Chapter Text
Once he had a picture of who he was now, an idea for a physical manifestation that represented the core of him, he took it and pushed outwards. He expressed himself in his long arms and legs, his dark swept back hair, the crisp line of his jaw, and the curl of his fingers. While he pushed forth from his gem, Robbie wondered how long he’d been out for. Hours? Days? Weeks? He couldn’t tell. When a gem was damaged enough to have to revert back to the inside of the actual gem itself, time became hard to track as self-actualization took on a far too literal meaning that humans never had to contemplate. Robbie had to figure out who he was now that he no longer was the Villain of Lazytown. He had to figure out who he wanted to be.
He didn’t really have an answer. It had been so long since he had been anything else and he had liked being Robbie Rotten. If he wasn’t being lazy, inventing things on a whim, sprucing up the lair, eating delectable human sweets, and just being the antithesis to Sportacus then what was he? What was he supposed to be? There were answers to that question he thoroughly rejected. Like being someone else’s pawn… or should he say, subject. All gems were originally created with the most recently updated and relevant information for how they would best serve their Diamond.
Disgusting. The thought of serving anyone but himself made his mouth feel like he’d accidentally eaten something healthy, like celery. Barf. But, regardless, every time he reformed, that baseline information popped up informing him on what he should be, what he should do, what he should look like. How best could he serve the illustrious Blue Diamond? Who cared? Really? That two-story titanic blowhard couldn’t care one iota for him but he was suddenly supposed to lay down his life from creation to her? Please. He would rather be forced to exercise. Brushing her obsolete orders away was child’s play now after centuries of practice, but knowing what you weren’t didn’t really help you in knowing what you were.
And that was the real question. Who was he now? Now that he could no longer be Robbie Rotten, what was his name? What would be his new purpose? What would he look like? Who would he be? Who would he like to be? These questions were why it had taken him so long to form. A gems mind was much more intimately connected to their body than a human’s was. If he didn’t have an answer then he wouldn’t be able to be.
For the moment, he just knew he wanted to be free. He wanted to be lazy. He wanted to be safe. It seemed that was enough of an answer to cobble together a sense of self.
So, he pushed outwards, formed hard light limbs, and took shape.
He blinked. His form was… different than it had been before. He was used to using human clothes and makeup, for the most part, in order to have non-purple and pink hues since that’s all he was capable of. That meant he normally left his gem form plain enough to put things over it and in a solid enough tone to pass as human skin. At the moment he looked like someone had just splashed pink and purple across him without care. It was so antithetical to who he was, wasn’t it? …Wasn’t it? And then those two colors bled into each other, creating a complete mess across his face and… and the rest of him.
He cursed. Single colored gems didn’t have this problem. But when you were bi-colored like him? Ugh, getting everything exactly how you want was a nightmare, and if he was being honest, he had rushed his reformation. He hadn’t been ready. He hardly knew who he wanted to be anymore, let alone what he was supposed to do with himself.
He at least was happy with the straight lines of his body and clothing. Well, his body was his clothing but it was easier to describe it in human terms considering he’d lived among them far longer than his own kind. He took to admiring his nails as their color swirled nicely while the shape remained trim should he need to do work with his hands. His shoes were slim with a solid arch that made a fun tapping noise. Were they based off tap shoes? Oh, it had been so long since he had worn tap shoes. The last time had been… oh, right. He had stopped because he needed to be sneakier around Sporta-loser. Ugh.
But…
It wasn’t safe, all alone, as a gem without a body.
He was being vain, he knew, but he thought if there was one thing he wanted to keep about the old him it was that. His vanity made sure he looked fabulous.
Slowly, the gem refocused on the world around him.
This… this wasn’t the street. This wasn’t the sewers either so he hadn’t been washed down by the rain.
He knew exactly what this was, with its smooth walls and lack of furniture. White, blue, sterile, and utterly still. His downloaded memories from before he was born, the poorly executed pre-first-time formation programing filled him mind with facts and data.
This was a cell.
This was a cell aboard a gem ship.
Robbie shut down. There was nothing here, no comforts, nothing human. An energy barrier between him and freedom would light up if he tried walking out. It would be excruciatingly painful to try and if he tried too hard, could destabilize his body once more and he’d be back to square one, back inside his gem. He knew there must be cameras. There always were.
He sat in a corner.
Oh shattering, this was his worst nightmare.
He shook, pulled his legs up to his chest, rested his head in his knees, and started to cry.