Chapter Text
Boothill never thought he’d be back in Penacony. After all, a Galaxy Ranger is always on the move, much like the Knights of Beauty. And yet, a certain Knight of Beauty was offered a pretty good hotel deal. It’s from the IPC to thank him for saving their employees. And apparently, Aventurine upgraded it to include Boothill. However, both of them must check in at the same time.
It’s no couple deal, no. And it’s not like Boothill wanted it to be.
But their rooms are both paid for and are VIP suites: three days and two nights and free breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And of course, free rein to hop on the Radiant Feldspar thanks to the Astral Express. The best part? Boothill can pretty much relax since the IPC grunts deployed there won’t be chasing him down, and there are no wanted posters of him thanks to Robin including him as one of the heroes of Penacony. The only problem he’d face if someone recognized his face that ain’t the IPC grunts.
He has no bounty to deal with at the moment. And for his mission of finding Oswald, he is waiting on Aventurine. He could always act independently, which he has been doing for the past few years, but having someone scout planets for that bastard is indeed faster. He’s just hoping Aventurine would not pull a fast one on him. All in all, that means he has free time.
Besides, the last time he was here, he didn’t thoroughly enjoy Penacony for what it is due to the whole issue with The Family, the bomb scare the Fool made them live through, and the Four-Foot Hall cult. And right now, he’d like to experience Penacony for what it is BEFORE the IPC ruins it like every planet they concur.
So of course, he accepted the deal. Not because Argenti also has free time on his hands and told Boothill through text that he is excited to spend time with him again possibly. Of course not. But, spending time with that beautiful knight is part of the list he wants to do during his sudden vacation.
He has grown fond of the knight. After the entire fiasco with that group of Pepeshi and saving Miss Qingque, they kept in touch and even bumped into one another a couple of times. On the phone, they often talk about their travels and describe the scenery wherever they are. Boothill will never admit it, but he is hoping one of these days, he’ll describe where he is and they are at the same location. And he’ll run over to where he is. Like seeing an old friend. Because of how dangerous their missions are and how much they travel, who knows if they’ll ever meet again. One of them might be pushin’ up daisies by the time their paths will cross again.
But Argenti is no ordinary friend he wants to meet again. Not like Dan Heng or Stelle or Black Swan. Seeing them would make him smile. They are people he considers close friends; a brother, and sisters he’d catch a bullet for while teasing the daylight out of them. But Argenti? He’s different. Somehow, all the bravado he has vanishes as soon as Argenti opens his [forking] mouth. It’s like he’s using every word in the dictionary for compliments.
And that [forking] smile of his. It has been plaguing Boothill’s mind.
Boothill’s not stupid. He is well aware that his fondness for the knight transcends friendship. He likes likes him. At first, he deemed Argenti as weird, too talkative, and too nice for his own good. While those initial thoughts still ring true, Boothill realized that they were similar. They are both clad in silver, both packing heat and oozing with righteousness. Argenti is a good man, a beautiful one at that, and likes to wear his emotions on his cheek. Yet, he remains a mystery to Boothill, and somehow he likes that.
That just means he has more to uncover about Argenti. And maybe, just maybe, one day, he’ll let Argenti know everything about him.
But today, he is in The Reverie, face-to-face with Stelle once again.
“... Did ya’ [fudging] overthrow Dennis?”
“Nah. Just bored, so I’m playing lobby manager again,” Stelle grins as she offers a bottle of SoulGlad to Boothill, who shakes his head. “Suit yourself. Why are you here?”
Boothill leans against the counter, crossing his arms and huffing out a breath. “Got this hotel deal. Would be a shame to not take it, y’know?”
“Should I check you in, then? And don’t worry, I know what I’m doing this time around.” Stelle wipes her mouth with her sleeve, burping loudly due to the soda.
Boothill raises a brow at her and contemplates on asking her about what the [fudge] does she meant by ‘know what she’s doing this time around’? But he keeps his trap shut about it. It’s always a wild guess what will come out of Stelle’s mouth. He shakes his head at her.
“Nah, not yet. I’m waitin’ on someone.”
“Oooh, I wonder who.” Stelle has that stupid smile on her face again. “Is it a couple hotel deal, then? Are you waiting on a pretty gal? Or a pretty guy? Do I know this person?”
Before Boothill can even answer, the lobby doors open. He doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is, the heavy footsteps and armor-clanking sounds are dead giveaways. And the smell of roses that suddenly materializes in the air makes Boothill breathe it in.
“My beautiful friends! It is nice to meet both of you again. Idrila has blessed me the opportunity to cross paths once more with you, my silver cowboy.”
Boothill ignores the last bit of his monologue, as well as the side eye Stelle is giving him. Instead, he fixes his hat, heaves out a breath, and turns to the knight. If his eyes were still all-natural, the smile on Argenti’s lips would have blinded him. Both corners reach his ears, a hand on his chest, and- Where did that spotlight come from? And the roses? The floors are made of concrete!
“Took ya’ long enuff. I was gettin’ bored!” Boothill scolds as he tips his hat to acknowledge the other male and shield his eyes. Might not be natural but still can be sensitive.
He notices that Argenti is carrying a small suitcase with him, probably his clothes. The idea of seeing the knight in clothing other than his signature armor never crossed his mind until that moment. He’s not a cyborg like Boothill hence the additional clothes. And maybe things he needs for his skincare routine? Maybe not. Now, he’s curious. Casual Argenti? That is a sight he’s excited to see. Then again, why does he need to change clothes when they’ll be in the Dreamscape?
He doesn’t voice this out, opting to see Argenti in different clothes.
“My apologies. I admit it took me a while to decide what clothes to bring.” Boothill can feel Argenti’s eyes scanning him from hat to toe. “If you do not mind me asking, but did you not bring anything?”
“Heh, didya forget, Genti? I’m a cyborg, baby. I don’t need clothes, just need ta’ clean myself.” He grins and takes out his gun with one hand, and his phone with the other. “Got my gun, phone, and some cash. I’m all set.”
Argenti seems to think it over then nods, moving closer so he can stand next to Boothill and finally turn his attention to Stelle. Stelle has been drumming her fingers on the counter, eyes shifting from Boothill to Argenti. Boothill turns back to her, still ignoring the questioning glint in her stare.
“ Now you can check us in, kid,” Boothill taps the computer in front of Stelle, who is just silently staring at him. “Get to it, lass.”
“Alright, alright, jeez,” Stelle begins typing on the computer, asking for the details and thankfully Argenti swiftly answers her. It’s becoming clear what she meant by knowing what she’s doing now. Last time, she just stood there looking all confused and told them to just go to a random room. “It says here you guys have separate rooms but are just next to each other.”
“Oh?” Argenti says as if he’s not expecting it. Boothill glances at him for a brief second.
“Yup. Here,” Stelle grins as she hands over their room keys. “Have fun!”
Boothill didn’t like how she grinned at them. At him, specifically. Does she know? Is it obvious? But it’s Stelle, the self-proclaimed Galactic Baseballer, the infamous weirdo walking Stellaron. Who knows what’s going on in her mind. So again, he ignores it, barely catching Argenti’s goodbye speech to their friend before Argenti grabs his hand, leading them to the elevator.
“Someone seems eager,” Boothill laughs when Argenti closes his eyes for a bit, a small tint of pink on his cheeks. Cute.
“I’m merely excited to go to a store in the Dreamscape. I heard there is a limited item from the Mirror Holders, and while I usually steer clear from them, I am intrigued by their work.” He explains as they wait for the elevator to come down.
“They’re the folks tryin’ to find pieces of that Aeon of yours, yeah?” Boothill asks.
He only retains that information because of Argenti. He tuned in as soon as Dan Heng told him about the Mirror Holders and how they also followed the Aeon of Beauty. Anything Idrila-related is Argenti-related to him.
“Correct, however,” Argenti takes a deep breath as soon as they hear a ding. They step to the side to let the people out of the elevator, Boothill can’t help himself but glare a bit at the Pepeshis that pass them. “Knights of Beauty and Mirror Holders differ in their beliefs regarding the exquisite Idrila. We, the knights, believe that THEY still exist, merely exploring the cosmos. On the other hand—”
“Mirror Holders believe that THEY have died.” Boothill continues for him, noticing how he seems to hide his face when they step into the elevator. Argenti nods.
“I do not think ill of them, no, quite the opposite. Yet, I just can not—”
“You don’t hafta explain, Genti.” Boothill fights the urge to place a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t want to come across as touchy. Instead, he nods in understanding at the knight when Argenti turns to him. “I get it.”
Silence washes over them, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable. However, of course, the knight seems to not like the silence as he shifts the topic into something they both can talk about: their other plans while they’re in the Dreamscape.
“I’ll be honest with ya, I don’t even have the slightest forking idea on what I’ll be doing,” Boothill replies, looking around to check where their rooms are supposed to be. “I ain’t into anything that folks seem to be obsessed with nowadays.”
“That can not be true; I have known you for quite a while now. You always have a plan up your sleeves. You are a Galaxy Ranger, after all.”
Boothill can’t help but grin at that. Both of them respect each other’s… occupations highly.
“Alright, ya got me. I’ve been eyein’ that shop with the big eye in front of it.”
Argenti finally spots their room numbers but they opted to stay in the halls for a while longer. They should’ve stopped by the lounge first, but oh well. They lean on the railings, watching other people walk around. Boothill realizes that they as a duo might stick out like a sore thumb. Both Knights of Beauty and Galaxy Rangers prefer to work solo, everyone and their Mama knows that. But Boothill doesn’t give a [fudge] about what others think.
They ARE weird, as a duo or not. And that makes Argenti fun to be with. He’s far from boring.
“Ah, I believe that is the Dreamscape Sales Store. I heard someone is operating it, or something, called Dr. Edward.” The knight turns his head to look at Boothill, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “May I know why that store caught your interest?”
Boothill drums his metal fingers against the steel railing. “That Memokeeper friend of mine mentions somethin’ about dream and memory bubbles. It’s kinda like watching a movie but instead of a poorly written script, it’s yer memories. Got me thinking if somehow I can buy one, but ah, instead of the ye old past, it’s something more recent.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Aw shucks, Argenti has that dang smile of his. “I’d ask which memories you would like compressed into a bubble that you can relive. However, it seems personal, and I do not want to intrude.”
“Ha!” Boothill barks out a laugh, turning so his back is leaning on the railing and has his arms resting on top of it. “That’s a [forking] first for ya, Genti! [Fudge] , I know ya. Yer a curious soul, and ya tell me you don’t wanna ask?”
A pout. He has never seen that before on Argenti.
“I still highly respect my friends, despite my curiosity, dear Boothill. I’d rather let it gnaw inside me and leave me restless if the cost of satisfying it is disrespecting my friends’ boundaries.”
Well, now that made Boothill feel like an [ash]. Argenti is not the type to disrespect his friends, especially with his virtues. But to Boothill, he always thinks of Argenti as the type of kid to annoy the living daylights of his parents with the constant asking. Maybe he was like that?
He realized he never knew anything about his past. To be fair, Boothill never spoke of his. His past life is never a comfortable topic to talk about.
“I just-” Boothill plays with his bangs, a bit nervous to be vulnerable. “We met some rather interesting people recently, y’know? The whole scenario with The Family was [fudged] up, but.. Gah, how do I explain it?”
“You are grateful to have met your friends in Penacony, despite the situation we were, which wasn’t ideal,” Argenti says with such softness in his voice. “That is a wonderful mindset to have, my friend.”
It’s because of you. It’s all your influence.
Boothill tries to hide his face by messing more with his bangs. He is not used to being vulnerable, talking about emotions, and confiding in someone. But he also was not used to keeping comrades by his side. He has a lot of acquaintances, but they are different from those he and Argenti have met. Other than the fact that they are all technically [forked] up somehow.
He licks his lips. “It’s been a while since I wanted to have something to remember people by. Though, Galaxy Rangers never forget a comrade they made, especially those who fought by our side.”
“Would I be there?”
The question catches Boothill off guard. Argenti is looking directly at him with a smile.
“In your memories, I mean.”
“You’ve been taking up too much space in my mind lately, so yeah,” Now his voice and words are shocking him, but his mouth doesn’t want to shut up even if his brain is shouting at him to stop. “Yer kinda hard to forget, ‘Genti.”
“I hope so,” Boothill straightens up when he sees Argenti doing the same. “We Knights of Beauty tend to leave lasting impressions on everyone we encounter, albeit most of those impressions are unfavorable. However,”
If Boothill still had his heart, it would be pounding on his chest so hard, wanting escape. Argenti calmly takes one of his hands in his, bowing and kissing the back of his hand.
“May Idrila bless me once more.”
Boothill is confused, and maybe Argenti said something else but he can’t even hear his own thoughts right now. His sensors are going off the chart, whirring loudly and warnings are overflowing due to his internal wirings overheating. He just stands there dumbfounded, staring at Argenti whose smile falters into concern. The knight lets go of his hand.
“Dear Boothill? Are you alright?”
“I, uh, yeah. Just peachy,” He lies, opening and closing his fist. “I think I hafta charge. I dunno if I won’t lose any energy in the dreamscape, but I ain’t gonna find out the hard way.”
Argenti nods, “We should probably head to our rooms then.”
They bid their farewell, with Argenti reminding him to charge first. And to meet him in the Dreamscape.
Boothill closes and locks his door behind him, feeling bad about lying to the knight. But any longer with him, with his touches and alluring scent, the cowboy might malfunction. He breathes out a shaky breath, not liking the feeling of, well, feelings. But deep in his mind, he’s glad. Feelings make him human, and only Lan knows how much he craves to be human again.
Maybe if he has his old body back, Argenti might like him back.
“[Forkin’] knight, got me feeling all type of weird.”
He finally takes in what is in front of him. Nothing is worth mentioning except for the bed. Because it is not exactly a bed. It’s similar to a bathtub or a mini pool, maybe that's why they call it the Dreampool. Boothill can already feel how uncomfortable it is. It’s not his first time dipping into it, and he is annoyed at how tiny it is.
With nothing else to do, he might as well get a head start in the Dreamscape. They have a few days and if he finishes what he wanted to do, he’d have more time with Argenti. Which could be bad or good.
Boothill takes out his phone and places it on the table. His hand hovers over his gun, fingers twitching, but he decides against it. Who knows what will happen and he prepares to have his gun on his side at all times. He carefully steps in, groaning when he finally positions himself into a semi-comfortable position and he is fully immersed.
He closes his eyes. He should just relax his body and clear his mind. But his mind only consists of the beautiful knight. Argenti’s smile, how his eyes sparkle when he is happy, and how gentle he is. He thinks of how soft his hair might be. He thinks about how Argenti even became a Knight of Beauty. To be fair, he is the perfect description of a Knight of Beauty.
Every section of his brain is just Argenti.
He sighs, realizing his body is not relaxing and his mind is as much of a yapper as his mouth is. At this point, he might actually need to drain his energy just so he can get into the Dreamscape.
“This is bull[shirt].”
Upon opening his eyes, he realizes he isn’t in his room anymore. But he’s not in Golden Hour either. Or any other part of the Dreamscape at that. He’s sitting down in the middle of a green grass field that seems to stretch into the horizon. Blue sky with perfectly placed clouds above him. Small wildflowers decorate the field, swallowtails fluttering about. A cold gust of wind breezes by and even with his metal body, Boothill can feel it.
He stands up while holding onto his hat. He hates how he immediately feels at ease. Like it’s home. Like he is back home . But there’s no more home to go back to. And this is no Dreamscape either. Flashy people like The Family would not create such peaceful scenery in their eye-straining world.
“Where the [heaven] am I?” He whispers, his free hand caressing the grip of his gun.
“H-Hello?”
A voice. One that he hasn’t heard before. His fingers act on instinct, clasping tightly as he frees his gun. He takes a deep breath and turns, the spur on his boot clicking. He raises his gun, finger on the trigger. Boothill is expecting to see a tall person, or at least Argenti to calm him down. Or even anyone he already knows. He lowers his hand slowly, eyes following.
A child. A quivering child with red hair is in front of him, an ocarina in his hands.
“Please don’t shoot me.” Boothill can barely hear the plea.
He is about to pull back his gun and asks the child if they’re alright but his eyes widen when the kid grabs the barrel of his gun, lowers their head, and presses the muzzle against the top of it.
“If you’re going to shoot, please have mercy and make it quick.” Boothill has to sharpen his hearing just to hear the kid’s mumbling.
“I ain’t going to shoot ya, kid,” He firmly says, making the kid lose his grip on the gun. He retreats his gun back to its holster. “Unless ya gave me a reason to.”
There’s no response. Now that Boothill is staring at the color of the child’s hair, he realizes it’s the same shade of red as Argenti’s.
“You’re… not here to kill me?” The child slowly lifts their head.
Holy [forkeroni]. The eyes. It’s his eyes. It’s Argenti’s eyes. There’s no mistaking it. It’s the same shade of color; the exact green that contrasts his hair. But there’s no confidence nor curiosity deep in it. There’s only confusion, weariness, and wariness. Boothill stares more, taking note that the hair is dirty and matted like the kid hasn’t been able to wash it. Shorter than the knight’s. No knightly armor in sight nor a lance. Just dirty clothes and the ocarina.
“What’s yer name, kid?” He asks, kneeling so he is at eye level.
The child’s eyes move around, probably scanning Boothill’s entire figure. Boothill stays silent, waiting for a response. He breathes out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding when the kid’s shoulders drop, relaxing.
“My name is Argenti.”
Boothill closes his eyes for a brief second. He already knows it’s him, the hair and eyes are dead giveaways and yet it still surprises him. Looking back at Argenti, it’s clearer now that it is a younger version of the knight. Maybe around 8 or 10 years old. Just around Boothill’s hips.
Argenti’s fingers clutch tightly around the ocarina. “And what’s your name, mister?”
“The name’s Boothill,” He replies with a small smile. “What’cha doin’ out here, Argenti?”
The redhead child smiles back and it’s a clear copy of his adult self. But as soon as the smile appeared, it dropped into a frown.
“I… I don’t know why I’m here. I was–” He looks around, one hand letting go of the ocarina to tug at the end of his loose, tattered, red shirt. “I went down somewhere to hide and I found this ocarina underneath some rocks.”
“To hide?” Boothill’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. Hide from what?
Argenti nods, attention going back to the cyborg cowboy in front of him. He tugs the end of his shirt again. Boothill notices that the kid is barefooted. “Mister Boothill, do you… Do you have any food with you?”
Somehow, that question stirs something deep within Boothill. It pains him. He observes how skinny the kid is, a huge difference between the younger version and the adult. He notices now how sunken Argenti’s eyes and cheeks are and his fingers are shaking.
Given that he is somewhere not in Penacony and that he is talking to a younger version of Argenti, he concludes that he is indeed a dream. Whether it’s his own or influenced by The Family is something he hasn’t determined yet. But it is a dream, meaning he can conjure up anything as long he thinks hard enough.
He thinks hard about what food will he conjure up. A nice meal would be appropriate, but he remembers that Argenti loves bread, specifically baguettes. He remembers how his old Pop would make this delicious cheesy garlic bread in the morning. He reaches his hand behind his back and thinks hard.
He feels something between his fingers.
“Here ya’ go,” Boothill says as reveals the bag of freshly made garlic bread baguette. It’s cut up into tiny pieces.
Slice them thinly so they’re easier to store – a crucial snack for extended voyages.
Argenti hesitantly reaches for the bag, curiously peeking in it. He gasps, the edges of his lips tugging into a smile. He looks back at Boothill. “Are you sure I can have this?”
Boothill nods, shifting so he can sit down. “It’s all yours, and if you want more, just tell me, yeah?”
He struggles to balance himself when Argenti all of a sudden, hugs him. The kid keeps on thanking him, and with each thanks, his arms around his neck tighten. Boothill laughs a bit and taps Argenti’s shoulder to make him let go, urging him to sit down and eat.
Boothill watches as Argenti carefully places down the oracina next to him. As gentle as adult him would put down his lance. The redhead opens the bag, eyes sparkling as he takes out a slice. He bites into it, nodding happily with tears forming on the edges of his eyes.
“It can’t be that good that it makes ya cry, can’t it?” Boothill muses and Argenti swallows, laughing a bit as he dries his tears.
“It’s just,” A pause as he stares at the next slice he takes out. “It tastes like how my Mom used to make it.”
Used to, Boothill notes. He raises a leg and rests his elbow on his knee, cheek pressed against his knuckles. “Yeah?”
“Mhm, and it’s been a while since I had fresh bread. I usually find them all stale,” Argenti holds out the slice towards Boothill. “You should have some, mister!”
You’ve always been this generous and kind, huh?
Boothill shakes his head. Somehow, he doesn’t want to know how it tastes. He based it on his Pop’s cooking, and it’ll make it harder for him to function if he has a meltdown now. He focuses on Argenti instead.
“It’s alright, you can have it all,” He says with a smile. “Do you know how to play the ocarina?”
It’s Argenti’s turn to shake his head, cheeks puffing as he chews. “I just found it, I do not know who the owner is. I was just trying to hide.”
Boothill’s eyes narrow. “And why are you hiding, Argenti?”
The redhead continues to chew then he swallows. “Why am I…”
He stares at the inside of the bag then he folds the top, placing it next to the ocarina. He pulls his legs closer to his chest, arms wrapping around his knees. Argenti stares ahead, red locks flowing as the wind blows past them. For a moment, Boothill feels bad for asking, and he is about to backtrack and change the topic. But Argenti opens his mouth, hands gripping his arms.
“We’ve been fighting a war for as long as I can remember,” He says as a swallowtail flutters and lands on his hair. “I can’t remember the smiling faces of my family and friends, only the burnt and/or bloody ones. I don’t think I ever saw them smile.”
Boothill can feel the urge to shoot something. The urge to seek out justice. The calling of The Hunt echoes in his brain. His eyes frantically to find a suitable target. But he tries to remain calm. If he snaps now, he’d be no better than the [shirtbags] that brought war to Argenti’s homeland.
The child continues, “When I blew into the ocarina and tried to play it, it was horrible. I don’t know how to play one. But the sound is so much better than the sounds of guns and bombs.” He turns to Boothill, eyes void of emotion. “A broken tune of an ocarina is better than to hear your parents scream while you’re unable to help.”
“What the [fudge],” Boothill curses in a whisper, running a hand through his hair. “Argenti-”
“Mister Boothill, you have a gun, right? Can you-”
He doesn’t even let the kid finish his sentence. The blankness in his eyes says everything he needs to know. “No.”
Argenti’s eyes widen then his gaze falls to his feet. Boothill can see the kid is battling with himself, countless unanswered questions in his head, and one solution to everything. Throwing caution into the wind and being reckless is indeed Argenti’s style, no matter how much the knight tried to convince him before that despite all of his suicidal missions, he remains unscathed. But what he didn’t expect is that he has been like that since he was a kid.
“Argenti, listen to me,” Boothill moves closer. He is reminded of what his Pop used to do when he is sad. The swallowtail flies away but rests on the ocarina, wings flapping gently. He removes his hat, placing it on the child’s head. “Yer not a bad kid for not saving your parents.”
“... But I let them die, I ran because-”
“Because they want you to live.” Boothill wraps an arm around Argenti, feeling the kid’s shoulders moving as he sobs.
“My friends, they- I told them to follow me down but they-”
“You can not save everyone, Argenti.” I know, but I will never leave a person in need of my help behind. Boothill can hear the knight’s response in his head. It makes sense now.
The young Argenti covers his face as he cries, head resting against Boothill’s side. The ranger lifts his cape, wrapping it around the redhead as he places a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. He knows that this is a dream, but he can’t just let a kid cry.
“You can’t be thinking of offing yourself like that, kid. Yer still young, you got a long journey ahead of ya.”
Argenti stays silent but Boothill can hear the responses and questions he wants to say, like ‘but what’s the point of living’. He has asked those himself. Lan knows how much he wanted to throw his life away when he felt his fleshy arms so empty after her death. He breathes in, grip tightening around the child in his arm.
“I’m scared, Mister Boothill.”
“I know, kid. It’s okay. I’d be scared too.”
“But we’re in a dream, right?” Boothill can feel Argenti’s tug on his jacket. He noogies his head.
“Yer a smart cookie, aren’t ya? Yeah, we are.” Argenti giggles a bit but stops.
“I wish we’re not though. I wish to never wake up. I don’t want to just survive for the sake of survival.”
Boothill sucks in a breath. He is hearing what his old self has been telling himself. He’s not used to hearing it from Argenti. He’s not used to hearing it from a child.
Everyone has their secrets and everyone has their doubts about themselves, and that includes the Knights of Beauty, even if they view such things as trials. Trials of Idrila, they would say. Boothill believes that the Aeon of Beauty has perished, and he knows that Argenti, deep inside, believes that as well. The so-called calling of finding the Aeon and spreading THEIR good word is just something Argenti can do.
Instead of just surviving for the sake of survival.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” Boothill asks, out of curiosity but as well as to change the topic.
Argenti ponders for a bit. “A knight.” He looks up at Boothill with a smile, despite his eyes all puffy and nose red from crying.
Boothill finds himself smiling back. “Yeah? Why a knight?”
“Because they’re cool,” Argenti replies, a typical answer for a kid. “And if I’m a knight, I’d be able to save people.”
And you do. You do save a lot of people. Boothill nods, “Yeah, I agree, knights are cool.”
He bites back the usual response of ‘Rangers are cooler. He and Argenti usually bicker about it, always ending with Boothill a bit pissed off. Not because of what Argenti is yapping about but the fact that he can’t get to Argenti’s nerves.
“Have you ever met a knight, Mister Boothill?” Young Argenti asks.
Boothill grins, forgetting about his augmented teeth. He hears an amused wow from the kid, then feels his fingers poking his tooth. Still a curious soul. But he doesn’t ask about it. He didn’t mean to show off his teeth, but just the thought of him being able to talk about Argenti to his younger self made him happy. He thought about telling him the things that he gets annoyed about Argenti. But that’ll be shorter, and right now, the kid needs some cheering up. So once the kid’s curiosity about his teeth has slowly vanished, he speaks.
“My close friend is a knight,” He actively avoided saying ‘of beauty’. Might make some weird twist of fate if he mentions it. If Argenti isn’t yapping about Idrila at this age, he’d probably be influenced by it later in his life. “He has this giant lance, taller than himself.”
Young Argenti listens intently, eyes round and curious. He waits for more details so Boothill continues, “One time, he told me he saved our friends from this giant awful bug. Didn’t believe the guy ‘til our friends said that it was true.”
“Was he nice to you?”
Boothill blinks then nods, “Yeah, he is. He compliments me a lot, even if I’m a cyborg, and I even fought alongside him.”
Young Argenti smiles and uses Boothill’s cape as a blanket. “Cyborgs are cool too. Cyborg cowboys are cooler.”
Boothill rolls his eyes, but he is smiling. Ever the flatterer, even as a kid. “Yer sounding just like him.”
“He seems like a good guy,” Young Argenti says as he yawns. “He is someone I’d look up to.”
“He’ll be a great influence on ya, kid, I just know it.” Boothill closes his eyes. “I ain’t used to companions, y’know, but he’s different. Somehow, I enjoy our time together.”
“Do you think he’d be able to come and save me?”
He keeps his eyes closed, and he feels Young Argenti moving around, laying his head on one of Boothill’s thighs. He doesn’t respond, not knowing what to say to that. Would Argenti come and save his younger self? Or would he end it all for him? He might not do the latter, but suicidal tendencies can get a grip on people. Boothill would know. He practically killed his old self.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” He replies, opening his eyes. They both stare at the horizon. Boothill notices that the sun is setting, yet the rays of the sun cover the entire field. “I’d like to think he would.”
“I’d like to think that too.”
Boothill reminisces about his family. His siblings. His daughter. Argenti would have loved all of them, and they would love him. Maybe even more than they loved Boothill. He would talk their ears off, and with his caring and gentle nature, even the animals would be following his commands. He’d be a great partner.
But their callings and missions will forever make them come and go. Never staying. Never settling down. He knows Argenti will not make him stop being a Galaxy Ranger and hinder his revenge, and deep inside, even if he has a few irks about the knights and their paths, he’ll never force Argenti to stop being one. Especially now that he has become the person his younger self is yearning to become.
But maybe, if Argenti ever returns his feelings, they’d make it work. He might not be the ideal lover or person in general, but as a Galaxy Ranger, he’d make sure to protect Argenti. He can save all the people he wants to save but Boothill will make sure he knows there’s someone who has his back.
“Mister Boothill?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you be here when I wake up?”
Boothill takes a second. He squeezes Argenti’s shoulder. He’s freezing. “Sure, kid.”
It’s technically not a lie. He’ll be there when the adult Argenti wakes up. But the child doesn’t need to know that. It’ll be just a dream to him, anyway. He needs to wake up at some point.
He closes his eyes and then feels a sudden pull in his body. He jolts, eyes shooting open and hand flinging to his gun but the sudden coolness of the water stops his movement. He is back in his hotel room. He exhales, eyes scanning his environment.
“A good dream, I’m guessing?”
His grip on his gun loosens when Black Swan materializes out of nowhere. She has her signature teasing smile on her lips, one leg folded over the other as she levitates in front of Boothill.
“[Forking heaven], girl, ya scared me.” He huffs out, running his fingers through his hair. Wait, where is his hat? “Where-”
“Your hat is in good hands, do not worry.” Black Swan replies, dipping her fingers in the water. “I heard you were back in Penacony, and wanted to visit my friend. Maybe share a drink or two of Asdana’s White Oak?”
Boothill leans back, scanning the Memokeeper’s face. “What are you on about, Black Swan?”
“Distrust me already? I’m hurt. And here I was, helping you dream a little better.”
“You- That dream-” Boothill stammers and Black Swan smiles. “But you’re not-”
“It’s a technique I borrowed from the Dreamweavers.”
Black Swan floats down, walking around Boothill’s dreampool. She dips her fingers in the water once more, swirling the liquid. It starts turning a different color - Memoria- and Boothill moves away, feeling dizzy. It quickly disappears and the Memokeeper lifts her hand, something glowing following suit.
“Our time during the Charmony Festival was brief, but I took a liking on you-”
“Sorry to disappoint but-”
“As a friend.” Black Swan clarifies, holding the thing she created in the memoria. “I am very much aware you love the Knight of Beauty next door.”
Boothill tries to retort or say something but no words come out of his mouth. He glares at the Memokeeper who is smirking at him. He groans, covering his face as he feels the embarrassment creeping in.
“T’is an invasion of privacy, y’know,” he says, and Black Swan hums.
“I needed a guinea pig,” Boothill immediately puts his hands down to glare bullets into the woman’s skull. “And most dreams of people are boring.”
“I don’t know if I should be glad or angry that ya don’t consider me boring,” He huffs.
“So, for my little theory to work, I made you, and the knight dream of something a little different.” She says with a smile. “Mr. Argenti will wake up soon.”
“You [shirtbag],” Boothill seethes, leaning on the decision of scattering Black Swan’s brain. He takes her down two levels in his list of friends. Black Swan just turns around, observing whatever is in her hands.
He stands up, wanting her to leave so he can be alone with his thoughts. Maybe he can track down Acheron, and have her put the Memokeeper on a leash or something. He wriggles out, shaking his legs. He does a quick checkup on his system, making sure everything is fine. He looks over to the table, finding two bottles and two wine glasses. One is Asdana’s White Oak and a rosé he is unfamiliar with. Argenti’s preferred wine is a rosé.
“You’ve been together long?” Black Swan snaps her fingers and the material she’s been messing with disappears. She turns to Boothill, whose eyebrows furrow.
“Who?”
“You and your ‘partner’,” She tilts her head towards the side, hinting that she meant the knight next door.
“Oh, no, no,” Boothill says, both embarrassed and annoyed at the woman in front of him. “It’s not-” He sighs. “It’s not like that.”
Black Swan crosses her arms. “It certainly looks like that, from here.” She raises a brow at him, genuinely curious. “Oh, so you’ve just recently hooked up?”
Boothill shakes his head, a series of ‘no’s coming out of his mouth. He should really just shoot her dead, so he can get out of this conversation.
“You got a husband? Or a boyfriend? The knight your bit on the side?”
His fingers are twitching. He is honestly craving for a target and she’s starting to look like one. He wants to scream at her, tell her that he is a [forking] Galaxy Ranger, and having a lover is difficult with him moving about. But he got more pissed when Black Swan calls Argenti, of all people, ‘a bit on the side’.
“He’s not my bit on the side!” He scowls. “He’s far too pure of heart to be anyone’s bit on the side.”
Boothill hates how Black Swan is looking at him. She has that knowing smile like Stelle did before. Causing a scene is too much hassle, even if he is craving for a fight. So he runs his fingers through his hair, his other hand on his hip.
“He’s just… a knight I know.”
Black Swan shrugs her shoulders. “If you say so.”
She turns to the door and starts to walk. Boothill is glad that she’s finally leaving. But just as she reaches for the handle, she stops and looks over her shoulder.
“But then again, other people’s love lives always seem so much more straightforward than our own.”
Boothill stands there, staring at her. Black Swan fully opens the door, showing Argenti on the other side, a fist raised. He seems to be in the middle of knocking on the door. She quietly leaves, Argenti stepping to the side to let her go. Boothill notices his hat on his hands.
Argenti closes the door behind him, that all-familiar smile on his lips.
Boothill finally relaxes, grinning at the redhead. “My knight.”
"Hello, my silver cowboy."