Crowned

Arc 1, Chapter 14: Reunion and Disaster.

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OJ dragged himself into the medical room, and rummaged through the cupboards searching for something. He wanted to test a theory. He grabbed the bandages and wrapped them around the opening on his back, which blocked the flow of water and caused the wings to splash into the ground. He moved a foot back, watching the water ripple around his now soaked ankles momentarily, before he broke into a manic but pleased fit of laughter. "Yes! Take that you fucked tarot card from hell..." he personally couldn't comprehend how it worked in the slightest, but he had no right to judge considering it had been the outcome he wanted.

So he stepped out into the kitchen quietly, and moved towards the dinging room. Eventually he was faced with a bustling hall of objects collecting themselves at the large table to eat together. He just had to pretend everything had been normal, which was easier said than done. But manageable. Everything was manageable if he'd done things right.
...
In theory, anyway.

Knife had been chatting with Pickle about what happened as he stepped towards the dining room. The chat was going about as good as one would expect. Pickle was pretty upset at Taco still, and was worried about Microphone. Knife was trying to comfort him, and simultaneously keep him informed. A difficult balance to be so blunt and comforting, but it came naturally to him, so he'd manage.
They continued to chat until Knife stumbled straight into another.

"A-AGH..." He groaned and rubbed the piece of metal that had collided with the taller object. He looked up to retaliate rudely but saw the face of Silver Spoon. It took a few moments for recognition to cross his feature, but once it had he looked much less upset.
"Silver...?" His face softened from frustrated to a nearly disbelieved lift.

"Hm—? Who— Oh...!" Silver chuckled elegantly and looked down at Knife. A hand rested across his chest to assume a posture of pleasantry. "My, my dear! It's been quite a while hasn't it Pocket Kni—?"

"Knife, It's just Knife now." He corrected. "Just Knife. I... Went through with things." Knife wasn't sure how well Silver would take it, though he had faith the other wouldn't care much.

Silver's eyes widened and he quickly corrected himself. "Oh my! I'm so sorry... Well then Knife, how have things been?" He seemed almost proud, though his pride and ego manifested toward himself so it mattered little in the end.

The muscles in his face loosened and he seemed much more relaxed, relieved to start more fluid conversation. He laughed lightheartedly before he answered, "They've been pretty good... Since the competition I cut contact with my dad and... made some. Uh... Some friends." He looked at Pickle and gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

Pickle chuckled to himself and rubbed his forearm. He then and glanced over at the tall object. "You two know each other? I don't think I've met you."

"Oh— uh. Pickle this is my cousin S— er... His "royal majesty", Silver Spoon." Knife waved his hands in the air teasingly.

"Agh— What...?! What a crude display of childish matters! I am horrified you still recall such childish role-play and banter." He flicked his wrist, almost embarrassed.

"How could I forgotten about how much of an asshole you were?" Knife shoved him a little jokingly.

Silver rolled his eyes. "You're one to talk!" He complained in a dramatic tone, looking down on the shorter metal object.
"Still such a child. Always a child!"