Chapter 9: Johan Spills His Spaghetti All Over A Katawa Shoujo

As three pairs of eyes (well, two and a pair of shades) turned to him, Johan struggled to his feet. He rubbed the back of his neck, which was sore from the none-too-gentle landing he'd just experienced. "You're Fiore and Caules Forvedge, yes?" He knew the answer, but he was struggling, dammit!

"Indeed," Fiore responded in a calm, albeit guarded manner. "And you are?"

"Johan, one of the members of the White Faction." He scratched his head. "Kinda wish we'd have met under better circumstances, but when do things ever go according to plan?"

Fiore blinked. "So, that letter was your doing, then?" The glow started to fade from her robot limbs, but did not dissipate entirely. She frowned at him. "I must confess, there was...sensitive information in that letter I am not quite sure how you found, but that can wait for later."

In the distance, a sound somewhere between a roar and a howl echoed, followed by the crash of what sounded to be a tree falling. The Forvedges started and stared into the forest.

"Don't mind Berserker," Johan said dryly. "He's just helping out your Berserker, young man."

At that, Caules' head snapped around, an almost desperate look on his face. "Is it true? Can you really heal my sister's legs, like your letter said?"

"Caules!" Fiore reprimanded, an embarrassed look on her face.

"Me?" Johan asked rhetorically. "No. My Servant, on the other hand, has my fullest confidence."

It was at that point that a crow swooped down from the heavens and screeched, "SCRAW! I've successfully acquired cardboard!"

Johan glanced up at Trent's familiar. "Good to hear. Angriest Cat got attacked by Fran and Berserker is backing Fran up. As you can see, the Forvedges have encountered us. Do hurry back, would you? The less time we spend in a literal warzone, the better."

"Yeah, well I got one hell of a paper weight that I'm lugging around over my shoulder, so it'll be a bit, caaaw!" the familiar crowed before exploding in a shower of feathers, which then burnt up before hitting anyone.

Johan sighed, before turning back towards Fiore and Caules. "And that would be the dubious personage known as Trent Blackmore, though I'm sure you've experienced his handiwork before."

Fiore looked as though she was trying very hard not to laugh; probably remembering how Trent had first verbally then literally shat on Darnic. "A-ahem. Yes, his familiars have visited Castle Yggdmillenia before. He is...quite the memorable individual."

Kairi let out a harsh chuckle, his gun gone from his hand and secreted away in his coat. "That's puttin' it lightly. That boy ain't right."

It was at that moment that Mordred stomped out of the woods, Trent still in birdman form slung over her shoulder, with the homunculus slung over his shoulders in some bizzare fireman's pyramid. The Saber looked at her Master and the small gathering and explained, "Bird Bastard was going too slow."

"Hey, I'm lugging an entire person, and I'm not superhuman; cut me some slack with that sword of yours," Blackmore complained lightly from over her shoulder. He then remarked, "If you weren't wearing armour I'd spa—and the blood going to my head is a definite problem now."

Johan sighed. If this had been a sitcom, he was sure that this would've been the moment the Seinfeld theme would've played alongside a laugh track. As it was, they sort of just stood around awkwardly. Mordred then dropped Blackmore on his head, garnering a squawk as he flopped down atop the homunculus, who just groaned quietly.

Lifting his hand up, the birdman declared, "I'll admit, I deserved that."

"Don't you always?" Johan asked rhetorically. Meanwhile, Caules and Fiore were too busy staring in horror and not a small amount of disgust at the bird-headed monstrosity that Trent had become.

Kairi, for his part, merely pulled out a cigarette and fumbled with a lighter, nearly dropping it when another eerie howl echoed from the distance, this one carrying a tinge of frustration. Johan winced as the fire in his circuits flared briefly to lava levels once more, before petering off altogether. Trent himself shuddered as he picked himself off the ground, his feathers doing an odd dance across his flesh that he really wasn't fond of.

Pulling a vial out of his pocket and popping the top off, he toasted at the others as he threw it back. The change was sudden and somewhat shocking as the feathers all but fell out of his skin, leaving behind tender gooseflesh as the beak concealing his mouth fell off his face. Blinking a few times, red turned back to blue and the blond grimaced as he remarked, "Tastes awful, but damn if the good doctor doesn't work miracles."

"If you care," Carmilla flatly remarked as she strolled out of the woods, sunglasses still on despite the fact that it was night and clad in casual clothing, "the Archer of Red has been picked up by their Rider and they've fled. This might be the best chance to retreat."

Fiore's eyes snapped to Carmilla as she spoke, arms crossed as she processed all the information that was being presented. Caules, for his part, looked somewhat overwhelmed by all of the things happening in rapid succession.

Of course, that was the moment when Frankenstein's Monster jogged into the clearing, bodily carrying Dr. Jekyll like a blushing bride. At that point, Caules decided that maybe it would be best to stop thinking for a while. Seeing the look of utter bewilderment on the young man's face, Trent nodded sadly in understanding as he commiserated, "Sometimes, it just be like that on this bitch of an Earth."

Johan nodded in agreement, looking at both Berserkers with a complicated, constipated expression on his face. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a brunet man wearing vaguely Grecian white and brown armor and carrying a bow emerge from the forest beside Fiore. Archer of Black, known by the name Chiron in life, bent to speak softly in his Master's ear. As he did so, the straw-like hair of his horse tail swished into view briefly.

Johan glanced around the clearing awkwardly, then coughed loudly. "Ssssso...shall we go somewhere that isn't a warzone and discuss our prospects of alliance…?" He was talking to Fiore and Caules, but it was less awkward to talk to the entire clearing collectively, dammit!

"Sounds like a plan to me," the blond former birdman agreed as he rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand and keeping the homunculus standing with the other. "Although, anyone got any pain meds? My neck's killing me."

"I can make something," Jekyll offered, still gripped in Fran's powerful arms, "though my lab is running low on reagents. Once I have made my elixir for Miss Forvedge, I shall require new stock if my alchemy is to be of any measurable use...other than the acid Assassin procured, of course."

Johan rubbed his jaw. "Not sure where we'd get stuff like that out here...might have to rob Caster of Black's lab if we get the chance." He frowned. "We'll figure something out; let's just head back to base for now."

"But all Caster of Black's lab will have is rocks…Or little kid bits if we get there after he kills his Master," Trent interjected, clearly having no idea as to what went into the making of golems.

"After he does what?!" Fiore not so much asked as demanded, face pale and full of concern.

The blond shrugged. "Well, this homunculus here," he began, hefting the person in question, "is the one who Caster of Black views as the ideal candidate for a heart he can sacrifice to power his Noble Phantasm. After the homunculus is his own Master, who trusts Caster of Black implicitly, even though he really shouldn't."

Still pale-faced, Fiore retorted, "Suppose I believe you. What evidence do you have to back your claim? Caster of Black seemed distant, true. But to sacrifice Roche?" Fiore frowned. "That...that would be an utterly Magus thing to do, wouldn't it?" Her rhetorical question was as bitter as it was sad.

"The hilarious thing? After doing it and seeing his creation, he'll regret it immensely to the point where it literally scars his Saint Graph. He'll mourn it and hate himself for it, to the point of wishing that he could somehow stop himself from doing it," Trent explained, his face twisting into an ugly scowl. "And then, he'll help fight a mammoth railgun grown from Ivan the Terrible's feet, but that's another story entirely."

Fiore blinked slowly, then replied, "If I pretend that I have half an idea what you're talking about, can we go somewhere further from Castle Yggdmillenia?"

Trent nodded, "Let's head to Bone Daddy's Crypt."

The stares he got were more than worth it for the slap upside the head he received from Carmilla.

-x-x-x-

Once the now-larger, but no less motley, crew returned to their base of operations (and Caules managed to coax Fran into setting Jekyll down), Johan and the good doctor showed Fiore to the alchemy lab. Trent stopped by briefly and was given a small vial of painkillers and sent on his way. Johan offered Fiore a chair, but she opted to remain supported by her Bronze-Link Manipulators, so Johan plopped down in it instead.

An awkward silence filled the room, only interrupted by the clinking of vials and a dry cough here and there courtesy of Johan, who was very busy studying the ceiling, trying (and failing) to conceal his perturbation.

After a while, though, the awkwardness must've become too much to bear, and Fiore spoke, her tone conversational. "So, Mister...Johan, was it?"

Johan snapped upright in his chair, overbalanced, and nearly fell onto the floor. After righting himself in the seat and loosening his collar (had it gotten hotter in the room, or was that just the burning humiliation?), he answered, "Y-yes, Miss Forvedge?"

Fiore smiled faintly, which did not help Johan's nervousness in the slightest. "I do not mean to pry, but once we came in here, you began acting...well, 'oddly' would be putting it lightly. Is there something wrong? Have I committed some past offence upon you that I have failed to recall?"

Johan's eye twitched. "N-no, no. Nothing like that," he practically stammered, meeting her eyes then glancing away, pale face flushed. "It's, it's...it's nothing. Nothing you n-need to worry about."

Fiore frowned and opened her mouth to retort, but what miserable scraps that were left of Johan's dignity were saved by Jekyll spinning to face the duo, a faintly smoking phial in his hands.

"I have created it!" he proclaimed, a vaguely manic gleam in his eyes, before realizing that he had an audience. He blushed and coughed into his fist, before proffering the vial. "A-anyways, Miss Forvedge. Drink this. There will be pain, but it will not last long."

Fiore nodded, accepting the medicine and tossing it back in one motion. She shuddered, and her face reddened and screwed up against the pain. Bright, cog-like lines flashed along her legs as she let out a pained grunt, her entire body tensing for a brief moment...and then she slumped to the floor, her magic Doctor Octopus arms powering down due to the forcible realignment of her Magic Circuits.

After a moment, she stirred, and then let out a gasp. "I...I can feel them. I can feel my legs!" With her exclamation, she shot to her feet, joyous tears in her eyes...and promptly toppled forward, her legs unused to carrying her. Johan and Jekyll both moved to catch her, and the three collided and fell into a heap of limbs.

Of course, this development did Johan's awkwardness no favors, but then the final hit to his mangled dignity came.

Fiore wrapped one arm each around Jekyll and Johan's shoulders, thanking them profusely with tears in her eyes.

It was a critical hit, and Johan's shattered dignity was mercilessly slaughtered.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Meanwhile, Trent sat outside, nursing a bottle of iced tea that he'd picked up from Trifas earlier, silent despite the fact that Mordred was leaning against the entrance to the crypt, pointedly ignoring him. The blond took a sip of his drink as he tried to figure out just what he was going to say before deciding to do as he always did and bull ahead.

"You know, when we first discussing things in the crypt, what I said was meant to be an olive branch," he admitted, not watching for her reaction.

What he got in answer from the knight was a snort, "The hell're you on about? Even you've admitted that you like insulting people."

"And, to be honest, I do. I'm rude, crass, blunt, and an all around asshole, but I admit it. However, what I said was meant to be an olive branch to you, in my own hamfisted and bullheaded way," Trent explained as he looked down at the odd tea he was drinking, unsure of the flavour.

Mordred's hand entered his vision and clawed around his collar, pulling him around to face her. Her green eyes were laser focused as she glared down at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "So what? You think that you can just say all this and just brush it all off?"

"No, just figured that I'd at least explain to you as to what I was trying to do," Trent said with a shrug and took another swig of his drink. "I'm a simple man, figured I might as well try and mend this fence that I managed to break almost instantly."

"Tch, you're still a bastard," the Knight of Treachery opined as she let him go, and then walked back into the crypt, leaving him alone in the night air.

The blond hummed a little as he looked up at the night sky, and shrugged. "Well, she's not wrong."

"Quite," Carmilla agreed as she walked up beside him, spooking Trent and making him drop his iced tea. Looking between her and his spilled drink in sadness, she gave him a patronizing pat on the head as she remarked, "I'm honestly rather impressed that you went out of your way for that, seeing as you usually just open your mouth and don't stop any of the insults you're slinging."

"I'm an asshole, Carmilla, not completely stupid," the blond retorted as he picked up the bottle and got ready to get rid of the waste. "She deserved to at least know that I meant no harm, even if she didn't take it too well."

"Honestly, keep up like this Master, and you might just impress me one of these days," the Assassin remarked dryly as she left him to his business, Trent watching her sashay away.

The blond shook his head.

"Can't do nothing without catching shit, can I?"

No, he couldn't.