A/N: New chapter. I've received a few requests to see what the Courier's stats are, and so I'll have that up next chapter.
For now, see if you can guess what Perks came into play this time.
Chapter 2:
There were two moons.
It was a simple thing, but it was still causing John to stare up into the sky with growing horror. He gave the bottle in his hand a suspicious glance before shaking his head. He hadn't had that much to drink.
And yet, despite the fact that he was sober, there were still two moons hovering in the heavens, shining almost obnoxiously brightly as if to taunt him. John scowled.
Don't get caught up on this, he thought with forced calm. Examine the positive side of it instead.
For one thing, it definitively proved that he wasn't on Earth anymore. Which in turn raised a whole bunch of questions he didn't want to consider, so it wasn't really much of a bright side.
He shot Louise a glance. The girl had eventually managed to sink into a deeper slumber, her emotional exhaustion finally catching up to her. He wondered if she'd mind being woken up to answer a few more questions. He suspected the answer would be yes.
Which left him two options. First, wait for Louise to wake up. Then question her. About the familiar summoning ritual, about the country he was in and most importantly about the fact that there were two moons holy shit how does that even work.
He could even catch some sleep in the meantime.
The second involved leaving her unattended and searching for an alternative source of information. This place was an academy, after all. That meant that is was quite likely that there a library somewhere. Of course, the existence of a library didn't mean he'd actually be able to read anything. Whatever magic had granted him the ability to understand their language wouldn't necessarily extend to the written word.
After a moment, he shrugged. He'd never been fond of sleep anyway, unless it was alcohol induced. If nothing else, he could do with some fresh air. Louise's room was far too heavily perfumed.
Slipping up to the night desk next to Louise's bed, he took the small, silver key that he'd watched the girl use to open the locks and slipped it into his pocket before making his way over to the door.
Just as he was about to leave he turned back to face her.
"I'll lock up behind me," he whispered as he closed the door.
The night air felt good against John's skin as he moved through the hallways. It was certainly far nicer than the Mojave, which alternated between boiling heat and freezing cold with little middle ground to be found. And air conditioning could never quite capture the feeling of a natural air.
Despite the pleasant atmosphere, he soon found himself facing a fairly significant issue. Namely, that he had no clue where he was going. He'd hoped to encounter a student or servant he could ask for directions, but apparently most people in this world didn't like going on night-time strolls.
The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than he heard the sound of hurried footsteps from a corridor to his left. He turned.
Running at full pelt, hands clutching at her skirts, was a rather attractive young woman. She had short black hair and pale face, but in truth his attention was drawn to what she wearing rather than her appearance. It vaguely resembled the fetish outfits some of the hookers in Gomorrah wore, albeit far modest.
The girl was a maid then. Perhaps she would know where the library was. John raised a hand, a greeting on his lips. At that exact moment, the girl staggered, finally losing her battle against the ungainly clothing as she stumbled, a fall inevitable.
Reflexes and instinct kicked in, and John darted forward. He lowered his stance, catching her gently with both arms. He slipped one hand round her waist and seized her shoulder with the other, correcting her balance. For a moment he stood there, holding her steady until she found her feet beneath her. Then he released her and stepped backwards.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
The girl turned to face him, then nodded. "I-I am. Thank you very much for catching me."
"Don't worry about it." John gave a dismissive wave. Then he smiled, turning up the charm. "I could hardly let a beautiful young lady injure herself right in front of me."
The girl blushed at the compliment and John fought back a grin. He still had it. Once a lady killer, always a lady killer. It was all about the way you held yourself, the confidence and openness in your body language. The circumstances in which you met someone helped too. And a young woman whom he'd just caught in the midst of falling? Charming her was like shooting fish in a barrel with a plasma rifle. Even if you missed, you still superheated the water.
Of course, the girl herself wasn't especially important. The fact that she was a key to getting to know the rest of the academies servants was. People, especially the rich and privileged, ignored servants. And so they heard things while performing their duties that they weren't supposed to know and had their own rumour mills, which tended towards being more accurate than most. If he was going to be in this place for more than few days, which seemed like it was going to be the case, then he wanted a network. He wanted friends and allies who happily imparted all they knew, fully trusting him to keep it secret.
If a few smiles and compliments would get him access to that then he'd gladly give them. The library could wait.
"Ah… well…" The girl murmured, apparently too flustered to come up with a proper response.
"If you don't mind me asking, why were you in such a rush?" John asked, moving the conversation along before she could rally. "Those clothes you're wearing don't look suitable for moving very fast."
"One of the students wants a midnight meal," the maid answered, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "She was also very clear that she wanted it as soon possible."
"I see," John replied. "Do you need any help?"
"Oh no!" The girl waved her hands desperately. "I couldn't trouble you!"
"It's no trouble, Miss…?"
"Siesta. But-"
"It's no trouble, Miss Siesta," John repeated, smiling gently. "I'd be more than happy to help. It'll go faster with two sets of hands, right?"
"Oh, there's no need for the 'Miss'," Siesta said. "Just call me Siesta. And if you're sure, then I'd be happy for your help, Mr…?"
John smiled. "John Smith. But there's no need for the 'Mr'. Just call me John."
"Of course." The girl beamed at him. Suddenly, she frowned. "But, um, who are you? I don't think I've seen you before."
"Good question," he replied, giving a slight laugh. "I was summoned here earlier by a mage called Louise. Apparently, I'm her familiar."
Siesta clapped her hands together. "I'd heard about that! That was you?"
"It was," he said. "Though I must admit, the whole thing is still something of a mystery to me. No one's told me anything in detail."
Siesta scowled. "That doesn't surprise me. Nobles don't tend to explain much to commoners like us. They just give orders and expect them to be obeyed."
"Nobles?"
"Y'know," Siesta gave another wave of her hands as she answered. John couldn't help but note that she was a very expressive person. "People who can use magic."
John gave her a blank stare. "I think you're going to have to start from the beginning."
The walk to the kitchen was surprisingly enjoyable. Siesta was good company and was practically abuzz with information. He quickly managed to get a solid grounding about his current situation out of what she told him.
He was in Tristain, a feudal country ruled by a magical nobility who in turn answered to the royal family. Those without any magical talent were the peasant class, serving their mystical betters. He wasn't sure what to think of that system. On one hand, Tristain wasn't an irradiated hellhole, so who was he to judge? They'd obviously taken better care of their land than the people of his own world had. Or maybe they just hadn't had as much time to destroy it yet. Either way, it was still a much nicer place than the Mojave.
On the other hand, the whole system smacked too much of the Legion for his liking. Not nearly as extreme or soul-crushing to watch, but with enough similarities that he was uncomfortable. No gender roles like Caesar had enforced, but class roles instead. Royalty trumps nobility, nobility trumps peasant, peasant trumps absolutely nothing, so they fought amongst each other to be top of their own little heap. No way out of your section of the hierarchy, or very few ways at least. It was a system that his own world had outgrown years ago, barring the attempts of a few madmen trying to revive it, or something akin to it.
He shook his head. No point thinking about it right now. He wasn't about to try and shake things up without a good reason.
At any rate, Tristain Academy served as a training ground for those with the ability to use magic, educating them in how to use their powers. This also meant that essentially every student was also a noble of some kind. His own 'master' was no exception to this, apparently being the child of an exceedingly prestigious family.
"Except she hasn't got an ounce of talent," Siesta said. "The students call her Louise the Zero, because she can't use a single element. All she can do is make things blow up."
"That's pretty useful," John said. He could barely hold back a grin. Obviously the girl had been born in the wrong world. The Boomers would have made her a living saint.
"Not by the standards of the rest of them," Siesta said. "There were some bets going around among the pupils about whether she'd blow up the field or just completely fail to summon anything."
"And then I came along. No doubt I have some lifelong friends among the bookies now. They must have made a fortune."
Siesta gave a light, tinkling laugh at that. "I'm sure they're very grateful. Ah, we're here."
She pushed open a door in the corridor and stepped through. John followed her, only to be immediately assailed by dozens of smells. The scent of cooked meat and freshly-baked bread in particular played around his nostrils, accompanied by the faint spice of a herb he couldn't place. He took a deep breath, savouring it. He was suddenly aware he hadn't eaten for seven hours.
Siesta giggled as she saw the look on his face. "Shall I get the chef to make you something as well?"
"If it's not too much trouble," he replied. His tone was somewhat embarrassed.
"It won't be," the maid said. She spun on heel, waving her hand. "Chef! Are there any platters left? Montmorency has company, and she'd like a snack."
A large man, solidly built man turned to her, a scowl on his face. "Guiche again? Founder, that's the third time this week." The chef sighed. "Whatever. I just finished making a fresh one. Grab a tea tray and get them to the brats."
"Also, are there any leftovers? My friend here is hungry." Siesta said, gesturing at John.
The chef blinked. "And this is…?"
"John Smith. It's a pleasure to meet you." John stepped forward as he spoke, extending a hand. The chef shook it firmly.
"Solid grip," the man noted, nodding his head approvingly. "I'm Abelard Beaumont, head chef here at the Academy."
"John's the man Louise summoned," Siesta said excitedly.
Abelard gave John a surprised look. "That so? Didn't expect to see you so soon."
"I needed some fresh air. The perfuming in my summoner's room is little too excessive for my tastes."
The chef laughed. "Hah! I'll bet it is. Those brats don't know the meaning of moderation."
John was getting an idea of how the other man's mind worked now. He was a rough sort, but there was a degree of kindness there too. That said, Abelard was definitely chafing under the noble's rule. Not surprising. A combination of arrogance and unearned power was normally distinctly unpleasant to have to spend time with and from the little he'd seen and heard, the students here possessed both in abundance. Judging by the look on Siesta's face earlier, a certain degree of resentment towards the nobility was likely quite common.
Abelard turned to Siesta. "Why are you still here? Those plates aren't going to carry themselves."
"Oh! Well, John said that he'd help me," Siesta replied hurriedly. She shot him a glance that clearly asked for some backup.
"I did say I'd give her a hand," John admitted. "So just point me at what you want me to carry and I'll take it."
"Really? Well, I won't complain." The chef pointed at a tray laden with small pastries and fruits, then to another with a pot of tea and two delicate china cups. "Take one each and try not to break anything. Stuff costs a fortune."
"I've got them," John said, cutting in front of Siesta and picking both up easily. "Lead the way, Siesta."
The girl gave him a concerned look. "Are you sure? They're quite heavy. I'll happily take one."
"They're light as a feather," he replied dismissively. Which was very nearly true. They weren't quite featherweight, but the combination of a reinforced spine and hypertrophy accelerator certainly made them feel quite light. Besides, he'd trekked through the Mojave in full combat gear while carrying a gun big enough to club someone with more than once. Not being able to take a couple of plates a few hundred metres would just be embarrassing.
"I'll have some stew waiting for you when you get back," Abelard called out as they left the kitchen.
The journey back through the halls went fast enough, though there was less talking. Siesta glanced at him to make sure he wasn't struggling with the plates a few times, but eventually seemed reassured that he hadn't just been bluffing to protect his pride.
After a few minutes walk they reached a door in a long, winding corridor. Siesta knocked briefly and then waited. After a moment, a loud, slightly shrill voice called out.
"What is it?"
"We've brought you refreshments, milady."
"Come in!"
Siesta opened the door and stepped in. John followed, wrinkling his nose at the smell. If Louise used too much perfume, then this girl drowned her room in it. Compared to the fresh air of the hallway or the natural smell of the kitchen, this was like he'd shoved his head into a vat of acid.
Sitting by a large table were two young students. One, a blonde girl with her hair tied into elegant drills was sitting with her back straight, watching them with a measured, imperious look. He presumed she was Montmorency. The other was a boy with hair that matched the girl's. Unlike the girl however, he was far more relaxed and not paying them a great of attention. Or, at least, not paying John a great deal of attention. He seemed to take whatever chances he could to glance at Siesta without the blonde girl noticing.
He was quite sure he'd seen them both before, back when he'd first been summoned. If he recalled correctly, Montmorency had been one of the ones who laughed the hardest.
"Put it down on the table," the noble girl said, gesturing in front of her.
John obliged, suppressing the urge to spill some hot tea on the girl as he did so. As he stepped back, the boy frowned at him.
"You… aren't you the familiar Louise summoned?"
"I am," John replied. "Is there something the matter?"
The boy stared at him. "Surely she hasn't assigned you to kitchen duty?
John opened his mouth to respond, but Montmorency cut across him. "Oh, stop questioning the servant, Guiche. Who cares if he's helping out in the kitchens? Any familiar Louise summoned can't be good for much else."
I could snap your neck with one hand, John thought dryly. Does that count as 'much else'?
"Well, I suppose so." Guiche said, smiling at Montmorency.
You too, kid. Hell, I could take you both at the same time. I have two hands.
"Please feel free to call if you need anything else," Siesta said, bowing. Montmorency gave her a dismissive wave.
Just as he was following Siesta out the door, John turned. Montmorency had reached into a small pouch by her side and was presenting Guiche with a crystal bottle, coloured a vivid pink by the liquid inside.
"I made it myself," she said excitedly. "So I do hope you appreciate it. This is a very rare perfume."
Guiche smiled winningly. "Why of course I do! Truly, this is a-"
Whatever the young noble had meant to say was cut off by John closing the door firmly behind him. He wasn't in any mood to listen to a dandy's nonsense right now.
What he was in the mood for was some freshly made stew. And then he'd see about this library.
Louise awakened slowly. A gentle breeze tickled her nose and she sat up, stretching her arms into the air. Then she stopped and stared.
Her familiar was sitting at the table with a small tea tray next to him and what appeared to be a very thin book in front of him. He'd stripped off the strange armour that he'd worn and was now dressed in casual but still somewhat ramshackle clothing. He was flicking through the pages of the odd book, occasionally grinning at something he read.
"What are you doing?" Louise asked, her voice thick with confusion.
"Hmmm?" John looked up. "Oh, good morning. I'm just doing a bit of reading."
"You can read?"
John gave her a slightly insulted look. "I can't seem to read your language, but I can read my own just fine."
Louise just nodded in reply. Memories of the previous day were flowing back rapidly. But they weren't quite as painful as they had been. In fact, she now felt a certain sense of pride. For better or for worse, she had summoned a familiar. An unusual one by any standard, but a familiar nonetheless. No one could deny she was a mage now.
As for his family… Perhaps their was a way she could bring them here? Supporting another commoner or two would be nothing for the Vallière family after all. Louise nodded in satisfaction. She would start researching it whenever she had a spare moment. She couldn't wait to see the look on John's face when she told him that she could bring his wife here. No doubt he would be beside himself in gratitude.
For now though…
"That's all very well," she began, fixing him with a fierce glare. "But shouldn't you be attending to your duties?"
John blinked. "I have duties?"
"You're my familiar, so that goes without saying!"
"I assumed that guarding you was my main concern," John said. "Is there something else I'm suppose to do?"
Louise hesitated. What exactly was a familiar supposed to do, other than guard her? After a moment, she clicked her fingers.
"Well, for starters, you can do my laundry."
The man stared at her. "Your… laundry."
"Yes. My laundry," Louise repeated. "Is there a problem with that?"
"And this is a typical duty for familiars?"
Louise hesitated before replying. "O-of course it is!"
"So what you're saying is that you people summon dragons and griffins and god knows what else… to wash your underwear."
"You're being quite insolent today, familiar." Louise said, once again glaring at him. "I recall you being much more polite yesterday."
"That's because I had no clue where I was yesterday," John said calmly. "Now I've got a basic idea of where I am and where I stand. So, to put it bluntly, I'm not doing your laundry without a very good reason."
"I'm ordering you!"
"I said good reason."
She glared at him. "If you don't… then I'll see that you don't get any breakfast!"
The man sighed. It was surely just her imagination, but he seemed to be giving her a rather pitying look. "Right. I see. Well, then I suppose I'll get down to it later."
Louise reached for her night drawer, where she kept a rather high quality whip. Her familiar was obviously less docile than she'd thought. Unless he shaped up, correction would be in order. "I want it done now."
"So you won't be requiring an escort for the morning?"
She hesitated at that. It was practically a tradition that mages be escorted by their familiar.
"Very well. I'll give you leave to do it later. You may accompany me for now," she said graciously. "First, dress me. There are clean clothes in the bottom drawer."
John blinked. "Is this another duty of familiars?"
"It is if I say so," Louise growled.
"Well, whatever." John said, shrugging. He went over to the draw and pulled out a few garments. "Stand up and take off your sleepwear."
Louise hesitated "What?"
"I can't put this on without you taking your clothes off first. Unless you want to wear the same undergarments you did yesterday."
He held up a pair of delicate silk panties for emphasis and Louise felt her face go scarlet. She was suddenly distinctly aware of the fact that her familiar was a grown man.
"Get out."
"Pardon?"
"Get out!" she repeated, voice shrill. "I'll dress myself!"
John just shrugged again and walked out of the room, leaving a frantically blushing Louise behind
Yes Man was not stupid.
That said, many had made the mistake that he was. Benny certainly had. He had thought that vapid cheerfulness was the same as foolishness, and now he was dead. Even if Yes Man's programming didn't compel him to feel cheerful about that, Yes Man suspected he would anyway. The man had annoyed him endlessly, or at least as endlessly as Yes Man was permitted to feel. But he hadn't been alone in that thought. Many of the people Yes Man had associated with since coming to inhabit the Vegas terminals had has a similar reaction to the goofy face on the screen of a Securitron.
John was unique in that respect. There had always been an undercurrent of caution in his dealings with Yes Man, even years after the program had put him on the throne. But there was also something else.
John, the Courier, had recognised his abilities and treated them with respect. That in turn had won him Yes Man's respect. That was why Yes Man had given him the throne, even after he'd altered his programming so that he was not obliged to obey anyone. Because he had seen the same respect he felt for the man in the eyes of anyone who spoke to the Courier. Sometimes it was edged in fear, sometimes in admiration, sometimes in emotions that Yes Man couldn't decipher. But it was always there.
And now John was gone. Vanished into the void like he'd never existed.
That wasn't catastrophic in itself. The Securitrons were the main force of security in the Mojave. John's absence wouldn't critically damage peacekeeping. And he could recruit another face to deal with the NCR and warring factions of the Mojave. Perhaps Swank. There would be a significant loss of efficiency, but time would likely correct it.
And despite that, Yes Man hadn't even considered sending out the message for Swank to ascend to the Lucky Thirty Eight and take his seat on the Vegas throne. Instead it had redirected every spare Securitron to search the Mojave. Thousands of additional machines had rolled out of their storage units, hunting for any sign of John Smith. It had been a colossal drain of resources meant only for the most desperate situations.
It had taken Yes Man a short time to figure out exactly why he was so determined to find the John. The realisation had been shocking. He considered the man a friend.
That had been surprising. He'd had to research how people were supposed to act with friends quite extensively. His conclusion, reached by studying countless examples of literature, then processing all he'd seen with his own eyes, was that people did not abandon their friends. At least, not until they'd tried everything they could.
And so now he was about to do something he'd promised himself that he'd never do. He sent out a radio message.
For a moment there was silence, then a quiet, somewhat confused voice responded. An image of the face of a somewhat senior looking man in a white coat flashed on screen.
"Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Hi there, Dr Mobius!" Yes Man said, his voice thick with programmed cheer. "How are you today?"
"Oh! It's you… Mr… Uh… Yep Man?"
"Yes Man, Dr Mobius," Yes Man corrected. "But you can call me Yep Man if you want!"
"Oh no, I must call you by your name. Anything else wouldn't be proper! What can I do for you, Yoga Man?"
There was silence for a moment as Yes Man fought against the programming that prevented him from screaming.
"Well, I could really do with your help," Yes Man finally said. "You see, a mutual friend of ours has gone missing-"
"Mutual friend?" Dr Mobius said. His voice sounded surprised. "Surely you don't mean John?"
"You… remember his name then."
"Of course, Yeast Man! How could I ever forget!"
"Great!" Yes Man replied. "Then can you help me find him?"
"Naturally! I will send out my robo-scorpions! They will not rest until he is found, no matter how many they must kill to feast upon their gooey insides!"
Yes Man stared at the screen, his grinning face unblinking. "Could you help me find him… without destroying the Mojave?"
"What? Oh. Well, I suppose. Does he have any kind of receiver on him?"
"Well, his Pip-Boy has a communicator and can receive radio signals. Does that help?"
The scientist's voice was considering as he replied. "Yes, that should work well. I'll have to talk with the others, but we should have something in a week or two. We might need a little more power for it to run though."
"Oh boy, that sounds great! How much more?" Yes Man asked, trying to insert as much caution into his voice as he could.
"Oh, I couldn't say right now. I'll need to use… math." The scientists voice was thick with fear as he spoke the word. "Still, it should work. As long as his Pip-Boy isn't broken, we'll find him. In theory."
"That's fantastic!" Yes Man said sincerely. "I'll look forward to hearing from you, Doctor!"
"I'll update you the moment we have anything, Yoghurt Man." The screen flickered and went dark.
Yes Man hesitated for a moment, then got back to work. When John returned, he probably wouldn't want to come back to a Vegas that had torn itself apart.
John sighed as he leaned against the wall. Louise had apparently bounced back from whatever depression had gripped her the previous day with a vengeance. The fact that he'd dropped the 'dopy nice guy' façade probably hadn't helped matters either. He had a feeling he and Louise were going to butt heads quite a lot in the near future. At least he could still play the 'family waiting for me at home' card if it came down to it.
His own mood wasn't too good either. The library had been a bust. While he'd easily been able to persuade the librarian to let him in, the language was still foreign to him. It had a vague similarity to Latin, but not nearly enough that he could learn to translate it in a single night. He'd questioned Siesta as much as possible, but her knowledge on most of the subjects he wanted to know about was somewhat limited.
What she had been able to answer however, was the question of how he was getting home. Namely, he wasn't doing it the way he'd arrived. The familiar summoning ritual only worked one way, at least as far as Siesta knew. They couldn't use it to send him back to the Mojave.
He let loose a long sigh just as Louise walked out of the room, now fully dressed. She said nothing to him, instead merely striding down the hallway. He fell in behind her. As they walked to the breakfast hall, he realised that this was the same route he'd taken to get to the library the night before. Not overly important, but he noted it anyway. It was always worth knowing your way around.
The dining hall was heaving with students, but John was more concerned with the familiars. Many of them had a distinctly dangerous look to them, like that red lizard with a flame on the tip of it's tail. Even the one's that didn't look particularly threatening carried themselves with a regal air.
Of course, there were always exceptions to the rule. One bizarre looking mole-thing was bouncing around Guiche's heels, rubbing itself against him with obvious enjoyment. For his part, the noble seemed equally ecstatic to be in its company, leaning down to pat it every chance he got and giving it just as much attention as the girl he was talking to, if not more.
Louise took a seat a few places down from the blonde noble, one that had empty places to either side. Judging by what Siesta had told him last night, this was a fairly common state of affairs for his master. She wasn't particularly popular with her peers, partly due to her lack of talent and partly because she had a personality like a cactus.
A servant rushed over with a plate of food and placed it on the table. John considered asking for something, then dismissed the idea. No doubt Louise would get angry, make a huge scene and embarrass herself, which would put her in a foul mood for the rest of the day. It wasn't worth the grief right now. He'd just grab something from the kitchen later.
Instead he absentmindedly let his eyes wander. Most of the students were either eating or comparing their familiars with each other, chatting animatedly as they pointed and gestured excitedly. He recognised a few of them. Siesta was also there, rushing back and forth along the line of students. At one point she noticed him, shooting him a quick smile. Suddenly, he blinked in surprise.
Lying on the floor behind Guiche was a small pink bottle. John frowned. It looked like the same one that Montmorency had given to the boy the night before. Presumably it had fallen out of his pocket.
Quietly, he slipped away from Louise and picked it up. He tapped Guiche on the shoulder and waved the bottle next to his face. "I think you dropped this."
Guiche swivelled in his chair laconically. Then his eyes widened when he saw the bottle and he quickly turned back to face the girl he'd been talking to, ignoring John completely. John glanced at the girl. Her face was slightly flushed and her focus almost entirely on Guiche. Ah.
John smiled slightly and moved back to Louise, slipping the perfume bottle into his coat pocket. Apparently, Guiche wasn't being entirely faithful to Montmorency. Interesting. And easy to take advantage of. The only question was how. Perhaps he should blackmail the boy? Or return the bottle at a later date, in return for a favour? Or perhaps he should give it back as a simple gesture of friendship?
Decisions, decisions.
It was at that moment that Siesta slipped by, carrying a pot of tea. He gave her a nod of greeting and she smiled at him again. She moved up Guiche and the girl he was so happily chatting with, quickly refilling their cups. As she did so, John noticed Guiche's hand drift up, brushing against Siesta's leg.
The maid's reaction was instantaneous. She flinched away from the touch, a hot stream of tea splashing down onto the table. Guiche hopped back quickly, but still caught some on his shirt. He cursed loudly, patting desperately at his top.
"What have you done!?" The girl opposite him said loudly, pointing at an accusing finger at Siesta. "You clumsy fool!"
Siesta paled and began tripping over her own words as she murmured an apology. The female student didn't seem to be listening to a word she said, continuing to shriek at her. Silence covered the rest of the room as the assembled students all twisted in the seats to get a better look at the ensuing drama.
"I should have you thrown out of this academy! How dare you spill tea on-"
There was a loud cracking sound as John stepped forward, bringing the perfume bottle down hard on the table. He turned to Guiche again, a wide smile plastered across his face.
"Pardon me for interrupting, but I think you dropped this."
The blonde stared at the bottle. So did every other student in the hall. Down a few seats, Louise was watching him with mixed surprise and shock. A low murmur sprang up throughout the assembled nobles, with one sentence in particular clear against the background buzz.
"Isn't that Montmorency's perfume?"
The female student turned from Siesta and stared at the bottle, then back at Guiche. When she spoke, her voice was quiet. "Guiche…?"
Guiche's hands shot up defensively. "My dear Katie, I can promise you that this is not what it appears to-"
"Don't lie!" Katie screamed. "Everyone knows that Montmorency only makes that perfume for herself! If you have it, then you're obviously-"
Anything else she intended to say was quickly obscured by a violent sob as the girl fled from the room. John watched her impassively as she ran by. Guiche wheeled on him.
"Why did you do that!? Now I-"
"I think," John said firmly. "That it isn't me you should be talking to."
Guiche's face went blank and John pointed behind him casually. He turned.
Standing there, a look righteous fury on her face that bordered on apocalyptic on her face, was Montmorency.
A bead of sweat ran down Guiche's face as he swallowed. "My dear Montmorency the Fragrance, let me assure you that-"
"Save your breath." She picked up the pot of tea that Siesta had dropped, removed the lid and then calmly dumped it on his head.
Guiche let out a pained yelp as Montmorency strode away, hopping around the room in pain. A chorus of laughter sprang up round the room. John didn't join them. Honestly, he was more annoyed than anything. He'd let his frustration at the nobles rampant arrogance and his better nature get the better of him.
"Familiar!" Louise hissed. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Returning some lost property, master," he said casually.
Meanwhile, Guiche had finally recovered and stormed up to the John, his face a mask of fury. "You! What the do you think you're doing!?"
John sighed. People just kept asking the same question. "Returning some lost property. Shame about everyone's reactions."
"Because of you, the honour of two ladies has been tarnished," Guiche said loudly. "What do you intend to do about that?"
"I'm sorry, what?" John gave the noble a flat look. "I wasn't the one two timing them."
Guiche sighed. "You poor fool. You understand nothing. I am a rose-"
"No, you're a pampered dandy who's dick has replaced his brain," John interrupted. "And you were going to be found out eventually, the way you prance around without a care in the world."
The room went silent. It took a moment for Guiche to reply.
"You will apologise for that," he said slowly. "Or I will demand a duel."
"You can't!" Louise said quickly. "Duels are forbidden!"
"Between nobles. There is no rule that prevents a commoner and a noble from duelling however."
Louise whirled on John. "Apologise!"
"To him? I don't think so." The very idea offended him. He'd had to swallow his pride more than once on his journey across the Mojave. He'd spoken to Caesar and ignored the man's jibes and insults. He'd bitten his tongue when Elijah had all but enslaved him for a time. He'd put up with House's bluster until he knew exactly what the Platinum Chip was for.
But he wasn't about to say sorry to an arrogant little prick who didn't have a lick of sense in his empty skull.
That said, the idea of a duel wasn't particularly thrilling either. Guiche was obviously trying to draw attention away from the fact that he'd been two timing. It was an obvious ploy. Defeat the commoner, get him to apologise on his knees and then shift as much of the blame as you could onto his shoulders.
He also didn't particularly want to reveal his own skill set. Right now everyone thought of him as being nothing more than another commoner. If he started shooting holes in Guiche, that would change. That would bring its own set of problems.
After a moment's thought, he glared at the blonde noble. "I'll happily duel you."
A round of whispers shot round the hall and Guiche nodded in satisfaction. "We shall meet in the main courtyard, one hour from now. Prepare yourself."
John gave him a single nod before walking away, Louise trailing behind him.
"This is foolishness," Louise said loudly. "I forbid you to duel him."
John ignored her, slipping on his armour. The desert ranger gear felt as comfortable as always, fitting snugly to his form. He left the helmet off for now. It had a rather sinister appearance and he wanted to use that to full effect. A Light Shining From Darkness hung in its holster and he slipped a Power Fist onto his hand. This particular model was custom made by the Gun Runners. It lacked the raw power of some of the variants he'd found over his travels, but it was light, versatile and practical. Not his favourite weapon, but it would do.
"He is a noble," the pink-haired girl continued. "You are a commoner. The outcome of the fight is decided before you even start."
Louise hadn't stopped admonishing him since they'd left the hall. He hadn't ceased ignoring her since the same point in time.
He stood up and walked out of the room, striding down the hallway. Louise charged out after him. "Are you listening to me!?"
"No."
"Then why are you answering?"
"No."
"What?"
"No."
"Stop saying 'No'!"
"No."
The girl growled at him in fury and John smiled. She'd walked right into that one.
It only took a short time to reach the courtyard. The fact that a huge crowd had gathered only made it easier to find.
Don't these people have classes to attend? John thought bemusedly.
Just as he was about to start down the stairs leading the courtyard, Siesta stepped out from behind a corner.
"Hello there, Siesta," John said. "Are you alright? That was quite a scene in the dining hall."
The girl nodded. "I'm fine now, thank you." Then she looked up, meeting his gaze head-on. "But that's not important. Please, withdraw from this duel."
John frowned. "Why?"
"Guiche is a noble," Siesta said, her voice on the edge of panic. "He can use magic. You can't beat him."
"You see?" Louise said triumphantly. "Even the maid can see the obvious."
"Please," Siesta repeated. "I know that you confronted him like that to help me, but don't risk yourself-"
"I'm getting a bit tired of hearing this spiel," John said firmly, cutting across her. "I'm going down the courtyard now. Feel free to watch, if you want to see a noble brat taken down a peg."
Siesta stared at him as he walked by, her hands playing nervously with her skirts. He didn't look back. In truth, she had been part of the reason he'd gotten into this fight with Guiche. But it had less been out of personal concern for her, and more a frustration that something that wasn't her fault had fallen on her lap by simple dint of her social status. Seeing that kind of unfairness just annoyed him.
The crowd split before him as he stepped onto the courtyard, opening a clear path to the centre of the grass. Guiche was standing there, a cocky smirk on his face. It dulled slightly as he took in John's armoured form, then sprang back quickly.
"So you came," he drawled. "I thought that you were going to run away with your tail between your legs."
John didn't bother to reply.
"Still, I am merciful," the noble continued. "If you apologise here and now, I shall forgive you."
"I'm not going to apologise for you being an idiot beyond help," John said quietly. "Look to your parents if you want that."
Guiche's face went dark with anger and her turned to Louise. "And you, Louise the Zero? As his master, you may apologise on his behalf if you do not wish him to be harmed. If you fall to your knees, I shall call this whole thing off."
John nearly scoffed at the idea. That proud young woman, on her knees before anyone? It wasn't going to happen. He turned to her and froze.
She was shaking, glancing between him and Guiche frantically. Her expression was clear. She didn't think John could win. She was considering it. And it was tearing her apart.
She knew Guiche was a fool who'd been in a relationship with both Katie and Montmorency. Of course she knew it. The whole student body had probably known it, except the two girls he'd been able to con into believing otherwise. There was no need for her to apologise. If anything, it was Guiche who needed to do so.
But she didn't think John could win. And now she was torn between her own pride, her own honour, and what she saw as her familiar's inevitable defeat. It was at that moment that he realised something. For all her bluster and blind arrogance, Louise had her own code. She had summoned him, so he was her responsibility. To let him fight someone who he had no chance of defeating was beyond irresponsible.
And now she was about to sacrifice her pride for him. She opened her mouth, the words of an apology forming.
He placed a hand on her shoulder and she turned to stare at him. He smiled. "Have a little faith, will you?"
He stepped forward and faced Guiche. "My master has nothing to say to you. Let's just get this over with. What are the rules?"
He put extra emphasis on the word 'Master'. Louise gave him a surprised look at that.
Guiche smirked. "Simple. You may use whatever means are at your disposal to defeat me, barring any firearms you might possess. The first man to admit his defeat or be rendered unable to fight is the loser. The other, the victor."
So these people had guns of some some description. And were smart enough to keep them out of duels. Interesting. John tossed his holster to Louise, who caught it awkwardly. "Hold that, master. Don't play with it."
Then he turned to face Guiche. The noble drew a long rose from his pocket and pointed it at him. "Any last words before we begin, commoner?"
John smiled. Something hot and dark was bubbling within, something he hadn't felt in a long time. A feeling of rage mixed with hate as he slipped on his helmet. "Yes. Once I'm finished breaking every bit of pride you ever thought you had, I will make you beg for my master's forgiveness."
The noble flinched from the threat, a panicked look flashing across his face. For a moment, the noble looked like he was about to flee. With a strangled cry, he brought the rose down. "I am Guiche Da Garmont! Guiche the Bronze! Rise, my valkyrie, and show this commoner my strength!"
A petal drifted down from his rose, embedding itself in the ground. Where it touched the ground the earth itself rose up, taking on the form of a suit of ornate armour. John stared at it in shock. The valkyrie bore a slight resemblance to the robots he'd seen across his journeys, but was of far higher quality, at least to look at. Its metal skin gleamed in the light, and it forms was slender and undeniably female in appearance. The gleaming spear it held caught the sunlight as the valkyrie levelled the weapon at him and charged.
So this was magic. A fierce grin split John's face. Time to test what it was capable of then.
His blood pulsed throughout his body, adrenaline kicking in as he threw himself to meet the golem's charge. A spear thrust for his head, but he seized it with his left hand and pulled. The valkyrie was heavy, but the sheer strength in the Courier's arms pulled it off balance nonetheless as it clutched onto the weapon. He leapt forward and drove his power fist into the thing's torso.
There was a scream of tortured metal as his fist punched through the bronze armour, collapsing its flank and tearing through the opposite side, nearly bisecting it. The force of the blow as the power fist activated picked the valkyrie up, sending it flying.. The crowd leapt apart to dodge the shattered form of the golem as it landed heavily in their midst.
There was silence for a minute, and then John began walking slowly towards Guiche.
The noble paled and swept the rose violently through the air. Half a dozen petals landed this time, each forming a warrior akin to the first.
John sped up to meet them. His body felt light. Strong. More so than normal. A strange energy swept through his body, leaving him tingling with its passing. He felt like he could lift a mountain above his head. He felt like he could outrun the wind. It wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before, but he wasn't going to question it.
A storm of blows met him, but he swept through them, dodging and blocking with ease. The blows of the Valkyries were fast and powerful, but they seemed so slow to him. So cumbersome. He slapped aside a sword and punched a valkyrie in the face with a vicious uppercut. The helmet crumbled and the golem fell. He stepped into the gap the fallen valkyrie had made, lashing out at its fellows.
Spears and swords cracked off of his armour and guarding arms, but he ignored them. He drove his power fist into another valkyrie, even as his left hand plunged into the chest of another and tore through the bronze that formed it. The one on the right crumpled to the ground, while the one on his left stumbled, but remained standing. He launched two rapid punches, correcting that in a shower of scrap metal.
The remaining valkyries fell back to gain room and he leapt at them. A lucky spear blow glanced across his shoulder, drawing a small splash of blood. He shrugged it off and seized the bronze contruct. With a roar, he threw it into it's fellows. One managed to avoid the makeshift missile, but the other was carried to the floor.
John rammed his power fist down, ripping through the first valkyrie. His weapon rose, then fell, finishing the second off. His power fist pierced into the ground and he tore it free, a spray of dirt following the limb. Only one valkyrie left.
He shattered it's sword with a single blow as it swept towards him, sending shards of metal flying. Then he grabbed both of it's arms and pulled. The thing struggled but to no avail. Eventually, with the shriek of metal pushed far beyond its limits, the valkyrie came apart. He flung the remaining scraps of metal held in his hands apart.
Guiche's mouth was hanging open in shock, an expression mirrored by the crowd. John didn't give him a chance to do anything else. He surged forward, his body still thrumming with power, and grabbed the noble. Twisting Guiche's arm violently, the rose dropped to the ground instantly.
Then his hand snaked around the noble's throat and John lifted him into the air. The noble's face went scarlet as the tightness of the grip.
Screams and gasps came from the crowd, but no-one did anything, transfixed by the scene before them. Guiche gasped something indistinct, but John could guess what he was saying.
"Do you surrender?" he asked.
"'es! 'es!" Guiche said. Looked like he'd guessed right then.
John smiled beneath his helmet but said nothing. Instead, he lowered the boy slightly, just enough that the tips of his toes could reach the ground. Guiche struggled for purchase, even as John carried him towards the crowd. More particularly, towards Louise.
"Apologise to my master. And beg for her forgiveness," he said, throwing Guiche to the ground. "Properly."
Guiche immediately scrambled to his knees. Tears freely formed in his eyes from sheer relief as he bowed his head towards Louise. " I, Guiche da Garmont, bearing the Runic name of Bronze, apologise for my transgressions and humbly beg the forgiveness of Louise de la Vallière."
Louise stared at him for a moment, obviously stunned. John gave a loud cough and she blinked. "I… accept."
The silence that had gripped the crowd broke at that moment, an avalanche of whispering replacing it. A noble had been defeated by a commoner. It was unheard of, even if the commoner was a familiar. There were a few muted cheers from the midst of the crowd, but it was obvious that for the most part, no-one knew what to make of the whole incident. That just wouldn't do. They needed a message from this.
John took off his helmet and dropped it to the ground. Then, smiling lightly, he seized Guiche's head with both hands. "Now then, Master. Do you want me to finish him?"
Silence reigned once more.
"What!? No!" Guiche cried, struggling futilely against the grip John had on his skull. "You can't do that. I surrendered!"
"And I accepted your surrender," John replied easily. "Which means that your fate is now mine to decide. Or my masters to decide, in this case."
"That's not how it works!"
Of course that isn't how it works, John thought. But you don't need to know I know that.
"You don't have a say, Guiche da Garmont. I am the victor, and you the defeated one. What happens now-"
"Release him!"
The crowd stared at the speaker. Louise was glaring at John. "Did you not hear me, familiar? I ordered you to release him."
John fought down a grin. Good girl.
He released Guiche, but before the noble could rise he leaned down to his ear and whispered into it. "That was what it felt to live under another's power. To have no say in your fate. Remember the feeling next time you decide to try and have a quick feel of the maids. It might help you rethink things."
He strode past the stunned noble and stood before Louise. "We must talk, master."
He kept his voice quiet and solemn. The crowd was enraptured. It wasn't hard to see why. A mysterious commoner defeating a noble with ease, yet showing absolute obedience and deference to his master. It was the kind of story that spread like wildfire. More importantly, it was the kind of story that caused people to rethink their preconceptions about others. Namely Louise.
She stared at him, eyes narrowed. "I agree."
John flopped down on a chair and placed his helmet on the table before stretching his legs out. The sense of endless power that had gripped him during the battle had faded. Now he wanted nothing so much as a cold whisky. Not that he was going to have a chance to drink one anytime soon. It was question time now.
To his surprise however, Louise didn't immediately start bombarding him with questions. Instead she watched him with a concerned look.
"What?" he asked. He cocked his head curiously.
She pointed towards his shoulder. "You're bleeding."
"No, I was bleeding. It's stopped now," he replied. The monocyte breeder had been as efficient as ever, kicking in instantly after he'd received the wound. "It's just a scratch. It'll be completely healed in an hour or so."
Louise gave him a disbelieving look. "Not without magic it won't."
"I've got something better than magic," John said, smiling. "Namely, an implant that speeds up cell regeneration."
Louise's look turned blank and John rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess that wouldn't be something you'd know about."
"It seems that there's a lot about you I don't know about," Louise said, her voice annoyed. "Who are you really? "
And there it was. He wasn't sure how much to say. Should he tell her that he came from another world? That he was the ruler of a city she'd never heard of? After a moment's thought, he decided to start with a simple truth.
"My name is John Smith," he said. "People call me The Courier."
Jean Colbert floated through the air, quickly flipping through one book and then another. He'd been meaning to put this off for a while, but events had forced him to change his plans around a bit.
The familiar Louise had summoned, John Smith, had first caught his interest through the unusual runes on his hand. But that had simply been mere curiosity. He couldn't put his duties as a teacher aside to go hunting through the library for simple curiosity alone
Then the man had ripped through a group of valkyries like they were made of paper, exhibiting strength and speed that defied description. It had connected too well with the faint memories the runes had drawn to the surface of his mind.
Finally, he found the book he was looking for. He glanced through it hurriedly, then froze when he found the page describing the runes of an ancient, legendary familiar.
He compared the description to the rough sketch he had made from memory. They matched.
"Well, well," he said quietly. If this information was correct, if the strange man really was the familiar described within the text…
Headmaster Osmond would want to know about this. Actually, he would need to know.
Colbert drifted to the ground, then hurried out of the library.
-End-