Whew, I was bit quick on this one. Didn't exactly leave you hanging on that cliff for long. But I just couldn't help myself! I couldn't wait for you guys to read this chapter! I'll quickly answer reviews and then we'll get on with the chapter. Man, we're only a few reviews away from a hundred. This is officially my most reviewed story yet. You know, breaking triple digit reviews has been on my bucket list ever since I started writing on this sight. Fingers cross I make it after this chapter.
ihngoleegoliath, WeAreVenom5, Milo S Darek, TripleXZoro, and Super heavy weapons guy: (: Guess it's kinda obvious. I hope you all enjoy!
qazse: Yeah, Vaggie is DEFINITELY not equipped right now to handle something like that. As for the Angel's we'll just have to wait and see what they think of Jack and his sword. ;)
AwesomeAnime77: Also, don't you worry, Jack will definitely be encountering a certain popstar. Maybe even sooner than you'd think.
Gamelover41592: hehehe. :) All according to plan!
Cross177: Oh, absolutley. Unfortunatley, I won't be putting the TF2 mercs in here. At least... not any time soon.
rellrocker235: The Angels certainly have an opinion on Aku. Wheather its big enough for them to put aside their pride and look to Jack for help is yet to be seen.
Guest99 and Skully13: I can confirm that I do have a planned pairing for Jack but it will not be with an OC. People who have read earlier chapters might have a guess though. But hey if you two are eager for a story like that, why not write it yourselves? Your ideas sound cool.
Tornado man: That whole curse thing in the description won't be relevant for a while. I just feel it might be one of my more major decisions in this story so I made sure to put it in the summary so people get a fair warning ahead of time. As for Jack and Vaggie, you'll have to keep reading to find out.
guest 1: As of now, yes, Aku is the MAIN villain for Jack and the main source of his grievances. Doesn't mean that other major antagonists from Hazbin won't give Jack plenty of trouble.
Guest 2: Kind of. You'll see.
Guest 3: Yeah, spoilers, but don't go counting on Heaven anytime soon for Aku relief.
Some1call4MR-E: Well, you're on chapter 1 of 9, I'd say so. Glad to have you!
Now that that's all taken care of, on with the show!
"Are those…" Angel head perked up. His eyes squinted as his jaw dropped. "Are those motherfucking bagpipes?"
Husk's tired eyes shot wide open. He flattened himself against the wall like he was trying to squeeze into the cracks. "Oh shit. We gotta get out of here, we have to leave right now!"
"What's wrong, scaredy-cat?" Angel grinned for the first time in a while. "Don't tell me you're a pussy over plaid."
"How the fuck have you been down here so long, yet you don't know shit about this place?" Husk gulped. "Especially not who to fuck with."
Jack felt his eyes widen a tick. In the short time Jack had known him, Husk was many things. Easily shaken was not one of them. What kind of warrior could strike such fear in the cat?
Jack turned back to the battlefield. He couldn't see it before, but now it was clear as day: a figure was coming up over the horizon, it cast a mountainous silhouette through the dust. All Sinners cautiously lowered their weapons, but not in fear, in preparation of a new battle. They all turned to this new figure as it slowly marched its way to the battlefield, the wailing music following the whole way.
The figure passed through dust. A leather boot took one lumbering step forward, and a smoking barrel took another. This warrior had fashioned a prosthetic peg leg out of a gun? Trailing the legs up, they lead to an odd fashion choice. A cotton skirt of all things, decorated in a black and red checkered pattern. Jack had only seen such designs in Greece.
Above the skirt was when the real contrast began. The torso was immensely disproportionately huge in comparison to the legs. It was a mountain of flesh- whether it was fat, muscle, or some kind of blubber was a mystery- all contained in a thin dirty rag of a shirt, sporting a low-cut collar to reveal a jungle of ginger chest hair.
Attached to boulder-like shoulders, were massive tree trunks of arms showing off pale skin only broken up by more orange body hair sprouting out. The massive arms were currently curled around a green bag with many brass tubes sticking out of it, meaty fingers danced along one tube with holes like a flute.
The figure's head was somehow the most striking feature. It was thick like a rock, and it didn't even look like it had a proper neck. The nose was more like a narrow snout wedged between two pale pools of eyes. Encircling the entire bald head was a ring of ginger hair, forming a splendid mustache that pooled into glorious mutton chops, climaxing in the back of the head by tying into a glorious flowing orange ponytail. Just behind the head, Jack could see the handle of a massive claymore strapped to the figure's back.
The figure's mouth was currently over the reed of the strange instrument in his hand. He took a breath with each step he took, and the wailing grew louder.
"Okay, I give up," Angel spoke up from beside Jack. "Who the hell is this guy?"
Husk dared to look over the wall, eyes wide as he confirmed his suspicions. "One of the oldest souls in all of Hell, maybe even older than Zestial himself."
"No one knows his name, he never even gave one. Most people just call him…" Husk turned to his companions. "The Scotsman."
"Really?" Angel stared with half-lidded eyes. They drifted over to the Scotsman, still playing at his bagpipes. "How mysterious. How could they have ever come to name him such a thing?"
"Spew your sarcastic bull all you want, but we gotta go!" Husk hissed through clenched teeth. "This guy doesn't fuck around. Even Overlords think twice about screwing with him!"
Jack raised an eyebrow. This "Scotsman" was certainly mighty in size, but he didn't seem that extraordinary. Mystic power didn't radiate off of him like it did Prince Stolas. Still, looks could be deceiving.
The Scotsman continued walking forward, playing his wailing instrument. He trudged past Sinners, his eyes not even glancing in their direction, even as the Sinner's heads all trailed after him. The Scotsman continued until he stood in the very center of the entire battlefield, all eyes trained on him. Yet he still kept playing the bagpipes.
Jack clutched his ears. The "music" was so loud now, it felt like it was trying to pierce into his skull. Was the Scotsmen's plan to knock out all the Sinners with the sheer volume of his playing?
Finally, instruments noises began to die down. The Scotsman's lips left the pipe's reed, and everything was cast into silence. No one moved. They all just kept staring. One could hear a pin drop.
The Scotsman suddenly took a deep breath. Jack's hands immediately dove for his ears, fearing an encore. However, what came next was somehow ten times louder.
"AALLLRRRRIGHTTT!"
The Scotsman's bellow floored all who heard it, his deep gruff voice was coated in a thick accent. Spittle flew from his mouth as he screamed. His open maw showing off crooked yellow teeth.
"Listen up, ye pill-munching, blood-suckling, mama-crying, limp-barreled, powder-snorting, glue-drinking, brain-drained hill-patsies!" The Scotsman roared. "I'm givin' ye until the count o' three to clear out and get off ma land! 'Cus if you're still 'ere by the time I'm done countin', I'm turning yer SKULLS into lawn ornaments!"
Many jaws dropped, eyes widened, and dozens of Sinners did a double-take. Who was this man who had the GALL to walk into a war zone playing an instrument, and then make demands like he's in charge?! At that moment, a common enemy was found. The Sinners turned their guns and their swords away from one another, and all turned to the plaid-clad newcomer.
The Scotsman only narrowed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "ONE…"
"Seriously, guys, we have got to go!" Husk yanked on Jack's sleeve.
Jack pulled his arm away. "No! Not without Sir Pentious."
The snake was still coiled up in the tree, but he was watching the events play out with panicked-but-silent interest.
The Scotsman reached for a small pouch on the front of his belt. He somehow stuffed his entire instrument inside the tiny thing. "TWO…"
"Oh man, this is gonna be good," Angel grinned as he rubbed his hands together. Was he excited to see this Scotsman make a one-man stand against an army? Or maybe he just wanted to see a one-sided slaughter.
The Sinners began to charge, an entire wave of maniacs all converging on one funny-speaking warrior.
The Scotsman did not shake, back off, or stutter. Instead, he just grinned. He pulled his hand back out of the small pouch, except his hand now held a small metal canister. The Scotsman reached over with his over hand and pulled out a small metal pin. "THREE!"
Right as a kangaroo sinner was about to swing a fire axe, the Scotsman jammed the canister right into their open mouth! The Scotsman then reached down and grabbed the kangaroo by their legs. He hoisted them into the air like a rag doll before spinning them around and launching them through the air, crashing right into the advancing guard of Sinners.
BOOM
The kangaroo Sinner exploded, consuming at least half a baker's dozen of Sinners in a massive fireball. The Scotsman's foes didn't falter though, they kept advancing. Credit to the Scotsman though, he didn't show to be deterred by their advances. The Scott swung his massive arms like battering rams, each strike knocking away two Sinners at least!
One Sinner actually managed to duck past the giant fists, and he victoriously shouted as he drove a knife into the Scotsman's side. The Scotsman blinked down at the foreign blade intruding where his ribs should be. He merely threw his head back and laughed a deep guttural guffaw that rattled Jack's ear drums. The Scotsman batted away the lucky Sinner like he would a fly.
Jack hated to admit it, but he was impressed. The Scotsman was making excellent progress through the Sinners, even as blade and bullets pieced his flesh. The goliath was either immensely tough, or simply didn't care about the pain.
The Scotsman reached down towards his false leg. He grabbed it by a handle in the side and hoisted it up, impressively balancing his large body on one boot. A click noise was heard, and a stream of bullets burst forth from the false limb.
The Scotsman pivoted on one leg, letting his stream of death travel all over the battlefield, turning dozens of Sinners into the Swiss cheese. Jack and the others had to duck under their rubble to avoid having a stray bullet land between the eyes.
The river of bullets ran dry, and the Scotsman lowered his smoking barrel of a foot to the ground. He didn't have time to revel in his victory, however.
The Cacti Cowboy from before suddenly leapt at the Scotsman from behind, raising his gloved fist for a strike to the back! The Scotsman suddenly whirled around, and caught the attack in his bug meaty palm. The Scott closed his hand, and his entire fist enveloped the cowboy's arm.
The cowboy's eyes widened. "Oh shit."
The Scotsman yanked the cowboy off the ground before slamming him into another charging group of three Sinners. But the Scott didn't stop there as he yanked up the cowboy for round two, and slammed him into another group of advancing foes.
The Scotsman looked up to see more Sinners coming to join the party. He grinned and hefted his arm for another swing. He blinked. His impromptu weapon had felt significantly lighter than before. He looked down to see that he was currently holding nothing but the cactus cowboy's spiky green arm, ripped at the shoulder. The rest of the cowboy must have been sent flying away on the last swing.
The Scotsman looked at the severed arm in his hands, then to the incoming Sinners. He shrugged, and then charged headfirst into the fray, bashing Sinners' head in with a makeshift spiked club.
Jack, Angel, and Husk watched the carnage unfold with wide eyes.
"Holy shit…" All eight of Angel's eyes were wide open.
"Impressive," Jack mumbled. It was admittedly far more brutal and ferocious than he would ever commend, but he could not deny the warrior's strength and skill. This Scotsman would be a difficult opponent to say the least, but Jack was confident he could steal a victory with his training.
"You guys see what I mean?" Husk hissed. "So let's get the fuck out of here before he notices us staring like a bunch of middle-schoolers stalking a boy band."
"Not without Pentious," Jack remained resolute. "Is he still in the tree?"
Indeed, the snake had done a wonderful job of avoiding the bloodshed by remaining trapped atop his wooden prison, wisely choosing to keep his fanged mouth shut to avoid attention. However, the Scotsman's battle was beginning to creep dangerously close to said wooden structure. In fact, it looked as if the Scotsman was now fighting directly underneath the branch where Sir Pentious was hanging from.
Jack's acute hearing caught the sound of dead wood creaking, straining under the weight of a large reptile. "Oh no…"
The branch Sir Pentious had found sanctuary in snapped and the snake was sent plummeting down with a hissing scream.
As for the Scotsman, he was enthusiastically swinging his new club with reckless abandon. The Sinners were thinning out, all he had to take care of were the two fools who chose to stick around this long. Just as he slammed the weaponized vegetation into their skulls, the Scotsman was suddenly blinded as a slithering slimy coil of scales suddenly crashed right on top of his head.
Sir Pentious yelped as he suddenly found himself on a very irate steed. His instincts kicked in, his tail tightened in a vice-like grip, smothering the Scott's entire head.
The Scotsman's muffled screams still somehow managed to reach all the way to Jack and the others, and the screams sounded much more angry than afraid. The Scotsman flailed his arms, frantically swinging at an attacker he couldn't see. Meanwhile, Sir Pentious tried his best to not be a victim of the violent flails, desperately slamming his dinky little fist on the Scott's head in a vain attempt to knock him out.
The strategy wouldn't last. The goliath grew wise as he realized exactly where to find his attacker. He reached up one massive bear-like hand and grabbed hold of Pentious' tail. The Scotsman effortless ripped the snake from his head before tossing him aside, the snake slamming into the trunk of the tree he was just hiding in.
"WHAT…" The Scotsman took a deep breath. "In all of the seven bleating Hells was THAT?!"
Sir Pentious scrambled to a standing position, or the best he could do without legs. His back was flat against the tree, his many eyes desperately darting all over for an escape route. "I- er- that is…"
"I come out here in open!" The Scotsman snarled as he took another lumbering step forward. "I stand tall for everyone to see, and declare for all to face me in honorable combat! And ye' think you can jus' take me down with a pity little sneak attack from the sky?!"
Pentious poured sweat. "Well, you see- i-it wasn't meant to…"
"Yer a coward!" The Scotsman barked. "A spineless, gammie-tailed hinoot! At least all the other worthless blokes had the decency to face me head on! What you have to say for yourself, ye pale-scaled, poison-dripping cutty drake!"
Sir Pentious gulped. He removed his back from the bark and straightened his bow tie. "Pleassse, my good man, there's no reason that we can't ssettle this like gentleman, despite the history between our peoplesss."
"History between…?" The Scotsman fury quelled in place of confusion. He looked Pentious up and down, taking in the snake's entire appearance. Understanding dawned as the Scott's entire face boiled red with fury. "DO YOU THINK I'M A BLASTED IRISHMAN, YE BONE-HEADED BASSA?!"
"Um…" Pentious immediately coiled in on himself. "... Maybe?"
The Scotsman took his spiked arm-club in both hands. "Any last words, ye scum-sucking, skin-eating, scale-flayed, worm-backed, egg-laying, eye-hatted, teary-eyed, teeth-munching BAMPOT?!"
"Um…" Pentious twiddled his fingers, sitting in a pool of sweat. His frills flared as he snapped his arm in a random direction. "Look! A distraction!"
Miraculously, this somehow worked as the Scotsman shifted his gaze away to look in the direction pointed.
"Aha ha ha! You fool! Now you face the wrath of my ssssneak attack!" Pentious snatched up a rock from the ground and hurled it with all his might. The stone bounced off the Scott's head with a CONK.
Like shifting stone, the Scotsman slowly turned his head back to Pentious.
Pentious' frills drooped like a wet cardboard sword. "Oh my shit."
The Scotsman began beating the snake over the head with his club. He struck fast and he struck strong. Pentious didn't even have time to fully grunt in pain before his face was struck by yet another blow. He head was knocked to the right before immediately being slammed to the left.
Jack watched with horror. His soul screamed at him to do something, to move his legs, but his brain was still catching up with watching the extreme violence even take place, and his legs remained still.
"You know," Husk's inappropriately calm voice spoke. "I never understood how people could talk like it was impossible to look away from a train wreck. I get it now."
"Damn…" Angel whispered. "At this point, I'm just impressed that the snake is still conscious enough to scream in pain."
"I'm impressed he's even keeping his head straight up," Husk mumbled.
"This… this is madness!" Jack suddenly found feeling in his legs. He sprung to his feet. "We must do something!"
"Hold on," Angel's first right arm grabbed Jack's shoulder while the second was placed on the samurai's chest. "I wanna see how long this can go for."
The Scotsman swung his weapon, but blinked as he hit nothing but air. His eyes widened as he realized that his opponent had not dodged his weapon, but rather that the weapon was no longer there. What had once been a cactus cowboy's arm had been worn down to nothing but a stubby little nub. Excessive use left it as nothing more than a tiny gloved hand in the Scotsman's massive palm.
"Ah…ha!" Sir Pentious breathed out. How he was still metaphorically standing was a miracle, as his face had been swollen into what looked like a giant blueberry. "You are now… helplesssh without your weapon! Jusht assh I planneded! Now, ffor my… counterattack!"
Pentious shakily raised a tiny hand and slapped against the Scotsman's beefy forearm. "Take… that."
The Scotsman stared at Sir Pentious. He tossed away the nub of a hand, and then started wailing on the snake with his fists, and the cycle of the snake's screams began anew.
"Enough of this!" Jack jumped straight over the wall. He had no idea what force prevented him from acting sooner, but it was too late for regrets. He raised the pitchfork. "Angel Dust, save Sir Pentious! I will keep the Scotsman busy!"
"Your funeral," Jack heard Angel mutter, but it was too little too late.
Jack had taken off running. He made a beeline straight towards the Scott and the snake. He raised the pitchfork in the air before stabbing it straight into the ground! Like a pole vault, Jack used the leverage to catapult himself off the ground and send himself flying. Jack soared through the air, sailing right towards the mountain that was the Scotsman. He stuck out his foot, and let his momentum carry his kick straight into the goliath's cheek!
Jack flipped through the air, landing perfectly without a hair out of place. He rose to his full height, and turned to his monolithic opponent, pitchfork posed like a spear.
As for the Scotsman, his face was frozen in a moment of pure shock, his beat down on Pentious forced to be put on hold at his sudden involuntary face turn. His surprise turned into a sneer that he leveled at the Samurai.
The Scotsman looked Jack up and down, his face settling into one definitive mood, unimpressed. "Now, I've seen everything."
Jack felt his palms begin to sweat, he tightened his grip on his weapon. Up close, it felt like the Scotsman was nearly double his own height. But now was not the time for nerves. "This senseless violence ends here!"
"Senseless?" The Scotsman growled. He took a threatening step towards Jack, and away from the snake. "Oh, well this is just perfect for me' day! All of a sudden, I've got Mr. High-and-mighty on ma case, thinkin' he's better than me!"
The Scotsman leveled a thick finger at Jack. "Don't ye go thinkin' you can look down on me jus 'cause I taught this lot some manners! Unlike these dobbers, I've got a reason to fight that's bigger than myself and bigger than you! They started this fight, I just ended it!"
"You will not end this fight," Jack's eyes steeled. He would no longer listen to this man's lies. He had shown to know nothing but violence, he could not fool Jack. "I will."
"Ooh," The Scotsman sarcastically raised his hands in a mock surrender. "I'm tremblin' in me one wee bootie. That's real scary coming from a man threatenin' me with an oversized salad fork!"
The Scotsman threw back his head in mighty chortle. "Oh, of course ya have to threaten me with the fork, 'cause yer only other option is that butter knife dangling off your hip! I'm startin' to wonder if ye just got lost on yer way to a tea party!"
Jack would not react to the jabs. This warrior was just trying to get into Jack's head. The samurai would maintain focus.
"Lemme show ya a real man's weapon," The Scotsman flashed a crooked grin, he reached behind his back and took hold of the handle that laid dormant until now. With the sound of scraping metal that felt like it lasted an eternity, the Scotsman slid out a mind-boggling six feet of blazing steel out of its sheath. The claymore shimmered in the light of the pentagram, strange runes glittering along the blade. It looked so massive, that gravity seemed to increase in its very presence, yet the Scotsman wielded it with but one hand.
"THIS is a sword," The Scotsman grinned. He leveled the massive blade straight towards Jack. "And it's about to turn you into stuffin' for a confetti canon!"
With a guttural roar, the Scotsman charged, sword raised. Jack charged to meet him head on. Jack raised the three spikes of his pitchfork just as the Scotsman swung his blade down.
The fork met the sword head on, but the blade proved superior as it effortlessly sliced right through the black metal. Jack's eyes widened as his defense crumpled like a paper, and a massive blade headed straight for his skull. His battle instincts kicked in as he sidestepped out of the way, the sword missing him by mere inches as it crashed into the ground.
Good, the Scotsman put too much force into his attack. That means he overextended himself and would need time to recover for a second attack. That would give Jack the time to fall back and recover-
The Scotsman instantly swung his blade upwards, recovering faster than Jack could ever predict. The samurai instinctively held out what was left of his weapon in an attempt to block. The claymore easily bisected the metal pole that was once a weapon, leaving Jack wide open for the Scott's giant fist.
It felt like being in face with a sack full of rocks. Jack sailed through the air and crashed onto his back. He managed to quickly back roll into his feet, but his pride had felt the sting. He had underestimated his opponent, one of the biggest mistakes to make on the battlefield. His battles with Stolas and Vaggie had inflated his ego to dangerous means.
Jack looked at the two sliced remains of metal in his hand. These would not do as weapon. He tossed them away, he needed to draw his sword.
"EYARRGH!"
Jack's eyes snapped upward to catch the sight of the Scotsman bringing his sword down on Jack's head. He needed to draw his sword NOW!
CLANG
Jack clenched his teeth. The claymore was inches from his forehead, both of Jack's hands gripped his katana as he forced the Scott's blade further upwards and away from Jack's skull.
"Oh?" The Scotsman raised a bushy orange brow. "So your little butter knife is sturdier than she looks."
He raised up his other arm, he grasped his claymore with both hands. He grinned. "Let's see by how much."
The Scott lifted his blade from the sword lock, he forcefully swung his sword right at Jack's left side. The samurai instantly brought up his katana to block. The clang of metal echoed through the battlefield as sword met sword. The Scotsman immediately pulled his blade back only to swing at Jack's other exposed side. Jack instantly raised his sword to block again.
The Scotsman advanced upon Jack, thrusting his claymore with powerful swings. The samurai lifted his katana to deflect the best he could, but the Scottish behemoth was undeniably strong and deceptively fast. Jack found himself losing ground, slowly backpedaling as he tried to deflect the Scott's attacks.
This was not good. Not even the imps gave Jack this much trouble, and he had to fight them one-handed! Perhaps he should retreat… But Jack caught something in the corner of his eye. Just behind the Scotsman, Jack could see Angel Dust hefting the body of Sir Pentious over the spider's shoulders. Angel was trying to flee the scene, obviously struggling with the added weight of a large reptile.
That's right. Jack wasn't just fighting for himself here. He was fighting for the chances of these wayward souls trying to be better. He could not afford to run here. He needed a way to turn this around.
The Scotsman slashed at Jack with a massive horizontal swipe. This was Jack's chance. He jumped into the air and over the blade! He saw the Scotsman's confidant face twist into one of shock. Jack gripped his katana with both hands, and he swung it downwards full force.
CLANG
Even with the added force of gravity, the Scotsman was able to put up a hasty block of Jack's strike. His shocked face began regaining its confidence, but it was too late. The Scotsman was in no position for an offensive, it was Jack's turn.
Jack charged forward, swinging his blade with strength and precision. To the average person, his sword was a white whirlwind of blurs flying straight at the Scotsman. Unfortunately, the Scotsman's claymore was so wide and thick, it practically doubled as shield. The Scotsman barely had to move it to block Jack's attacks.
But that was fine, such a defense could not last forever. Jack feinted an attack to the left, but then immediately slashed from the right in an upwards strike. The Scott's sword was knocked away, leaving the Scotsman wide open.
Jack dove in for another attack, the Scotsman rushed his own sword to defend. But in his haste, he failed to provide his block with the proper strength and support. Jack knocked the sword away. Jack continued his assault, and the same result occurred. The Scotsman may have been strong and surprisingly fast, but Jack was still faster and just strong enough. Jack began forcing the Scotsman back!
Nervous energy filled the Scotsman's eyes as he watched this small warrior force him to retreat. He gritted his teeth, and dug his heel into the dirt. With a mighty clash, Jack and the Scotsman locked blades and locked into place, silent as they tried to overpower one another. They were evenly matched.
"Aye," The Scotsman tried to smirk, but Jack could see the sweat poring off his head. "You've at least got a lot of pep for such a wee laddie. Ha ha ha ha!"
Jack gagged as he took the full force of the Scotsman's bad breath. That would have nearly ended the stalemate then and there, but Jack held strong.
The two blades rattled as they pushed against one another, metal grinding against metal. The Scotsman took a deep breath. The Scott jerked his sword to the right, the blade lock was broken, and the claymore began forcing the katana to the ground.
Jack's eyes widened. No! Once the swords hit the ground, Jack would be wide open with no way to counterattack. He had to stop this!
The Scotsman smiled in way that said he knew his victory was assured. But then his eyes shot wide open, and his confident smirk was wiped off his face. "STOP!"
His blade froze midair, Jack felt his muscles cry out in relief as they were no longer fighting against such an immense force. Jack yanked his sword from the lock. What on Earth was that? Why had the Scotsman suddenly halted his assault and given up such an advantage?
The Scotsman was not looking at Jack, his wide blue eyes were currently trained on the floor, right where his and Jack's blades would have crashed if the Scott had followed through. Jack followed his gaze, and his jaw dropped.
"Hi…" Nifty purred, giving a dainty little wave with a mischievous grin.
When had the hotel maid gotten here?! Jack didn't even see her get thrown off the roof! Did she jump off herself? If the Scotsman hadn't stopped his attack, Jack's sword would have pierced her skull and…
"What the bloomin' blazes do you think you're doing, lassie?!" The Scotsman barked out. "We coulda caved your bleating head in!"
Jack blinked. The way the Scotsman spoke, it was loud like usual, but didn't sound like the usual angry tone. It sounded almost… concerned?
"Oh, I bet you could have," Nifty bit her lip, batting her one giant eyelash up at the Scotsman.
"Er…" The Scotsman shifted uncomfortably from foot to gun. The cyclops eye tracked his every movement. "Are you alright, lassie? Did you hit your head already?"
"Oh, I've never been better!" Nifty suddenly popped right up on the Scotsman's shoulder. Even Jack hadn't seen her move.
"My name is Nifty," the maid twirled her little finger around a ginger curl poking out of the Scott's arm. "I saw your little bloodbath earlier. It was beautiful, you bad, bad boy…"
The Scotsman's cautionary concern for another shifted to very definite concern for himself. He immediately backed away, as if that would put distance between himself and the devil on his shoulder. "Oh no! I know exactly what you're sellin', and I ain't buyin'! 'Sides, I'm already-"
"Shshshshshsh," Nifty pinched the giant's lips shut. "No more words…"
Her eye snapped wide open as she smiled razor sharp teeth. "Only bloodshed!"
The Scotsman's eyes widened in a new emotion: panic. He frantically looked around for any way out of this, his eyes landed on Jack. They stared at him almost pleadingly.
Jack grimaced. What was he supposed to do here? He was as outmatched as the Scott. Jack frantically racked his brain, desperately trying to shake loose any useful information he had on the maid.
"Er, look!" Jack pointed off to a random dust cloud. "A giant cockroach is attempting to flee!"
"What?!" Nifty bolted to attention, her gaze ripped from its Scottish prize. "Not on my watch!"
"I'll be back soon," she slowly dragged a finger across the Scotsman's lips before hopping off his shoulder and charging into the dust cloud, laughing maniacally.
Only once the maid's laughter faded, and she was well out of sight, did the Scotsman let out a deep sigh of the purest relief. He looked up at Jack with grateful eyes. "Thanks for that, laddie."
"Uh… you are welcome." Jack cleared his throat. He wasn't quite sure what just happened. What the Scotsman just did, it did not fit in with the bloodthirsty battle-hungry image Jack had built up around the large warrior. Unexpected bashfulness aside, the giant seemed almost gentle with the small lady, and rather adamant about not bringing her any harm even if it was convenient for him.
Scotsman sacrificed a great advantage to spare Nifty, why would he suddenly care for an innocent bystander? And what about Jack? Did he not just do the same? Why lie to Nifty when he could have instead attacked the Scotsman when he was wide open? Wasn't his instinct to vanquish evil? Now the two warriors were just standing there, swords still drawn in the middle of an empty battlefield.
The Scotsman's eyes blinked as if he had just come to the same conclusion as Jack. "Wait a blasted minute, what am I doing thankin' YOU of all people? Quit your gawkin' and get back to fightin'!"
The Scotsman charged straight at Jack, claymore raised for battle. Jack raised his katana to meet it, and their battle continued once more.
"Can't you assholes pick up the pace?" Husk hissed ducking out of the way of a stray bullet.
"Tell you what," Angel hissed, feeling like his heels were about to snap off. "You try running for your life while lugging 300 pounds of delusions of grandeur on your back, then we can all get on your high horse and ride it the hell out of here!"
"T- two eighty…" Pentious gasped out. Great, the snake was lucid enough to nitpick insults but not enough to run.
Angel really hated today. It sucked so much, he hadn't even made an innuendo in fifteen minutes, that's how bad it was!
"Alright, I think this was our first shelter," Husk placed a hand on a pile of rubble. "I think that means we're getting close to end of this nightmare."
"Finally," Angel sighed, but not too much lest he end up dropping Pentious. This was tied for the worst day of his afterlife, right along with every other day of his afterlife. But Angel blinked when he realized their party was missing a member. "Hey, where the hell is Jack?"
"I dunno," Husk sneered. "Probably still fighting that plaid-clad lunatic."
No sooner had the cat spoke, the sound of ringing metal suddenly echoed through the air. Adjusting the snake, Angel chanced a glance behind him. Sure enough, there was Samurai Jack banging swords away with the giant creep apparently known as the Scotsman. And they weren't even doing it the fun way!
The Scotsman made giant upwards slash, dragging his blade through the dirt as he swung. Jack effortlessly dodged it, but it was clear that was not the attack's only purpose. The Scott's claymore had kicked up the dirt, giving the Scotsman a smokescreen that concealed his even his massive figure.
When he burst through it swinging his sword, even Jack couldn't tell from which way to defend. The samurai was on the back foot, frantically backpedaling as he kept up with the Scotsman's strikes.
Angel narrowed his eyes. Jack was doing good, but he could've been doing better. Angel turned to Husk. "Should we… be doing something about that?"
"Like what, get mauled?" Husk didn't even look in Jack's direction. "That moron's the one who picked a fight with the Scotsman, let him reap what he sowed."
It was funny. On any other day about any other Sinner, Angel would agree. He would track that logic 100%. But this time… he didn't know, the thought of abandoning Jack just twisted something wrong in his stomach. Maybe it was because Angel technically owed him a solid after that last save…
"Alright," Angel grunted. "But I'm just saying that we've still got half a hellhole to go, and we only survived the first half because of Scrooge McDuck. You really want to leave behind our best meat shield?"
Husk froze in place, his ears didn't so much as twitch. He didn't think of that. He let out a low growl, looking like he wanted to pluck out his own hairs in frustration.
"Get outta my way," He hissed, turning around. He brandished three razor-sharp cards.
Jack couldn't even see his own blade as he swiftly blurred the sword to all angles to block the attacks coming from the Scotsman. Any counterattacks Jack made were instantly deflected. Every slash, stab, or cut he performed was knocked away in a ringing of metal.
This was absurd. Never before had Jack faced an opponent who so equally matched him at every turn. Their dance of blades briefly paused as the two once again locked swords. Metal shuddered as the two foes stared each other dead in the eyes, neither was going to back down. There was no clear end to this battle in sight.
SHINK SHINK SHINK
Jack's ear twitched. He didn't risk turning his head from his opponent, but his eyes snapped towards where the foreign sound had suddenly come from. Jack and the Scotsman's battle had taken them right next to the broken remains of a building, the walls broken down leaving only columns and pillars for its skeleton. They were next to one large cement pillar in particular, one that seemed to have three playing cards suddenly embedded into the stone.
Dust crumbled off from the pillar. The sound of cracking stone grew louder as the pillar began to tip over. It was falling, and it was headed right for the Scotsman!
Jack felt adrenaline burst into his arms. He broke the blade lock, knocking away the claymore's blade, the Scotsman was wide open.
"Look out!"
Jack rammed his body into the Scotsman's, tackling the giant off his feet and pushing him out of the way! The small mountain of stone came crashing down mere milliseconds later, obliterating the ground where the Scotsman just stood.
Jack and the Scotsman crashed right into the ground, a breath finally left Jack's lungs.
"What in blazes?!" The Scotsman scrambled to push himself up, he only got as far as leaning up on his massive elbow. His raging anger whipped his head back and forth, as if looking for what the hell just happened. But the moment his gaze landed on the crumbled pillar that laid where he once stood, the anger shattered. His bushy orange eyebrows rose all the way to the top of his head, and he slowly trailed his gaze down to Jack. "Did you just…?"
Jack bolted to his feet, and he felt the wind shatter as he ran as fast as he could to get away from the Scotsman's confused form. It occurred to him too late that stone's collapse was probably assistance sent by his temporary companions. In fact, the assistance probably was meant to offer a more permanent solution to the Scottish problem.
So why didn't Jack let it? Why did he tackle the Scotsman out of the way rather than let him take the hit? Even if the giant couldn't traditionally survive it, he could regenerate like any other Sinner.
The truth was, Jack's instincts had taken over. He couldn't let a warrior meet an end such as that. He only hoped he would not regret his instinct's decision. Jack sheathed his sword back into place at his side. He found himself back at the sides of Husk and Angel Dust, all of them running in a final retreat.
"Thank you," Jack nodded to Husk.
"Don't waste time talking when you could be running," Husk didn't break his stride. His ear twitched as another explosion went off. "Or better yet, take care of those assholes trying to kill us!"
Jack nodded. He quickened his pace and pulled ahead of the others. He was now leading the charge against more Sinners as they seemingly poured out of the woodwork. Three Sinners stood in the way. Jack punched the one on his left with his right fist, and his left fist swung into the face of the Sinner on the right. Only one left. Jack leapt into a spinning roundhouse kick, his foot slammed into the Sinner's gut and sent him flying. Jack, Husk, Angel ran on unimpeded.
Two more Sinners, although they looked more preoccupied with each other than the group, but they were in the way and would become a problem once they spotted Jack and the others. Jack hopped right between them before expertly sticking out his legs in a split kick, hitting both Sinners in the chest and knocking them to the ground.
"Look!" Jack pointed. Through the chaos, he could see the building where this had all started, and the doorway they could take to relative safety. And it was a straight clear shot. "The end of our quest is within reach!"
"Fucking finally," Angel gasped, hefting Pentious' dazed body over his shoulders once more. "I think this fat fucker gained like twenty pounds since when I started carrying him."
Pentious only let out a light slurred hissing in protest.
The impromptu trio ran straight ahead, their destination locked into their minds.
WHAM
Their final rendezvous was suddenly cut out of their vision as a massive boulder slammed into the ground right in front of them, forcing them to skid to a halt. It was like a small mountain had erupted from the skies just to halt their quest.
"The fuck?" Angel spat out. "The fuck did this even come from?
"OY!"
The three turned around. About a dozen yards away was a very ticked off Scotsman, standing next to a suspiciously familiar boulder. "Ye think ye can just walk away after all that?!"
The Scotsman raised a threatening finger before leveling it straight at Jack. "You an' me have a score to settle now, fancy-pants!"
"You gotta be kidding me," Angel hissed through his teeth. "This guy is nuts!"
"You think someone who survived Hell this long is sane?" Husk asked, rhetorically.
"Ignore him," Jack glared at the Scotsman. Their battle was over now. There was no reason to continue. "All that matters is getting out of here alive."
"Finally hearing you say that is music to my ears," Husk huffed.
Jack turned away from the Scotsman and ran, trying to get around the boulder, and his companions followed.
WHAM!
Another boulder landed right in front of them, cutting them off. Jack's little group immediately skidded to a halt before whirling around in a 180, and darting off in the opposite direction hoping to try their luck on the other side.
WHAM!
Yet another boulder landed right in front of them, cutting off their escape route. Jack was beginning to wonder where the Scott was getting all these boulders. They were twice as big as the giant himself!
"Hahahahahahahaaaa!" The Scotsman hefted another giant boulder over his head, evidently pleased at seeing his prey scatter around like rats.
"Jack, this asshole is getting pretty hard to ignore!" Angel hissed.
"Get to the door," Jack clenched his fists. "I will handle this."
"I ain't saving your ass this time," Husk sneered.
Husk and Angel took off, heading straight towards the one gap left between all the fallen rocks. Jack's eyes saw the Scotsman raise a boulder over his head, ready to toss it and once again cut off his companions. Jack leapt into action, he would only get one shot at this.
The snatched a stone up off the ground. He weighed it in his hands for only a microsecond, it had good heft and weight to it. He curled back his arm, wrist snapped back for prime throwing efficiency, and threw the stone with all his might!
The rock sailed through the air like a mighty falcon until it crashed squarely into the Scotsman's face. It was not nearly enough to hurt the goliath, but it was enough to break his concentration. His hand slipped mid-throw and the boulder he heaved over his head instead came crashing down onto the Scott's dome.
Somehow, the boulder just bounced right off! As if it was just a mere softball! But the Scotsman's expression did not express that. His gaze briefly became cross-eyed, and his confident grin twisted into a dazed frown.
"Eurgh…" He teetered in place for a moment, before he tipped over. He crashed into the dirt, shaking the earth more than the boulders ever did.
Jack sighed. It was over. He had won. But… wait. The Scotsman's body was beginning to stir! His foe was merely down, not out!
Now would be the most optimal time to leave. Jack took off in the direction of his fellow hotel residents before the Scotsman could wake up.
Husk was already inside the building, surprisingly though, he was holding the door wide open and looking right at Jack, as if he had been waiting for the samurai. Angel and Pentious were nowhere to be seen, they must have gone ahead.
"I saw Nifty," Jack gasped out as he approached, finally out of breath. "She is still back there…"
"I've known that broad for over thirty years," Husk rolled his blackened eyes. "Trust me when I say this. SHE'S not the one you need to worry about."
Jack took a deep breath. He supposed the cat was right. The greatest threat out here was the Scotsman, and the maid seemed to handle him easy enough. She chose to be out here, while Angel and Sir Pentious had been cast into the fire, and they were safe now.
Jack walked past Husk and into the building. The cat closed the door behind Jack.
Jack turned his head back down the stairs, looking at the struggling spider. "Are you sure that you don't need some help?"
"I've… got this…" Angel heaved out between gasps for air, summoning the strength of all six arms to hold on to Pentious' slippery form. Despite having quite the head start on Jack, the samurai passed the duo some time ago.
"I carried the son of a bitch this far, I can handle him for two more flights." Angel grit his fanged teeth. "That'll show that one-eyed skank!"
Jack shook his head. "I do not understand. Are your actions motivated by pride or spite?"
"YES!"
Jack blinked. He understood what the spider meant, but would it not have been more grammatically correct to answer "both?" It even had the same amount of syllables.
But the spider was right. It was only two more flights of stairs until they reached the roof, and hopefully found the princess and Vaggie awaiting them. Husk had opted for just leaving on the ground floor and retreating back to the hotel. He said he didn't want to risk any more of the woman's crazy schemes. Technically, he used a much harsher term than "women" but Jack is paraphrasing.
Jack continued up the steps. He could see the doorway to the roof right in front of him. He reached out to the handle.
"How many times to we have to watch your people be killed before we make any headway?"
Jack paused, his hand inches from the door. That voice, it sounded like Vaggie's.
"I took charge today, and it all went sideways!"
Her tone was laced with anger, and frustration, but also… defeat. Was she talking to the princess?
"I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality! I'm supposed to protect you! I'm supposed to never fail you!"
Jack dropped his hand. These grand declarations felt almost familiar.
"If I can't help you, what's the point of me?"
That… stuck something inside Jack. It pulled at his very soul. This was enough eavesdropping, Angel was coming up the stairs behind him. Jack opened the door and stepped out onto the roof.
The scene he came upon was almost exactly what he expected. Vaggie's back was turned away from everything, she leaned on the short parapet wall, closed off to the entire world. Princess Charlie stared at Vaggie with a broken spirit, one hand outstretched as if in one last failed attempt to comfort a broken soul.
Whatever disagreement had happened, it weighed heavily on their hearts. And neither had any clue where to start healing. And to be honest, Jack had even less of a clue.
With a final triumphant grunt, Angel trudged up past Jack and finally made it back to the roof. Pentious slid off his shoulder like the peel of a banana and crashed to the ground. Angel cracked his back, at last free of his burden. The spider took a deep sigh though his teeth, before smiling through tired eyes in a look that could almost be called pride. "Made it."
But the princess did not congratulate Angel. Her frown did not turn upside down, and she did not burst into celebratory song. Instead, she turned away from Vaggie, walking back towards the door, head firmly locked onto the ground.
"Come on, guys," she mumbled as she walked past Angel. "Let's just go home."
"UUUUGGGHhhhh!" Angel rubbed four hands down his face. "I JUST walked up all those stairs."
Still, he complied, following after the princess. He even remembered Pentious, although he decided to give up on carrying the snake in favor of just dragging him by his large tail, Pentious's face dragging across the concrete.
Jack winced at the sound of Pentious grunts as the snake's head bounced off of each descending step. The samurai had to admit, he was impressed that the Snake was still technically conscious. But what should Jack do now? Should he follow after the others?
Jack's head turned to the sullen Vaggie. The hotel's protector was seemingly deaf to the world, the explosions and gunfire did not even make her flinch. But the samurai knew such silence did not come from mere bravery or fortitude, but deep introspection.
If I can't help you, what's the point of me?
Vaggie's words echoed in the back of Jack's mind. Those words were not pleasant to hear, especially in one's own mind. It radiated a defeat that poisoned the very soul… Jack was all too familiar.
But what could he do? Jack was a warrior, not a practitioner of comfort. What could he say to aid her ailing spirit? But Jack was the only one there, all other Sinners and demons had left. The only other option would be to let the female warrior stew in her self-loathing…
Jack began to walk forward, the clacks of his sandals may as well have been thunder in the relative silence. He came up upon the parapet wall of the building, three feet away from Vaggie. He placed his hands on the wall railings, leaning as well. Both warriors stood in silence, looking over the flame-covered streets.
"What are you still doing here?" Vaggie finally spoke, her one eye not even glancing in his direction. "The princess is going to need someone to protect her."
What an odd thing to say. "I thought you were the princess' guardian?"
"Yeah, well," Vaggie grumbled the words underneath her breath. "I'm starting to think someone else should take over."
Jack sighed. It was clear that she was in no mood for a lecture. He wasn't even sure if he could say the right thing, he was always the student, never the teacher. Take a deep breath. May as well start with unfinished business.
"I... wish to apologize."
"What?" Vaggie's sulking stare was finally broken as she looked up at Jack in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"The night we met," Jack sighed. "When I first came to the hotel, you rightly regarded me with suspicion and I did little to deter it."
"Oh, right," Vaggie mumbled like she had completely forgotten about that, and had preferred it that way. She turned back to her view of bloodshed. "Look, just… don't worry about it."
"I cannot," Jack shook his head. "My entire life my parents taught me how honor and compassion are far greater tools than rage and aggression. How one must always try for peace before resorting to war. That night, I spat in the face of those teachings."
"You're fine," Vaggie leaned her chin on her hand. "You're not the one that pulled an angelic spear on a stranger."
"Neither of us are blameless." Jack closed his eyes. "We both assumed the worst of one another and let our blades speak rather than our minds. For that, I am truly sorry."
"Well, alright," Vaggie sighed. "I forgive you or whatever. You can go now."
Jack winced. He was shot down before he could get the chance. Very well, time to switch to a different approach.
"You know," Jack's eyes traced over the battlefield below. "I do not actually disagree with your ideas for teaching trust."
"What?" That got Vaggie's attention as she actually leaned back to stare at Jack. "Seriously?"
Jack nodded. In his mind, he saw flashes of all his teachers and mentors. He saw the son of the African chief, the green-clad archer, and all his other brothers in arms. "I have been in many battles in my time, against foes and forces of nature alike. The bonds forged in the heat of battle can last a lifetime."
"Exactly," Vaggie nodded, pride starting to creep back into her face.
"However," Jack's shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. "Trust is a delicate and precious miracle that can never be forced. Such bonds are a rare breed that can not be created by just tossing men into the fire. They need time and compassion to happen naturally."
Vaggie's annoyed scowl was instantly back, he turned away from the samurai. "Time is a luxury we can't afford."
Jack turned from the bloodshed, facing directly towards Vaggie. "Why not?"
"You're smart," Vaggie's one eye trailed off, staring into the distance. The tall golden tower in the center of the city reflected off of her red iris. "You've probably figured it out by now."
Jack followed Vaggie's gaze. The golden tower was as impressive as ever. Its pristine, spotless, golden glow loomed over the red landscape. The contrast was starting to be unnerving.
Vaggie was right. Jack had heard many disturbing offhand comments here and there in his time in Hell. Each one started to fit together like the pieces of a puzzle, all he needed was the final piece. "Very well, then it seems I have to ask a different question."
Jack placed his hands upon the railing. He traced the rough texture of the stone with his fingertips. He took a deep breath. "What is Extermination Day?"
Vaggie's stance became sharper than her spear. She dug her fingers into the parapet, cracking the stone. "... It's the reason why Charlie is doing all this. It's what she's trying to stop."
Jack crossed his arms. He bowed his head, giving the signals for Vaggie to continue.
"Hell is big, but it isn't limitless," Vaggie looked over the countless shattered buildings. "That goes double for the Pride Ring. But hundreds upon thousands of Sinners come in every day with no sign of stopping. And Hell can't keep up."
Jack looked down in thought. He remembered comments about Hell suffering from overpopulation. Now it all made sense. But he knew this was not the end of the story.
"Then," Vaggie gulped, as if swallowing bile. "Heaven proposed a BRILLIANT solution to the problem."
She spoke with such visceral contempt, as if the words burned her very tongue. "Annually, for one day every year, the Angels would fly down from Heaven… and kill everyone."
"What?" Jack's mouth became dryer than the desert.
"The Angels fly in with their Angelic weapons, and slaughter anyone they can see," Vaggie growled. "They're indestructible, so the Sinners can't even fight back! It's a one-sided massacre. The Angels just kill and kill without any thought to who these people are, who they used to be!"
Perhaps it was trick of the light, but Vaggie's eye had a misty tint to it. "So many dead. No chance of regeneration, no afterlife after this. Just… nothing."
Jack's head suddenly felt heavy. He leaned further onto the wall just to keep himself standing. "Genocide…"
He remembered tales of Heaven in his childhood. How it was a paradise awaiting those who lived with honor and compassion. How the Angels were kind and gentle creatures that guided humans to their final destination.
How could this be? How could Angels be so careless and full of bloodlust? To massacre so much to a point it became an annual occasion that the denizens of Hell counted down to? These people may have chosen the wrong paths in life, but weren't they already damned to eternity of suffering? Why torture them even more?
And what of Angel Dust and Sir Pentious? Jack disagreed with their choices, but none of their actions warranted ruthless execution! What if they were one of the unlucky Sinners caught on Extermination Day? It sounded as though the Angels didn't care who they killed. Jack would have never even met the two Sinners.
Jack didn't want to believe it. He wanted to say that Vaggie was lying, constructing an elaborate story to mislead Jack. He wanted to believe that the Heaven from his childhood stories was just and good.
But he thought back to his short time in Hell. The desperation in everyone's eyes, the fear in Stolas' voice as he spoke of the Angels, Charlie and Vaggie's rushed attempts to redeem, and a giant number plastered on a golden tower that all could see. It read 1 7 3. One less than yesterday. It was a countdown. A countdown to extermination. Everything fit together. He had no choice but to believe.
"Charlie thinks that she can stop all this," Vaggie continued. "If she can prove her hotel works and actually redeem Sinners, get them into Heaven, there would be no more need for exterminations. We can stop overpopulation without resorting to senseless bloodshed."
So that's what this was all for. The princess of Hell wanted to spare her people from Heaven's massacre. She wanted to give them a second chance beyond a meaningless end. Just like how Jack wanted to save his own people from suffering at the hand of Aku. Jack felt his heart soar out to the princess' cause greater than ever before.
"But," Vaggie hissed out. "Just as Charlie got her dreams off the ground, those assholes cut our timetable in half! And now Extermination day is coming sooner than ever before."
Vaggie pulled at her snow-white hair. "She has to deal with all this bullshit, pushing herself to the brink to help her people. I'm supposed to help take the load off. Today was meant to help her relax as I carried the load, but I screwed it all up! I'm just… useless!"
Jack raised his head, this talk's true purpose coming back to him. He turned to the white-haired warrior. "You think that you are a failure?"
"How could I not be?!" Vaggie snapped. "I assaulted a potential guest, I woke up everyone with my bullshit, I had a shit lesson plan, and my last ditch attempt to fix everything was trying to get everyone killed! I failed at every possible turn!"
She panted, gasping for breath after she burst everything out in one giant scream.
Jack scratched his chin. "Well, when you put everything like that, then yes, perhaps you have failed in your endeavors."
Vaggie froze. She did not yet hear it from someone else, but that sealed it. She slumped over.
"But," Jack looked straight at her. "That does not make you a failure."
"What?" Vaggie blinked. "Were you not paying attention literally three seconds ago?"
"Perhaps you were not successful in your goals," Jack shrugged. "But that was always a possibility, no matter what steps were taken."
Vaggie stared at Jack, as if prompting him to elaborate.
Jack closed his eyes. He recalled all of his teachers and the lessons they imparted to him. Most of all, he thought of his time in the Shaolin temples and the monks who taught him a very important lesson.
"Failure is inevitable," Jack's hands grasped on to the parapet. "It is with us since our very first stumble as we take our first steps. And it is with us as we take our final breath."
"Even my very presence here is proof," Jack placed a hand on his chest. "I only stand before you now because of my failure to slay Aku, and not a moment goes by in which I do not regret it."
"We all must carry our failures with us," Jack looked straight into Vaggie's one eye. "But that does not mean that we are defined by them. I can never let my failure stop me from trying to make it right. We must embrace our mistakes, and learn from them. Failure is our oldest companion, and our greatest teacher."
Vaggie sarcastically snorted. "Yeah, well, lately all it's been teaching me lately is what a piece of shit I am."
"Then perhaps you have not been truly willing to learn," Jack stepped forward. "You seem to reject any notion of failure. You lock your mistakes away, hiding them from the world and from yourself."
Vaggie paused, she looked up at Jack and then back to the chaotic Hellscape. "So then what am I supposed to learn from this?"
"I cannot answer that," Jack shook his head. "That is for you alone to discover."
"That's not good enough!" Vaggie yelled. "You talk like you have all the answers, so just tell me! What am I doing wrong? How can I fix this? How can I be good enough for Charlie?!"
Silence reigned. The only thing that could be heard was the sounds of far off battle, and the panted breaths of Vaggie. Jack took a single step forward, and then another, and another until he stood right in front of Vaggie. The white-haired one craned her head up to look the samurai in the eyes.
"Do you believe in her?" Jack asked.
"What?" Vaggie stuttered.
"Do you believe in her dream?" Jack asked again. "Do you believe that it's possible to redeem a demon's soul?"
"I-" Vaggie shook her head, but she faced Jack's stare with zero hesitation. "Of course I do."
"Then that is all you need," Jack nodded. "Let the princess know that she is believed in, that she is cherished."
"If you do that as much as you can," Jack placed a hand on his fellow warrior's shoulder. "You will never be a failure."
Vaggie looked into Jack's eyes, searching for any sign of deception or false encouragement. But Jack's gaze never faltered.
She sighed, finally looking away. "And what about today? What about trying to teach everyone how to trust?"
Jack sighed. "It was a valiant effort, but if it did not succeed today, then it is what it is. It only means we must try again another day."
Vaggie's gaze fell to the floor. "I'm not sure if Extermination day will wait for another day. There isn't enough time…"
Not enough time. A phrase Jack was very familiar with. All the mistakes Jack had made in Hell, all the unneeded battle, rationalizing it with how he had no time to consider anything else. He flashed back to his childhood, constantly wanting to abandon his training and rush back home to face Aku head on, sword or no sword. All because there wasn't enough time.
Jack shook his head. "There is never enough time. There will never be enough time. All we can do is remain true to ourselves, and keep a steady pace as we move forward, lest we crash and burn."
"Stay true to myself, huh?" For the first time, Vaggie looked up at Jack with the faintest hint of a small smile. "I guess I can try that for a bit."
Jack smiled. It was clear that the battle in Vaggie's mind was far from over, but at least this was an improvement over her sulking in silence.
"Good," Jack nodded as he took his hand off her shoulder. "We should return to the hotel for now. The others will most likely be waiting for us."
The two warriors traveled to the hotel in silence. But it wasn't awkward silence or tense silence. It wasn't comfortable either, it was just… silence. Made for quiet introspection.
Jack's eyes only briefly glanced over to the stoic Vaggie. Her body language portrayed complete neutrality. Only someone like Jack could see the storm currently raging in her mind.
Jack had meant what he said before. Even he had doubts about the princess' hopes, the only one that could truly give Charlie the support she needed was someone like Vaggie. As long as Vaggie stayed true to that, any other services she could offer would just be a bonus.
They were coming upon the hotel just as Jack finished his thought. It was much easier to get here when not fighting an acid rainstorm. Hm, maybe he should bring that up to the princess about building roads or a staircase. Being denied redemption due to intense weather sounded like it would discourage most Sinners from even trying.
Jack walked up to the familiar double doors and realized that he was all alone. He turned around, seeing Vaggie had hung behind, standing far away from the door.
Jack walked back to his fellow warrior. "What is wrong?"
"Nothing just…" Vaggie sighed. "I know we just had this big emotional talk about embracing your failures and facing your mistakes and all that. I'm just REALLY not looking forward to facing everyone after all that."
"Well," Jack placed a hand on Vaggie's shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You will at least not face them alone."
Vaggie rolled her eye and brushed off Jack's hand. "Okay, now you're just being cheesy."
Jack chuckled. "I have been told I tend to do that."
At the very least, Vaggie seemed a lot less nervous about entering the hotel. The two walked under the scarlet awning and up to the double doors. Odd, there seemed to be a loud noise emanating from inside that Jack didn't notice before.
Vaggie blinked. "Is that… laughter?"
Jack grabbed the knob and pushed the doors open. The main lobby looked the same as ever, but as Jack walked inside and turned to the left, he saw a most unexpected sight.
The parlor was filled with laughing Sinners. Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, and even Nifty were all chucking like old pals catching up over drinks.
"A-and then," Angel gasped out between guffaws, sitting out on the couch. "When that big guy just started wailing on you! He went at it for what felt like fifteen minutes!"
"Ah, yes!" Pentious nodded along. "With the dismembered arm, of course! That was… particularly unpleasant."
"I really liked that part," Nifty giggled, lying like a school girl on the coffee table kicking her feet back and forth in the air.
"Yeah, well at least you proved you can take a beating like a champ," Husk grinned, a bottle halfway to his lips. "You did alright, new guy."
"And whenever you retell the story, you can brag about how you broke his weapon with your face." Angel grinned.
"Oh?" Pentious perked up, as if actually considering it. His face broke into a proud grin, with a hint of a bashful humbleness. "I sssuppose I did get into a bit of the old 'rough and tumble' today. I haven't been in such a hands-on scrap in years! Er…"
Pentious turned to Angel. "And thank you very much for pulling me out there."
"You are so lucky I'm too tired to make innuendos." Angel chuckled with the shake of his head. "Besides, to be honest, it's Mister Samurai you should really be thanking."
"Crazy son of a bitch practically dragged us halfway across Hell to save you two," Husk laughed. "But he did make it pretty easy to run away while holding off the Bagpipes of Doom."
Angel's eyes lit up as they landed on the samurai in question eavesdropping on them. "Well, well, well, speak of the devil. First time I said that ironically down here too."
"If it ain't Mr. Goody-two-sandals himself," Husk flashed Jack a small smile. "Decided to come back to the war zone hotel after all, Jack?"
"Um, yes," Jack said with pleasant surprise. He looked around at the gathered Sinners, none of them showing a hint of a threatening glance. "You all seem to be recovering well."
"Why but of courssse!" Pentious proudly preened his scales, looking as healthy and not-pulverized as he did this morning. "It will take more than a beating from brute from across the pond to put down the great Sssir Pentiousss!"
"Keep talking like that, and he might just show up for round two," Angel laughed, and Pentious suddenly looked very eager to find the nearest hiding spot.
"Your back must be pretty sore from carrying these assholes all day," Husk chuckled at the samurai.
"My back is quite fine, actually," Jack found a smile on his face. "You should not underestimate all your contributions. This victory was earned by all of us."
"Heh," Husk's wings shuffled behind him. "If you say so. I'd pour you a drink if I didn't drain us out last week."
"Er, that is alright," Jack nervously shifted his eyes away. "It is probably for the best. I do not really partake in alcohol all that often."
"Then you and me are going to get along just fine," Husk brought the bottle to his lips, yet he did not furiously chug as he did before.
"Huh," Vaggie walked up. "I'll be damned."
"VAGGIE!" A white and red torpedo suddenly tackled the Hotel protector. The blur dissipated to reveal the princess of Hell had scooped up her guard into a hug. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry for leaving things the way I did! You were talking bad about yourself and I didn't know what to say-"
"Charlie," Vaggie smiled, placing her hands on the princess' face. "It's okay."
Charlie smiled, setting Vaggie down gently on the floor.
"I'm the one who should be apologizing," Vaggie sighed. "I should have been more open to listening to you, but I was so wrapped up in handling everything myself I-"
"Hey," in an instant switch of roles, Charlie placed a hand on Vaggie's shoulders. "It's okay. I'm figuring this out as I go too. The important thing is that we're in this together,"
She leaned down, making sure to look Vaggie straight in the eye. "As partners."
Vaggie smiled. She gave a slow nod. "As partners."
"And besides," Charlie turned to gesture a hand at the mini-party in the parlor. "Look what your exercise has caused."
"Yeah," Vaggie's eye filled with something that could almost be called pride. She cleared her throat. "But I can't take all the credit."
Vaggie turned to the samurai, a grateful smile on her face. "By the sound of it, Jack really lead them by example today."
"Of course!" Charlie gasped. She immediately turned to Jack. She bowed her head to him. "Thank you so much for attending today's lesson with us. You were a fantastic addition."
"The honor was mine, princess," Jack returned the bow with one of his own. "There is no need for thanks."
"Still," Charlie bounced up in down in place. "I decided to prepare you a little something as thanks for all your hard work today."
She reached behind her back, and pulled out something that could have logically fit behind her thin frame, the wide brim of a pristine straw hat.
Jack's eyebrows rose. He reached out and took the straw clothing in his hand. He experimentally weighed it, it was perfect. "A brand-new hat?"
"Nope, same hat!" Charlie beamed. "Just repaired with a little bit of sorcery. Do you like it?"
Jack smiled. "It is perfect, princess."
Charlie face brightened up like a sunrise adorned in rainbows.
"Well," Jack briefly lowered the hat in one hand as he looked up to the princess. "Now that I have fulfilled your request, I must continue my own journey to find a way home."
"Right," Charlie face immediately deflated. Her face looked away as nervous energy overtook her. "About that…"
Jack raised an eyebrow. What was wrong? Did he say something to offend her?
Charlie rocked herself on the heels of her feet, looking like she was trying to fight off a sudden burst of nervous energy. She took a deep breath before suddenly blurting out "I would like to offer you a permanent residence at the hotel!"
Jack's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. "Excuse me?"
Jack blinked. He was caught off guard by the sudden silence. Apparently he was the only one who spoke up in protest of the princess' offer.
"I would like to give you a permanent room," Charlie smiled. "Your stay becomes more than one night, and you would live here in the hotel."
"But I am not a Sinner," Jack shook his head. "It would not be proper for me to take residence here."
"As I told Angel, this place isn't just for Sinners," Charlie retorted. "It's for anyone who needs it."
"You are far too generous, princess," Jack sighed. "I cannot, in good conscience, take advantage of your hospitality when I have nothing to offer you."
"Oh," Charlie's eyes lit up. "I wouldn't say that."
Charlie took hold of Jack's shoulder, turning him back to the parlor full of palling around Sinners. "The point of what I'm trying to do here is to teach everyone how to be a better person. I think everyone would really benefit if they had someone like you to look up to."
Jack blinked. "Look up to?"
"Yes," Charlie's teeth practically sparkled. "Vaggie said it herself, you led by example today. You pushed them to be better, and they've made better progress today than I've ever seen before!"
Jack looked down to the floor. "I only did what I thought was right."
"And that's exactly what makes you so perfect for this!" Charlie sparkled with wide eyes.
"Also," Vaggie cleared her throat rather loudly. Jack turned to the white-haired warrior. She looked uncharacteristically bashful, refusing to look Jack in the eye as she rubbed at her arm.
"It's come to my recent attention that I might be a bit… rusty in terms of combat," Vaggie muttered, barely loud enough for Jack to hear. "So… maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea for me to have a… sparring partner of your caliber, just to keep my skills sharp."
Jack stared at Vaggie in shock. Charlie was practically vibrating in place with pure joy. Neither had expected the guard to speak up.
Jack turned back to the other Sinners, Pentious, Angel Dust, Husk… Could he really do this? Could he help save them? And by what, just being himself? His mind drifted to the thoughts of the exterminations. So many souls lost before they could even give themselves a second chance. He thought of princess Charlie, helpless as she watched her people suffer.
If he did this, if he could help even a little in proving Charlie was right and redemption was possible, it could change all of Hell. He could save countless souls. But then his mind drifted to his own people. His subjects broken and beaten, dying within the mines of Aku, and the thousands more that would join them.
Jack closed his eyes. "Princess Charlie, your dream is one of the most noble goals I have seen, and I would be a tremendous honor to be a part of it."
Jack turned to Charlie. "But you are forgetting one very important thing. I am already on a quest of my own, to find a way back home and slay the evil that sent me here."
Jack gestured all around to the hotel. "And my quest cannot be completed by staying in one place alone. My journey must take me to the farthest reaches of Hell, through all of the seven rings and beyond."
"That's okay," Charlie's smile didn't falter. "So long as you come back here when you're done."
Jack blinked. He shook his head. "You do not understand. I must chase every lead to the fullest extent. Each search could take days, weeks, even months to complete. I would hardly even be able to stay in the hotel at all."
Charlie nodded. "That's alright."
Jack stared at the princess. What was she talking about? Did she realize what she was saying?
"You're free to leave whenever you want," Charlie smiled. "And you can take as long as you need to search whatever you can. If you don't show up for a month so you can search all of Wrath, that's okay."
Charlie looked down, staring at her clasped hands. "It's just… if you ever run into a dead end or if you fight a battle that's too much for you, I just want there to be a place for you to come back to."
Charlie's smile shrunk, but it still held that sincere glow. "I want you to have a place where you can feel safe, a place where you can come to take a deep breath and relax, even if only for day! I want you to have a place to call home."
"I…" Charlie looked up, she stared at him with great pleading eyes. "I want to help you."
Jack turned away. A place to call home? In Hell? Impossible. Even with the princess' hospitality, Jack could never feel at ease in this damned plane. Still, what she said held water. Having a base of operations could prove useful. Just for at least one constant he knew he could somewhat rely on. And having it so close to the city would allow him plenty of opportunities to keep an eye on I.M.P.
Jack sighed. He turned to Charlie with a smile. He placed his repaired hat upon his head. "Where do I sign in?"
And that is a wrap! Phew, nine chapters, and I've finally set up the status quo! So in case you couldn't tell, I've decided to go as a sort of middle ground between Samurai Jack's structure and the shows of the Helluverse. Jack is still gonna go on long journey's for days on end, getting plenty of use out of his nomadic lifestyle, but occasionally as breaks between big adventures, he's gonna return to the Hazbin Hotel to rest and recuperate. And when he has the time, check in on the imps and maybe even tag along on a job or two to see if they're behaving themselves.
I've got a lot of creative leeway to work with. The show left me five months of offscreen shenanigans to work with, and I hope I can make something of that.
Now, for the part you all want for me to talk about… THE SCOTSMAN! Beloved fan favorite character of Samurai Jack finally makes his debut in this fic, and it is painfully short. Seriously, writing for him was an absolute blast. I even found a useful website online that taught me all kinds of slang words the Scottish use to insult people. (If any words I used were slurs of some kind, I'm sorry, and please let me know, so I can change it.)
That being said, sorry if the Scotsman's role in this chapter came off as too antagonistic. And I'm sorry if it was a bit much to see fan-favorite Scotsman so ruthlessly beat up also fan-favorite character Sir Pentious. But in my defense, it was super funny when I pictured it in my head. Especially when I mentally paired it with that Mark Hamill audio of the Joker getting beaten up by Batman in that one Robot Chicken sketch, you know the one.
I also figured it fits as this is a Scotsman who is still a Sinner in Hell. Had to make him a touch even rougher to really fit in. Although, I did try my best to imply that there might be a bit more to this Scotsman than meets the eye. I've got a whole new backstory planned out for this guy, that we unfortunately just didn't have the time to get into today.
You've also no doubt noticed that I didn't seem to give the Scotsman any kind of special Sinner look. I briefly tossed a few ideas around in head, icluding making him some kind of whale hybrid. But then I started really looking at Scotsman's design from the actual show. Can we all agree, that disreguarding artstyle and looking at the Scotsman's design from an objective viewpoint, the guy does NOT look like a normal human. The dude's top half is basically a circle that is five times bigger than his lower half. Without the suspension of disbelief, some of the shots of the Scotsman in eary seasons look absurd in the best possible way. So I figured what the heck, why not just keep his exagerrative design in for my fic. Sinners like Mimzy and Rosie are basically human save for a few features, why not the Scotsman?
Speaking of which, doubly sorry for anyone who thought this meant that the Scotsman was going to join the Hotel this chapter. Sorry, but that really just didn't gel with what I had planned, and it would just be too much and distract from Jack and Vaggie's heart-to-heart, which I also really like.
I'll admit that the contrast between the two halves of this chapter are a bit odd. While foreshadowed in the last chapter, Vaggie and Jack's confrontation doesn't really have anything to do with the Scotsman. In fact, the Scotsman's part is rather lengthy and distracts from Vaggie's arc quite a bit. But then I would have to just cut it out and there's no way in hell that was happening.
So yeah, in my opinion, it's a bit too early for the Scotsman to join the MAIN cast. And unfortunately, that also means his awesome bromance with Jack also needed to be put on hold as that would just completely derail from the main plot. But don't worry, Jack hasn't seen the last of the Scotsman by a long shot. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter as an appetizer of sorts for the future.
Now for some not so exciting news. I'm not sure how long it'll be before next chapter. I've got a LOT to consider on where exactly I want to take this story next and what arc to tackle. I've also got to be careful about burnout, not to mention all my real life projects that aren't just a fun hobby. But I've still got plenty of exciting plans for this story don't worry. Maybe even a one-off spin-off-esque Halloween special chapter just for fun. Let me know what you think.
Make sure to leave a review, I love them all. Until next time.
Thanks for reading!