This was more than likely one of the first times that any member of basilicom staff had seen both a current and former CPU in the same room, and the absolute silence showed it. For the first time in a while, too, Jack was not in the room, and neither was Cave, as the former was getting ready for a TV appearance and the latter was having a well-deserved day off.
Hence, Vert didn't have her two favourite confidence-boosters by her side as she stood at the bottom of the basilicom's main staircase, and the nervousness on her face was quite plain to see. Approaching before her was Sigrun: Easily three heads taller than her, walking down the main carpet into the building properly.
She'd taken a guest room quietly the night before, almost having to be dragged away from London after insisting she 'protect her son' overnight. This morning, she had donned her much more formal clothes; Her hair was plaited similarly to her daughter's, she was wearing a blouse top with frills, and a set of simple trousers with a much more extravagant set of holsters on her legs.
Most noticeably, she was wearing a rather stern expression.
She now carried even more grace than the day before, walking steadily into the room and coming to a complete stop in front of her daughter. Vert kept eye contact, but was quite clearly putting on a bold face for her countless gathered staff members. The room was absolutely silent as they looked at each other.
Finally, Sigrun spoke. "Hello, Vert," she began calmly.
Vert swallowed, and nodded. "He-Hello, mother." Sigrun kept her even stare, hands behind her back whilst looking down her nose at her offspring.
"I trust you've been keeping well?"
"U-Um...yes, yes I have, thank you."
Sigrun looked left and right slightly, then back at Vert. "You've redecorated, I see."
Vert licked her lips slightly, scratching her jowl. "Well...yes, but only...only the staff. The, um, staff are all different to when you were here a hundred years ago." Sigrun narrowed her eyes.
"And what happened to the old staff?"
Vert blinked.
"P-Pardon, mother?"
"Where are the old staff members I had?"
Vert had no idea how to answer, looking around slightly to try and find a solution. Many of the staff members could feel a chill roll through the room.
Eventually, after thirty seconds, Sigrun slowly smiled at her child's flustering. "I'm only teasing, dear." Vert stopped, and pouted slightly.
"Aw, moooother..." she whined. A few of the butlers and maids around the place broke into light chuckling, before the room finally went into applause as Sigrun stepped forward to embrace her daughter.
"I've missed you so much, darling," sighed the elder Goddess, crouching to rest Vert's head on her chest. "You have a lot to tell me about." Vert smiled at her mom's hug, reciprocating warmly.
"Yes...yes, I do."
Meanwhile, across the basilicom...
Jack was rather surprised to find that he looked good in a suit.
As he stood in front of the mirror, he noted the perfect fit of the very dark grey two-piece he'd ordered that a maid had delivered to him, and that no matter what he did, he felt absolutely no fabric tension that could lead to a rip. He could even raise his arms over his head without distorting the blazer too much, or pulling the collar up to ruffle his hair.
That, too, was different, courtesy of Sigrun: She'd spent the whole journey brushing his hair and running through it with a myriad of things from her bag, forming it into some strange cross between a contour and a pompadour, an almost 60's-esque style that had long been overwritten by trendy cunts with undercuts.
The grey hairs forming near the bottom of his hair faded nicely into the rest of the blonde-brown covering his head, adding a very strong appearance of maturity that he hadn't considered until Cave's input a few days before.
Sigrun had made absolutely sure that his hair was 'presentable', cooing into his ear that he was a handsome young man all the while, so he was pretty sure that it was nice.
All things considered? He figured he would have done better as a politician, if only for the fact that he looked pretty nice in a suit.
Just as he began to consider posing with the .44 in front of the mirror, there was a knock at the door. He'd almost come to expect it: Every time he started considering doing something laughable, someone would always knock on the door, as if some ulterior force was dictating it to happen as a means of progressing some kind of story they had going on.
Nevertheless, Jack cleared his throat, and turned to face the door. "Uh, come in!" he called out, beginning to pace slightly. And, as she had done a few days before, Chika stepped into the room, but without even a hint of the nervous air she'd had the last time. Jack smirked, leaning on the doorframe of the en-suite and gesturing to himself. "Come to see me in a suit?"
The Oracle just laughed, putting her hand on her hip and stroking her chin with the other. "Well, I must say, I'm impressed," she chuckled. "Never thought you'd look any good dressed like a school headmaster, yet here you are. Comfy?"
"Aye, not too bad," Jack replied, giving a few test arm movements to punctuate. "Doesn't feel like it's gonna rip, which is pretty bloody impressive." Chika stuck out a lip approvingly, moving across the room to see it close-up.
"Well, that's always a plus. How much did it set you back?"
"One hundred thousand Credits."
"Fuck, really?" she whistled. "Quite the investment." Jack shrugged as she began poking at the lapels.
"Well, it's got a lifetime guarantee and can regenerate itself over time, apparently. Besides, it was fifty percent off." For the briefest moment, Jack witnessed that specific sparkle cross through the much shorter woman's eyes.
"I'd rather see it one hundred percent off," came her near instant innuendo, moving her hands towards the belt. Jack caught her in the act immediately.
"Hey, ease off, you've not even bought me dinner, yet," he smirked, moving her hands away. His older counterpart just pouted, folding her arms.
"Well, you've got the outfit for a dinner date, now," she said sarcastically, before smiling again. "Besides, I've got something else you can eat: Just lie down, and face up." Jack rolled his eyes.
"You're on fuckin' point with these today, aren't you?" he groaned, yet still smirking as he put his hands in his pockets. Chika just raised her brow, still smiling.
"You're not turning down the offer like you normally do, so I'll take it as a sign you might be up for it soon."
There was a brief silence as Jack stared her down, going a bit red but still smiling.
"What did you come in here for?" he asked finally. Chika rolled her eyes as he changed the topic, but persevered.
"Came in here to see if you were either naked, or dressed. Not fussed either way." She pouted. "Guess I was a few minutes too late for the good stuff. Anyway, they want you at the TV studios downtown at seven o'clock; Probably rehearsals or basic introductions or something. You go live at nine."
Jack nodded. "Right. How many viewers they expectin'?" Chika shrugged.
"Dunno. Not familiar with TV figure fluctuations. Dengekiko usually gets about two or three million viewers for the show, but that'll probably go up when people start Nepbooking to their friends that you're on TV." Jack tilted his head side to side, beginning to guide Chika to the door.
"So...big deal. People don't know about this beforehand?"
"Nope. Surprise appearance by you and your friends. Got the weird magician, kickboxer, and that really hot tomboy doing interviews early in the day, too, along with others. You haven't seen those guys in a while, huh?"
"Damn straight," Jack replied calmly. "Compa booked up some kind of tea and games night with a shitload of them but I dunno when that is. Anythin' else?" Chika shook her head.
Then, she realized that he'd managed to force her out into the corridor without her noticing. "H-Hey!" she cried huffily, "When did this happen?!"
Jack grinned. "About the same time you offered to sit on my face," he replied casually. The Oracle put her hands onto her hips in frustration.
"I do that all the time."
"Exactly. See you later, Chika."
"Fine, see you around," she groaned, turning to walk away as the large door clicked shut. It was only after about five seconds of trudging and contemplating whether it was possible to crack the large man's chastity when she realized that she may have gone a tad overboard. As she headed down the grand hallways towards her office, she entered moderately deep contemplation.
Was facesitting considered 'vanilla'?
Five minutes later...
She'd barely even put herself into the leather seat behind her desk when there came a knock at the door. Chika groaned, leaning on the desk and sighing whilst rubbing her eyes. "Fuck me, really, ALREADY...?" she grumbled. She paused for a second, sighed again, then straightened up, putting on a forced expression of neutrality. "Come in."
After a hesitation, the door handle twisted and the door swung open, revealing none other than...
"Cave?" Chika began, slightly stunned. "How, uh...hello. Hello, Cave."
There, in the doorway, was the black-ops operator in question, wearing a vest, jeans, and her hair plaited, a pair of designer shades nestled into her crimson strands. Her face, as ever, betrayed very few emotions, but the fact she was at Chika's office on a day off meant that she was upset, or worried.
Now the Oracle had to be worried.
"Hello, Lady Hakozaki," came the nonchalant reply. "May I enter?" Chika raised a brow, then cautiously gestured to the chair.
"Uh...sure, you...you don't need to ask. Take a seat, if you want."
With a slight nod, Cave strode in, closing the office door behind her in one motion, then sitting in the small oak chair in front of Chika's desk. She cleared her throat. "If I may, Oracle, I'd...I'd like to ask some questions."
Chika still had a rather confused look, until her eyes briefly widened and she sucked air through her teeth. "...the Leanbox government's second-best intelligence gatherer is asking me for information. That's...a first, I'll admit. What did you wanna ask?"
The usually stoic Cave's expression faltered for a second, then she sighed. "I...I need to ask you about...about, um..."
Chika gave a flat stare as Cave hesitated again, slowly raising a brow. "...aboooooout...?" she ushered.
"...I-I need to ask you about...about dresses."
There was silence again.
"...dresses?"
"Um...yes. N-Nice dresses. Like the ones you wear."
Chika couldn't help but develop a lightly amused smirk, leaning back into her large chair. "What, I thought you had that designer brand you always wear?" Cave shifted uncomfortably.
"W-Well...I wanted to figure out if there was a better dress that you'd recommend. If I wore my normal dress to any kind of formal affair, I would simply be wearing my work clothes, so...I-I want to look nice."
The Oracle was honestly rather surprised. It wasn't often she ever saw Cave feeling nervous or embarrassed, and it was quite clear that dressing nicely did mean a lot to her. Chika scratched her head, sucking air through her teeth. "Well, uh...I don't know what you wanted me to help you pick out. What's the dress for?"
At the first question, Cave immediately braced, going a bit red. "A...a formal affair..."
"No, no," Chika sighed, waving a hand dismissively, "Like, what's it for? The Treaty Celebration? Night out? Dinner date?" At the last point, the usually stoic woman froze like a deer in the headlights, letting out a small gasp. Chika glanced at her for a second, then contemplated it.
She reacted to 'dinner date'. Weird.
"I...I was hoping to get several uses out of it for several situations. The Treaty, and any other formal affairs."
"Uh-huh. Any colour and style preferences?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what colours would suit me...what exactly do you mean by 'style', Oracle?"
Chika gave a flat, almost unenthusiastic shrug. "Y'know, basic stuff. Knee length, ankle length, loose, tight fit, open front, open backed, or more conservative. That kind of thing." She smirked at the casually-dressed woman in front of her, doing the typical framing gesture with her fingers and putting Cave in the middle. "I mean, you ask me? I reckon you'd look an absolute bombshell in a red PVC miniskirt, fishnets, and a tube top."
At that, Cave let out a 'tch' of disgust. "Oracle, I said 'formal affair', not 'working the corner'. I was under the impression you would know what to wear for something more formal: You taught me that looking nice can have a positive impact on securing important deals."
Again, Chika shrugged, turning to the side and crossing her legs on her desk. "So can a night of meaningless sex with the company representatives and international ambassadors you were told to negotiate with," came her nonchalant reply, checking her nails idly. "What point are you making here, Cave?"
"I'm saying that I'd rather look presentable. It'd be unbecoming for me to attend anywhere with some modicum of class dressed like a tramp." Chika sucked air though her teeth slowly.
"Ouch, point taken," she muttered. "Well, how many days off do you have? I can head out shopping with you, if you want. Lady Vert always has me with her when she's out clothes shopping, so I know all the best labels. Sometimes, she even lets me feel her knuckles when I peek into the changing room that she's in." Cave thought for a moment.
"I think I have a few stocked up."
Chika gave an encouraging gesture. "Weeeell? How many?"
"Perhaps about four hundred and forty-nine days."
"Four hundred and forty-nine? Do you even TAKE holidays?"
Cave sheepishly looked down. "I...I admit to taking a day off seven years ago due to a snapped leg."
Chika was aghast. "You...you took one day off because of a snapped leg."
"Yes. I apologize."
"It can take months to walk on a snapped leg again, Cave. It's agonizing."
"It wasn't too bad. I walked it off."
Chika kept her stunned look.
She knew Cave was tough, but holy shit.
Was she even a human? Brief thoughts of Cave shrugging off bullets, cigar burns, and judgement from people danced through her head.
Perhaps she was a machine. A machine with really nice boobs.
"Well, whatever, just line up some holiday time and hit me up when you wanted to go shopping." Cave gave a respectful nod.
"Thank you, Oracle. I appreciate the advice. I do wish to look impressive for the events."
Chika's eyelids narrowed a bit. There it was again.
Cave was hiding something.
Time for the subtle approach.
"So who's the lucky guy?"
Cave hesitated, and Chika internally gave a very smug smirk.
'Oh, I've got you now.'
"...I beg your pardon?" came the soldier's response. Chika just smirked.
"There is no way you are not doing this to impress someone," she continued, stroking her chin. "Is it Mr. Loondumb? You're definitely trying to hit on Mr. Loondumb." Cave rolled her eyes.
"First of all, he prefers being called 'London' these days," she began, folding her arms. "Second of all, no."
Chika, with a smirk on her face, raised a brow in amusement. "No?"
Cave swallowed, and repeated herself. "N-No." The Oracle just chuckled lightly, stroking her chin.
"I dunno, you have been rather cozy with him, lately: Y'know, with all the cuddling and deep personal conversations in the front of the van when you thought I wasn't listening the other day?"
"A-Ah. You heard that."
Chika grinned, leaning back in her chair. "What was that? Something about him jolting awake at night from past trauma, and you being there to stroke his head and assure him that everything's OK? Or the bit where you asked him to take you to dinner? Oh, and that you're on a non-mister-and-miss basis, now? Just calling him by his name, huh?"
At each point, Cave shrivelled in the chair, trying to come up with excuses for the notes she had made.
Fuck, maybe trying to lie to a career politician was a bad idea.
"So...your, um, your point is?" Cave coughed nervously. "That's just because we're friends. That's what friends do." Chika gave an incredulous look, finally swinging her legs down onto the floor and leaning across the desk.
"Cave, I'M his friend, and me and him are nowhere near as close as you two are. Like, sure, he probably told you that I flashed him and he saw the fabled 'Gate to the Trade Deal' that I've got between my legs, and that I got him to give me topless massages, but you two routinely cuddle in bed, had each other's backs in a terrorist strike, and have deep, personal conversations that any half-competent author would have used to expand a romance between your characters."
Cave sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "Oracle, the dialogues we've had have in no way indicated a romantic route of any kind, especially not the R-18 route you seem to be suggesting we're headed down." Chika gave another smirk, sitting back again and folding her arms to stroke her chin in contemplation.
"Well, he is easily calmed with physical contact," she noted, digging through her significant experience as her University's legendary 'Maneater'. "You want my advice? Get in close, charm him, go in for the kiss, and he'll probably be like putty in your hands." Cave swallowed hard, then nodded.
As Chika launched into suggestions about how she could woo her protectee like a reverse version of that one movie that she had never seen due to it not existing in Gamindustri. There was no use trying to deny it. Chika would never be convinced. Just have to nod and listen and...maybe, um, store away some of the information.
F-For research.