Konnichiwa! I am not dead! Ha ha. I had about half of this chapter done for the longest time, and I finished it. Sorry it took me so long!
Slades Daughter—Jack and Ethan maybe ring a bell because... um... heck if I know. I just grabbed names I thought would fit. And Joey in one of the Kimonos... maybe I'll have to draw that to show you that it would not be funny, it'd be quite hot. Ha ha, I appreciate the non complaining. I hope this chapter fits your chapter requirements.
ssp—Well, you and everyone else seems to think Seto Kaiba will be at the head of the LEG. Is it that obvious? You and everyone else will find out. Intelligence does matter, however. Society can't be stable if they have dumb people in high power, something the US has yet to figure out, ha ha.
merchante fille—Yeah, Jack and Ethan especially don't care for uptightness. They like living! Har. Well, you won't hear the lecture except in bits and pieces as the story progresses, because I would have bored myself to death writing it.
Writergirl118—Don't worry, Joey won't change if he joins –grin- he'll be with Ethan and Jack! No way can you go straight with those guys.
SirisAnkh—Ooh, cool, I'm happy you're enjoying it. This one has more humor in it, so have fun!
Demonicangel—I did rip off the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, hence the small comment from Joey right after that mentioned it was a movie from way back when. This is people are ripping stuff off from all over the place :).
Cobra Strife—Yes... interesting names indeed. Hope you like the next chapter, buddy :p.Hopefully I will be able to update faster, now that my writing streak has picked up again. Next to be updated is Harmful Crush! Yay.
Chapter 5
"State your full name."
"Joseph William Wheelah." Now... tha' firss thingy theyz gonna ask izfer yer name. Don' use any nicky names, jus say tha whoooole thing, yeah?
"Age and birthdate."
"Seventeen, January 25, 2088." Ah dunno why theyz assssk ya for when you was born buttah think they ask cuz they wanna know if they can clone yaz inta sheep without you knowin' or summthin... I proved dat once, ya know, didn' I Effan?
Joey stood alone, in the middle of the large, overly decorated room; a panel of judges faced him from a long table, seven in all. He felt nervous, not because of the watchful eyes of the men, but because he had a hard time discerning the drunken babble that had been given to him as advice a few nights before.
Be sure da stann lige you gotta porkypine stuggin yer ass!
An' no sudden movvvvvments cuz –hic- tha' mages you loog lige yer nervous and thhhhey hate that.
Joey had been snickering along with them, not truly paying attention, but enough to be able to remember. So I can' jum' aroun' or nuthhhin?
No jumbin no climbin no nuffin. Jack was on the floor, absently scratching the tip of his nose, a shot glass still in his left hand. Ah wanded ta showem mah baggflip but they didn' lemme...
Thas cuz ya wera moron, Jack...
The men shuffled their papers, some writing on them and recording—most of them, Joey noticed, were left handed. "You have no record of your birth facility, we see. You don't know?"
Ahh jeez, ya were born inna reject house thangy? Weeeeere ganna hafta do sumfin about dat, yeah... 'eyyyyy ya know mebbe he cannn get by witit, ahmean loogatim!
Yah ya know Joe... yer hot... iffah were flamin' ah'd go out wit yaz innasecond!
"Everyone knows where they came from," snapped the man in the middle; Joey jumped at his harsh tone of voice and almost wanted to run from the cold glare his blue eyes bored into him. He leaned forward and pointed a slender finger at the blonde. "You must have come from Malheur; I'm sure of it."
"How can you tell? He certainly doesn't look it, and his tests came back nearly perfect. Someone like that could not have come from the Misfits, surely."
"I already did a search on his name, and none of the registered facilities have his birth certificate—"
"The point is, Your Honor, whether or not he came from there matters not; he is obviously a very eligible candidate, with no defects in his genes."
"I won't stand for it!" the head man shouted, pounding a fist on the table. "We're not letting another one of them in!"
"Another one?" Joey asked—as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he had spoken out of turn. "—Your Honor?" he added, cringing slightly.
"That's enough, Christoph," said one to his left. "I think the council is very impressed with this man; surely you can let your biases down for once?"
"He will not join." His voice had dropped to an eerie, threatening whisper. "I won't allow it."
A slight shiver ran through the row of judges, but the one who had just spoken raised his voice again. "If we six are in unison, we override your vote."
Christoph ran a hand through his brown hair, visibly clenching his teeth. "All those in favor," he muttered out. Slowly but surely, five of the six hands went up, a man with a bushy moustache remaining with his arms completely folded. He was giving Joey a piercing stare, sizing him up.
"Who are your parents?" he asked after a length of time.
Christoph's head snapped up to stare at the man. "What kind of nonsense is that, Philander?"
Philander did not respond. He merely stared at Joey, unmoving. "I... I don't know deh names, sir... dey never told me. I only know what dey look like." He looked at the floor, hoping he hadn't royally screwed himself over in some way.
"Tell me."
"Wha?" Joey looked up again at the council.
Again, Philander did not repeat himself. Christoph frowned, visibly trying to control his impatience. "We don't have time for this."
"Bare in mind, young one, I am the only person keeping him from joining at this point," he replied, never once removing his eyes from Joey. "That's what you want, isn't it?"
Christoph opened his mouth in protest, then deciding against it, choosing to instead write on the papers before him, his left hand remaining in a fist beside them.
The blonde was still searching his mind for anything that might prepare him for the correct answer to the odd question, but nothing except drunk laughing came into his mind. "Well... my dad... he was really tall an' kinda hunched ovah 'cause he had a bad back. His hair was like mine only shortah..." He sheepishly felt his head as he spoke, a slight grin spreading across his features. "His laugh was really annoyin', but my mom liked it. She 'ad long brown hair, an' she was blind... she knew 'er way aroun' though. I... don' really know much more n' dat since I wasn' allowed ta see 'em; I 'ad ta sneak aroun' to get glimpses of 'em an' stuff—" He stopped suddenly, realizing how much he'd babbled out.
"You were forbidden to see your parents?" Christoph was obviously still paying rapt attention. "Then you must be an illegitimate from Malheur! Surely we can't—"
"I vote him in," Philander cut in. Joey could have sworn that a hint of a smile was playing across his lips, but he didn't dare assume nor smile at his luck. "You must have important things to do, Christoph; do not feel obligated to stay for the naming of our new member."
"Gladly," Christoph hissed, picking up his papers. "See to it that a close eye is kept on him." He shot a look of knives at Joey. "We don't know when the primal Malheur instincts may kick in."
As the door slammed loudly behind him, the meeting continued as though nothing had disturbed them. "Do excuse him; it's quite stressful to run an elite group like this. Apparently we're all hoodlums who couldn't tell their butts from their noses, and the poor child is in charge of keeping us in line." A murmur of chuckles rang through the six remaining men, all of whom had relaxed a great deal.
"Now. You are hereby inducted into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, as decided by the High Council. For this great honor, you will receive a new name, one you must use forthwith until your discharge. You, however, will have a say in which name you receive.
"The choices are limited in that they must relate to you in some way. Your options are Anatloe—Easterner, Xenophon—foreign voice, or Xanthe—fair hair. You may ask for a short amount of time to think it over, seeing as how one rarely gets to name oneself."
That night, Jack and Ethan threw a celebration in the same bar for him, bursting into laughter at the names. "Ahh mann what thaa hey? Themmre all pickin' on ya cuz yer different! Why I adda give 'em one or five o' theeeeze!" Jack swung absently at the couches.
"An' then they told me everythin' youzz guys told me before I went; I wuzz bored outta my mind, yeah? That Christoph guy, whattan ass he wuzz, leavin' me instead o' congratulatin' me 'n stuff..."
"Ey," Ethan raised his glass. "What name didja pick?"
"I azzked 'em to name me Xanthe, on one cunnndishin," Joey said proudly.
"Oh yeah, wuzzat?"
"I wanded an r on tha end uvit!"
"Hey hey." Ethan chinked his glass against Joey's. "Here's ta Xanther. Welcome to da club."