The general sorts of sounds that one could usually hear in Lim's workshop are those along the lines of scientific sounds as opposed to the sorts of sounds usually heard in, say, a certain Superstore of Savings, wherein the noise is a little bit more magical in nature. Indeed, the workshop was filled with the crackle of electricity darting through the air between poles of metal, the whizz of plasma against glass, and the whir of the gears and fans within robots scuttling across cold stone floors, just as it would be on any day.
On this day, however, those sounds were joined by another sound, one that was a bit more common around the place than Lim would like.
"Aren't you going to even crack one smile, broccoli?"
Cysero's voice.
Lim's grip on the wrench in his hand tightened exponentially, knuckles turning white with the effort it took to keep the tool focused on tightening the bolt that needed tightened rather than throwing it at his fellow weaponsmith's face.
Certainly, the two of them had been on rather more amiable terms since the series of events that had been dubbed 'the Clashening', but that didn't stop the Mad Magical Weaponsmith from possessing the ability to be one of the most annoying beings on the face of Lore to the scientist.
He had shown up two hours ago, grin on his face, and cheerily asked to watch as he worked on his current project. When Lim had met the request with a suspicious look and an enquiry to why, Cysero had just shrugged and said that he "felt nostalgic". Then he had hopped up to sit on a crate, and Lim knew from experience that he wasn't going to be able to get the other to leave. So he went for the next best thing.
Ignored him and kept working on his project.
It had gone well enough for the first five minutes. And then Cysero had started talking.
At first, it hadn't been too bad. Cysero had actually had a few useful tips for the project Lim was working on, surprising as the mage having knowledge of science was.
(Of course, almost all of those tips had consisted of variations of the phrase "Don't do that or it will blow up," and Cysero was quite knowledgeable on the topic of explosions. It wasn't too much of a surprise that he would know how to do so using science as well as magic)
And then, half an hour after his arrival, Cysero had started on the puns.
Lim didn't really mind puns, overmuch. One couldn't really live in Falconreach without developing if not an affection, then at least a tolerance, for that particular type of humour. The problem was that once Cysero had started, he hadn't stopped. And all of the puns were based around the same word.
It had been non-stop bro puns. For two. and a half. hours.
He had thought that the mage would have to run out eventually, but Cysero just kept going. He seemed to have no limit to the number of words and phrases he could incorporate the word 'bro' into. Everything from foods (brotato, bronana, bromato, with both pronunciations of 'tomato') to animals (brotterfly and bro-footed broby stood out particularly) to completely nonsensical things that likely only made sense to Cysero himself (brocaloid, broba fett, brorannosaurus rex; at one point he had called him "Bro Nye the Science Guy", flat out cackled at his own joke, and then grinned manically and refused to explain). With the number that Cysero had come up with, Artix would most likely be impressed.
Lim, on the other hand, was fast approaching his wits end. The fact that he had very nearly laughed at a few of the early ones didn't help, as Cysero had noticed and had seemingly ramped up the puns to try and get him to properly laugh.
"Come on, brofessor, don't ignore me! It's not nice to ignore people, after all, brohana means family, and family means-"
"Would you SHUT UP?!" Lim finally snapped, pinning Cysero with an angry glare. "I am sick of those puns. Would you just let me work in peace?"
Cysero's mouth clamped shut with a click and silence fell. The weaponsmith tilted his head, hair swishing to the side but somehow still covering his eyes.
"Sorry," he said, eventually "Didn't realise I was bothering you," There was another pause "...that much,"
It was quiet again, but for the background noises they had both stopped noticing.
"Just one more?" the mage asked, hopping down from the crate. "You'll like this one, I'm sure of it,"
Lim sighed, rolling his eyes skyward.
"If you must," he replied. "And then you'll leave?"
"You got it, Atomic Number Thirty-Five," Cysero replied, grinning widely. There was a certain air to him that suggested his eyes were twinkling behind the brown shroud that hid them from the world.
Electricity crackled, plasma whizzed, robots whirred and clanked.
"...what?" Lim asked.
Cysero's face fell.
"...oh," he said, something like sullen realisation overcoming the previously cheerful attitude. "Right. You don't have...don't know...right. Hasn't been invented yet,"
"What?" Lim repeated.
Cysero waved a hand dismissively, previous cheerful air seemingly returning.
"Eh, don't worry about it," he said, the grin back on his face. "I'll be going now, like I said I would,"
Lim was about to tell him to wait, ask what he had meant, what was bothering him – that grin was obviously fake – but then Cysero was gone just as suddenly as he showed up.
Lim turned his eyes to his invention, the one he had wanted peace to work on, and put the wrench in his hand down. Instead of working on it like he intended to, he found himself pondering the significance of 'atomic number thirty-five'.
In all honesty, this fic was shameless self-indulgence that I wrote while sick. I thought of the 'atomic number 35' joke during Chemistry class at school and then it ended up turning into a fic. (In case you don't get it, the element with atomic number 35 is bromine. Yeah. I have an awful sense of humour. I know. I also thought of that 'brohana' one on my own. I shouldn't be allowed near puns, in honesty)