Over the past year, Peridot had moved out of Steven's bathroom and into Steven's aunt and uncle's old barn just outside of Beach City. She had, effectively, become one of the Crystal Gems when she joined forces with them to put a stop to the ancient Gem Cluster that was incubating in the center of Earth. The planet would have been destroyed if not for Peridot's help. Everyone was thankful for her.
In the middle of all that, Steven had begun to have strange dreams in which he was a watermelon version of himself that would inevitably be sacrificed to a god of the sea. As it turned out, the watermelon Stevens from about a year and a half ago were inhabiting a tropical island, and dwelling in the waters surrounding this island was the sea god. That sea god was Malachite. With the help of the watermelon Stevens, the Crystal Gems were able to defeat Malachite and recover Lapis Lazuli, finally.
Finding no place to go, Lapis moved into the barn with Peridot. Their relationship has been discriminatory at its worst, and tumultuous at its best, but Peridot and Lapis, lately, have been bonding over the trashiest drama television had to offer (if only Steven felt like telling them there were other shows out there).
Also, Steven had turned the big 1-4.
In the present, no longer a child with child-like endeavor, Steven deemed it his supreme responsibility early that morning to teach Peridot about fart jokes. Though Lapis didn't know farts were called farts, she was already in on them, so it was only fair if Peridot knew about them, too.
On this day in June, Steven was heading up to the barn with Garnet from the nearest warp pad. Garnet had caught Steven before he left and asked him where he was going. He told her. She hesitated in her response.
"Something wrong?" Steven said.
"I'll come with you," Garnet said.
Stars appeared before Steven's eyes.
With a pep in his step, Steven hummed nothing in particular on the trail to the barn. He looked forward to having Garnet help with the farting.
The silo jutting out diagonally of the barn's east wall was always the first thing Steven noticed when he came over. Lapis and Peridot certainly made the barn their own, what with the bed of a pickup truck sticking out of the attic, the hole in the dirt out front that was their in-ground pool, the camping tent in the grass that was an homage to that terrible TV drama, the large antenna behind the barn (for internet), and the clothesline that spanned the distance between that and the silo.
They liked to use the leftover junk from the barn as decor here and there, however, their sense of feng shui had a certain essence of trailer park; strangers could mistake their aesthetic for trash the junkyard didn't want.
"Steven!" It was Lapis. She had an Olympic swimming pool's worth of water floating, wishy-washy, over the farm's crops. A hand on her shoulder and her other waving like a crab claw, the flying pool rained down over the corn and stuff without Lapis looking at it.
"Hi, Lap-"
"STEVEN?!" That was Peridot from inside the barn. She grunted. Something metal clanged. Then the leaning tower of pizza pans came crashing to the earth in an avalanche. Peridot groaned.
"Peridot? Are you-"
"Steven!" exclaimed Peridot, running out of the barn to him. Something was in her hands.
"Ya ok in there?" said Steven.
Peridot flapped away his question, "Yes, yes, yes, feelings and all that, but GAZE!" With a shimmer, she held what was in her palm high as if it had descended from the sky. It looked similar to a puzzle cube with more divisions, only without so many colors.
"Consume with your eyes," began Peridot, "an indubitable display of master design and craft! Ingest with your ears an orchestra worthy for mountaintops in compact form! And savor with your soul the presence of the maestra, Peridot! as she presents to all of you incapable of containing yourselves her latest gift to all those beneath her! This shall render you senseless!"
Peridot posed again with her little box held high, her cheeks stretched from ear to ear. Steven just smiled and waited, enjoying her.
And he waited. The muscles in Peridot's face twitched from being too taut for too long, and a bead of sweat formed on her temple. "Lazuli," she called through her teeth. Lapis was still watering. Peridot tried again. "LAZULI!"
"I told you I'm not doing this."
Peridot growled, her frown so strong it made her chin bigger. In the dumbest voice, she said, "'What does it do, O magnificent Gem who's better than me in every possible way?'" Surprised, Steven stifled his laughter because he wasn't sure if it would bother Lapis if he did laugh.
Peridot resumed, "Well, behold, you baser creatures, what the beneficent Peridot has crafted new with these... artisan hands." Done fawning over her little green hands, Peridot tapped the top of the cube with her middle finger.
Garnet said to Steven, "How could I have possibly foreseen this?" Steven giggled.
The cube in Peridot's hand floated up and opened, and opened, and opened some more. It split into pieces and arranged themselves into an octagon in front of Peridot. Then eight beams of light shot from one side to its opposing side, a pair of beams for each side. The octagon floated upright and perpendicular to Peridot, however, and Steven noticed that not all the beams connected with one another-on Peridot's left side, four beams crossed each other like a lower case T, and on her right, four beams crossed like an X. The lasers were green, of course.
Cracking her knuckles, Peridot thrust one of her fingers through a beam of light. And, like a witch, Steven could've sworn Peridot was magic, for sound warbled from the beam of light which Peridot interrupted! Then she moved her finger up the beam and the pitch of the sound went higher.
Steven had goosebumps. "Peridooooot!" he yodeled, "what have you dooooooooooooooooone?!"
She threw her hands into the beams and laughed like a gremlin, "I have created music!" Peridot jitterbugged her arms all through the grids of light while swaying her head and her rump like she was breakin' everyone's heart. But, really, she was breakin' everyone's eardrums with her equivalent of smashing a howling cat into a keyboard.
In the middle of her jam session, Steven approached Peridot and grabbed her flaying hands tenderly through her instrument of light. She stopped. Steven lowered his voice to a whisper. "How does it work?"
"Indeed," said Peridot, making herself tall. She took back her hands and her instrument. "When researching the basic components of what music is made of-a specific set of sound waves vibrating from low to high pitches in an array known as octaves-the rest became so simple even a Ruby could've figured it out... Well. Maybe I shouldn't go that far."
Garnet had the vastness of the cosmos in her shades.
Peridot had the vastness of the cosmos in her visor.
"Regardless," she continued, "the perimeter of the instrument is comprised of sensors which observe the beams of light emitted throughout. Should something interrupt said beams, the sensors register this and the location of the interruption, then relays this information to the instruments sound system, which, in turn, emits the specific pitch which has been programmed for that location. It's rudimentary, really. Or, should I say, Ruby-mentary." Peridot chortled.
GARNET HAD THE VASTNESS OF THE COSMOS IN HER SHADES.
Despite this, Steven fawned, "Peridot, this is amazing!"
"I know. Since each beam is produced by two lasers from their respective axes, each beam can emit up to two pitches of sound should their be more than one interruption throughout its length. Each intersection can also play notes in unison."
Steven stuck a finger in the way of a laser and a note warbled from the instrument. He thought of the soundtrack to Meteoroid.
Peridot looked to the sky in reverie. "Can't you imagine what masterpieces I could create with this instrument if only I had back my limb enhancers?"
Steven, arrowed by the cherub that was Peridot, grabbed his cheeks and inhaled the heavens from which she descended. In his gasp to end all gasps, he pivoted to face Garnet.
"No."
The kingdom of heaven that Steven inhaled then fell from his breath and collapsed to the ground. He turned back to Peridot and, with the last angel that was hanging on his tongue, wheezed, "I'm sorry."
Peridot said, "Nevermind it."
"What do you call it?" (Hearing Lapis ask this reminded Steven of how Lapis was trying and how proud he was of her.)
"I have dubbed it the fluctuating auditory replaying tessellation. Rolls right off the phonetic lapper, don't you think?"
"FART?" said Lapis.
"What?" said Peridot.
Steven lost his mind.
"F-A-R-T," reiterated Lapis. "FART."
"Well, yes," said Peridot, "if you want to be inane with its name, then yes. You could call it the FART."
Peridot turned to see Steven running his hands through her instrument. "Garnet, look," he guffawed, "I'm playing with Peridot's FART!"
Garnet chuckled.
"What's so funny?" asked Peridot, insulted. Lapis didn't get it either, but she tried smiling.
Garnet stopped Steven's hands from going to town on the FART. She was smiling at him. "It's an impressive invention, Peridot," she said. "Thank you for showing us." Steven dropped his hands when Garnet let go. Peridot's FART quieted.
"The pleasure is all yours, surely," said Peridot.
"Of course. However, I wanted to speak to you about something."
"I've already told you I won't throw anything or anyone off the roof anymore!"
"No. It's not that."
Peridot eyed Garnet's cosmos.
"I need your help."
...