yeah, man! You eat so many of them, your face becomes just as sweet!” Scar teased, laughing at his own joke.
At that comment Gamemaster clumsily tugs at his mask, adjusting it to be higher up his nose bridge. He turned his face to the side, eyes unfocused. The villain must've been trying to hide his face, but ironically, the position of his head gave Scar the perfect sight of his ears as it turned into the brightest shade of red.
Aww, is he embarrassed that he still liked eating sweets? Who knew supervillains could be this cute!
“Thanks for the drink,” Gamemaster muttered under his breath, making it seem like he was pouting behind the mask.
“Ofcourse, ofcourse! Oh wait, actually—”
Gamemaster's word of thanks reminded him of something. He went back to rummaging inside his bag, pulling out a Disneyland themed plastic bag after a minute of searching between spare clothes. He sticks his tongue out in concentration as he retrieves the only item inside, before handing it over to Gamemaster with a smile.
Gamemaster looked at the thing in his hand blankly.
Silence permeates the room as Scar awaits for his response.
“This is… A keychain?”
The trainer nods his head enthusiastically. “I saw that at Disneyland earlier and it reminded me of you, so I got it!”
Gamemaster stared back at Scar with an unreadable expression.
“This reminded you of me?”
Scar nods. “Mhmm!”
“... Tinkerbell?”
“Yeah! You're both so small and feisty!”
Gamemaster gave him the stone face.
“Yeah, I'm not using this.”
Scar whined, watching as the villain stood up from his seat and walked towards the mirrors, getting started on his warmups.
“Why not? I got it for you!” Scar quickly joined in beside him, falling into practised ease as he went through his routine.
Hops on the spot, then air back and chest expansions, circles, hops on the spot, hips rotation…
“Scar, I’m not gonna be seen associated with anything Tinkerbell.” Gamemaster complained, stretching his arms up, going on his tippy toes.
Scar could only sigh, lamenting the image of Gamemaster with a cute little Tinkerbell keychain as it gets blown away into smoke.
“Okay then,” he sighs again, slumping his head down like a disappointed dog as he moves toward the more concentrated pull workout area. “let's start with some lat pulldowns—” Scar said, tapping on the pulldown machine.
Once Gamemaster was seated, Scar adjusted the pads and weights for him. The villain had been doing well for the last few weeks, getting down on a consistent schedule. So with that consideration, Scar made the decision to use the second weight from the top—increasing it to twenty pounds.
The two of them went into a familiar rhythm, repeating the last few pull days they've done before, with Scar counting Gamemaster down as he pulls down the handle, occasionally correcting his form by holding his back.
After two minutes, Scar could see Gamemaster’s grip visibly getting weaker, making his pulls slower than when he began.
There was a trail of sweat going down Gamemaster's forehead. Seeing that, Scar took the liberty to grab the small towel from his shoulder and wiped the sweat away from the man’s scrunched face.
“Just one more minute buddy, you can do it!”
Gamemaster lets out a choked grunt, his face becoming a vibrant shade of red. Must be from all the pressure put into pulling all those weights!
“Yeah, that's it!” Scar cheers, delighted and proud at the villain's increased motivation after hearing his surprisingly effective words of encouragement.
“I swear — urk —this thing is h–heavier than usual!”
“Oh yeah! I added one extra weight,” Scar confirms with a lopsided grin.
“You—! You didn’t tell me that before?!”
He shrugs, “if you don’t know about it, it’ll motivate you more. You know? Like the Placebo Effect,”
“That’s not what the Placebo Effect is!” Gamemaster complains, groaning as he uses all his energy on pulling the bar down to his chest, his limbs trembling in effort.
“Ehhh… agree to disagree,”
“ Agree to di—?! Scar! This is not something you can agree to disa— oh you know what , sure,” Gamemaster sighs, giving up on trying to argue and instead deciding that it would be much wiser to use all of his remaining strength in getting the set over with.
After another minute of cheering from Scar and various different sounds of pain from Gamemaster, they were finally done with the set, with the villain now slumped on the ground after somehow slipping down the seat like a slide, his chest rapidly heaving up and down in an uncontrolled fashion.
Scar crouches next to him, grabbing on to his towel again to dab it all over the poor man’s face.
“Hey, you did amazing!” He praises, giving him a thumbs up. “I’m so proud!”
Gamemaster goes into a coughing fit.
Scar winces, awkwardly patting the villain’s shoulder.
“On the bright side, you finished one exercise! Now you only gotta do…”
The trainer pulls out a clipboard from his pocket and sticks his tongue out, trailing his pointer finger down the page before smiling back to Gamemaster, still sprawled on the ground.
“— now you only gotta do four more!”
Gamemaster chokes at the news, going into yet another coughing fit.
“Alright now, up you go! The night is still young!”
With much more persuasion and manhandling from Scar, they ended up managing to get Gamemaster's limp body to move into the cable machine. Scar had to manually bring the lever to Gamemaster's frail palms and cradled it with his own so the man could actually get a grip on it, seeing as he apparently couldn't move his body on his own anymore.
That fact was proven correct when Scar takes a step back, counting The Gamemaster in, only for the villain to end up not even budging as soon as the counter goes down to one. The trainer tilts his head to the side in confusion, seeing Gamemaster propped on the chair like he was some sort of life sized doll. The resemblance is uncanny and it freaks Scar out a bit.
“Um. Okay, maybe we need to loosen some of those muscles a bit,” Scar brainstorms outloud, going closer to Gamemaster’s stiff form. “Ooh, how about à másságe ?” he declares suddenly with a terrible imitation of an amalgamated european accent, extending both of his hands to either sides of the villain's shoulder. The trainer barely got a squeeze in when the villain suddenly jolted back from the contact. The shock of the action made him start pulling on the weight of the cable machine rigorously.
Scar jerks his hand away at the sudden movement in confusion. Blinking owlishly at the sight of Gamemaster now doing a perfect set of a seated cable row, losing all trails of his previous exhaustion. It was like he had somehow pushed an ‘on’ button, making the previously limp doll come back to life with a single touch.
He didn't have time to be questioning things though, seeing as he has a client he needs to cheer for. Scar whoops at him, clapping his hands, and clumsily pulling a stopwatch from his pocket to count his set.
The rest of their pull day routine went in similar fashion, with Scar having to drag Gamemaster’s body across the gym floor like a corpse as they move to their next exercise, and him cheering the supervillain on, guiding his form while the poor man fights for his life in various different torture machines.
It ended about an hour later, with Gamemaster yet again sprawled on the ground, looking as pale as a vampire.
“Well done, dude! One level heavier and you absolutely nailed it!” Scar beams proudly, smiling at the Gamemaster carcass stretched out on the gym floor.
“I.. did it…” The corpse wheezes, out of breath.
“Yes you did! Oh, I’m so proud of you, master!”
“ WHAT?!” Gamemaster squawks, immediately sitting up after Scar’s sentence. His previously sheet white complexion now an alarming red.
“Ahhhh! What?!” Scar squeals in surprise, shocked at The Gamemaster’s sudden distress.
“Do— don’t call me that ever again!” The supervillain snarls, his eyebrows pinched in irritation, pointing at Scar accusingly.
“Why not?” Scar questions. “Your name is so hard, Gamester, Gayster —”
“ HUH?!”
“—Why couldn’t it have been something easier to say like… hm.. Ringmaster… yeah, Ringmaster is so much easier,” Scar concluded, tapping his pointer finger on his chin in an act of serious thinking.
Gamemaster goes silent at Scar’s suggestion, before answering quietly.
“...Ringmaster cause… cause it has… a ‘lil bit more of a ‘ring’ to it?”
Scar blinks.
“Huh, a what?”
“...Like, a ring? Like when…”
He watches as the supervillain slowly and awkwardly flails his hands around, trying to vaguely explain the concept with telepathic hand gestures.
It unexpectedly works as the joke finally registers into Scar’s brain, lighting a light bulb above his head.
“ Ohhhhh! Like, a ‘ring’ as in ‘has a good ring to it’ because like, Ring master!” Scar laughs loudly, a single tear escaping his eye. “Ohhh, okay, that’s good,” he wipes the tears away.
The trainer is still giggling at the joke, repeating it under his breath before laughing at it again when The Gamemaster rolls his eyes, seemingly already tired of the quip he himself had made.
“Whatever. I’m gonna go now since we’re already done,” he declares plainly, going up to grab his purple and black gym bag.
Scar, who was still struggling to stop giggling, whines sadly at the Supervillain’s upcoming departure. “Awww, can’t you stay a bit and chat with me a little more?”
“No can do, Scar,” Gamemaster shakes his head, slinging the strap to his shoulder as he walks toward the doors. “Crime waits for no one, and the town hall is practically begging for me to smother it in egg whites. You know how it is,” he shrugs.
“ohh, that does seem fun,” the trainer agrees weakly, imagining the huge building covered in yolky goodness like a giant cheese fountain, hundreds of distressed chickens running around and crowding the streets.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you a few cartons so you won’t suffer from the upcoming egg droughts the next few days.” Gamemaster adds, consoling him and taking the last few remaining sips of his drink, putting the empty bottle beside the trainer.
Scar smiles gratefully at the very very considerate gesture. “My, what a gentleman. Thank you dearly.”
“Of course,” he nods.
Scar watches as The Gamemaster pushes the front doors open, about to disappear into the night. Before he could, however, the supervillain stops, seemingly hesitant before quietly speaking.
“Hey, did you enjoy your visit to Disneyland today?”
Scar raises his eyebrow curiously, wondering why Gamemaster would suddenly ask such a random question out of nowhere.
“I really did. The park was emptier than usual, so I didn’t have to queue that much on anything.”
The midnight breeze messes Gamemaster's hair. The moon’s faint white glow on it made it look as if each golden strand is covered in a subtle shimmer.
“That’s good,” he mutters. “I knew it was a good idea to hack their ticketing website.”
The words didn’t process in Scar’s brain fast enough. As soon as it registers to him that Gamemaster confirmed he was the one who rigged the ticketing issue on Disneyland, solely for the reason so that Scar would have a better time , the man had already walked away into the city.
In-between Scar’s stunned gaping and frantically spouted gibberish. He suddenly notices a flash of light flares occasionally coming from the side of Gamemaster’s bag, one of the only visible clues of his whereabouts as he slowly blends into the darkness.
He tilts his head, trying to figure out what the small flashes of lights are. Before opening his mouth into an ‘o’ shape when he realized what it is that was reflecting the moonlight.
The Tinkerbell keychain.
“Huh.” Scar remarks dumbly.
“Since when did he put that on?”