A backwater desert of a world, dusty, barely habitable and perpetually twilight, this planet was home to ruffians, thieves, black market traders, assassins, sex workers of varying types, gamblers, drunks, and just generally unpleasant people. So when Roda landed inside the dome of Legion City for her first serious job and was advised to carry a gun- she genuinely had no idea what to expect. Whatever this place was, though, she really couldn't have expected it.
In reality, she not only carried two guns and a knife just in case, she also boosted the perception filter on her TARDIS because around here it looked like they'd steal just about anything that wasn't bolted down. And for people like these- getting a time and spaceship would be an absolute nightmare.
Irving Braxiatel had asked her to measure a pub. Very little clarification, very little help. Other than that apparently it belonged to him once, and the dimensions would be needed for him to know where to 'put it-' whatever that meant. Why he wasn't just doing it himself or getting them from the blueprints, Roda didn't have the foggiest.
Glancing up from a screen on the communicator with a handy map, it wasn't hard at all to find what she was looking for. Main Street was a long straight, and the neon signs lighting up the entire front of the establishment certainly made it stick out.
The White Rabbit bar.
Pushing the doors open, this could not be anything less like what Braxiatel owned and lived in where she'd just been. Many, many more neon signs, a sort of combination of middle-ages and western aesthetic- and a lot of broken glass on the floor too. The contrast was stark at best, concerning at worst.
This place was five stars on GalaxyAdvisor- but apparently, only one guy wrote all of the reviews. That made a whole lot of sense now. Basically, nobody would ever suggest this as a lovely tourist destination. Ever.
There was a very tall man who seemed to be mostly legs behind the bar, scrubbing it down after a bad spill. It wasn't particularly full at the moment, and he waved over to her when she could clearly be seen looking for something. At that, Roda gravitated to the counter like a moth to a flame.
"Could I get you anything?" he tempted.
That was a good way to start things off. Obviously, it wasn't the most professional thing to do, but a drink wasn't unwelcome. And there was so much lovely-looking booze behind him it was a genuine miracle nobody had gotten to all of it. Dropping the communicator back in her pocket, Roda grinned.
"Surprise me. But I am here on... business," she implied.
The man's pointed ears twitched and his bright red eyes seemed to flicker as they darted about. Nodding in affirmation, he answered her casually. "Oh, yeah. Irving told me to expect you. Roda, is it? Don't know what he's cooking up."
He took three bottles off the rack behind them and got some ice and a mixer. Pouring the three of them together and adding the ice, he shook it until he felt it was ready. Then he poured out the resulting greenish liquid into a nice, tall glass, sliding it over to her in one smooth motion.
Grinning and showing off a mouth with some large pointed fangs, he winked at her.
"Enjoy."
Then he turned on his heels and made a strange gesture, something sort of theatrical. "Hope that puts a spring in your step."
"Roda. Or Redjay." She took a drink. "This is... good. Better than the cheap wine I've had lately, at least. I hope you weren't expecting more of an explanation from me - I'm a 'need to know' kind of employee." At his dramatic movements, she raised an eyebrow. "And, uh... yeah. Anyway, don't suppose you've got measuring tape back there? I've got a sonic," she added, "-But it's always good to check twice."
"Yes, indeed. I should hope so." He hopped up and strode on his heels, shoes clicking on the rough wooden floor, through a door to the back.
There was a loud ruckus and a yell from somebody else, in the other room that she could hear through the thin walls. "What're you doing? I needed that! That's for the new drinks cabinet- hey! Oww..." There was banging and the other person fell to the floor.
He returned with a long measuring tape and placed it in front of her on the bar, though he still looked a bit confused at the request. "What'd you need this thing for then?"
The door swung open again and another walked out behind Jack, nursing his head. Grumbling, "Who's she?" he shyly asked, from behind his hand and wavy mop of dark hair.
After a sly glance around the bar, everybody seemed to be taking it as read. An average day. Roda shrugged, one eye on the few people around her. After he placed it in front of her, she scooped it up, turning it over to read how long it was. Well, it looked like it would do the job, at least.
"I need the dimensions of this place," she explained, "I figured you'd know more than I do. I take it you're... Jack?" She squinted at the newcomer and chuckled softly. "Or... you are? One of you's Jack. Or I'm at the wrong bar..."
The tall man with the gleaming red eyes bowed, face just beaming at a chance to introduce himself. "Jack McSpringheel at your service, m'lady. Some call me just Jack or Spring-Heeled Jack. You know, Jack be nimble, Jack be quick- that's me. And this is the White Rabbit. That's Diego. And the guy behind you is Toothless Joe. Or Jim. I honestly can't remember."
Jack tried to feign turning his attention back at wiping down the bar, but Diego clearly wasn't thrilled with him. Pretending not to hear a word, he ducked down as if anticipating a flying barstool.
"Pulling that thing out made me fall off into our tools, you think I'm happy?!" Diego ranted in Jack's pointed ear hoping for a response. But none came.
At m'lady, Roda almost choked on her drink, giving Jack a genuine laugh. "Oh, I'm no lady. Think you lose the title when you commit a few hundred crimes." She shook her head, and while in jest, there was a trace of bitterness.
"I hope you aren't expecting my full name. It's got a lot of syllables, and half of it's better off written. More used to being called the Redjay." When she said her name, she did pause a little, as if expecting someone to recognize it. Roda tensed up, and it was clear she was leaning in a way that could react quickly to danger. But when no one seemed to respond, she unwound a little. "Oh. Uh... Bob? He writes the reviews?" Then her eyes fell to Diego, sheepishly. "And uh, sorry. That's my fault. Didn't realise he was going to uh... snatch it?"
Diego seemed a bit less miffed now. "Jack just does that a lot. I- I'm used to it... When he isn't knocking me onto the floor. And he calls every woman that. -And every other guy sir or gentleman. Thinks he's a flirt." He laughed a bit at Jack's embarrassment, then gave him a small shove before exiting back from where he came. There was still groaning in the background, but it was quieter than before.
She nodded along to the explanation and gave a small wave as Diego left, then held up the glass. Roda didn't usually do cocktails. Still not half bad. "Do I get to finish this before I measure the premises, at least?"
He chuckled, then winked. "Of course- what kind of monster would I be if I didn't allow a discerning patron to finish her drink? But... I probably should know what this is all about. Irving told me to expect you, but didn't give anything else. Are we... being demolished? Or getting a big remodel?" he asked, suddenly looking a bit worried.
Roda shook her head, taking another drink. "He said something about 'knowing where to put it'? Why- doesn't he tell you anything either?"
Resting his elbows on it and leaning his very long body on the bar, Jack explained, "I just run this establishment when Irving's gone. Which is always. He owns it, and does with it what he likes. Unfortunately. Didn't even know about the expenses for the karaoke machine until two weeks after he bought it." He continued rambling. "And where to put it? I've no clue..."
Accustomed to letting people talk and taking in whatever could be important from their speech, Roda just let him ramble, mind half-drifting away.
She looked down at the green stuff in her glass. It really was good, whatever it was. She didn't usually have hard drinks other than cheap wine or beer, and though part of her itched to have some more, there was a job to do. A job that would probably take her mind off a few things going on better than the drink would, with considerably less of the headache.
Probably.
Irving Braxiatel was involved, after all. While she'd grown to appreciate his particular brand of sarcasm and mistrust and sneakiness, he'd also most recently suggested her head might be good for a doorstop. And he obviously didn't take her remotely seriously at all. He was probably really just as difficult to get close to as she was, if not more. ...And casually throwing her into situations where she could die violently without a care other than the resulting paperwork didn't really inspire much confidence.
Roda put the glass down and straightened up, stretching out and wincing at an ache that still shot through her body when she moved in a few ways too much. Checking that her weapons were still there, she raised a hand to try and get Jack to stop talking. "That does sound like him. Whatever that was- uh. yeah. Is there alley access? All the way around the place? And is there anyone likely to, well- shoot me if I have to climb on anything to get some measurements?"
Jack waved her off like it was no big deal one way or the other. "It's a bit tight, but there's enough room to get around the entire building. If you need to get some height I can carry you up. I can jump rather high. And, no. People won't shoot you if you're with me." He flashed another toothy grin. She didn't know why, but Roda wouldn't contest him on that.
Roda pulled a face at the suggestion though. "Height- oh... damn. I- probably will need a hand up to the roof, if you don't mind.'
He brushed away her concerns, then cracked the door to the back open. "No trouble, no trouble at all, m'lady. I'll just leave the bar to Diego..." There was more incoherent yelling from behind the door, and Jack chuckled.
She rolled her eyes, laughing again. "Please don't call me a lady. Just Roda'll do. I'm about as ladylike as a sledgehammer."
Jack stepped out from behind the bar and rose to his full height. He was just so tall compared to her (and wearing heels to boot) that she had to tilt her head up at a sharp angle to even meet his eyes. His frankly slightly disturbing eyes. That wasn't to say he couldn't be considered handsome by some tastes, if still a bit unnerving.
Catching the muttered swearing from the back, she elected that it was best to ignore it for now. Tossing the measuring tape up and catching it again, she opened her coat enough to pull a small sonic device off her tool belt.
"Alright, dear Roda. What do you need help with first? I can leap 365 feet vertically and 180 horizontal, so tell me where to go and let's jump into this." He didn't even seem to notice his habitual puns, and it was already wearing a bit thin. That wasn't to say he didn't know it in reality. Jack McSpringheel seemed the sort.
Roda shook her head at him, but nodded towards the door. "I can probably do most of the measuring myself, that's what I'm getting paid for." That, and even if he could jump as much as he said, she'd rather not put someone else in the line of potentially falling off a building. "- But, if you can show me the best way round the building and give me a foot up when I need it..." she added.
But he smiled again, like she was getting into it. "A foot up indeed. And you looked worried for a second there. I assure you a Jack always lands on his feet." He jogged in place a bit, seeming yet slimmer and taller than before, to an extent that should've been unnatural. His long fingers and glowing red eyes seemed more noticeable with this angle of light. "I better bring you out back first..."
At this point she was pretty sure he was messing with her. Or planning on- no.
"So..." Roda started walking in the direction that he was leading, following through the door to the back past the bar and out the other side of the building. Creeping reservations kept her from taking her eyes off him.
The drink wasn't nearly enough to dull her senses, but just in case he became a threat, she wouldn't be telling. It seemed unlikely that Braxiatel would've sent her to get measurements, told her to look for Jack and warned her to bring a gun if he thought this was a good way to get rid of her... but after the few weeks she'd had- including two things that could barely not be considered attempts on her life, it seemed worth thinking about.
No.
She was just overthinking it. "'A Jack'. Tell me a bit about that?"
He nods, "Well, as you know, that's me. And all my brothers and sisters, and father Jacques, and my aunt Jacquelette. We're Kadeptians, you see." He seemed to still be welcoming and affable despite his somewhat unnerving appearance.
"Jack be nimble is about us- specifically me, you know. They thought I terrorized London once- even though they were the ones chasing me. Long story."
"Kadeptians? Not ringing a bell..." She nodded along with his explanation though, then paused for a second at the implication about a Jack causing trouble in London. "Uh... right. Should I be following you into a dark alleyway on an already dangerous planet?"
He shrugged like this was nothing. "Whatever you're femuring is fine to me, you know. You could always leg it."
...He was messing with her.
At the puns, Roda stopped in her tracks. She folded her arms across her chest and groaned. "Femuring. Really? Really, really?" Shaking her head, she started walking again, but still made sure her guns were within reach. Not that Roda wanted to shoot him- nor to explain what she'd done to Braxiatel, who she suspected would just shoot her back- but his reply was far from reassuring.
With the measuring tape in one hand and the sonic device she'd use for more precise details between her index and middle fingers, she stopped at the first wall, then absentmindedly handed Jack one end. "Stand at the end of the wall and hold this flush, will you?"
He nodded cooperatively. "You know as much about this as I do about this strange idea, I suspect. Don't want to drag your feet on this though, Irving is a strange bloke." He then holds the measure precisely at the corner of the wall with a single pointed finger, no effort needed. A pointed finger that seemed to have some sort of silver metal glove on it, interestingly enough.
"He's certainly interesting, yeah."
"Getting through that side is a bit of a squeeze. I do hope you're slim enough to slip through," he pointed. Roda glanced at where she'd have to go, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She'd been in tighter spots, almost certainly. But at the moment she wasn't relishing the fact that this spot would be tight even for her.
"Yeah..." Before she could think better of it she started walking, sizing up the gap between the two buildings, then lining her shoulders up with her hips to make her way through. At least she was flat-chested. Holding the device in her mouth to not drop it, she mumbled through it. "Been in tighter places..."
Jack shouted down the crack as she inched in. "If you get stuck there's plenty of fellows around here that have escape lines. It's needed in a place like this. Tell me and I'll be there faster than you can put out a candle."
"No offence," she half-shouted back through gritted teeth, looking down at her feet, "-Buf if I get stuck in here... hmph- rather just die an hmm- idiotf's death than lef some stranger from mmmh- Legion be in charge of getting me... ouf."
Jack kept impatiently shifting from one foot to the other, hands in the pockets of black skinny jeans. He sighed. "There are people you can trust around here, you know. I know a guy or few. -Could have Peter or Diego loan one out."
Roda did eventually get out, albeit not as quickly as she would've liked. Taking the sonic back into her hand and drying it on her thigh, she took the time to gulp in some fresh air before responding. "I don't trust many people!" she called back, making her way to the other end of the wall, wincing a little bit more than she'd been when she'd started the squeeze. Her bruised and slightly scratched-up skin would not be thanking her later.
"But I appreciate the offer, I guess!" She took back out the communicator, tapping in the measurements. "You can let go of your end, by the way. Got this wall. You wanna..." She grimaced in mild disgust, not even believing she was saying this- "You wanna hop over for the next?"
"I couldn't have thought of anything better myself-" he paused, and she could hear him groan loudly. "Wait. We're such idiots. You could've held onto the tape and I could've gone over top..."
But despite his comment, Jack wound up, scrunching down towards the ground, and released the tension in his legs, flying high into the air and landing on the rooftop.
Of course, he landed on his feet.
Despite herself, genuinely impressed, Roda just stared at the arch of the leap, almost wanting to clap a little as once again he bowed dramatically, gladly drinking in any ounce of praise. "...Maybe you should be the one climbing up on the roof after all... alright. Don't let go of that. I guess we can get the height while you're up there."
Jack smiled down, twiddling the measure in one hand, and scrunching over, pulling it taught. Getting a good glance, he shouts down a measurement. "Twenty-two feet, dear. And yes, I rather hope I'm good at climbing roofs, considering that's most of what I had to do in the old Victorian era. People thought I was a monster out to harass women. Such a silly prospect." He chuckled at the idea.
"Yes..." but Roda squinted up at him again, the reassurances that he wasn't Jack the Ripper becoming increasingly less reassuring. She punched in the numbers for that part, then jerked her head around the corner to get to the next wall, looking for thugs at every move. "So what were you doing on roofs, then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
He rolled his eyes and cocked his head in annoyance. "Mainly running away because my kind apparently share more than a passing resemblance to a Zordin- sorry, Atla... Earth demon. That was its name. And they aren't very welcoming out in that time- well, the time it was based on. It's just speciesist, honestly."
She grimaced at that. Both embarrassed to judge, and a little judgemental of some humans she's heard about, even if he was a bit terrifying to look at at first, the assumptions weren't getting her anywhere. "I've lived on Sol-3. You're not wrong. They're not always great to their own kind, either," she agreed.
But Jack's complaints did seem a bit over-dramatized. He'd probably told this story a million times before. And he also seemed the sort to really enjoy a chase. "Aside from their ludicrous opinions, I did rather like the architecture of that one. Lovely cathedral to bound over. Such great views."
Roda nodded up at him. Victorian London obviously wasn't perfect, but it was a place she'd been meaning to go for a while. "Never been to that time period. Maybe I will, some time? Probably not from the rooftops though." Looking at her communicator, she shouted back, "Is the building a cuboid? Or will I need all four sides?"
He shouted down, "Rectangular! Just one more measurement..."
At least this meant it'd be quick. "Brilliant. Any chimneys?" She tried to look around, but the angle wasn't great.
Nonchalantly, Jack's response wasn't the most reassuring thing. "Technically there should be because there's a disused hearth in the main room, but nobody worries about fire code around here."
Pulling a face, she commented, "Hmm. I feel like Braxiatel will, but that's one less thing to measure, I guess." She rubbed the back of her neck in thought. "You know, usually if I'm measuring a building it's so I can break into it. Not relocate it..." she chuckled.
Jack stared down with an expression of genuine confusion. "What? That's what he's doing? Good lord, we've been here for ages- where?" That wasn't to say he wasn't a combination of interested and concerned, either. "Hope it's no more than a few bounds away. I've been breaking my ankles over this place for ages," he still joked.
"I'm guessing." She shrugged. "I mean, he said where to put it. I'm not exactly in real estate..."
He scrunched up his face, looking for a lost thought. "He did at one point, before we lost touch most of the way, mention planning on moving an entire city into storage..."
"You run the bar for him and you two don't even keep in touch? He must trust you."
"Well, He got up one day and never came back, to the bar itself anyway... Then Benny met him in the middle here about... something- and since then he's had a lot more to worry about. Apparently." Jack sighed. He seemed particularly bitter about that. People liked leaving him, didn't they?
She recognized the name instantly. While she didn't know her for her work, even Roda knew about her, even if it was for a more trivial reason. "Oh, his girlfriend? Not met her, but talked once." Roda waved a hand, "Communicator. Thingy. Hard to explain. The Time Lords," Roda explained, casually glossing over who she was, "...kinda made a big mess. -At least it's easy to talk to people."
Jack's expression turned towards exasperation at the beginning of that ramble, and it sank in. "Girlfriend? Really? Not a joke? Now that is bizarre. Didn't tell me that either. She didn't seem to get on with him for a while down here. But a barkeep and a drunk? Match made in hell, really. Come to think of it, that call was pretty odd."
"Now." He wound up and leapt back down from the ledge, pulling at the tape and getting the final measurement. "Tell that to Irving and actually bring some info back when you can, dear Roda? I hate being out of the loop when it comes to my dear Rabbit." He spoke of it like he owned the place. In most respects at least, though- he probably did. Judging by everything he said about their situation, at least.
Roda chuckled back. "Well, I doubt I'll be in the loop. But I'll tell him you want to know what's going on. How about that?" she attempted to compromise.
She checked her communicator and sent all the specifications over, back to Braxiatel. Asking for comment on his question, the answer to Jack's concerns came back less than complete. Roda shook her head. "Braxiatel just says not to worry about it. You're on your own, I guess."
Jack leapt down off the roof, landing smoothly and making it to the ground beside Roda. Straightening out his jacket, he flashed another smile. His feet finally came into full view, and he was wearing pointed, heeled shoes. He groaned. "I shouldn't have expected anything. We can go back in if you want. Care for another drink, or do you have to go back to Irving right away?"
When she reached her, Roda shook his hand. It was just as heavy as it looked, if not heavier, and the grip was inhumanly strong. She wasn't quite sure what it was. Just a really fancy medieval-looking servo glove, or a whole prosthetic? "Thanks for the help. And I texted him the measurements. I don't think I have to be anywhere, really." Roda looked up at the dusky sky thoughtfully, and then gave a small nod and a shrug. "...You know what, why not. Lead the way."
Jack chuckled. "Diego will be pissed at me again, but hey. Haven't met someone new other than toothless Bob- Bert?- in ages. We're moving... somewhere. He told us not to worry, so I don't think I'll be fired at least." He led the way towards the back entrance, flourishing with his hand and holding the door open as he waved her back inside. Even when he was doing something completely mundane, it always seemed he was bouncing on his feet, too full of energy to sit still for one moment.
"Come on in..."
Roda followed him back in, taking a second to turn off her communicator. There were people that she promised that she wouldn't do anything stupid to. But those people could save getting in touch for a just bit if she was going to keep on drinking. "I wouldn't worry too much. Although, did he make you sign a contract taller than the Eiffel Tower? Clause about not suing him if he tries to kill you?"
Jack's expression turned towards puzzlement and he shook his head. "No? Hiring me was all goodwill. Saved me from a murder attempt, actually. Just like how he took care of Peter for over a year. What in the high heavens has he gotten up to since he ran off?" As they got back to the bar counter he started pulling out more drinks mixes, taking it over from Diego and forcing him into the back again.
"Well," Roda laughed to herself. She leant on the bar again, notably still not taking a seat quite yet. "Like I said, he doesn't tell me anything. But he hasn't got a moustache, at least. And I don't think he'd twirl it if he still had one."
He shook his head and frowned again, starting to pour various bits of alcohol and flavourings together. "Ah... I still don't even know where he went. I mean I heard of this... art museum- from Peter, but apparently, Irving didn't even know much about it himself. I'm not Benny's or Irving's family, so even if I run the bar I'm stuck out of the loop." He finished shaking the cocktail and poured some for Roda, then himself, leaning over the bar. "Bottoms up!"
Roda nodded in understanding. Being even less in the know that Jack, after all, wasn't particularly useful either. So instead of commenting she picked up the glass and held it up to the light. "So what's in this one?" It was bright reddish-pink and thick stuff. Taking a sip, it was sweet and tasted of cherries.
He listed it off. "Draconian brandy, Killoran gin, Ol' Janx Spirit, a sprinkle of elder cream, and maraschino syrup. We call this one the 'Tipsy Turner.' Apparently some reference to it being pink." He shrugged. He took a long drink and sighed. It was one that Ruth had liked, once upon a time. Not that he'd tell Roda all about her right away. That still stung.
She stared at it appreciatively. "Sounds nice, actually. Don't drink many cocktails- but I've got some Ol' Janx Spirit somewhere." Roda paused again as she took a long drink then started rummaging through her pockets. "What do I owe you?"
Another flamboyant wave, then he gave a slight pout. Spinning on his heel again, he stated, "It's free. Unless you wrack up a tab in the triple digits like Summerfield did, it's on the house. Any friend of Irving is a friend of mine. Well, probably. Some of his friends tried to murder him. If that's it, then farewell, my lady." He winked, eyes flickering.
Roda still couldn't help but fall into literal roaring laughter at that comment. It was still ludicrous, even if he was just flirting. "Oh, he's made it quite clear I'm not a friend. Just an employee." Still, she was smiling more than when she arrived. "Thank you, though."
Jack still looked a bit confused about all of this, but after another drink and bit of nagging from Diego, he got back onto cleaning and waved goodbye. Roda gave a little wave as well, finished her drink and then eventually headed out back onto the dusty street and towards her TARDIS.
Not that she knew about it yet, but a little Kadeptian charm really did brighten the mood.
