The gift
Zooble had been trying so hard.
They avoided the adventures like the plague, only existed around the other prisoners when necessary, and never indulged in them or who they are just in the hopes of avoiding unnecessary attachments. They’d witnessed too many abstractions, helped orchestrate too many mock funerals for their friends who lay beneath their own feet in the cellar. They were not going to let themself suffer just to appease others.
So why is it that they cared so much about this task?
It’s not like it was given to them or expected of them. It was simply a passing thought that took root before they could stamp it out. All because of that stupid mask.
If Zooble had a mouth they’d surely be scowling as they chucked another leg and chest piece to the side and dug deeper into their Zooble Box. The damn thing was meant to be infinite, right? Filled to the brim with any piece they could possibly desire, right? Then it should’ve been a simple feat to sift through handfuls of limbs and find the singular thing that didn’t match. Even if their hypothetical mask was plastic it still didn’t match aesthetically to anything Zooble had seen in their collection.
Honestly… its not that Zooble hadn’t seen one before. It was simple and plain, almost like a costume kitsune mask you’d find in a cheap halloween section. They’d only briefly considered it before dumping it back into the box and resuming their search, mind too full of the discomforting feeling of being Zooble to truly consider what other applications the mask could’ve had. It was inevitable that it would come back, a full rotation eventually and maybe by then they’d be feeling something towards it.
Not once had their thoughts been taken to the singular person forced to wear a mask here. The one person who’s porcelain smile was constantly in pieces on the floor for one reason or another. The hindsight made them feel ill of just how disconnected they’d become, treating these people like nothing more than the npcs they interacted with on adventures. That’s why they did this, digging through their landfill hidden as a treasure chest in the vague hope that they could find something to slightly atone for their own behavior.
It certainly wasn’t because they’d grown fond of her. To be fond is to be attached, and Zooble was not attached. That would mean they sought her attention because it made them feel something. That they wouldn’t mind the silence of the tent interrupted by the scratch of pencil on paper and soft humming of some nondescript anime she’d seen before being imprisoned. Or think about her when she’s not here, or commend her for the few moments she took a stand against Jax, or - or -
Or search painstakingly for a mask for her that wouldn’t break, just to keep that smile on her face.
Oh.
They are so fucked.