It hadn't particularly taken long for Jack to get bored on his day off: After awakening at six o' clock after a nine hour sleep (Nine times longer than he had been able to have for over a year), he ended up lying next to Uni for about half an hour until she woke up of her own volition. The next fifteen minutes saw the two of them lying awake next to each other and hugging for warmth, as the fire had gone out and the room was fucking cold. The five minutes after that saw Uni and Jack struggle to pull themselves from underneath the warmth of the blanket, and the next ten had them getting ready for the day.
At seven o' clock, Jack left the room, and made his way over to the room where Josh and Luke were sleeping in beds across from each other. The moment it hit five minutes past seven, Jack kicked the door down, punched Luke in the face, and stole some of his grenades from the bedside table. In the ensuing panic of yelling swear words, Jack ran out of the room with a looting of two flashbang grenades, a couple of smoke grenades, and a bunch of cigarettes. He spent the next half an hour wandering the halls, before stopping for a somewhat pleasant discussion with Oracle Nishizawa over the nuances of unusual clothing in Lowee. She had some complaints over her choice of uniform for her duties, but seemed more concerned over Jack being in short-sleeves with only body armour to protect his otherwise bare forearms from the biting winds. After a few theories as to why he wasn't cold, he put it down to just "I'm Scottish" and left it at that.
Ten minutes later, he met back up with Uni and they sat down for breakfast. Noire, being an early riser, was next to arrive, and the 'Lastation Trio' were, for the first time, able to have a 'family' conversation. Family is loosely used in that context, as Jack was sort of just the big brother that showed up one day and committed genocide alongside the youngest sister, but whatever. "Good morning, you two," greeted the CPU, looking completely neutrally at her sister and enforcer. "I trust you...slept well?" Jack nodded.
"Aye, best sleep I've had in years," he replied, leaning in his chair to click his back whilst looking over at Uni. "First time I've ever slept next to anyone, too." The CPU Candidate smiled at him.
"Once you get over the smell of blood and dead things, Mr. Lovebun is just a big softy," she giggled. Jack dismissed her with a roll of his eyes, accompanied by a smile as he continued eating. She looked back to Noire, who was still remaining neutral. It was almost disturbing: Jack thought she was pissed off about it. "He's like a giant hug pillow, but he's warm, and mutters in his sleep a lot." Noire nodded slowly.
"Mm," came her near silent reply. "Mm." As Jack watched, he saw a smile begin to curl at the edges of her mouth, which caused him some concern. He raised a brow.
"What're you smirkin' at?" he asked. Noire shook her head innocently.
"Oh, nothing," she whistled, withdrawing her phone. Uh oh. "Just remembering a picture I saw circling on Neppit." The Englishman stared flatly towards her, and had an accompanying response from Uni, too.
"...dare I ask what that picture is?"
Noire flashed a grin, and rotated her small phone to face Uni and Jack. "Just a little..." Noire searched for the right words as Jack and Uni began to look a little bit more sad than they did a moment before. "...leverage, shall we say?"
The picture in question was not going to do wonders for Jack's public image, and it made Uni look slightly worse; Under the title of 'Yeah, sure, he's TOTALLY hardcore...', there was a rather well-taken image of the two spooning under the blanket. Uni was sleeping with a blissful expression on her face, resting her head on Jack's bicep like a pillow. Jack, however, had a face like Ryan Gosling's usual smile, which meant he only had the slightest expression of positivity and a very small smirk, accompanied by him gently hugging his small companion like a stuffed animal. Overall, it wasn't a particularly bad photo of the two. Rather adorable, actually.
The only problem it had was that the amount of likes it had was nearing the 300,000 mark. The top comment came from OfficialGreenHeart, asking when it would be her turn. The responses to that literally all said 'Same', with the only difference being the usernames. They were all quite familiar to Jack, and he realized just who said it as he scrolled: NepuNepuBoing, ChikaHakozaki, OnlyGetHitCuzItFeelsSoGood, MaddestOfMagicians, 5pbVEVO, TwoQatarsAndMyJericho, PuddingAndPlasters, TinyBookFairy, MaidToDodgeBullets, CrimsonHairedAdventurer, and many more.
He frowned. "Noire, what the hell is this?" The CPU grinned even more.
"I thought you two looked pretty cute when you were all cozied up together," she replied calmly, bringing the phone back towards her. "So I decided that I'd take a picture of it and share it with the world."
"Siiiiiiis!" Uni cried, turning red and covering her face with her hands, before breaking off into various whining noises. Jack looked at this, then back at Noire, who was looking at the picture and grinning. Right then...let's turn this around.
"Why're you lookin' at the picture like that?" he asked, prompting Noire to look up at him and raise a brow.
"Like what?"
"Like that. Like you feel saddened and left out." He paused for effect, then smirked at her. "Are you jealous of Uni?" Instantly, the reaction Jack expected, happened: Noire's face went crimson, and she began stuttering out a lot of responses that, for some reason, Jack actually doubted.
"N-No! Don't you dare accuse me of wanting to s-snuggle you! I've already hugged you, and you smell like dead things, and that's just weird, and even if you WERE incredibly warm and DID have a comforting hug, I would NEVER want to spend a night under a warm blanket with you! S-So there!"
Jack raised his brow, and leaned forward on the table, before glancing back at Uni. "You think she's jealous?" he asked.
"Perhaps," replied the younger girl with a smile. She didn't look as embarrassed, now. Noire huffed loudly.
Jack grinned, scratching his chin. "Maybe she's worried that she might have to stop and do paperwork..." Noire grit her teeth, and lunged forward suddenly, grabbing his lapels and yanking him forwards over the table. Uni let out a yelp, standing slightly.
"S-Sis!"
"Now you listen here, pal!" Noire snapped, forcing the large man to look at her. Jack was actually slightly terrified at the expression she was pulling. He couldn't look away from it, it was weird as fuck. "As much as you joke about me being cold and corporate, I'm actually really warm-hearted and ENJOY snuggling with those I care about! I enjoy the close contact, and it establishes strong bonds! And I assure you that if you were to sleep with me, it'd be the best night of your LIFE!"
"Yeah?!" Jack yelled back, grabbing Noire's collar. "If you DID sleep with me, it'd be a night you'd NEVER fuckin' forget! It'd be so goddamn intimate, you'd feel like you were in HEAVEN!" But before Noire could formulate a sharp remark, there was a cough at the door.
The two of them froze.
Uni concealed laughter.
Jack stared ahead, then released Noire's lapels. She did the same. They sat back down. After a moment of silence, Jack turned in his chair to see the other CPUs, his fellow earth men, Rom, Ram, and Mina standing at the door. Vert, Josh, and Luke had their phones raised, likely recording everything that had just been said. Neptune, however, offered a small wave, grinning like a little psychopath.
"We...heard all that." she began.
"So we gathered." came the unanimous response.
"...you two, ah, discussin' your...plans for Mr. Lunny's day off?"
"No."
"Oh...because you two seemed to be in a little bit of a heated debate about sleepin' with each other, ya know? And the mention of intermassy isn't helping you guys' case..."
"Whatever the case is," Jack began, "I'm not above puttin' your feet in a concrete case and throwin' you into the ocean if you don't quit it."
"Juuust sayin'!~" sang the lilac-haired CPU. Under the harsh glare of the armed Briton, she skipped over to a seat and hopped onto it, rocking back and forth idly.
Vert, however, continued to cast small smiles towards Jack and Noire as everyone sat down. "Aww," she finally tutted, still smiling at them in her usual, knowing manner. "You two certainly do get on together, now that you've sorted out your problems. Perhaps there is something going on between you, that can only be solved with an eighteen-plus rated romance subplot?" Jack sighed, and rubbed his forehead.
'Let's just get the topic changed before I have lewd thoughts about Noire.'
"Speakin' of solvin' problems between people," Jack began, sitting up, "How're the summits goin'? Any major developments?" The CPUs suddenly perked up.
"Well," Blanc replied, giving an uncharaxteristic smile, "We're coming into the final discussions next week. They're due to finish in Planeptune, and then we'll need to set up an event to commemorate the occasion." Jack grinned.
"Fan-bloody-well-tastic!" he laughed, pointing a finger at them with his thumb raised. "I suppose these meetin's really have done summat for your countries!" At this point, Josh leaned forward.
"Pardon me for asking," he interjected, raising a hand. "But what are these meetings regarding? I know it's something to do with international peace, but what's Jack got to do with it? Most of the time I just see him running around and blowing monsters up for his own sado-masochistic pleasure." Jack clenched a fist, looking at his comrade.
"I'm not a ffffff-"
His eyes darted to Rom and Ram, who were looking at him with tilted heads. Then he looked to Mina, who was leaning on the table and drumming on it with an expectant yet serious expression. Jack sighed.
"Sod it. I'm not a 'sado-masochist', Josh."
"Clearly, you are."
"Give us some evidence then, Posh Boy."
"Ah, I'd probably mention that time that IF kicked your shin for not warnin' her about Deagle recoil, and accordin' to Neptune you moaned like a cat in heat," James cut in. Jack slammed a palm on the table, glaring at James.
"Go eat a dick, James."
The Welshman raised his hands defensively. "Just sayin': If you're gonna roast someone, point the flamethrower away from yourself." The comment raised silence as Jack shook his head, leaning back in his chair. Finally, he sighed.
"OK, Josh. The entire idea of these talks between the four nations is to create a peace treaty between them."
"Right...so like the Treaty of Versailles?"
"Sort of like that, but nobody loses anything." Just then, Ram spoke up.
"What's a Treaty of...Vert's Eyes?" asked the young girl.
"Versailles," Jack corrected. "It was a place in a country on Earth called France, where a treaty was signed by one of the nations in World War One that forced them to do certain things: They had to say they started the war, which they didn't; They had to demilitarize themselves to hell; And just about everythin' that would insult them on a national scale was a part of the Treaty. 'course, this led to people gettin' angry, turnin' to extremist political parties, and a certain individual gettin' into power who should not have been given access to military force, but that's beside the point."
"At the moment, the treaty's focusin' on the use of military force when a nation attempts to gain Shares for the CPU." Jack reclined in his seat, checking his nails briefly as a few people looked at him in complete bewilderment that he was actually doing a good job of explaining it, and that he even knew what the treaty's terms were. "Effectively, it's similar to NATO in that if one nation is attacked, the others will join in defendin' them. It means that if, say, Vert went even more forward than she already is and tried to take down Planeptune, Lowee and Lastation'd jump in to help fight her off." Vert let out a quiet 'hmmph' and pouted slightly.
"I don't see why you would use me in the example," she whined, folding her arms under her breasts. "I would never commit to such an act as low as invading an ally. And what do you mean, 'even more forward than I already am'?"
"Maybe it's a joke about your breasts, Lady Vert," Chaz suggested. "I wouldn't be surprised, considering how Jack's sense of humour has picked up since he got some sleep." Vert smiled, reached towards him, and rubbed the top of his helmet like she was petting a dog.
"Thank you, Mr. Chaz," she beamed, patting his head, "I would be frankly lost without your input." Whilst Chaz continued looking worried behind his mask, Noire leaned forward to look at Jack.
"My biggest concern is how you know all this," she said curiously, "I thought you said you didn't want to hear about the talks unless you asked. How did you get the information about the agreed-upon terms of the treaty without asking us?" In response, the green-shirted giant threw his arms up in a shrug.
"Lady Noire," he began, "Need I remind you that I, along with the other lads, trained with a bunch of government professionals in the art of intelligence gatherin' techniques. This mission was intelligence gatherin' to begin with, and even though I sort of diverted it by creatin' diplomacy between you lot, I still remember most of the stuff I was taught. I'm like a shadow in the room, you just can't see me when you're all busy talkin'." Noire swallowed hard.
Had she really not seen him in the room whilst they talked? She was losing touch.
"That," Jack continued, smiling at her reaction, "Or I just read a few documents I saw lyin' around on tables." Noire let out a breath she had no idea she was holding.
"I'm not sure whether that can count as international espionage," Blanc noted. "In Lowee, such a crime is punishable by execution." James just grinned, checking his nails.
"Gonna have to be one hell of a firin' squad to get rid of us," he laughed, patting his armour panels that were strapped all over his body. "Two-and-a-half inches of ballistic protection. This armour can stop a three-oh-eight round at point blank range. Jack and Josh, meanwhile, probably struggle to take nine millimeter."
"Makes you look fat, though," Josh retorted. "Try hiding that stuff under a coat."
"Plus, you move pretty slowly," Jack added. "And why do you need that much protection when you opted to be a designated sniper? What the hell are they gonna be shootin' back at you with; Death Stars?"
"Is that much armor really unnecessary, though?" Blanc enquired, stirring her tea. "I mean, he's still around. That speaks volumes in that it works." James extended a hand towards her, smiling and nodding appreciatively.
"See, Lady Blanc gets it."
"If that's the argument for you needin' to wrap yourself up in a Sherman tank," Jack retorted, "Then what about me?" He gestured to himself, before folding his arms and reclining slightly. "Shirt. T-Shirt. Lightweight armour. Forearm guards. Shin guards. Boots. Jeans. Bandoliers. I'm still here, too. That speaks volumes that this is clearly superior combat gear."
"Nah," Uni piped up, grinning. "You're forgetting the power of a skirt! I'm still alive, and so are Noire, Blanc, and Neptune. My clothes are great for fighting in." Jack grinned, giving her a pat on the shoulder.
"Uni, you seem to be the only one who understands me, lately," he laughed, before pausing. "Though, Chaz and Chika seem to, as well. They're both pretty questionable when it comes to humour, too." The pause continued.
"So!" Noire suddenly piped up, placing a glass on the table with sudden force, prompting a few people to recoil slightly. "It's the start of your days off, Mr. Lovebun! How are you planning to spend it?" Once he'd stopped his heart from hammering, the man cleared his throat, sitting up. The CPUs bristled with anticipation.
"Uh...probably just dick about with my guns."
The CPUs' shoulders simultaneously slumped.
"...that...that's it?" Neptune asked.
"Yeah," Jack nodded. "Not like I have anythin' better to do, since you said no monster fightin'."
"Well." Vert whistled, leaning onto the table and drumming her fingers thoughtfully. "You...could..."
"...dick about with my guns." Jack finished, staring flatly at her.
"N-No...I was going to suggest video games," Vert sighed, rubbing her forehead. "They're a much better means of enjoyment than weapons."
"But I haven't played video games in about a year and a half. And I wanted to get my guns lookin' solid. Y'know...uh...um...what's it called?" He glanced over to Chaz. "Chaz, what's that called whe-"
"Polish." Chaz didn't even look at him, instead choosing to continue fishing around in his pocket for something. This didn't bother Jack, though. He had learned a new word again.
"That's the one!" he cheered, giving the pilot a thumbs up, before looking back at Vert. "Yeah. I was gonna polish my guns."
"Why do that?" she asked.
"Because I want to."
"That's...not a particularly clear answer."
"Fine. Because I want to make my guns look nice."
"Oh. Very well."
So, after a few more minutes of conversation, Jack stood, and left the breakfast hall to go find a place in which to go about making his guns all shiny. It wasn't too difficult; In spite of the normally hostile conditions outside, the sun was shining down on Lowee and causing some of the snow to melt. Thus, he stepped out onto the balcony, placed his bag down on the table, and withdrew every single gun and weapon that he had with him, neatly arranging them before him.
Normally, he was pretty OCD. He'd always put things with the labels-facing-forwards when putting stuff in a fridge. He'd always tuck his laces into his boots when he wasn't wearing them. He (normally) kept his clothing ironed.
But when it came to arranging lethal weapons, he was more than OCD. The small arms were arranged by cartridge size; Both the .32 Skorpions were placed next to each other, then the two .357 Mateba revolvers, then the .44 Desert Eagle and .44 revolver. The larger guns were positioned on the table in a similar fashion: His 12G Mossberg was lying closest to his seat, then came the 7.62 x 39 AK, and finally the 7.62 RPD.
As he came to sorting through the various knives and melee weapons, Jack became aware of a sudden bleeping from the bottom of his bag. For a moment, he hesitated, looking blankly at the small satchel. Then, slowly, he opened it and began rummaging through, the sound becoming louder and quieter as he moved things around. Finally, he came upon the source.
There, lying at the very bottom of his equipment bag, was the radio he'd been issued before entering the portal. The amount of dust and dirt on it indicated that it hadn't actually been pulled out for a very long time, but the red flashing light on it was clear as day. Sitting himself down, Jack withdrew the radio and the small headset that he had been issued alongside it, before connecting the two, donning the headgear, and looking at the radio.
The bleeping was in synchronization with the light flashing. That combination must have meant that it was transmitting a signal...or receiving one.
After a pause, he pressed the button, and moved the microphone down so he could speak into it. "Afternoon, London speakin'." The response was a few seconds of static, before the sound of a small ruckus on the other end, distant voices, and a man coughing whilst pages were turned.
"Hello?! Is this London? Jack London?!"
Jack looked about slightly in confusion. "...aye?" The voices returned.
"Holy fuck!" came the American man's voice once again. "None of you contacted us since you all entered that fucking portal four years ago!" Jack blinked.
What?
"...four years?"
"Exactly! Four years! That's how long you boys've been out there!" Jack shook his head.
"Nah, it's not been four years," he replied, scratching his head, "It's only been about three or four months. I mean, sorry for not contactin' you, but-"
"It's only been three or four months over there?" The voices went silent.
"Yeah."
"...there's temporal distortion." The voices slowly murmured into life in the background. Holy shit, this bloke had a good microphone. "Four years over here on Earth...that's four months over there. Time must run twelve times faster here than it does over in the Second Dimension." Jack sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Fuck..." he muttered. He'd been missing for five years back home, including his training. Any of his friends and family probably had no idea where he was. Maybe there was a manhunt going on.
Was he the new Madeline McCann?
Damn.
He steeled himself, and sat up. "Right then...Mr...?"
"Lieutenant McCain," responded the man. "Like the Die Hard cop."
"Whatever. What're you needin' me to do?" There was no hesitation.
"We need you to find an area of that dimension that we can use to set up a research outpost."
"Well, shit, I can't really do that," Jack winced. "I doubt the ladies in charge here would appreciate that." There was a hesitation.
"...ladies...in charge? Are you telling us there's signs of life, Mr. London?"
"More than signs; There's four nations, four goddesses, millions of civilians, monsters, open terrain...this place is fuckin' mad! Settin' up a research base is gonna be a tough job for me and the lads to run by the CPUs..."
"CPUs?" The voices on the other end were bristling with pure excitement and awe.
"Console Patron Units," Jack explained, standing up and beginning to pace around the balcony. "There's four of them. Each one runs one of the countries. You've got Lady Noire runnin' Lastation, Lady Neptune runnin' Planeptune, Lady Vert in charge of Leanbox, and Lady Blanc as head of Lowee. They've been at war for the past few centuries, over Shares. Shares are the belief of their civilians, turned into pure energy for consumption by the CPUs. Their Share energy directly correlates to how powerful they are. And these ladies're no ordinary ladies...they can transform."
"Holy shit...this...this is amazing...!"
"You're goddamn right it is," Jack said proudly, jabbing a finger at the radio. "It gets better, and this is how I helped. When I showed up, the dimension travel portal thing dropped me up in a place called Celestia, where only the CPUs can travel to and do battle in. At the time I arrived, three of them were gangin' up on one of them, so I stepped in, talked with them, and now they're in fuckin' diplomatic meetin's for the first time in centuries! I'm in pretty deep with them; They trust me enough that I have citizenship to Lastation, and the CPU of that nation trusts me to look after her younger sister."
"Fucking hell!" McCain cried, as voices began sounding incredibly excited in the background. Jack smiled. "London, I don't know if you realize this, but you've just fucking REVOLUTIONIZED this project, and potentially the world!"
"Alright, guess this project paid off for summat," he grinned. "So, what're you needin'? Info? Photos? Economic and political shite?" There was a pause.
"Everything."
Jack nodded, and sat down, withdrawing his phone to dial up Noire.
"Cool. I'll get one of the goddesses on the line."
On the other end of the interdimensional radio, grown men fainted in their labcoats at the proposition of casual communication with a fucking alien.