#this. um this is more angst than i expected but also scar scams pearl out of a stack of diamonds so it technically fits the prompt

[funky-fox-fics]

prompt: scar successfully scamming someone in the stupidest way possible

Obviously, the third thing Scar does after--you know--is try to sell Cleo Tilly's ashes.

Well, the first thing he does is change out of his ragged cloak. The Boogeyblooms have wilted entirely, their red hues faded and grayed, and the blue-black fabric is nicked and slashed. He straightens it out, dusts off the ash and dirt and body-bits that mortals typically had, and sighs as Jellie leaps onto the table to roll on it.

The second thing he does is grab a box. He puts a bit of gunpowder in there--you've got to have some weight to the thing, or it won't sell well--and he drops it in his inventory. Jellie meows, rubs against his leg--Scar's back in his Imagineer suit, and it smells crisp and warm and nothing like the musty winds of--you know.

The third thing he does is go to the Shopping District to announce his return from--well, you know.

"Cleo!" Scar chirps as he glimpses her, probably doing some last-minute shopping--when did he pop back in? Come to think of it, how long had the Watchers kept him in their purgatory? He'll need to check. "Cleo, oh my goodness, you have no idea how good it is to see colors again!"

"Oh, hey Scar," they call back--then, they do a double take, jolting and staring him straight in the eyes. "Wait, Scar?"

"In the flesh!" Scar does a mock bow. "Alright, so. What day is it?"

"Scar," Cleo says, eyes narrowing. "Scar, you won--" you know, "--you're not supposed to be here yet, you're sup--"

"The date?" Scar tilts his head expectantly.

"I--" Cleo wrinkles their nose. "You have a Comm too, I suppose, why not check it yourself?"

Scar shifts. "Let's say I forgot it in Scarland," he lies. "What's the date?"

She glances at her Comm, glances back up. "The eighteenth," she says. "A Monday. Is this... why don't you have your Comm, Scar?" She crosses her arms.

"I told you! I left it at Scarland!" Only three days? Feels like it's been much longer. Watchers must have time... shrinkage? Wrinkling? Dilation? Watchers must be able to control time or something. "Anyways, want Tilly's ashes?"

Cleo stares at him. "I don't believe you," she states.

"No, no! I have her ashes!" Scar summons the box with a flick of the wrist and then hands it to them. "See?"

"This isn't--" Cleo shakes the box. "That isn't what I meant, Scar. I meant--"

"For the low, low price of a stack of diamonds, you can get your hands on this priceless artifact!" Scar takes it back and brushes the lid. "Tilly's ashes, tried and true!"

"Scar, I don't want Tilly's ashes." Cleo's gaze flicks between the box and his gaze. "Why would you--I barely knew Tilly before Martyn decided to make it a thing, and why did winning--Grian didn't--how did you lose your Comm when you won--"

"I heard you run a museum!" Scar smiles, a winning grin that he learned from the Vex (not Cub, because Cub is bad at smiling). "And wouldn't Tilly--the vicious dog herself--wouldn't her cremated remains be the ultimate exhibit or something, I don't know how museums work?" Scar tilts the box so light flashes off the intricate gold designs on the chestnut wood.

"That doesn't--Scar, that's not--firstly, I'm not going to buy Tilly's remains, it's not--" you know, "anymore, and secondly, that's not my--stop dodging my questions, Scar."

"Well, that's a shame," Scar says. "They're authentic! I swear! I wouldn't sell you Tilly's fake remains, now would I?"

"You absolutely would," Cleo replies without missing a beat. "Where's your Comm?"

"You have no faith in me," Scar says, and then, "Look, I'll give you a deal--the entire box for 32 diamonds! What a steal!"

Cleo searches him, looks him up and down--she's a little scary, to be honest, her hair still coral snakes and her eyes still golden and sharp. (She's not human anymore, though, which is the scariest thing Scar has ever seen. Cleo's always been a zombie to him, never human, and--)

There's a whizz of rockets overhead, and Scar glances upward just in time to see Tango land with a stumble and a curse.

"Tango!" Scar calls, sidestepping Cleo and approaching the blazeborn. "Tango, good buddy, old pal, want to buy Tilly's ashes?"

Tango whips toward him. His expression resembles a deer in headlights. "Oh, hi Scar," he says, backing away slowly, gaze flicking between Cleo and Scar and the sky. "Hi there. Um. Hi. Yeah, hi."

"That's no way to greet a friend!" Scar takes Tango's hand--cold as ice, spiderwebbed with frost at the tips--and shakes it with a warm grin. "Come on, now, don't you want Tilly's ashes?"

"Not particularly?" Tango presses his back against a wall, and then glances over to Cleo. "Uh, I bet--I bet Cleo would love to buy some! Yep! She definitely would!"

They shake their head. "He's already tried to scam me once--"

"Well, I mean, I'm not gonna buy from someone who literally killed me--oh, hey, we can talk about that!" Tango brightens, steps to the side a little. "Yeah, you did, ah, you did kill me, you know."

"Such is the life of a Hotguy," Scar says with a melodramatic sigh. "It wasn't anything personal! Probably. Might've been. I kill a lot of people."

"No, I mean during--" you know, "when you, uh, you broke the block beneath me--I thought we were cool! I thought we were cool, dude." Tango's tail whips. "So, yeah, actually let's talk about that."

"I have no idea what you're talking about, are you sure you don't want Tilly's remains?" He shakes the box, and the gunpowder shifts and settles within. "Once in a lifetime deal, I tell you! Only a stack of diamonds for these completely authentic remains!"

"I don't want her--that was two seasons ago, Scar, I don't want Pearl's dog's corpse--ashes--whatever. Remains. I want to--why'd you do it, huh?" Tango puts his hands on his hips. "I thought we were good! I thought, hey, maybe we can make up, we can burn down the wool earth, I'm lighting the thing on fire, next thing I know? Dead! It's not even--I thought we were good!"

"You aren't getting this anywhere else, by the way," Scar says. "I got it straight from Martyn, trust me!"

"You might find I don't trust you, actually." Tango sidesteps him and steps into the street. "After that whole--I thought--do you even care? Cleo told me you won, did you win? Was it fun? I bet it was fun." His tone is bitter and sharp. "I bet it was fun, killing everyone, watching everyone die--hey, how far did Gem get?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Scar says. "Tilly's ashes? Come on, I thought you loved gambling! You can--hey, I bet Zedaph doesn't have this in his Hall of Everything thingy!"

"He's not--" Tango stares at the ashes. "How much would it take for you to start talking about--" you know?

"About what?"

You know.

"Sixty-four diamonds." Scar grins and holds out the box. "Here, you can shake it, it's authentic."

From somewhere above him, more rockets. Ah, Cleo must be leaving, Scar thinks, turning around and giving the box to Tango to wave goodbye.

Pearl alights on the street, her elytra flickering back into code as soon as she's on the ground.

The prime customer! Scar thinks, and he snatches back the box from Tango and marches up to Pearl. "Hello, Pearl! Might I interest you in a deal this fine--" He glances up; the weather's cloudy and gray. "This cloudy day?"

"Wait, hold on, wait," Pearl says, eyes clouding. She flicks a glance to Cleo and Tango, pointedly does not look Scar in the eye--must be a Watcher thing--

(There are four of them, standing around a table, solemn, silent. Grian's hands are clasped. Their eyes are closed, but they are watching him, but they are watching him, but they are watching him still.)

--which Scar does not get at all. He's not very good with these kinds of things, these social intricacies, and Hermitcraft kinda erodes all that, what with all these fantastical cryptids that don't really care for strict Vex customs or elaborate catsfolk rituals. They have their own rites, their own rules, their own culture made up of a hundred others, and that one, Scar knows well.

"Don't trust him," Cleo cautions. They've always been intense, and Scar feels like he's being--

(When Grian reaches to take his hand, Scar pulls away, and their fingertips only brush. Even that brief contact hurts. His hand is fire, bright and hot, burning his hand. He hisses, and none of them open their eyes.)

--bored through.

"I don't, I was in Boatem," Pearl says, and she glances back at him. "I know a scammer when I see one."

"No, I mean--it's not just that, I trust we all know Scar's antics by now, but." Cleo looks at Tango, then Scar, then meets Pearl's gaze. "He doesn't remember--"

(They do not speak, but Scar knows that they tell him to forget. He will not remember anything that transpired. They tell him that he is one of them now, and there is no way to change that. Scar thinks that's pretty rude, actually. He should've at least gotten a warning or something.)

you know.

Pearl's eyes widen, and then she stares at Scar. "You mean--" she begins, and then-- "Hold on, Scar, what--"

"Do you want it?" Scar traces the markings on the lid, chilling gold and smooth wood, and inside the gunpowder shifts and settles. "You haven't even heard what it is yet!"

"Scar, I--" Pearl stammers. "Scar, you're--do you really not--"

"It's Tilly's ashes," Scar chirps.

Pearl stiffens, ears pricking, eyes gaining a dangerous glitter. "Tilly's ashes?" she echoes, seemingly forgetting before--

(And Scar protests, in not-quite-words, and pulls away. For the first time, Pearl seems to stir, but nothing comes of it. Grian tells him--there is no way out that does not end in blissful forgetting. And that is when Scar realizes that there is definitely a way out that does not end in forgetting.)

--in favor of inquiring about the thing Scar actually wants her to buy. Like the ashes.

"Yep!" Scar smiles again--Cleo watches from the side as Tango takes off. No time to say goodbye--Pearl's full attention is a thing you don't get very often, and boy is Scar going to take advantage! "True and trusted!"

"How did you--" Pearl takes the offered box, tilts it, listens intently as the gunpowder shifts within. "Martyn wasn't--you're a madman, Scar, you're--"

(Scar's gaze flicks around the not-room, around the winners encircling the table, at the walls that only appear if he glances at them. Something tickles the back of his mind--only material when you look at them. Only material when you look at them. He looks behind--a wall, solid and stone. He closes his eyes and steps backward into thin air.)

"--a madman. How did you even get this?"

"Oh, extortion, bribery, blackmail, that kind of thing, no need to get into the messy details! What matters is it costs a stack of diamonds, and, well! I'm sure you can fork up at least that for your beloved, passed pooch!"

"Don't do it, Pearl, I bet those aren't his real ashes," Cleo snaps. "I mean, it's not my fault if you get cheated, just saying, but I wouldn't do it if I were you."

"Oh, it'll be fine," Pearl says. "I've got lots of diamonds, what's the worst--"

(Behind him, he can hear them--Grian's steady wingbeats, Scott's repeated cries, the pawsteps of Pearl's dogs, Martyn's footsteps. He keeps his eyes screwed shut. There has to be an end. The way Grian had said it--there has to be. He will not take no for an answer.)

"--that can happen? Gem berates me? Besides--" and here her expression softens-- "I trust Scar. Probably a pretty bad thing to do, but... he did win--" you know. "I wouldn't put it past him to nab Tilly's ashes for diamonds. Even if it is a little--lot overpriced. I want Tilly back, Cleo."

"I know," Cleo says. "Fine, go ahead. I don't think I can stop you."

"Good!" Scar says, brightening. "So, let's get this straight--"

(He does not know how long he runs, nor how long he spent in that room, nor how long he spent dead, but suddenly there is grass beneath his feet and sunlight on his face and Jellie meowing in sharp surprise, and when he turns around and cracks open his eyes, there is only a ripple in the air to show he came from anywhere at all.)

"--I get a stack of diamonds, you get Tilly's ashes. No lies, no trickery, no loopholes. Got it?"

Pearl takes only a moment to think, and then she nods, sharp and final. "Deal."

"You're getting scammed," Cleo points out.

"Don't listen to her!" Scar says. "Now, the diamonds?"

"Actually, I think I'd like the ashes first." Pearl tilts her head, and a smile quirks her lips.

For a second, Scar weighs the options--getting the diamonds first and securing the deal, or risking losing his profit--and then decides to trust Pearl. She seems pretty trustworthy today, and if he loses this deal, she'll tell everyone--she's pretty good at that.

He hands her the box, and, wordlessly, she gives him the diamonds.

"So, just one itsy-bitsy note before you open that box and start doing whatever you want with Tilly's cremated remains." Scar readies an ender pearl in close reach, and Pearl glances up from the clasp that she's undoing.

"Hm?"

"I just wanted to say--" Wow, this is hard. Maybe this is a sign of respect in Watcher culture, staring your opponent head-on? There must be some, ah, cultural clash with races like the Vex, where staring at someone means you want to kill them. Scar gulps. Cultural clashes. Definitely. He takes out the ender pearl and rubs his fingers over the glossy surface.

"Say what?" Doubt seeps into Pearl's tone, and she furrows her brow and stares at him--thankfully, she doesn't seem to notice the pearl.

"I just wanted to say..." He inhales, exhales, glances behind him (solid land, good) and throws the ender pearl.

"Those aren't Tilly's ashes."

He's there long enough to see Pearl's expression switch from gleeful delight to stone-cold fury, and she bares her teeth in a snarl, and then the pearl breaks and Scar can hear her howl from a few chunks away.

I guess we're gonna find out how she won Double Life, Scar thinks, pocketing the diamonds and watching in awed terror as Pearl spins on her heel and takes out her axe.

She's terrifying, Scar thinks, and runs.