"Are we near-"
"Oracle or not, Miss Hakozaki, I will knock you unconscious if you ask that Goddess-damned question again."
Jack steadily chewed his lip, watching the sharp exchange from the passenger seat of the van. Apparently, the sun had already gotten to Cave: She was not in the best mood.
Though, as they drove at a solid 60 miles an hour down the long, empty stretch of road, he considered that she may have been in a bad mood because they were ten minutes behind the schedule that Cave had set for their journey. Originally, they'd wanted to leave at 4:30PM, with the half hour being for Chika to find a gun.
Said 40 minute delay was because Chika had insisted they test her new gun at the Pawn shop's outdoor range. She'd decided on something relatively basic; What appeared to be a comically proportioned AK-style rifle. Whilst Cave watched in agony, glancing at her watch and tapping her foot with a cute yet angry expression on her face, Jack taught the Oracle the very basics of operating and using an AK.
Of course, the advice went in one ear and out the other, as it was mere minutes before Chika found that she was most comfortable holding the stockless rifle at the hip like London usually would. This rather annoyed Cave, who then pardoned all three of them, then practically threw Chika and London into the van, thanked the store owner, and then utilized evasive driving techniques to within an inch of breaking the law on the way out of Leanbox.
So, it was only natural that she was in a bit of a bad mood.
In the back of the van – one of the Leanbox military's transport vans with a rather spacious back that had one seat next to the back doors and that was it – Chika hesitated, then went back to sitting silently, finally deciding to pull out a pair of headphones and set them so loud that Jack could hear the hissing noise from where he was. He licked his lips briefly after seeing this, and looked at Cave.
She was staring ahead at the long, empty road ahead, with that rather cold stare she always had when she was doing anything boring. She really didn't look happy. She hadn't looked happy in the morning, either. Something was wrong.
Jack briefly cleared his throat. "Cave...you...you feelin' alright?" he asked quietly. Her gaze didn't falter from the road.
"I'm fine," she replied coldly. "I simply wish to get this over-and-done with, minimizing foolish questions." Jack slowly nodded in understanding, and sat upright in the passenger-side seat of the van, to Cave's right. He thought for a moment.
"Is askin' if you're alright a foolish question?"
Cave blinked for a moment, then sighed.
"Mr. Loondumb, it's my job to make sure you're OK. Not the other way around."
"You worry about me?" Jack asked.
If he was actually paying attention to any cues, he would've noticed Cave go slightly red and choke slightly.
"Well...yes," she finally replied, swallowing. "It's my job. I have to worry about you." Jack gave a flat shrug.
"You're damn good at it," came his almost careful response. "And because of that, I always feel like I owe you one for how much you look out for me...so, you lemme know if summat's botherin' you, alright, Cave? I'm always open to talk about whatever you want."
The woman seemed almost taken aback for a second, finally giving Jack a short glance, so as not to distract herself from the road for too long. "Oh, um...I see," she finally mumbled. "I...I'll remember...um." At this point, Jack raised a brow.
"Summat's botherin' you."
Cave let out a slow sigh, closing her eyes briefly and rubbing her face.
"Yes. Something is bothering me."
Jack looked sideways at her, giving the universal 'go on' gesture. "Aaand...?"
It almost seemed to be painful for Cave to say. "I...I'd like to...I'd like to tell you about it." She already seemed to be slightly less stressed just by saying it. That, or she was sweating a lot more all of a sudden. Even Jack, who hated warm environments, had gotten used to the heat of the desert zone. Nevertheless, deciding not to bring up her sweating for fear of her deciding he was some kind of deviant for noticing it, he smiled.
"I'm happy to listen, Cave," came his calm reply. "What's troublin' you?" The woman once again seemed hesitant, before giving a slight hand gesture to the back of the van.
"I...I think Miss Hakozaki can-"
"No, no, don't worry, she's got headphones in on maximum volume and it looks like she's fallen asleep within the space of two minutes. You can speak freely, Cave."
She paused again, then exhaled.
"Well...as...as you know, I don't exactly have my own home," she began, "The RRoD doesn't exactly have a problem with me purchasing a house, but it's...it's more that I'm worried about living outside of SMD property and safehouses. So, technically I live in the SMD headquarters of downtown Leanbox, in the barracks, and I have done so for nearly my entire career spanning over a decade." Jack folded his arms, and stroked his chin.
"I see."
"Though, recently, with the...developments in how closely I'm having to protect you, and the fact that we intend to live in the same house at some point, I'm...not sure I'm ready to try and live in a civilian house."
"You think it might be you're worried about 'homesickness', as it were?" Jack asked. Cave shook her head.
"No, not at all, it's not that I'd miss the barracks – it's my worries about moving into a totally unregimented environment. No hard wake-ups, no attack drills, no mandatory training...a few days ago in Lastation, even just waking up in my own room felt incredibly uncomfortable for me."
Jack shook his head. "Two years, I ran off an hour's sleep every five days. That hour'd be cut short when someone shot me or otherwise cracked my shit in with some blunt object to wake me up again for another few days of trauma." He paused, and raised a finger. "You want an example?"
"Of course."
"Remember the first night we snuggled, where I suddenly jolted awake at like four in the mornin', sweatin'?"
"Yes. I rather blearily remember stroking your head to calm you down, and it worked." Jack just gave his 'yeah, that™" hand gesture at her.
"Aye. Worked very well. But I woke up the same way I do most nights: Jolt awake, because I hear a slight noise and think it's Lieutenant Wang comin' to break my arm with his boot because I've overslept by one and a half minutes." He briefly chuckled. "When it happened at Miss Compa's place, I told her it was just a nightmare and she just dismissed it."
"You still haven't fought past it?" Cave asked. Jack shrugged.
"Nah. I'll be honest, sleepin' normally after the horrendous treatment I received has been...hard. But obviously, there'll always be shards of those memories lyin' around. Bad habits are hard to break, y'know?"
Cave nodded again. "Yes, I'm aware. I still wake up at six-thirty in the morning, somewhat expecting Drill Sergeant Galaga to be yelling at me, and I still make my bed incredibly tightly no matter where I am. Moving into a house with you and Mr. Chaz would be...difficult. I might make your bed as well as mine." Jack chuckled briefly again.
"Hey, not wrong, especially you said you wanted to share a bed. You just really want to be held at night, eh?" Cave gave him an incredulous look, smiling herself.
"Ah: Sticks and stones, Mr. Loondumb. Watch your mouth, or I might gently pull you to my chest under a warm blanket, stroke your hair, and whisper soothingly into your ear until you fall asleep in my arms, such as is your interest." Jack went red, rolling his eyes.
"I'm not gonna disclose my thoughts on that. But long story short...that, uh, that sounds...really nice, actually." Cave giggled slightly, then let out a satisfied sigh. There remained a brief moment until she spoke again.
"Though, I can say," she began again, "I won't miss the PERSIAN troops and their recent nickname for me."
"What's that?"
"You promise me you won't laugh?"
"I keep promises, Cave, you know me."
"...it's 'Cougar'."
Jack mulled on this, frowning.
"...a what?" he asked finally. Cave gave a flat stare at him for as long as she wasn't distracted from the road.
"You don't know what a 'cougar' is?"
"Ain't it some kind of machine-gun jeep?"
"That's a 'Puma', Mr. Loondumb."
"Oh. So it's the wildcat, then?"
"It means an older woman who hangs around with younger men."
Jack shrugged. "So?"
"So, Mr. Loondumb, they're insinuating that you and I are in some kind of non-work-appropriate relationship." He shrugged again.
"Well, we ain't, so what's the problem with hangin' out?" He gestured back to Chika. "Cave, it it makes you feel better, Chika has been not-subtly sextin' me ever since I gave her my phone number, and so far she has almost-full-nude flashed me on three – count 'em – THREE occasions at the basilicom's indoor pool area." He grimaced slightly, going a bit pale. "...I...I'll admit they were long flashes. Aaaand that I was maybe like three feet away from her havin' a conversation with her at those times. And...and that I didn't look away within the first five, ten, maybe fifty seconds...I got a bit lost in her chest...but I really didn't enjoy it."
Cave sucked air through her teeth. "I can bet you didn't," she replied understandingly. "I can't even say you're lying, since your reaction to my own semi-naked form was less than perverted. You really are quite uncomfortable around nudity, aren't you, Mr. Loondumb?"
Jack said nothing, then nodded.
"I see. Well...the same offer you have given me, I shall give to you," she replied finally. "If you ever feel as though you need someone to talk to, it's my job to make sure that you're feeling safe. You can tell me anything, OK?" Jack slowly nodded, finally smiling.
"Aye...thanks, Cave."
"No problem at all. A favour for a favour, Mr. Loondumb."
There came yet another pause for a minute or two.
Finally, Jack raised a finger.
"I think I figured it out."
"Hmm?"
"I figured out what you do that bothers me."
Cave was actually quite surprised at the tone shift. He was criticizing her? That was rather sudden.
"I'm...sorry to hear that. What error is it, Mr. Loondumb?"
"That, right there. You call me 'Mr. London'."
She raised a brow, leaning across in her seat briefly to reach for the cruise control, before finally adjusting herself to sit more comfortably with her feet off the pedals. "That's basic bodyguarding manners," she began, confused. "Referring to my protectee as 'Sir' or 'Lady' is...well, it's something I've always done. It's polite."
"But you don't want me callin' you Mrs. Cave?" Jack asked, folding his arms.
"Calling me 'Mrs. Cave' would be incorrect; I'm unmarried. 'Miss Cave' would be more appropriate."
"But you still don't want it?"
Cave shook her head. "I couldn't possibly ask you to keep giving me a title even though I'm your bodyguard. Just 'Cave' is fine."
"But I'm the same as you, I still call everyone 'Miss'. Miss IF, Miss Compa, Miss MAGES., all that jazz. I mean, I'd be fine with you callin' me by my first name at this point." Cave thought for a second, still watching the road, before she raised a brow in thought. Then, she squinted, before frowning, finally looking back at him.
"...sincerest apologies, but I use your surname so often that I may have forgotten your first name." Jack wasn't particularly upset, instead choosing to let out a short chuckle, putting his feet up on thr dashboard (albeit with difficulty due to how small the space was).
"Ah, no worries," he replied calmly, waving a dismissive hand. "Nobody around here uses it, for some reason. I think my mates're the only ones who do. My first name's Jack." Cave froze for a second, before raising her head appreciatively.
"Ah, yes, indeed, it is," she mused. "I should really have remembered, since it has been forty-three chapters of that being used when writing your actions."
Jack opted to ignore that existential crisis for now.
"So, whatever's comfortable for you," he said, scratching his chin. "You don't need to keep callin' me 'Mister'. I'm not married, and I'm your junior, so it's kind of weird." Cave, still keeping an eye on the road, smiled slightly.
"If you don't mind, I think I'll keep calling you 'Mr. Lovebun'," she replied, stroking her chin with a free hand. "After all, if I don't do it, eventually everyone else will stop being as polite as I am. Besides, you have the looks needed to pull off being called 'Mister'. Very mature-looking, if you don't mind me saying so." Jack chuckled again.
"This is summat we go over a lot, now that you all know how old I am. I'm startin' to be less bothered about the whole 'lookin' older' thing. At the very least, I look like I can actually fit in when I'm hangin' about with a bunch of girls that're older than me." He smirked. "So far, not countin' the CPUs, you're one of the older ladies I hang out with."
Cave rolled her eyes. "Wow. Thank you. I appreciate the honour of being called old." Jack just laughed.
"Well, c'mon, you know what I mean."
"Of course I do. I'm joking."
"You? Joking? That's rare."
"I like to think I'm reserved with my humour, in the same way that one shouldn't regularly serve their finest whiskey, except to their closest friends."
Jack shrugged. "Never been one for drinkin'. Why not always serve the good stuff? Just because you don't have enough?" Cave smiled.
"No, simply because it makes those times in which you do bring out the good stuff even more special, and enjoyable." She looked at him again. "For instance, just then, in which you commented that it is, indeed, rare for me to make jokes. The last time I'd made one before that...hmm." Jack joined her in thinking, finally deciding to lower the sun visor before him and rub his eyes.
When had she last been joking around with him?
"Daaamn, that would've been..."
Oh, right.
"You were teasin' me for wantin' to be the little spoon."
At mention of that little moment, Cave's smile returned, and she gave a satisfied chuckle. Jack groaned loudly. "Come ooooon, it's not that funny," he whined, covering his face briefly. "Why do you and Chika think it's so amusin'?" As he complained, Cave covered her increasing grin and light giggling.
"Well, nothing to be ashamed of," she replied, gesturing to him, "It's just the contrast between what you do, how you look, how you act, and...the fact that you enjoy being gently embraced, and your head stroked." She licked her lips for a second, still smiling at his reaction. "I must say, however, that you give off a rather delightful warmth. I drifted off to sleep myself, very shortly after you did, though much of that may have been due to that wonderful massage." Jack scratched his cheek, wincing slightly as he shifted what might have been a piece of chipped jawbone.
"I'd never given too many massages until I started hangin' with Chika," he mused, gesturing to the Oracle in the back of the van who was now fiddling with her recently-acquired gun. He then paused. "...come to think of it, she's been quite the eye-opener to everythin' I missed as a teenager. First woman I've ever seen practically naked, whether I wanted to or not, so...that's a record, for her." Cave raised a brow.
"You've never told me too much about what you were like before you came here," she noted. "Only tidbits and scraps about your past. I'd be rather interested to find out more." Jack shrugged, reaching down to find the small lever that reclined the seat.
"Aye? Well..." he grunted, finding purchase on it. "Lemme...get comfortable...and I'll start talk-AGH, CHRIST!"
As he spoke and attempted to tug the lever, it suddenly gave way, releasing the lock on the back of the chair and almost instantly flinging Jack onto his back, legs still on the dashboard and thus above his head level. The seatbelt held firm, meaning he looked rather a tit as his legs swung up and over his face, his arse pointing towards the windscreen.
Chika cast him a glance, immediately letting out an extended 'Pfffffft' and returning to her gun fiddling, and Cave – quite surprisingly – broke into laughter at his misfortune, the van swerving slightly as she burst into a very rare bout of hysterics.
Jack, whilst somewhat pleased that he'd cheered Cave up, was quite annoyed, and began struggling to right the seat spine.
Four minutes of laughter and suffering later...
"Alright, now that's out of the way," Jack sighed, brushing himself off and lying down in the (correctly adjusted) seat, much to Cave's amusement, "Where did you want me to start?" The redhead finished chuckling, and gave it a bit of thought.
"...how about we begin with childhood?" she suggested. "I take it you were quite far from the gunslinging one-man-army that you are now?" Jack nodded.
"Ohhh, yeah. That's a definite. If you want a good comparison as to what I was like as a kid, compare me to the Lowee Candidates." Cave considered this, and raised her head understandingly.
"Ah, I see. A bit of a troublemaker?"
"Nope."
"Well, I frankly refuse to believe you were like Lady Rom is described to be."
"You also didn't believe that I was a little spoon."
"That's...true. Really? You were shy?"
"Very. Never had any friends for about six years, through primary school. I met Luke in the first year of primary school, and then James transferred in the year after. Josh was two years after, in a whole different school."
"You had no friends outside of them?"
"Well...no, not really. I didn't really bother with friends. I'd always been a bit of a nerd, so..."
Cave raised a brow, smirking. "You considered yourself a nerd?" she mirthed. "Hard to believe." Jack nodded, staring at the van roof.
"Oh, aye, for sure," he replied. "Used to play a lot of video games, read a lot, hated goin' outside, struggled socially, all that jazz. Only savin' grace was that I spent so long on the internet that my wit was sharp enough to shave with."
"You don't seem to have lost that."
"I hope I never do."
"Likewise: I'd argue you're one of my more entertaining protectees, in terms of banter and running commentaries. A refreshing change from VIPs making inane observations in dangerous scenarios."
"And you're the nicest bodyguard I've ever had, so it evens out, eh?"
"Hmm. Indeed, it does." Cave thought again for a moment, not looking away from the road for too long. "Alright, then. I vaguely remember when we first met formally, Lady Vert referred to your friend Mr. Black as 'Richard Head'."
"Aye," Jack nodded. "We all had to change our names. For Luke, it was a blessin'."
"Yes, I gathered," Cave replied thoughtfully. "Being called 'Dick Head' is a rather cruel joke to have played on you by your parents. But that being said, what was your name? Your old name, that is?" Jack smirked.
"It was Bill Wallace, before all this," he sighed, scratching his head. "My grandparents were Scottish, and on my Granny's side, we descended from the Wallace clan of Scotland. Not sure if I'm directly related to Sir William Wallace – a legendary Scottish folk hero – but my Mum wanted me to have as much pride in it as possible. Hence, my full name was William 'Stirling' Wallace – Stirling bein' my middle name, and a reference to the battle which made the guy famous, the Battle of Stirling Bridge."
Cave tilted her head appreciatively. "If there was so much sentimental value to the name, why change it?" she asked. "Surely, there must have been more people in your world called 'William Wallace'." Jack shrugged.
"The project didn't care. They said 'Change your name, or we'll give you a number instead'. Nice of them to give us a book of name ideas, in honesty, and the fella in charge of changin' the names was very knowledgeable on all of the names people picked, and those who'd had them before." Cave smiled again.
"I see. And you took the name of some legendary warrior, I presume?"
Jack shook his head, which surprised Cave quite a lot.
"Really?" she asked, genuinely quite shocked. "I thought you would find another historical warrior to name yourself after."
"Nah," Jack sighed, scratching the back of his neck, "I just picked it because it had a nice ring to it. 'Jack London'. Sounds like a Spy's name, don't it?" Cave shrugged.
"I don't know. I'm not sure what spies were named where you're from." At this, Jack chuckled.
"Oh, right, you've never seen James Bond, huh? I need to see if I can find any of the Recreational Hard Drives we got sent through with for morale purposes," he noted. "Those things were stuffed with movies and media, with the idea bein' that we'd set up a base and use it as some kind of morale tool or recreational thing." Cave raised a brow again.
"Oh? Sounds interesting," she murmured, "Perhaps after you take me for the dinner that you still owe me, we can watch a movie from your planet. I assure you, they'll be much better than the ones from Gamindustri." Jack chuckled again, rubbing his eyes, and rolling in the seat to face Cave.
"Ah, I owe you dinner, now, do I?" he laughed. "I seem to owe you quite a lot, Cave." The woman smiled, leaning into her chair slightly and one-handing the steering wheel so she could adjust her fringe.
"Well, debts tend to rack up when you have to keep being saved by your bodyguard," she replied smoothly. "Besides, it's not as though they're particularly bad debts to have. I indulged in your 'little spoon' fantasy after my massage, did I not?" Jack rolled his eyes.
"Sure, sure...tell you what, Cave. I'll take you for dinner when the chance arises, on one condition."
The woman listened intently.
"You have to start callin' me by my name, with no 'Mr' in front of it." Cave groaned, smiling, as Jack wagged a finger at her from his lying down position. "You're older than me, Cave, callin' me 'Mr' just sounds patronisin'." She shook her head, still smirking.
"Alright," she sighed, looking down at him. "You've got a deal, London."
Jack's laughter stopped.
"Y...You said it right."
Cave looked left to right in confusion, and slowly nodded. "Well...yes?"
Jack blinked a few times, stunned. "I...wow. You...you couldn't have said that sooner?" Cave shrugged at his bewilderment.
"Well, calling you 'Glovebox', 'Lovebun', 'LANdoom', 'Longbum', and all the rest wouldn't be easy without the 'Mr.' before it," she explained, "Without the title, it would just seem like I would be naming random objects or saying randomized phrases. Hence, calling you 'London'."
Jack stared in absolute disbelief.
Finally, Cave rolled her eyes again. "Goodness gracious, it's just your name," she sighed, "Why are you so amazed?"
"...you and Chika and Lady Nepgear are the only ones who've ever said my name right. Nepgear didn't even say it in regards to me, and Chika said summat about it bein' 'plot convenient' to say my name when she did."
Cave offered nothing but a flat stare.
"You owe me dinner, London," came her rather unamused response.
"Make that dinner and one of those weird massages you wanted to try out, Cave," he corrected, "I had no idea how much you sayin' my name correctly would cheer me up. Thank you." As he rolled onto his back and stared at the roof of the van, still contemplating how much that had shaken him, Cave glanced at the invisible, omnipresent 'camera', and smirked.
'Touchdown.'
An hour and a half later...
Immediately upon entering the outskirts of the town, the road became much, much cleaner, and Jack was distrustful. A well-used desert road would always have sand on it from the winds of passing cars, so the fact that the asphalt leading into Nokeya was a clean black made him rather unnerved. Chika had unclipped her seatbelt, and moved to grip the two seats of Cave and Jack so that she could see through the windshield.
Nokeya was fairly reminiscent of one of those small towns you'd see in the middle of nowhere in the likes of Arizona and Texas; The main road stretched through the middle of the town, with a few blocks of buildings either side. Off the central stretch, numerous side roads broke up the bulk of the storefronts, turning off into a number of cul-de-sacs and other businesses around the place. On the approach, Jack had seen a rather large warehouse-esque building on the right, and across the town was a large derelict factory.
Otherwise, it was a wholly unremarkable place in the middle of a desert. That is, if you don't count the fact that there were very few people there.
Driving through, Jack had seen maybe three or four people walking the streets, all of whom gave the van an almost bewildered stare as it drove through, and continued looking as it pulled up in front of a fairly large building with grimy white lettering that read 'NOKEYA TOWN HALL'.
Gently bringing the van to a halt, Cave pulled the handbrake and then switched the engine off, leaving the three in silence for a moment. "I don't like this place," she said finally, turning her head towards Jack and Chika. "I really, really don't like this place." Chika chewed her lip for a second.
"I can level with that," she murmured, eyes slowly gazing through the windshield at the wide, empty street before them. "This place is an absolute ghost town. Where the Hell is everybody?" Jack shrugged, silently checking his revolver's sights were aligned, and making sure the Deagle was ready too.
"I was briefed on the communications drop," Cave noted, thumbing at her chin. "It's no surprise that we have no guidance as to where we are to go." Chika scratched her head.
"Weeell...y'want my thoughts? I think we should head to that big warehouse place that we saw on the way in."
Jack let out a puff of air from his nose. "Not a bad shout," he chuckled, slotting his handguns away. "If anyone'd happen to know where Vert's mum is, it's either the mayor, or some warehouse worker, and the mayor'd probably only give us Vert's mum's location if we found it in the first place."
Cave just raised a slightly unamused brow. "And why would a warehouse employee know?"
"Because the working class know a Hell of a lot more than most government officials," Chika declared. "I've had young people born in poor areas successfully guess my cup size more often than any foreign diplomat my age ever has. Scientific fact. In fact, check this, Cave." She turned to London. "Hey, Mr. Glovebox. Wha-"
"E cup," Jack interrupted calmly. "Fifty-five waist, eighty-eight hip. Forty three kilograms. Forty five when fully clothed." Both Cave and Chika gave rather stunned looks as Jack continued staring ahead out of the windshield, idly glancing around.
"That's...well, correct," the Oracle replied, still slightly bewildered, "But how do you know my waist and hip measurements?" Jack rolled his eyes.
"Oracle, do you know how many times I've had to try and put you into bed when you were steamin' drunk and throwin' your clothes off?" he sighed. "Any time you have too much, you just tell me these things, ask me for meaningless and off-the-record shags, or come up with thinly-veiled jibes towards anyone you've had slight disagreements with."
Chika hardly seemed embarrassed, instead choosing to pluck a stray eyelash using the rear view mirror as a guide. "Oh, yeah, I do that, don't I?" she murmured thoughtfully. Blinking a few times, she shook her head quickly. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. Cave, Mr. Glovebox here is pretty much proof that a working class young man can know all these sort of things about everything. I say we use our big guy as a compass."
Jack shrugged, and pointed to his right, in the vague direction of the warehouse. "I say we go that way," he announced. "If someone's gonna be workin', it'll be over at that warehouse." Cave sighed, and rubbed her brow, leaning on the steering wheel.
"We're right outside the town hall," she grumbled, finally undoing her seatbelt. "I'll go in and ask for directions. You two, stay in here, I'll be...five, ten minutes at most." As she opened the door and stepped onto the pavement, she turned back to the van. "Please don't do anything ridiculous whilst I'm gone, London."
With that, she shut the door and turned towards the steps to the town hall, shaking the aging van slightly and prompting some squeaks from the suspension. Immediately as the squeaking ceased, Jack undid his seatbelt and clambered into the back of the van to sit with Chika. Every movement the massive man made rocked the van, prompting more squeaks from the tired suspension. Chika looked down at this in amusement, deciding to plop herself down in the middle of the van's floor.
Then, after London had sat opposite her cross-legged, she put both hands either side of her on the floor, and shifted side to side, prompting yet more squeaking as the van rocked. "Damn," she whistled, "Nice of the Leanbox Army to give us their good stuff, huh?" Jack smirked again.
"Aye, exceptional one, this. Squeaks at every movement." Chika nodded, continuing her idle van-rocking. Then, she stopped, and glanced up at Jack, smirking.
"Hey...you wanna make this van really rock?~"
Jack grinned.
"We've got about ten minutes. Don't see why not."
And so, they got straight to business.
Two minutes later...
Cave came back to find the van bouncing. The vehicle was emitting incredibly loud creaking that could be heard from the moment she stepped out of the town hall with a crudely drawn set of directions to their destination – which was not a warehouse, but actually a shooting range. From inside, the giggling of the two occupants could be heard rather loudly, much to Cave's chagrin.
She was actually amazed, upset, and disgusted at the same time.
It had LITERALLY been two minutes. The receptionist had been incredibly helpful to her, and the ten minute wait – something she'd come to expect from the DMV – did not exist.
She narrowed her eyes, walking straight to the back doors of the olive green van. Two minutes, and Chika had somehow pulled the charm on London and convinced him to break his vow of chastity.
Cave snarled slightly, and yanked the doors open at the same time, revealing their dreadful act.
Both of them were laughing loudly, shaking the van up and down by rocking backwards and forwards whilst holding support areas of the van. Both, of course, were fully clothed, but still thoroughly amused by the prospect of the van's horrendously loud suspension.
Cave let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding, and completely ignored the bewildered stare of a passerby who didn't see what was going on in the van, and was undoubtedly making the same assumption that she did. Of course, said passerby also got to see a middle-aged woman looking disappointedly into the van that was a gaggle of laughing and squeaking suspension. She was almost glad that communications were down, or she'd probably be nicknamed the 'Cucked Commando' or something of the like.
Nevertheless, she once again slammed the van doors, got into the driver's seat silently, and without warning, broke into a rapid 180° turn from the parked position. In the back, Chika screamed out in abject terror whilst Jack burst out laughing. The van tipped dangerously as Jack's weight hit one side, and the loud thuds indicated that both parties had come to a halt on the metal floor. Chika brushed a dishevelled lock of hair from her face, and grabbed Cave's seat, pulling herself forwards.
"Caaave, warn me next tiiime!" she cried, "We were just filling time!" The redhead just brushed away the Oracle's hand, glancing down at her directions, and breaking into a quick left turn at the map's request.
"Next time, try not to do something which looks like you're having a moment in the back of a van," she snapped firmly. "Find something normal to do!" Chika just groaned loudly, glancing at Jack, who was now just lying flat in the back of the vehicle.
"Well, I WAS about to try pinning him down and straddling his waist like a normal person would, and then THIS weirdo decides to start rocking the van back and forth, so I improvised," the Oracle declared, folding her arms and looking back at her male companion. "I mean SURE, rocking the van was actually funny, but c'mon, Mr. Glovebox, REALLY?"
Jack just wound down his laughing. "Ahh, I dunno what you were expectin'," he whistled, "I'm pretty sure shakin' the van is universal comedy, ain't it?"
Chika rolled her eyes, and leaned over to Cave. The bodyguard tilted her head slightly to hear what was to be said. "I asked 'How about we really make the van shake?'," she said quietly. "I really don't understand how he didn't get what I meant."
Cave sucked air through her teeth, flicking a turn signal to head down a side road. "Personal theory, Oracle, but I don't think he wants anything to do with your...horizontal tango'ing."
Just then, Jack sneezed, and a bullet from a few weeks ago that had been lodged somewhere in his head flew out, pinging off the side of the van wall. Chika and Cave gave rather stunned looks in the mirror as the man sat up, wiping his nose with a bored expression on his face. He stared at the used projectile for a moment.
"Well, that's a cool power for me to have," he announced finally. "Sneezin' bullets." Cave blinked a couple of times, groaning VERY loudly as she turned into a car park.
"London, that's not a power, that's a sign that you've still got munitions lodged in your body," she said sternly. "That's likely to be the last one from your head, but you must still be careful due to the others that remain elsewhere." Jack grunted, pulling himself up into a low crouch.
"Alright, fair enough," he sighed, scratching his head as the van finally came to a stop, "It was funny, though." Cave rolled her eyes, setting the van into park, and prompting all three to exit the vehicle.
The surroundings to the range were very much like the rest of the town: Alarmingly empty. This street was totally devoid of any parked cars or people, and the car park was situated right on a T-junction in the road that went down yet another set of stores and apartments. Again, Cave grimaced, squinting as she looked around the sun-soaked area.
"I really do not like this town," she declared, adjusting her skirt and beginning to slowly walk towards the range entrance. It wasn't very brightly marked; Just a sign beside the door.
NOKEYA KNOCKDOWN
TARGET SHOOTING
FIREARM STORAGE
PERSONAL TUITION
Jack raised a brow slightly. "Y'know," he began, dropping in line with the two girls, "For a shootin' range run by a literal Goddess, you'd think it might be a bit more..."
"Less disgusting?" Chika suggested, her eyes watching as a stray, tiny Dogoo bounced away with a fish skeleton from a nearby bin. "This place is kind of a dump. My darling Vert says she got her tidiness from her mother; There is simply no way that this is where she lives." Cave sniffed slightly.
"We'll find out." At this, she reached forward and pulled the entrance door open, gesturing for her two charges to enter. Jack went first, then Chika, with Cave slipping in behind them and closing the door.
Inside, it wasn't particularly incredible. The place looked like the average lobby to a U.S-style shooting range; Cramped, with a large desk and a door to the left of it. On the desk, a small radio played a rather static-y set of rock music, and the ceiling fan above made a surprisingly loud whoosh as it span. Behind the counter, there was another door – one which Jack noted was very tall. That being said...the ceiling was tall, too. Easily about nine foot.
"This is definitely the place," he said, glancing about. In front of the counter, there was a set of steps, but he avoided them in favour of going to the right of them in order to ring a bell for attention. It was only a moment before through the doorway in front of him, there came a voice.
"I'll be there in a minute!" called a rather Vert-esque voice. Even yelling carried a remarkable level of grace to it. Jack looked over his shoulder at Cave and Chika, who each gave him an equally worried look. Chewing his lip for a second, he turned his head back, and decided to tidy himself up quickly.
He ran his fingers through his black-brown (and slightly grey) hair, adjusted his jacket lapels, and dusted himself off, then put his hands behind his back and stood up straight. At that, both ladies behind him followed suit, making sure they were presentable.
Cave had never even known that Lady Vert's mother was still alive. And to be one of the few who gets the honour of meeting her...well, that was simply another feather in her cap – a cap which already looked like Eddie Izzard's feather boa.
Chika was already pretty thrilled. She'd been concerned as of late that her dearest was losing faith in her. But to send her to not only meet, but pick up her mother? THAT disproved it all. Vert still liked her, and her smug self-satisfaction would have no other answers.
Jack was more nervous than he really should have been. He'd already met Noire's mum, but Noire's mum was way shorter than him; Nearly Uni's size. Why the absolute fuck was Vert's mum apparently meant to be super tall? Was that why Vert was taller than the other CPUs? He didn't know.
And goddammit, of course she was gonna be taller than him. Last guy who was taller than him was decked out in an entire Toyota Hilux as armour and could move faster than he could blink.
He licked his lips briefly as footsteps became apparent behind the door.
He hoped she was just like Vert.
At this thought, the door opened, and the three people in the lobby braced up slightly, expecting to nearly have to bow at the grace of their Goddess' mother.
It was as soon as that door opened that Jack was immediately greeted by the sight of the most...elegant...hoodie...he'd ever seen...?
A hoodie?
He assessed the colossus before him: She definitely looked like Vert, with the gentle blue eyes, gorgeous blonde hair that flowed to her waist, and an elegant face dotted gently with freckles and that slight age that came with being an older lady. Her chest – likely something passed down to Vert – was just as large as her daughter's, most likely even larger considering she seemed to be a perfect upscaling of Leanbox's current ruler.
Truth be told, she was incredibly pleasant on the eyes.
It then went without saying that her apparel gave a different impression: She was wearing what might as well have been casual clothes. A black hooded Letterman jacket with green stripes and trim, a pair of 'mom jeans', and what seemed to be heeled cowboy boots on her feet.
And, of course, strapped to both of her thighs were the biggest fucking revolvers Jack had ever seen in his entire goddamn life. The things were EASILY 75% of the length of his entire arm, and decorated with light gold trimmings that seemed to have scratched away over time.
The woman herself, however, simply stepped silently behind the counter and looked down on Jack. From his perspective, she had a light positioned above her head. Undoubtedly from a shorter person's view, her face would be silhouetted by the light, giving her either a heavenly or potentially intimidating aura.
Jack swallowed slightly, looking up at her. "Hello, there," he began finally, channelling his inner Obi-Wan. The woman kept her gentle smile, and nodded slowly but surely.
"Good afternoon, sir," she replied warmly, seemingly eyeing him up as she spoke. "How can I help a stranger, today?"
"Well, I can only assume you're who we've come lookin' for," he said calmly. "Your daughter told us you were very tall." Her facial expression didn't change.
"I don't have a daughter," came her polite response. "But I do thank you for commenting on my height." Jack just raised a brow.
"You're not Lady Vert's mother?" he asked, genuinely unconvinced. The towering lady seemingly thought for a moment, and stuck out her lower lip.
"If I was the mother of the serving Leanbox CPU, sir, don't you think I'd be living in more...lavish accommodations?" came her gentle response. "Somewhere a bit less out-of-the-way, perhaps?" Steadily, she leaned forwards onto the counter, keeping her smile as she levelled herself with Jack's height and positioned her face not even a foot from his.
He resisted every urge to step back, remembering what Lady Vert had said: Don't be intimidated.
Holding firm, he moved his left hand to his pocket, and his other to hang loose. "Self-imposed exile, no?" he suggested, prompting her smirk to grow a fraction. "You would've run Leanbox for so long that there's probably an entire division of Lastation's black ops unit dedicated to findin' you and takin' you out." She narrowed her eyes slightly at him.
"Well, now, that certainly is quite the theory," came the almost prepared response, "But I'm afraid if you came all the way out to Nokeya in order to find someone who's probably not there, bothering a doppelganger will get you nowhere." She stood to her full height again, then looked at Cave and Chika, who both tensed considerably. "Ah? You brought some friends?"
Jack nodded. "Yes, ma'am," he replied, gesturing to the two. "This is Cave, and this is Chika Hakozaki." At the latter's name, the woman before them seemed more interested, folding her arm beneath her gigantic rack and stroking her chin as Jack continued. "Chika's the current servin'-"
"- Oracle of Leanbox. Yes, I'm aware..." murmured the blonde. There seemed to be a hesitation before she spoke again. "...if I may ask, what brings the second-in-command of Gamindustri's most successful country out into the scablands between her nation, and Lowee?" Jack said nothing, and looked at Chika.
The Oracle swallowed hard, then spoke. "U-Um, w-well, I...I was sent here by my darling, V-Vert," came her shaky response, reaching behind her for the envelope with invitation details on it. "She wanted me to...to give this. To, um, her mother." The woman said nothing further, continuing to thumb at her chin and assess the trio before her.
Finally, she extended a graceful hand. "May I see the letter?" she asked. Chika blinked a few times.
"U-Uh, well, you see, it's for my darling Vert's mother, so-"
"Then it's fine," the woman cut in. "I'm the intended recipient. My name is Sigrun: I am Vert's mother." As Chika shakily stepped forward and gave her the letter, Jack folded his arms.
"You literally just said you weren't Vert's mum," he said flatly. Sigrun just shrugged, slicing the wax seal of the letter with a fingernail and flipping it open.
"I do need to try and keep my location pretty down-low," she said calmly, scanning the paper. "The only people in Leanbox who know I'm here are my daughter, and, apparently, you three." Jack raised a brow, unconvinced.
"That was arguably the worst attempt at disguising who you are that I've ever seen."
"What gave it away?"
Jack just let out a 'pfft'. "You've got blonde hair, blue eyes, and giant-"
"Guns," Cave interrupted, immediately gaining the attention of both of them. "You carry large guns. Lady Vert said you were fond of guns." Sigrun slowly nodded in understanding, returning to reading. Her attention distracted, Cave shot Jack a serious look, gesturing to her own chest before doing the cut-off hand gesture at her throat, mouthing the words "Do not speak about her chest".
Jack just nodded understandingly. "So..." he began. "What made you leave Leanbox?"
"Boredom."
"Really?"
"Mmhmm. My beloved daughter was always too busy in her room to make time for me, so I decided to move out of the basilicom." Chika's ears pricked up.
"She's always done that?" she asked. Sigrun nodded.
"Yes, she has," sighed the older lady, seemingly a bit upset. "There came a point where she just stopped accepting my help and did things on her own, then stopped letting me into her room...so I moved out here. She obviously wanted space: Don't all teenagers?"
Jack just shrugged. "Not really," he replied casually. "A lot of teenagers hang with their parents, nowadays."
Sigrun paused, eyeing over Jack again. "Your teenage years must have been thirty years ago. You can't comment, can you?" she asked.
At this, he closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing his forehead as Cave and Chika began smirking. "No...no, I'm...I'm not middle-aged," he replied exasperatedly, "That's...a common misconception." Sigrun gave a loud 'tut', shaking her head as she returned to reading the invite. Apparently she wasn't as fast at reading as Noire's mum.
"Denying it makes you look silly," she scolded. "Even I have the honesty to admit that physically, I'm around forty-five years old. You must be...what, forty eight? Fifty?" Chika chewed her lip, trying not to laugh. She leaned over to Cave again, the two being far enough across the room that Sigrun wouldn't hear over Jack's mumblings.
"That's the oldest guess, yet," she giggled quietly, Cave nodding in agreement with her own smirk on her lips.
Jack leaned onto the counter, scratching the back of his head. To his pleasure, it was actually at a comfortable height for him to lean on. "No...you're, um, about thirty years too far ahead, unfortunately," he said finally. "I'm about nineteen, maybe twenty." Sigrun had finished reading at this point, slotting the letter into her jacket pocket, then folding her arms to look down at the man before her. Now she seemed unconvinced.
"Two things: One, my daughter wouldn't send a teenager to do an Oracle's job," she quipped, "And two, your mother must be very proud to have you as a son, especially when you have such a build at your age."
Cave inhaled briefly. Didn't Lady Noire advise her not to ask about his parents?
Jack, however, remained composed. "Well, the fact remains that both of those statements are wrong, I'm afraid. I'm here with Oracle Hakozaki to pick you up, I am that old, and I permanently lost contact with my parents when I was younger." It took a moment for Sigrun to register, then slowly nodded, her face softening slightly.
"I...I see. My deepest sympath-"
"No need for them, and it ain't the point," Jack interrupted. "Point is, your daughter has brokered a treaty with the other nations." He turned to Chika. "Should say that in the letter, I presume?" The Oracle just gave him a shrug of her own.
"I'm not sure," she replied, "Lady Vert didn't let me read it before she sealed it." Jack pursed his lips, at looked back to the old goddess in front of him, who was now leaned against the counter with her left hip, arms folded.
"It did say that, right?" he asked her, gesturing to her. Sigrun scratched her chin briefly, smirking.
"You really are trying to undersell yourself, aren't you?" she asked suddenly. Jack raised a brow, about to speak, then lowered his hand. "From what that letter tells me, you forced the brokering of the treaty, and have been taking names left and right for my beloved daughter. Not to mention, I'd heard rumours that you, your friends, and an as-of-yet unidentified individual absolutely tore up a terror attack on a skyscraper in Planeptune." She reached down and picked up the letter, waving it slightly with a mischievous smirk, before unfolding. "The fact that my daughter wrote – and I quote – 'the charming man delivering the letter is arguably one of the most beloved heroes of modern Leanbox society, and one of my most treasured friends, for his will of incorruptible steel, heart of gold, rugged good looks, and tongue of silver' seems to indicate she views you in rather good favour, and that I should do the same."
Cave leaned herself to the left slightly, and concealed a smirk: London had gone absolutely crimson at the praise. Though, in fairness, Lady Vert had written what may as well have been an awards-ceremony speech in regards to him. Such commendation from a nigh-immortal Goddess and ruler of a nation would make anyone swell with pride, but in London's case, for some reason, he seemed to be rather embarrassed.
The man swallowed hard, trying to adjust to a natural state, before finally cracking out the pose taught to him by a CIA official a year before, tucking his thumbs into his belt loops and spreading his stance slightly. "W-Well, uh, yes, maybe she did write that," he stammered, "But, um, I'm...we're not here to be talkin' about that stuff..." He paused. "...wait, did she SERIOUSLY write 'rugged good looks'? D-Damn, uh...w-wow. That's...well, um...wow."
Cave rolled her eyes, and finally opted to step forward, pushing the stammering London to the side. "Lady Sigrun, if you don't mind me cutting off Mr. Casanova and asking another question," she began, "We have intel suggesting that a number of rogue elements have set up a basecamp in this town." Sigrun gave a quizzical look, then let out a gasp, smiling.
"Oh! You must be referring to my new soldiers!" she replied almost casually. Jack stopped being such an elated schoolboy over someone saying he was marginally attractive, and immediately hardened his gaze.
"Your new soldiers?" he asked. "How're they your new soldiers?"
Sigrun just gave another condescending, mother-knows-best smile down at him. "You might be amazed that giving them a warm welcome and shelter after protecting them from an Elder Low-Lean Duneworm will generally put people into your debt," she declared. "There's two hundred and thirty eight soldiers, here. All of them are at around your height, carry similar mannerisms to you, and appear to be from a place not found in Gamindustri. Am I correct in assuming that these men are connected to you, in some way?"
Jack silently nodded, prompting Sigrun to smirk and stand up to her full height.
"Then I can only imagine that before we...head out, as it were, you may wish to visit the Lieutenant-Commander, first? He's one of the highest ranking officials under my command. I trust that he must have a few choice words for you." Jack gave another nod.
"So you're comin' with us?" he asked. Sigrun simply began walking to the door, and crouched slightly to reach the handle and let her guests through.
"Of course I am," she replied, the three following along behind. "But first, I must call off the attack dogs that await you." As they walked outside, Sigrun reached for a radio unseen on her hip, and dialled it in.
Meanwhile, Jack, Chika, and Cave stepped outside. By this time, the sun was already starting to dip, dropping the area into the deep orange gloom of the desert. Jack stepped out first.
"Well, that was a lot easier than I expected," he chuckled, turning to Cave. "And I got called 'good lookin'' by Lady Vert, and the rogue guys from the Project are under her control. I'd chalk this up as a win." The trio moved to the middle of the car park, and Cave folded her arms as they came to a stop.
"Yes, well, now we just need to figure out how to get her into the van."
Jack opened his mouth to speak.
"Shotgun," Chika declared, raising a hand immediately. Jack let out a groan as the door behind them swung open for Sigrun to join them.
"Fuck, c'mon!" the man cried, frustrated, throwing his arms apart slightly. He didn't seem to pay heed as Sigrun stepped up alongside him. "There's only one chair in the back of the van! Where the Hell do I sit?" As if to answer his point, the towering woman beside him decided to put her arm around his head and pull him towards her in a rather friendly hug.
"Would you like to share the seat?" she suggested warmly, smiling. "Either you can sit on my lap, or I can sit on yours." Jack offered no real response, still slightly frozen in a mix of terror, happiness, and confusion. Cave and Chika just stared up in bewilderment at the sunset-lit former CPU.
"You've...warmed up to him fast, Lady Sigrun," Chika noted, scratching her head at the fact that she was the only person who could easily pull their formerly 'very tall' companion into a chest hug. "You don't have to give him the seat." Sigrun just shrugged slightly, running her fingers through the young man's hair whilst he was practically headlocked.
"Well, I don't, but it'd only be polite," she replied. "After all, you'd think my dearest daughter would be considerate enough to send a van with four seats instead of three, so clearly I must be some form of cargo or baggage, no? Such is what happens when your children don't need to rely on you, anymore, you get considered as 'baggage' and they eventually abandon you."
Chika cast a worried glance to Cave as Sigrun sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head onto Jack.
Were things about to get deep?
"Oh! The agony of a mother who lacks the warmth of a child to protect!" Sigrun continued melodramatically, before gesturing to London, who by now had gone limp due to suffocation. "And this young man, lacking a parent to look up to and desire to make proud! As my darling Vert has ignored my desires as her mother to protect her and coddle her, I must simply project them onto the nearest orphan: Truly, this almost-middle-aged-looking young man has been more of a blessing than she anticipated!"
Cave frowned slightly. "You're...you're adopting him," she said flatly. "Within ten minutes of meeting him." Sigrun just nodded, pouting, once more brushing Jack's hair. He didn't argue. He was unconscious.
"As I said, Miss Cave," replied the former CPU, "I have had my motherly instincts lying dormant for many years, with nobody to project them onto."
"Just drop it on your soldiers, then," Chika cut in impatiently, gesturing to the van. "Now, can we please just go back to-?"
"Those are grown adults, Oracle!" Sigrun cried, tightening her protective cuddle of an unconscious man, with what were probably crocodile tears forming in the corners of her eyes. "This young man has lost his parents, and has yet to even have his twentieth birthday! It is my sworn duty as a mother to protect him from all harm and see to it that he is warm, loved, and happy! I have so many years of mothering that I must serve, and if my own daughter refuses it, I'll give it to this young man!"
Cave's eye twitched at the word 'protect', and her proclaimation that she was going to be sure he was safe and happy.
That was her job.
Just before Cave could open her mouth to speak, Chika groaned loudly in a rather un-ladylike manner, throwing her head back in frustration. "Oh, come on, Lady Sigrun, with all due respect, it is eight in the evening and it took us THREE HOURS to get here!" she yelled. "Can you PLEASE just get in the back of the van?!"
Both the Goddess and the bodyguard stared at her in disbelief.
Finally, she sighed, noticing Sigrun's expression darkening slightly.
"You...you can use him as a...uh, cuddle-toy...if...uh, that's what you want."
Cave held her tongue but wanted to scream at Chika for using her protectee and best friend as a bargaining chip.
Slowly but surely, Sigrun smiled again, adjusting her grip on the limp man in her arms.
"Unlock the doors and I shall climb in."
A half hour later...
After picking up Sigrun's 'bug-out formal-event' bag from her (noticeably modest) home in Nokeya, the Goddess had radioed in to her 'Lieutenant Commander' and told him 'Mama's gone for cigarettes'. Apparently, even though none of the trio had seen them, the troops under Sigrun's command had noted every movement that they had made since coming within fifteen miles of Nokeya itself.
And after driving for twenty minutes, Chika had done nothing but think how she really couldn't help but feel bad for Cave.
Less to do with the fact that they'd really dicked her about for this little escapade, but more to do with the fact that she knew how dragon-like Cave could be with her protectees. There was even a point where she'd physically fought off not one, but two PERSIAN troopers because they tried to muscle in on a close-protection job for Leanbox's old President.
Thus far, Chika had never seen Cave get on with someone as well as she did with London. She was such a mix of being protective and friendly that she was pretty sure Cave would probably feed him, if he'd let her. And that wasn't even in consideration of the fact that she'd caught them cuddling under a blanket, and that London had started giving her personal massages.
Right now, Chika could practically see a vein bulging on the older lady's forehead as she kept a near-subzero glare on Sigrun, who was currently cradling London in her arms in a very maternal hug.
The Oracle really couldn't say anything to Cave, because one of the four Elder Goddesses was sat in the back of their shitty ten-year-old Leanbox Army van. Though, she would probably have to take Cave to the bar the next day, to cool off.
It'd be in the actual interests of national security to not have a woman who legally doesn't exist trying to kick the shit out of a beloved Goddess that most civilians thought was dead.
Hence, she remained silent, and looked at some of the officially-mandated emergency Yaoi morale-boost packs that were in the glovebox in front of her, as was traditional in all Leanboxian military vehicles.
In the back of the van, Jack stirred from his asphyxiation-imposed slumber, and blearily opened his eyes, groaning. He grimaced, and moved his hand to his head, wincing at the absolutely splitting headache he now had. "C-Christ...what...what happened...?" he mumbled, trying to get his bearings.
He was in the van? Did Chika and Cave put him in here?
He remembered meeting Sigrun, then a few words, then suddenly he...what happened?
His jacket was laid on the floor beside them, so he was down to his black undershirt, but...what could he feel on his arms?
It was then that he noticed an arm underneath his right armpit, wrapped over his chest, the hand clutching the left of his ribcage and another arm doing the opposite. Wrapped over the top of his legs were a much longer pair of womanly legs, and his head felt...cushioned.
"Oh, you're awake?" came a sudden voice from behind him. "You had me worried, there. I would hate for anything to have happened to you after we just met, by my hands, no less. Are you feeling OK?"
It took Jack a moment to process the voice before he started moving slowly. "Lady...Lady Sigrun, what're you doin'?" he asked cautiously, trying to remove her grip. Instead, as if to display that she was quite literally his physical superior, she shifted her positioning and quite easily rotated the smaller man to sit sideways on her lap with the most minimal effort.
He looked terrified.
"There, there," she said soothingly, immediately pulling him into another hug and placing a hand atop his head to gently scratch his crown. "Is that more comfortable, for you? You'll tell me if you're uncomfortable, won't you?"
Chika glanced in the mirror to see his reaction, and he was already shaking slightly.
"Y...Y-Yes..." he mumbled, staring ahead with a look of trauma usually reserved for combat hospital residents. Sigrun just smiled.
"D'aww, lighten up, you've nothing to be worried about," she cooed, "I've heard about your tower adventure and those beyond. You're such a brave young man, aren't you? Lose it all at a young age and build yourself into a man? I'm not your mother...but I do feel very proud, of you."
Jack just swallowed, before slightly relaxing his pose and moving his hands slowly up to his chest.
Chika chewed her lip.
'Oh, no, she's gotten into his head, already.'
"U-Um...th-thanks," the man murmured, still with a hint of unease in his voice. "Why...why the hug, though?" Sigrun gave a loud 'tut', before pushing him back slightly to look down into his eyes, smiling warmly.
"Oh, come now, there's no harm in a bit of cuddling, is there?" she asked innocently. "Besides, we have all the time in the world to get to know each other, don't we? Why not learn more in a position you secretly find most endearing: As the little spoon?"
At this, Chika heard both London sputtering nervously, Sigrun gently shushing him, and a slight cracking from the driver's seat, and turned to look at the latter.
Cave was gripping the steering wheel so hard that the wood was beginning to splinter beneath her fingertips, and she seemed to be clenching her jaw.
Chika sucked air through her teeth and looked forwards again, as she debated whether the cracking noise was coming from the breaking steering wheel, or Cave's gritted teeth. The Oracle's answer came soon enough.
"Only. I. Can do that," Cave snarled quietly, glaring ahead at the road.
Chika, not knowing what other precaution she could feasibly take, just plugged in her seatbelt for once, in the event Cave decided to drive the van off the road and into a ditch. "Oh, now this is going to be a dangerous character dynamic..." she muttered to herself.
Finally, she decided to pull out her phone and get advice from some of her closest friends
Me: hey
Me: captain flamboyant
Me: question
Blonde Gay: Please stop calling me that. And what do you want?
Me: so we just picked up someone important
Me: and its me, cave, and london
Blonde Glasses Gay: What the Hell have you got me saved on your phone as?
Me: shut up, im askin the fuckin questions here
Me: anyway
Me: woman we picked up has immediately decided shes like londons new mom
Me: and shes in the back of the van holding him like a child
Blonde Glasses Gay: Does my name on your phone have anything to do with my sexuality, in it?
Me: lmao
Me: mega queer solid 3 – trouser snake eater
Blonde Glasses Gay: You're an absolute disgrace to politicians everywhere, Oracle.
Me: lol
YOU HAVE BEEN BLOCKED BY: MONOPLIE, JOSHUA -
Chika chewed her lip for a moment.
Damn, she approached that wrong. Maybe she could try someone else.
Me: hey its me the police, open ur caravan
Pikey: what the fuck you never message me and immediately call me a gypsy what do you want
Me: londons getting coddled by lady verts mom and i need advice on what to do
Pikey: is she fit
Me: ?
Pikey: how fit is verts mum
Me: dunno if she goes to the gym or not
Me: if thats what you mean?
Pikey: no like how fat is her arse and tits
Me: what
Pikey: is she a MILF
Me: will you just listen to my question
Pikey: not answering yours until you answer mine is she a MILF or not?
Me: you're a massive talentless spud-faced chancer
Pikey: fuck off at least im not trying to suck off a 19 year old you fuckin pedo
Me: you just asked if lady verts mother is a 'MILF'
Me: and then you go and complain that i sometimes jokingly flirt with london because he either laughs with it or shrivels up
Me: both being equally as funny
Pikey: fuckin aye i do
Me: you want a several thousand year old goddess to slurp on your fuckin kebab meat pole
Me: but me grabbing londons crotch and licking his ear is too much because of an eight year age gap
Pikey: yeah it is you absolute weirdo
Me: fucking goddess above, no wonder you ran out of things to eat despite your home country being surrounded by fish
Me: you absolute window-licker
Me: who the fuck gave you a fuckin machine gun and grenade launcher
Me: i wouldn't trust you with a goddamn crayon
YOU HAVE BEEN BLOCKED BY: BLACK, LUCAS -
Yeah, she was definitely going about this wrong.
Me: what up
Raider of the Lost Hairline: heyyyyyyy how's it going?
Me: doing good
Me: OK so mr. black and mr. blonde werent much use so im asking you
Raider of the Lost Hairline: is mr. blonde london?
Me: nah hes who im asking you about
Raider of the Lost Hairline: just before we continue, i'm gonna say i used to watch a lot of tarantino movies
Raider of the Lost Hairline: and i think josh fits more as the gimp than mr. Blonde
Me: idk what that means but yeah monoplie is shit lmao
Raider of the Lost Hairline: jack reminds me of like that one german soldier in inglorious basterds who just started killing other germans for no reason
Raider of the Lost Hairline: OH SHIT I NEED TO TELL HIM THAT LMAOOOOO IT WAS ONE OF OUR FAVOURITE MOVIES BECAUSE IT HAD HITLER IN IT
Me: who the fuck is hitler
The silence after that message said it all.
He was either typing an essay, or just so angry he dropped his phone.
Was Hitler meant to be a good guy from Earth, or something? Chika had no idea, but presumably, that meant asking Hillman was out of the question. As such, she turned to one of her last resorts.
Me: flyboyyyyyy
Plane Hoe: Yeeees?
Me: londons being inappropriately coddled by verts mum
Me: cave is getting angry because presumably she wants exclusive inappropriate coddling rights over him
Me: i am stuck in a van with them for the next two and a bit hours
Me: actuallywhat do
Plane Hoe: Wait for them to fight and record it.
Plane Hoe: Or wait for them both to inappropriately coddle him at once and then record it.
Me: sounds like a plan but theres an issue
Plane Hoe: What is it?
Me: i think cave is probably gonna either start a fight or try establishing dominance in some other way and i don't know which idea scares me more
Plane Hoe: So, wait, what's going on? Is this like a love triangle? I didn't think this was that type of story.
Me: oh no, don't worry it's not
Me: i doubt that'll happen unless there's like audience outcry or a spam of requests to the author or some shit
Plane Hoe: Phew. But that being said, what is it, then?
Me: i really don't know how it works
Me: either they're both gonna try being overly protective of him because bodyguard vs mom instincts
Me: or they'll just double down on trying to make him view one of them as more like his protector than the other
Plane Hoe: ...this is a protection triangle?
Me: like i say i've got no idea
Me: but i'm getting worried that cave might try and force herself because shes super protective
Me: like sneaking into his bed at night or some shit
Plane Hoe: I don't know if London'll like that. Pretty sure he hates being touched when he's sleeping.
Me: LMAO I FORGOT YOU HAVENT HEARD THE GOSSIP
Plane Hoe: Oh, boy, here we go.
Me: wait shiiiit i don't think london wants too many people knowing
Me: fuck ill just just have to tell you in front of him because we're like the two people he'd never attack
Me: btw where are you and the other three dorks?
Plane Hoe: I've been practicing for that flypast. I think James and Luke are in Lowee. And I have no clue where Josh is. Not in trouble, though, I assure you.
Me: noice
Me: OK when you have time off swing by the basilicom to hang with me and london tomorrow
Me: gonna drop some juicy gossip on you
Plane Hoe: Can't wait. See you then.
Chika smiled at Chaz's actual usefulness.
Record it, he says?
She frowned at the screen, just then coming back to reality.
Her eyes immediately drifted over to Cave. She then realized that Cave was wearing her set of headphones, and the rear-view mirror had tape over it so she couldn't see behind her. Probably for the better, really.
Then, the Oracle turned around to see what London was doing. Deep inside, she'd been half-expecting Sigrun to have started trying to breastfeed him, or something. Thankfully, it was a lot less lewd than that.
Sigrun had removed a hairbrush from her bag, with London sat cross-legged in front of her, and she was tidying through his remarkably long hair and trying to style it into something more manageable. Thus far, it seemed to be taking shape as some kind of really weird-looking semi-pompadour.
'Of course,' Chika mused internally, 'They only trimmed his facial hair in hospital, not his actual hair.'
All the while, Sigrun was asking him questions about himself, to which he was answering fairly calmly, seemingly enjoying the fact that she was playing with his hair.
Chika really had no idea how to respond to this. She had absolutely no words to try and figure out what went on in London's head to make him so prone to violence yet open to tenderness.
She instead decided to whip out her phone, carefully slot it between her seat and its' headrest, and leave it to record the interactions, both for study, and to show Lady Vert later on.
Vert would definitely want to see this.