The Legends Still Live On
Bogen Siebundzwanzig-komma-ein: Extras Neun und Zehn
Kapitel Ein: Hausbesuch
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"Remind me, exactly why are we here again?" were the first words to come out of Douglas' mouth after reaching the front double doors to a large mansion. He was at the doors with Dennis, Assam, Arthur, and Orange Pekoe. Neither the Scotsman nor the Northern Irishman were pleased to be there, as evidenced by their unbelievably bored expressions.
"Oh, quit your whining, would you?" Assam berated Dennis and Douglas, fully expecting their behavior but still not very pleased about it. "You chose to come, so quit complaining. It makes you look childish."
Douglas responded by flipping the bird to her, too stubborn and unwilling to concede to her point.
"Well, this should be interesting, I predict," Arthur noted. With the way everyone was thus far and with expectations of what was to come, the English Spitfire pilot felt that this visit to the English countryside would be captivating entertainment.
"Come on, mates," Orange Pekoe tried to convince the others to act proper as she stood closest to the doors, ready to ring the doorbell. "You could at least be on your best behavior. Remember that this is Lady Darjeeling's home." She then rang the doorbell, which provided a melodic bell tune that was loud yet refined, fitting for a mansion as large and fancy as this one.
The others of the group looked to each other and silently agreed to be on their best behavior as they straightened up. Even though they collectively didn't much embrace coming to Darjeeling's humble abode, the five-some of Brits were far too polite and well-mannered to suggest such a thing by not accepting Darjeeling's invite.
After several seconds, the grand double doors swung out towards them, and Darjeeling stepped forth. "Good morrow, mates!" she greeted politely, yet also eagerly. The Englishwoman was very much happy that her main circle of friends accepted her invite over. "Welcome!"
Orange Pekoe politely smiled back and responded for everyone, "Thank you for inviting us over to your home. I must say, its beauty is quite breathtaking." Orange Pekoe's comment did have an element of truth to it: the Victorian-era mansion in the countryside was like a stitch in time compared to the massive urban sprawl of London to its north, making it truly a sight to behold in that light.
"Oh, you are too kind, Orange Pekoe," Darjeeling tried to wave off the compliment with humility. She then stepped back and waved a hand, beckoning all of them to follow. "Come on in!"
Falling into the mansion's interior with the rest of the group, Dennis and Douglas both looked around, finding nothing but pompousness with the marble floors and cream-colored walls within the open foyer. It was an impressive sight to anyone else, but to the Scotsman and Northern Irishman, it was a display of the wealthy bourgeoisie aristocracy that they both absolutely hated the Englishwoman for, and it made their eyes twinge slightly with disgust.
Arthur, Assam, and Orange Pekoe were more or less indifferent to the wealth display, instead holding conversation with Darjeeling. "So, we have a load of things we could do first," Darjeeling led off with. "What would you all like to start with?" She thought over her words for a second and then amended her statement. "Actually, on second thought, how about I just give you the grand tour?"
"That would be most appreciated," Orange Pekoe politely accepted Darjeeling's offer.
Pleased, the Churchill commander led them all on. "Alrighty, then, if you'll follow me…" she beckoned them to follow once more, but the sound of heels slowly clicking made everyone stop and turn to the elegantly curved stair set.
"Darjeeling? Do you have guests over?" they all heard a woman speak up from the stairs. Everyone there soon saw the woman herself as she descended the stairs to the ground level and came into view. The woman herself was much like Darjeeling in appearance, most prominently in the face and French braid hairstyle. Judging by her more accentuated bodily curves, she was older than Darjeeling by a couple of decades at least, though she still appeared rather young, not having a single wrinkle to her skin or a single strand of gray hair on her scalp.
Her more accentuated curves were most obvious with regards to her cleavage, emphasized as a byproduct of the outfit she wore: a white strapless gown with frills at each end. She also wore a necklace with a shining emerald stone as the highlight.
'Good mother of God, look at those tits…' Arthur began thinking very inappropriate thoughts upon seeing the woman, solely because of her cleavage that was just sitting there waiting to be unveiled to the world from under that fabric. Assam, sensing the Spitfire pilot's lewd thoughts, swiftly elbowed him in the side. The Englishman grunted a bit and sent back a grumpy glare, no doubt displeased with Assam pulling him out of his thoughts, but he was silenced with a glare from the Churchill gunner warning him to not push his luck.
"Yes, mother," Darjeeling answered the woman's inquiry with a smile. "These are just some of my mates." She waved a hand toward the other five.
"Nice to meet you, ma'am" Orange Pekoe kindly greeted and gave a friendly smile. Assam tried to appear friendly as well whilst subtly pinching Arthur as a reminder to not think lewd thoughts about Darjeeling's mother while she was standing before them. Dennis and Douglas both gave a short, relatively unenthusiastic wave.
"Ah, well then be sure to treat them as guests of our house ought to be treated," Darjeeling's mother reminded as she walked off to the front door.
Darjeeling herself rolled her eyes, but had an affectionate smile on her face. "Yeeeees, mother," she drawled out, clearly having experienced her mother's insistence by the boatload.
"Good. Alas, I must be off now, so tally ho!" Darjeeling's mother waved farewell before exiting.
"Farewell!" Darjeeling waved back. She then turned back to the others. "Now, back to our tour… Follow me!" She beckoned with her arm again to follow her, and the others dutifully obeyed.
"The place is rather large, but it doesn't feel as such because everything is laid out so efficiently," Darjeeling talked about the house as they all walked. She then pointed off to a wide hall with an entry using an intricately designed frame to their left as they approached. "Let's go here first, as this hall has all the more interesting tidbits. The others are just bedrooms and bathrooms more or less, with some closets here and there."
During Darjeeling's detailed description of the house, Douglas leaned close to Dennis and muttered, "Between Darjeeling, the Nishizumis, and the Hartmanns, all three of them put together are the reason communism never works."
Dennis snorted greatly at the humor, just barely managing to stop from bursting into laughter, as he clearly understood the joke: all three of them – Darjeeling's family, the Nishizumis, and the Hartmanns – had enough money put together to buy a small country or, alternatively, a large country with a horrible economy thanks to communism destroying said economy.
Some footsteps echoing down the hall had everyone stop at the entryway, as the steps came towards them. Coming out of the hall was a reasonably buff man in an impeccable black tuxedo holding a small goblet in one hand. He had a monocle by his right eye, but most unusual was the fact that he also had a French braid hairstyle, just like Darjeeling's.
The man noticed everyone and came to a stop, looking toward them. "Oh, you brought some mates over, Darjeeling?" the man asked as he looked over everyone that wasn't Darjeeling.
Assam immediately elbowed Arthur again to prevent him from blurting out something stupid about the man's hairstyle. The English Spitfire ace nearly had to take a step to rebalance himself, but was able to save his dignity just in time. His ribs hurt more because of Assam's hard elbowing, though.
"Yes, father," Darjeeling replied, ready to use her charms in case her father didn't approve. "No need to worry, we won't be up to anything dangerous."
Such things proved unnecessary as Darjeeling's father gave a satisfied, friendly smile to everyone. "Well, please then, feel free to relax," he gave his approval. "My home is your home." He then walked off further in the opposite direction of where Darjeeling's group was heading.
"Must you keep doing that rubbish?" Arthur pointedly asked Assam, more than a little annoyed with her deliberate elbowing as the group proceeded down the hall.
Assam responded by elbowing him again, to which the Englishman grunted and actually had to take a few steps to rebalance himself. "Yes," Assam answered smugly.
"Let's see…" Darjeeling muttered to herself as they passed a few doorways. "Not this one… not this one… Aha! Here we are!" She then opened up the door and went inside, everyone else following behind.
Upon entering, though, everyone that followed Darjeeling in now wanted to backtrack their way out of the room. They were all staring at a variety of pets – some of which included some cats, some dogs, a few birds, and even a turtle – but the most unsettling aspect is that all of the animals had a blonde French braid hairstyle identical to Darjeeling's, even when it was horribly out of place on their colors.
The others besides Darjeeling blinked, before Assam finally remarked, flatly, "What the bloody hell…" Orange Pekoe elbowed her in response to the brainless comment, which had Assam yelp in response to the elbow and look back to the Churchill loader. "Oh, come on mate! Irony much?!"
Orange Pekoe grabbed Assam by the shirt and pulled her close. "Don't say such things!" she reminded in a harsh whisper. "Remember, we're guests!"
"Come on, even you can't be unaffected by that!" Assam whispered back with disbelief. She didn't believe Orange Pekoe could be so desensitized to Darjeeling.
Dennis and Douglas both stared on blankly, mentally checking out from the situation. Arthur's brain was similarly broken from the sight of the pets with blonde French braids.
"Um… Guys?" Darjeeling asked, confused as to why everyone froze up. It was a bit discontenting, because Darjeeling really wanted to show off the pets she owned.
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Assam woke up and shot up in her bed abruptly, ending her dream. It was not very pleasant judging by her shortness of breath, and she breathed for a bit before finally calming down from her dream.
"Oh, bloody hell, that was a nightmare if I ever saw one…" she noted absently. She then blinked as she thought again about why she was dreaming what she dreamed. She then loudly groaned and grasped her hair, "Uuuuugh, what in blazes is wrong with my mind?! I don't even like French braids!"
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Part of Projekt Jägermeistern.
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The author doesn't claim to own "Girls und Panzer" or any other references made. "Girls und Panzer" belongs to Actas. Any references made belong to their respective owners.
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