Chapter Text
Garmadon stood frustrated in front of a table, a mirror held in front of him. His entire head was engulfed in a pulsing purple energy. Parts of his hair were brown, some gray, and in a completely different style; while another was white and in a…half…top, knot? The ex-warlord grunted in frustration and exerted a little more energy to morph parts of his natural hair into a slightly darker shade, though it did little to lighten his brooding mood.
“No…not quite…”
It was clear that he was using every little bit of self-control he learned to not disintegrate that poor mirror.
Knock knock
“Hey Garmadon…! I’m back…” Vinny called through the door as he unlocked it. The cameraman stepped through, set his camera down on the floor, and slumped forward. It's been a long day.
“Ah, Vinny. I am glad to be accompanied by your presence. You seem quite exhausted, would you care for some cola?” Garmadon asked politely, reaching towards the table to grab a new can of said fizzy drink.
Vinny perked up instantly.
“Wh- wha? Whaddid you say?” He asked, taken aback at Garmadon’s uncharacteristic politeness. Has he been possessed by a butler ghost or something?
He lifted his head up and instantly flung himself backwards– unsuccessfully holding back a scream.
Even Garmadon flinched. He cocked his head, then made his way towards his roommate.
“Are you alright?” Garmadon asked, genuinely concerned.
Vinny was up against the door, wide-eyed and panting.
“Me?! Are you alright?!” Vinny exclaimed.
“Hm?”
The cameraman stared at his roommate. Of all the weird, unusual shenanigans he’s done, this by far takes the cake.
His hair was an absolute mess. Why are some parts brown? Why are some parts gray? And how- no, why is his top knot split down the middle, with a combed hairstyle on the other side? What- this shapeshifting is getting ridiculous. And are we not even going to talk about his face? Why is half of it that of an old man’s?
Vinny readjusted his cap and reluctantly began to look down. His outfit was different. Not the usual grease-soda-and-unknown-purple-liquid-ooze stained bathrobe, but…if he had to take a guess…
“Is that a Sensei gi?”
Garmadon’s eyes lit up at the mention of that.
“Why yes it is! My, Vinny. Your wisdom seems to extend beyond words, visually too.” The man said, proudly showing off his new shapeshifted gi. But alas, that little burst of excitement was short-lived. He looked down at himself and mustered a sigh.
The gi was not properly formed. All the details were messed up, heck, it was a miracle that he even got the colors right. Well, the man only got to look at the picture for a couple of seconds. You can’t blame him for not remembering every little detail.
“Are you…trying to look like someone?”
Garmadon dropped his gentlemanly act.
“YES! Yes, Vinny. But I can’t seem to remember what he- I- what it looks like! All my memories are jammed up, I barely got to look at the picture before shattering it, and every attempt leading up to this point has been a disappointment!” Garmadon ranted angrily, throwing his hands up and walking back to the table.
Vinny stood up and watched as Garmadon’s head became surrounded by purple. He felt a pang of pity for the man. Resurrected against his will and forced to live as an amnesiac.
“...”
Vinny walked closer to him.
“Wait, Garmadon, turn around?”
The man turned his head.
“What?”
Vinny studied his face, then his outfit. Within a minute, it clicked.
“Aha! You’re trying to look like Sensei Garmadon! Your past self!”
“Oh. Yes, I am. What about it?”
“Of course, no wonder it felt so familiar.”
Vinny felt a smile form on his face. Sure, he could most definitely get pictures of past him on the internet, but this seems like the golden opportunity to help him rebuild some bridges while he’s at it.
“Well, I don’t seem to have any pictures of Sensei G around here, so you must’ve gotten the reference from somewhere else.”
“Yes I- I’ve seen a picture of myself aboard the Bounty-”
“If you really want to complete that look…”
“...Maybe you should go and pay a nice visit to some old friends.”