"Chapter 4: Settling In"
"What, are you quitting too?" Logos couldn't keep the annoyance from lacing his voice as another head poked it's way around the door-frame to look into the little station he had set up for himself down in the oscillo-finder room. He had a lot to go over and rearrange, since unlike the time he kept things running when Leblanc was indisposed, he had lost a lot of valuable resources. Namely, people.
As Ormi had said, the Logos Syndicate sucked...although Logos wouldn't word it that way. Still, the truth remained. Apparently nobody wanted to work for him, or anyone else if it wasn't their old feisty leader. It took a couple days for them to snap from the initial shock and tell him, but many just couldn't continue on without Leblanc. If she was moving on, so would they, and off they left to seek a home and work elsewhere. Good riddance, he had thought at first. They didn't really need as many Goons as they had kept around. The only reason the Goon population was so bloated was because Leblanc took in any Al Bhed missing Home, and any solider without a clue.
But more and more left. Soon, the basement echoed lonely and hollow without the occasional and inevitable shuffle of many present bodies. It was a hard blow. It seemed Logos wasn't enough to keep anyone around, and for this he sneered at the pale face that entered the oscillo-finder room.
"Don't worry, you haven't got rid of me yet," Her dreary voice intoned as she waltzed behind him and stared over his shoulder, much to his discomfort.
Erie had finally stopped crying constantly, much to the gunner's relief. Logos was almost convinced that she couldn't have been more upset by Leblanc's absence if she had actually died, instead of leaving them for greener pastures. Logos could understand her devastation, maybe even a sense of betrayal at her having left so suddenly, but it didn't make things easier between them these past few days. Not that he had an easy time working with her before. Her dull voice and clumsiness left much to be desired as a subordinate, and what's worse, and this he blames on Ormi, she picked up a habit of mocking him every chance she got.
And then there was Ormi. At first, his friend had searched for something to do for lack of them since Logos wasn't going to entrust him with tasks that he had done as second in command (which reasonably Ormi should pick up being the new second in command). Ormi didn't have many tasks and duties before, being third-in-command, but what little he did have to do before he seemed happy to ignore lately despite Logos's demands he get back to them.
Instead, Ormi took to comforting the poor Goons that felt Leblanc's loss deeply, and of course, engaging in the occasional conversation about his brilliant observations of Logos's feelings. This Logos was growing increasingly tired of. He had admitted to his friend in confidence what his true feelings of their leader were, although he wasn't entirely sure of them himself yet. However, now it seemed all the Goons left behind knew about it. Decreasing population or not, Logos wasn't happy being talked about amongst them.
"Aw Logos, they already knew!" Ormi had tried to pass it off, but Logos thought differently. If they did already 'know' (which how can they know if he doesn't entirely know himself?) than Ormi was still to blame in encouraging their insolence. The bulky warrior had openly praised the Goons for some of their snarky remarks, and Logos in this difficult time was not appreciating that.
"Mind moving?" Logos finally said, feeling as much irritation for the girl as he would his old partner. Usually, the gunner wouldn't mind a female leaning from behind him, but this wisp of girl was scheming with Ormi to torment him, he just knew it. Ormi and her had particularly bonded over the past couple of days, mostly because the warrior would openly shout at Logos in her defense. Now, they were often seen whispering to each other and poking fun at Logos in turns.
Much to his annoyance.
"What? Am I bothering you?" Came the reply.
"Yes, you are." Logos clenched his fists. What would it take to get some respect around here again?
Logos scoffed down at the sphere oscillo-finder when she rolled her eyes and left, mumbling something about just wanting to know how it all worked.
It being the new system they were trying out to improve their prospects in sphere hunting.
Currently, Taji the Goon was skipping his front door guard duties to sit in the niche he found up above in the loft like railing that ran along the sides of the room. Logos allowed it, this once, since he was at least making himself useful. More junk, or what was claimed to be junk, was locked up in boxes, old bags, and chests in the 'loft' and Taji had made himself comfortable among them as he shaped more round sky blue 'H.E.A.R.T.s.'
There were six H.E.A.R.T. s, only two sitting beside Logos back in the storage room on a crate. The lights danced on his face as the oscillo finder clicked and whirred, bringing his eyes back around to the screen.
What was that sir? Nago, an inspiring Sphere-hunter working as a Mr. Goon, represented as a red triangle in the swards of grassland in the Calm Lands, stopped to inquire about what he thought he heard over the radio.
"Nothing," Logos tapped the round surface of the computer and it zoomed in on the triangle for a brief moment, before rushing ahead, orange lines over the simulated but hopefully accurate turf zooming past. A blinking circle came into view and the view stabilized.
"Abbbooout-" The gunner hummed a little in his throat, calculating, before sending a picture and distance estimations to Nago via the H.E.A.R.T. "-Two hundred feet at a 76 degree angle from where you stand," Logos finished sending the map cutout through H.E.A.R.T. and sighed a little as Nago chimed, "~Got it, L-man!"
H.E.A.R.T. was an invention, or rather reinvention, of the little Al Bhed Gullwings' Commsphere. A while ago, the Gullwings set up a Commsphere out in front of the Guado bridge before the mess with Vegnagun really heated up. Taji, guarding the door, resisted touching the shiny mechanism in front of his face for as long as his sticky Al Bhed fingers could before he disconnected it himself and slipped away with his prize. He examined it, studied it, admired it, complemented it, and then promptly annihilated it with a screwdriver. Through many mishaps and tests, he finally came to produce the invention in Nago's hand.
H.E.A.R.T. stood for Holographic Echo And Receivable Telecommunictor. As the name suggests it was the gadget that could send holographic images from the oscillo-finder to the person on the sphere hunting mission and send back images from the H.E.A.R.T. apparatus if any problems arose. Echo stood for the function it had in using a form of echo location in dark caves to produce a glowing picture on the H.E.A.R.T. screen of where and what was in front, side, and behind the H.E.A.R.T. device. It even had a heat sensor and the detailed shape of what may be a fiend or person around the individual so holding the contraption. AND was easy enough to understand, and Logos just figured Taji was determined to spell out the word heart with it. While, Receivable was within itself was also easy to comprehend. It could receive whatever information was sent its way: calculations, messages, data on legendary guard beasts, or even what they were having for dinner that night as Logos, or rather the 'Boss', had the option of adding extra info and sending it through the H.E.A.R.T system. Telecommunictor was also easy to understand as one worked at the main computer, that being the oscillo-finder, and communication was set visually and in the written sense. Vocal was still being sent through the radio and ear-mouth sets as the video with sound and optics, another function on H.E.A.R.T. that Taji tried to add, lagged horribly and couldn't suit their needs.
Nago, the Mr. Goon in charge of leading the little expedition of retrieving this particular sphere, held the H.E.A.R.T. apparatus tightly in his hand. Blue, cold, and round, fitting right inside his palm, he saw the digits come up on the small screen, verifying what the 'Boss' had sent through.
"We'll have to dig a bit," Nago nodded and then turned behind him to look at the Goons of different ranks, so long as it was not above his own, and gave a sharp order to move forward.
If Leblanc could see how they slaved away now, then she might have been impressed. The new technology that Taji wanted to test in the Thunder Plains was working great, and making their jobs all the more quicker and easier without them having to run into other less advanced sphere-hunters. And with the Gullwings only occasionally showing up nowadays, they were collecting quite a few.
Daji walked in with a tired look and coffee in his hand. He had never been one for drinking the liquid, as it was too bitter to him even sweetened, and too strongly made at Château Leblanc because of sleep deprivation being so common. As it turned out though, the cup was not intended for him.
"Here you go, Logos," Daji held it out, "Coffee, burning hot like you like it."
Logos scanned over the new data coming in, then reached for it without looking. Daji handed the cup into the hand that blindly waited for it and the gunner took a numb sip before placing it on a crate. The teen that had just entered yawned wide before casting a glance up at his twin brother, who worked diligently but just as exhausted as he did.
"Go to sleep if you're tired," Logos frowned and rubbed his eyes from staring at the screen too long. Then, with a slight huff, he went right back to tapping against the the oscillo-finder, rings of faint light dancing away from the tips of his fingers as he did. Even when he was done putting in the commands, leaning back and folding his arms, Logos did not rise from his spot. His lean face, grouchy and tired, was illuminated by the screen as he blankly stared at it.
"What about you?" Daji leaned over his shoulder, "Want to take a break?"
When Logos didn't answer, Daji pursed his lips and blew out his cheeks, making a sound near to a whine before trying again. "Heey~, let's play a card game or something. I've got a new deck that I special ordered to have the hearts look like our insignia." Daji added cheerfully, "You love poker right?"
Our insignia? You mean the Boss's insignia…Logos thought dimly before slurring. "A little busy right now."
Daji's eyes flicked over his unmoving form behind his mask before he gave another huff. He stuck out his tongue to the gunner's back before crossing his arms and stomping one of his feet, "Come on! Take a break already, Squinty. Even the Boss had enough time to gossip with me and let me paint her nails."
Logos took enough time to look over his shoulder at the Al Bhed, a grimace slapped over his lips, "Daji, I'd rather travel to the Far Plane and back again than let you even get near me with any form of makeup."
He turned back to the screen as Nago's initial analysis came in from the sphere. Of course, the sphere would be fully analyzed back at home, but it was good practice for the Mr. Goon to go through the motions of hand analysis. His dream to become a full-fledged sphere hunter one day was obviously encouraged by the Syndicate. Logos flicked over the information, checking the amateur's work.
"It's not a dud," Nago sent a picture though H.E.A.R.T. just for extra measure.
"What's on it?" Logos looked at the data that came up from what he pulled up on the screen, correcting himself with the new information quickly, "Nevermind, it needs to be put through a full analysis before we do. And it appears to be rather old, we might have to clean it up."
"I knew that," Nago pocketed the sphere and pointed back toward the long trip back home.
Logos quickly went over the information Nago sent and checked all his math, labeling, and price ranging. Finding it satisfactory, in other words, perfectly correct, Logos switched panes back to Zizi's mission before pulling up Mara's as well.
"Hey," Erie waved her hand in front of his squinted eyes. She had apparently returned, again mask-less, and had asked a question he hadn't heard. He made a noise in the back of his throat. "Ormi said he needed to talk to you."
"Hanging out with him again, are you?" Logos drawled, a sharp smirk cracking open on his narrow face.
Erie's blackened lips pulled together before she flipped the long pale bang on one side of her face off of her cheek bone. Her many ear piercings, all black and dark steely gray, glinted evilly in the dim light of the oscillo-finder, sending a chill down the gunner's spine as she continued to stare at him unblinkingly, before he finally answered properly.
"Tell him I'll talk to him later. I'm busy."
"You should take a break."
Logos shook his head negatively, "Not likely to happen anytime soon."
"Come on, it could be important. What's the harm in a little break?" Erie tried to say convincingly. When she was ignored again, she slammed her hand on the crate and the resulting vibrations toppled the mug to the floor, where it shattered and coffee splashed against the stone. Erie cursed before hissing, "I'll clean that up."
"Of course you will." Logos didn't even bother to turn his attention away from the mission. He was still trying to figure out this device too after all, and was afraid he'd miss something if he was distracted. All the more to his annoyance that Erie stared up coldly and her pale skin looked ghostly in the glow of the screen out of his peripheral vision.
"I promise to clean this up before you're back," Erie said, picking up a shard of ceramic, "I'll get you a new coffee too, just please, don't ignore Ormi."
Logos was considering it, since he yearned to stretch his legs, but eyeing the screen carefully he wondered again if something would happen while he was away. Not to mention it was a decent distraction...and the only thing Ormi would want talk about is his recent failure and why he should apparently try again.
It wasn't that Logos didn't want to find a way to bring the Boss back, but he had no idea how he would do that. He didn't know anyone in Spira who could make Leblanc do something that she didn't want to do. He doubted he could somehow be the exception. In any case, if he was going to do anything, it would be best to not follow the precedent set by his first failure. Any second chance he got would be his last, for certain, and he should at least give it some thought and gather up some damn courage. Although it was thinking about it so much that made him falter, and any words he planned to say to her stuttered in his mind before coming to a standstill.
Then they got word about Leblanc, gossip at first, but soon affirmed. Logos really was the Boss now, officially, as Leblanc joined the Youth League. Her new employment just clarified to the gunner that she was never coming back to them. Not as their leader anyways. Though, even as the Boss, Logos still slept in the basement with his few possessions as he always had and the cramped space he was accustomed too. Leblanc would always have a room if she wanted it.
Logos shook his head. No, working was his only 'break' he got from this strangely emotional time for the Syndicate, and he'd prefer to stay there a little while longer.
Daji looked at the screen then put a slender hand on the gunner's shoulders, "I'll take care of it for you, Squinty."
He looked at him, like he doubted he was capable of it, and the seventeen year old just closed his eyes gently and tilted his head girlishly to the side, "Who helped invent the H.E.A.R.T. anyways? I got this, Sir."
He finished off with a loose little salute that the girls often did. Logos sighed, then got to his feet.
In the hallway, Ormi was picking dirt from underneath his nails with a short stubby knife that Logos hadn't seen since the Yevon days. Despite that, it was in perfect condition and so sharp it caught a sinister glint off the dim and rare light that was down in the basement. He must have been keeping himself entertained by sharpening it.
"Youse don' have tah work so hard, ya know," Ormi flicked his fingers out and stared at though top of them before balling up his fist.
Logos rolled one shoulder, "What else is there to do?"
"Lots of stuff," Ormi replied vaguely, twirling the knife in his stout digits. He stopped the knife in its circular flight and with a flick in his meaty wrist, he tucked it in his arm band.
"Work is more important," Logos rubbed under his heavy eyes before stifling a yawn. "What about yourself? Don't you have something better to do?"
Ormi shook his head. "Nope."
"I could send you on another mission..." Logos said thoughtfully, running over some data that had come this morning in his head. There was some less promising sphere waves that he had elected to ignore, but perhaps even the chump change would be good. "There's a wave from Gagazet."
"I'm not doing it," Ormi replied flatly.
Logos dropped his hand from where it had been rubbing his chin in thought. His mouth lifted, "Well, if that isn't what you fancy doing, then go play a card game with Daji. The boy is just begging for attention right now."
"Why's don' youse do it?" Ormi swished his hand through the air toward the general direction of his room, "I's jus' got done playin' checkers with the kid."
"I can't." Logos thought of all the work to be done, and this became apparent as his brows knitted slightly. He had nearly forgotten about that one deal that was going to be conducted in a few hours. Expensive sphere too, so maybe he should take that job up himself and-
"Youse been sayin' tha'd a lot, Logos," Ormi interrupted his thoughts, his eyes following the gunner as Logos moved past him and up the slight slope away from the oscillo-finder room. Ormi's booming voice followed his line of sight and echoed behind his friend, "Youse know's youse can depend's on us a lil' bit, Logos. Like the Boss did!"
Logos lifted a lazy hand up in the air, "Oh, yes, I know."
Ormi had the impression that he didn't. Still, he let the issue drop and voiced a different concern, "Youse ain't sleeping much either."
Ormi's chubby face inflated a bit after he watched Logos lean more toward the turn where he'd go up to the living room, instead of his room. "Youse should go get some sleep, ya know? Youse ain't listenin' again, Logos."
"I don't have to listen to you, remember?" Logos heard his footsteps echo in the hall, so lonely sounding with the lack of goons. No fiends stirred nor did anybody waste time roaming anymore as they steered clear from the gunner now that the oscillo-finder always managed to find work for them. If they wanted rest, then they'd be in their own rooms out of sight, and more importantly, out of the gunslinger's sight.
"Youse should think about what the second-in-command has to say, right?" Ormi leaned back, putting his hands on his hips, and waited.
"I suppose," Logos slowed down before going back to his pace and leaving Ormi behind, "But I still can decide against it. Being the 'boss' gives me that privilege."
Ormi heard the door raise and fall as Logos left the basement. Ormi let go of an agitated grumble before hearing the door of the oscillo-finder room loudly creak on its great metal hinges behind him. He turned his wide set head on his neck down the little slope to see the door open revealing the bit of dull light inside.
Erie's pale platinum head came out as she gripped tightly the shards of a coffee cup in her hand.
"Youse coulda got a broom," Ormi flinched inwardly at the dark blood against her pale skin as she grasped the broken pieces. There wasn't much blood, and he certainly wasn't finicky about something like that, but how she seemed to not notice it at all was disconcerting.
Erie didn't reply, instead she stared up the way of the ramp, "He went upstairs didn't he?"
"Yep," Ormi let out a ragged sigh, worry lining his voice, not unlike when Leblanc went missing and Logos followed after. "Hhuu, He ain't listenin' to us…"
"He doesn't have to, I guess," Erie shrugged, "We never were in charge of him anyways."
Ormi frowned and his voice rose, "It ain't that! This ain't just some ranking thing! I'm sick 'n tired of ranks. It was all that with Yevon," He spat out his old life bitterly, and shook his head, "No, it ain't like that. Me an' him been buddies since we's were boys. I mean, sure, he don' have to listen to me, but he ought to know I'm jus' trying to help him!"
Erie blinked her forest-green eyes slowly, staring at the second-in-command as intently as a cat. And just like a feline, a fraction of smile opened up on her face, "So, have you come finally up with a plan?"
"A little," Ormi affirmed, before looking at her sideways, "But, I'm going to need help from youse."
Erie blinked before her voice dropped an octave, and she looked down at the mess she clutched in her hands. "Whatever it takes."
She finally seemed to notice the blood, enough accumulating in her palm to send a thin red trail against her wrist and a single drop to lightly plip in the silence of the basement. She frowned, before wiping it on her sleeve and adjusting the shards into her other hand.
"Here, give me that," Ormi pawed the shards out of her sticky hand, patted her shoulder with the other, jolting her body with his strength, before explaining, "I'll take it upstairs. Plan on having another talk with Logos before this day is out. Youse get that cleaned up and I'll tell youse the plan later, okay?"
Her dreary face lighted up, and she finally smiled toothily. She laughed lightly and goonishly saluted, "Yes, sir, Mr. Second-in-Command."
He gave a nod back and set his chin before shambling up the ramp. The door crashed as he quickly let the device shut it recklessly, and without care to it. Erie's face fell, and she gripped the side of her arm nervously.
"Ah!" Leblanc gasped as she felt hands creep up her leather bound sides. Fists ready she turned around and slammed a balled hand into a rock-hard solar plexus.
"Ow," Ruckus feigned pain, flinched a little even, before chuckling deeply. He was the bigger built man that had helped escort her to the elevator the first day, some days ago now, and he turned out to just love bothering her. The leering man did nothing but disgust her.
She had to admit, joining the Youth League was not what she expected. She seemed to have some respect, since her power and previous friendship with the Meyvn Nooj was well-known, but she didn't have any authority. Everyone had to start from the ground up, including her.
She toiled alongside other newly recruited members, men and women she had never met until the day she had joined.
For instance, Hacky, the tall lean one that had accompanied the party to the base as well, materialized beside her now with a displeased look. He, however, did not come alone as he was accompanied by a sweet and sour faced woman, who, as it turned out, was the not a little girl like Leblanc thought she saw that day she joined. Nia, was actually a fresh nineteen year old with a fiery temper, partly because of her youthful appearance and very short stature.
"Don't you have anything better to do than being a pain in the ass?" Nia grated out.
In every group there seemed to be one that many did not like, but did nothing to merit getting completely thrown out, and that was Ruckus for the Youth League. He never seemed to do exactly as he was told, but never deliberately disobeyed a single order. However, he earned his extreme dislike because he enjoyed being a giant pest and tormenting the women constantly. Lucil managed to ward Ruckus off with her authoritativeness and rank amongst the Youth Leaguers, but that was the only one that managed to ward him off. Even Elma had to convince him to stop asking her out on dates and following her around camp in a confrontation that ended in him getting kicked between the legs.
"Hey, hey," Ruckus cooed, and held up his blackened finger tips. His specialty, and usefulness, was in bombs and it showed in his dirty appearance and constant gun powder smell. Both not being anything Leblanc found agreeable. "Little Lady, I was just playing around with Queen here. Nothing more."
Ruckus was also the type of man to give hateful and irritating nicknames to people. Leblanc, although a fan of pet-names herself, added that particular habit to another long list of things she didn't like about her new fellow Youth Leaguer. She received the name 'Queen' as soon as she got there, for her 'uptight-nose in the air attitude'. While, Nia, on the other hand, hated her short height, and being called 'Little Lady' offended her greatly.
Even the guys, like Hacky, couldn't escape the annoying mock-names. Hacky wasn't even his real name, as it once was Hackeriemus, but he was dubbed Hacky after it was known that he was in an unfortunate accident. One that had consisted of his first Youth League mission and a misfired bullet grazing the inside of his thigh and something else between his legs. That's why is full nick name was "Hacky-sack" and 'sack' referred to something much cruder than a child's toy bean bag. Hacky admits he didn't like the name at first but it stuck and even his friends used it now.
Leblanc wasn't going to stand for the names today though.
"Hit the road," Leblanc said in her famous bossy voice.
"Hey, don't be like that," Ruckus purred lightly before Hacky stuck out his long arm.
"She said leave her alone," Hacky had height like Logos, but didn't have the threatening face, or the prickly attitude. He appeared to have the physique the wind could blow over and Ruckus chuckled at his mild voice and pushed his arm away.
"Or what?"
"I'll kick you where the sun don't shine, bub," Nia stepped in for her friend and pointed a delicate finger at Ruckus's chest.
"Heh," Ruckus obviously wasn't afraid of the woman, though scrappy looking as she was. "Why do you always act like you hate me, Little Lady?"
"Oh, Ruckus," Nia batted her long brown eyelashes, "I don't hate you-"
He smiled and leaned back, like he was expecting her to do her next actions, like clockwork. She leaned forward into his grin and growled, "I absolutely loathe you! And let me tell you, that is no act!"
Here, Ruckus let loose a long gust of laughter, and Nia jumped forward to make good her threat, barely restrained by her tall friend. Leblanc considered joining her, since he was clearly in need of lesson on manners, but they all froze when a familiar voice cut through the air.
"Ruckus, I have a job for you." It was deep but smooth, and it made Ruckus, not to mention the rest of them, jolt with how recognizable it was and the how it snuck upon them so suddenly. It didn't take them long to identify it and lay their eyes upon the figure.
"Meyvn Nooj," Hacky saluted quickly and even Nia simmered down and stood at attention. Ruckus was a bit more loose, but obviously ready to receive his orders.
"Yes, Sir," Ruckus saluted, ignored the humorous giggle he heard from Nia's direction, and took the punishment that Nooj thought of for him to do for causing trouble yet again. He wouldn't bother them for some time, Leblanc figured, because it took quite a while to clean all the morning dishes of the entire Youth League.
Nooj watched Ruckus until the troublesome fellow left their company entirely, before turning to Leblanc, "I apologize for him. We're still 'training' him as you can see."
"Hmm, yes I can see that," Leblanc leaned back a little, eyeing the place where Ruckus had stood close by.
"You have patience," The strange compliment from Nooj turned Leblanc's head towards him, "I thought you might've killed him by now."
Many new female members wished nothing more than that to happen, but Leblanc did hold back. She hasn't even sent a shockwave of magic towards him, though she had considered it. And here the Meyvn was praising her restraint. Leblanc smiled as her cheeks heated up.
"Thank you, love. Anything for you."
Nooj returned her smile, and Leblanc inwardly signed. "Leblanc-" Nooj started but was cut off by Lucil's hurried voice.
"Mevyn Nooj," She gave her chest one pound as her heels were brought together, "The meeting is starting."
"Oh, yes," Nooj seemed to look at the tent like it was a tedious chore, "I'm sorry Leblanc, we'll have to finish this some other time."
Her heart fluttered a bit, as well as sunk. She sighed, "Yes, love."
As soon as the crimson back was out of sight, she stared a bit longer at the space it occupied. Her head tilted slightly, eyes hooding gently, but her dreamy state was soon interrupted by two voices squeakily teasing in her ears.
"Meyvn Nooj, I love you so~," Nia breathily moaned and fell back with a dramatic hand put to her head, swooning into Hacky's arms. Hacky's falsetto answer rung awkwardly loud throughout their part of the camp, "KISS me, love!"
Several people stopped in their work and other proceedings to turn their heads towards the trio hanging around the in the corner. Realizing they had an audience, and Leblanc was grinding her teeth, they laughed loudly and Hacky swooped Nia up in a spin, both of them increasing their spirited mockery and their volumes simultaneously.
"Oh Noojie~wooj-MRPH!" Hacky swallowed his next words as Leblanc spotted Nooj curiously looking back at them from the entryway of the tent he had earlier entered, his attention inevitably drawn when the two knuckle-heads continued to carry on so boisterously. Leblanc, face burning bright red, felt the stares all around her, and all less heavy than the amused look Nooj was giving her out of afternoon-tinted glasses. Her outstretched palm slammed into the bottom of her new-comrade's chin as soon as she could reach him, but in her opinion not soon enough.
"OW!" Hacky cried out, dropping Nia mid-spin, who barely caught herself on her feet with a stumble. "I bit my tongue," His voice finally lowered to a decent level, and he stuck out the pink organ to reveal a smidgen of red. Nia was still laughing.
"You two can make fun," Leblanc was on the verge of pouting, and she tilted her soft face to the side. She had let slip the nickname she had for the Meyvn, and the duo found it absolutely hilarious, always bringing it up to embarrass her. And Leblanc, much to her surprise, did find herself blushing furiously as she was now. She hadn't let those syllables slip from her mouth since.
"Don't get fussy," Nia stepped forward and fluffed the ends of Leblanc's hairdo playfully, "We were only joking."
Leblanc sighed, "I know, love." One corner of her plumps lips then lifted in a slanted grin, "But you two are awfully annoying, especially together."
Despite what they looked, Nia and Hacky were not together as a couple, though by the way they both acted they should be. When questioning her roommate about it, for Nia shared the same tent that she did, the shorter one just shrugged, "I don't know, we're just friends Love-Love." When asked if she wanted it to be more, Nia again shrugged lightly, "If it happens it happens"
Leblanc stared at them as they chatted ahead of her. Leaning back and forth and touching each other casually. They both flirted, but they were both perfectly content if they had their own girls and boys to take away their time from each other. Though at the moment, they were single since Nia's boyfriend had been caught (and nearly castrated by Nia's vengeful rusty razor) with another woman, and that said woman was going out with Hacky at the time.
Leblanc couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. If it happens, it happens. If only she could feel so nonchalant about it all like Nia did. She had come here to spend her life with Nooj, and so far, she was just doing grunt work, and continued to yearn for every moment she could spend with him.
Well, at least Nooj appreciated it. She, in turn, cherished the thought that he was glad she was near, doing so much for him. Still, it almost wasn't enough.
Nia swung her elbow into the bony rib of the man walking beside her. Hacky dropped his shoulder a bit, closing into her range, and sweeping Nia off her feet with a bump to her hip and lifted her bodily into the air.
Leblanc rolled her eyes. Did they really have to act that way in front of her? "Get a room, already!"
A/N: Poor Logos and Leblanc. Getting made fun of now. Bullying is bad, ya'll.
Also I'm evil and enjoy every second of writing it. Mwahah!