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"Not so much. Intimidation equals security from others who would pose a danger, attitude is a side effect of being physically attractive, sharp words meaning honesty..." Passing her a mildly reproachful look at her answer, he fixed his glasses up and managed to back out and try a new article.

"Ah, this one has a guide to various types!" he exclaimed. "Hmmm...'industry a*****e'...'nice guy a*****e'...'typical a*****e' seems to be a fit, but..." Owain snorted. "No, perhaps this one is better: 'sensitive a*****e.'" He read her the little blurb and sighed afterwards because it sounded unfortunately true. "In the end it says they are not worth it."

Owain gave her a doubtful look: while "a*****e" was a lot more nuanced than he previously thought, he had a hard time categorizing her as one. But he hummed and nodded slightly in agreement as far as letting her decide who to care for.

"What would views matter?" he asked curiously. "For popularity? Hrmm. Perhaps we should consult one more article—"

A different shrill beep began to echo through the trees. This one came from Jack's alarm rather than Chel's bracelet. The Lifer jerked as if from a trance, shut it off, and turned his head to look at them. "Ten minutes left," he called, yawning. "We should head back."

The giant creaked as he took Chel's hands and got to his feet. "Only a prayer, sweet Chelsea: that you always find what you seek." Dusting himself off, he turned to Jack and asked, "Would you like a ride back, dear one?"

"Would I like a what?"

Owain chuckled at the half asleep look the Lifer wore and turned to Chel next. "Mayhaps the lady would like a ride instead?"

Beaming, he pulled his entrenched toes out from the diet and knelt, gesturing for Chel to climb his back. "You may use my horns to steady yourself," he suggested, meaning the branches jutting out from the top of his skull. Leaves and moss were more abundant on his back; it wouldn't be too uncomfortable, and there were a few grooves she could try to fit her feet or legs on.

Once she was situated, Owain slowly stood up and walked to Jack, who was somewhere between dazed and amused as he eyed them. "You need to be careful," he said as he pocketed his phone and turned his head set off again. "W-Type golems aren't the most stable, and if you end up breaking—"

"There is nothing to fear," the giant said merrily. "I am aware of my limits." Without further ado, he scooped Jack up into his arms bridal style, the man making a surprised and indignant sound as he was plucked up, and began to stride out of the forest and down the path at a brisk walk.

In seconds the surprise turned to a more characteristic scowl and glare combo that was thrown at them both.

"Were we—Oh, yes! We were considering places to have the ceremony," Owain said quickly, giving an unsubtle wink to Chel. "I personally recommend that it be outside if possible. To be wedded in sight of all the elements..." He have a dreamy sigh.

"Ha ha ha." Jack wriggled in the giant's grasp, trying to put some distance between him and Chel's face. One of his hands clutched at his headphones possessively, protecting it from the rough skin. "Do I want to know what you two actually talked about? I have enough to deal with without you two gossiping."

"Disgusting. Good to know you only like me for my weapon, but he's already spoken for," Jack said dryly as he stopped moving. "Now let go, Craft, I'm not going anywhere."

Owain hummed with amusement as he moved along at a casual walk; even that seemed relatively fast given the length of his strides. Every step sent a small tremor through his leafy hair. "What were you doing as we talked, dear one?" he asked.

"Enjoyed the quiet, obviously." He turned his head to the side, watching as the grass flew past.

"Uh-huh. Yeah."

That was it. No angry retort, no accusative looks. Jack continued to gaze out, at best showing mild annoyance but strangely calm for someone who normally hated giving up his innermost thoughts, let alone through a third party. He already knew that by letting Owain talk to her, some things would get thrown to the surface; he was being quiet for the moment, trying to get a read on them without being obvious about it. Sure he'd get a much better picture once his weapon was back in his head, but Jack was a man who liked knowing and asap.

Owain probably hadn't mentioned the cruel satisfaction he had derived from said facts if she was this nonchalant. Or maybe he had and Chel, as always, just took it with a shrugging acceptance. He didn't know how to feel about it either way. The fights were done and over with after all. The only one left to think about was whatever Peyton was asking of him, one of several topics he had been considering for most of the time the pair had been off talking.

"Craft, the only thing you have prime reservations on is being an idiot," he said. Then he shot Owain a glance, which the giant took peaceably. "Speaking of, what else did he spill?"

"Naturally," he sighed. "You know he'll tell me anyway, right?"

"Perhaps and perhaps not."

Jack didn't believe him. Owain would probably feed him bits and pieces until Jack caved and shared his thoughts, at which point his partner would do the same; it was predictable.

The labs came into view soon enough. The giant's steps began to shorten as if doing so would by him more time, but eventually Owain stopped at the steps leading up and crouched, gently letting Jack back down. Jack grumbled under his breath and smoothed his clothes and hair out, checking again that his possessions hadn't gotten scuffed by the impromptu lift back.

"I would like to come out more often, if possible," Owain commented amiably.

"We'll see."