[prp] gtfo — jack/chel (fin)

[medigel]

Chel had once accused him of using later as a way of saying never, and at first he had been offended. But the date had been put off continuously even before he had knuckled down to pushing her on a shopping trip and secured his own suit and tie: the clones often took up his time, Chel had been put on several small Death missions to ease her into her new division, their sleep schedules were massively screwed over far too often, and sometimes he just wasn't in the mood to talk. Then in a one-two swing, the knights vision and the attack on the island had left them winded for even longer. Jack wouldn't say it was his fault it took so long--well, not completely at least.

But finally the day came when he alerted Chel that they were going on that damn date because they both needed to get away from the damn island, god ******** damn. Once assured the damage to her room had been minimal, Jack went and got himself ready. Plumbing was poor for the upper level, so the communal shower added an extra delay, but despite his initial rush to get the hell off Deus, his patience held. Chel was with Abbi anyway, and he wasn't allowed to even get near her room until she passed the Moon's critical eye.

Once sharply dressed, he sat on the edge of his bed and idly used his phone, skimming Twitter, looking over the address he had stuck in his notes, and deleting several photos he'd forgotten about during his time as an incessant bimbo. He was ******** if Chel ever decided to use them as blackmail. Well, to be fair he was ******** period in most any respect when it came to Chel, literally and metaphorically.

Quote:

Text to Catwoman: Are you ready yet?

 

[chiickadee]

Chel had been the one to suggest they go on a god damn ******** date on their walk back from the courtyard to her dorm and while surveying the damage of her room she reiterated over and over about how she needed to get off this ********' piece of s**t- d'you know the last time I got off this shithole for me? Like- never!

So a few days later they were both more than happy to cash their workaholic stockpiled leave days into a two day "******** you deus" trip. The bet she'd lost really became more of an excuse than an actual event.

Abbi certainly didn't let her think that though. She made quite a fuss and Chel had no barriers for such adorable enthusiasm. Chel purposely dragged getting ready out for at least and hour or two longer just to watch Abbi flounder and chatter and be the cutest guard dog. There were five thousand too many pictures taken and many lectures on how to have a very romantic time, all of which Chel entertained with appreciation for her friend.

Chel texted him from her bathroom, wherein she was applying the last bits of touch up to her makeup (it was somewhat harder to do with a cracked mirror, but Chel hadn't had time to replace it).

Quote:

Text to bp: ya thiuk so. doin makup but u can wait n room

Quote:

Text to bp: abs left but shes totes hidin arond the cornr she thiuks shes sly lol

 

[medigel]

Quote:

Text to Catwoman: Of course.

Springing to his feet (the eagerness to see her and to leave returning), Jack pocketed his phone, double checked that he had both his ID and his money, restyled his hair for perhaps the sixth time, applied cologne, and headed up the stairs.

If Abbi really was there, he couldn't see her; she was getting better at hiding, and he felt the fact was a little ominous.

Letting himself in, Jack went to take a seat on the couch, carefully settling down to avoid wrinkling his suit too much. "Tell me she's not going to stalk us on this date too," he said. "I'd rather have some alone time for once."
 

[chiickadee]

Chel laughed from the bathroom, picking up her pace because in a stupid way, she was giddy to see him too. "Naw that sweetheart's gonna stay home and take care of her throat. Talked her a** off and broke it again."

Out from behind the door she walked and it was highly unceremonious. Her gait hinted that she had no clue how to walk in these heels (she had a pair of borrowed sparkly flats in her purse from Abbi because according to the redhead there was no way she was going to last in heels but you still had to look FIERCE), and she held herself with the same awkwardness that she did in the clothing store, but at least Chel now had a hint of style to her.

Her hair had been pinned back with small (fake) diamond bobby pins to secure it in place and make it look like it sparkled ever so slightly when she turned her head. The hair itself was a deep black color to match the dress; the only exception being a long green section in the front (it was Jack's exact shade, naturally). Her makeup was on ******** point down to the red lipstick and toner shade. Oddly enough, she'd chosen not to cover up the scars. People would stare, but she didn't feel it necessary to cater to their needs. This was a date for Jack and he liked her scars so she kept them.

"Eat your heart out," she said, holding up her arms and turning slightly. "'Cause I look bomb as ********>."

She was, of course, in the same motion drinking in Jack's subtle efforts; he didn't have to try hard to look good (in fact, Chel thought him best in nothing at all), but the tiny changes didn't go unnoticed and she had comments to make about them, but she figured she'd let Jack talk first.  

[medigel]

She had to wait longer than usual for him to. Jack stared at her--more than that, drank her in from lights scattered in her surprisingly dark hair, to the heels he had carefully picked out to match the dress whose slit was the complete opposite of conservative. The more he studied her, the more alien she seemed to become, the more art-like: the scars and marks of strain fell away when the eyes were drawn elsewhere, to the radiant red lips, the bright blue eyes, the green streaks in her bangs. He felt a surge of envy and affection the more he burned the image in his mind: women always did end up looking better. Not even the finest suits could compare.

Nevertheless, Jack was glad she didn't bother trying to hide her scars. The imperfections were what made her Chel.

At length he got to his feet, his lips tugging to one side in a smile as he applauded her. A change of clothes had influenced the way he would approach the date; that, and Owain had put in a personal request to continue with the florid, romantic chivalry. "You outdid yourself, Chel," he said, in his mind's eye imagining a very different scenario playing out but in reality merely taking her hand and kissing it, his eyes still locked on hers. She could see his cufflinks were chrome and skull-shaped--a silly yet personal touch. "I have no words to describe your radiance."
 

[chiickadee]

Chel rolled her eyes so pointedly that they might as well have been verbal. She wasn't suited to that kind of fancy talk and the smirk on her lips revealed that regardless of how much paint she splattered onto her canvas, she was still very much Chel underneath it.

She tugged the hand upwards to the small of her back and put her forearms on his chest. "Well don't tell my boyfriend 'cause he gets jealous real easy, but you a pretty handsome stranger yerself."

If he wanted something more out of her, he wouldn't get it; Chel was a master of delayed gratification and the wink she gave him only solidified that fact. He was absolutely no exception to the rule, and she moved out of his grasp as quickly as she had entered it, leaving him high and dry while she picked up the purse Abbi had prepared for her.

"I like the skulls man," she told him as she took a step towards the door. She was dreading having to walk all the way to the lighthouse looking absolutely silly (Deus Ex Machina was no place for ballgowns), but she was eager to leave nonetheless.  

[medigel]

"I'm already jealous: I only get to have you for a night," he replied, perfectly pleased with himself and with her. Fantasies were fantasies, at least for now. His grin simply grew at the wink.

"Thank you. The green is a nice touch."

At the door he offered Chel his arm, and this close their eagerness seemed to feed each other. He could only imagine the self-consciousness Chel would feel along the stretch to the lighthouse, but at least arm in arm they would be presented as a united couple, not two formally dressed hunters attempting to eke out a night of normality and freedom--or, if still the latter, at least would be doing so together.

Jack was as silently self-assured as he usually was as they made their way out, if not moreso. A suit had a way of making a man feel like he was better, much in the way his mood shifted whenever he put on his Deus uniform. Clothes mattered. It was why he projected satisfaction and pride for Chel as they walked; nobody understood what he saw in her, and that was one of his greatest and closest secrets from the world. "How do you feel wearing that dress?" Jack had to ask, stealing glances.
 

[chiickadee]

"Green's like a joke get it- 'cause you're a part of me?" Half a joke, half a meaningful gesture; Chel always did things in a way that allowed the beholder to be the judge.

The dress was annoying to drag across campus, and Chel eventually got fed up and held one end of it in a balled hand. The other hand curled under Jack's arm, too familiar to ignore the freedoms he alloewd. Unlike Jack, she didn't find solidarity in the gesture; in fact the whole thing made her skin crawl. She didn't like being viewed as a couple unit, she liked her separation and the more she fell into it (and fell was the correct word to use, because it wasn't a push it was more like a soft descent that she couldn't help but continue) the more it caged her. Owain had been right, though not necessarily in the way he'd intended.

At the very least she didn't show it. Her head was held as highly as Jack's, because she'd never forgive herself if she let him be without his prize. She wanted to make something worth seeing for him.

"Eh?" His words broke her illusion and she met his glances with full eye contact. "Oh. S'not that bad. Plus I like that I can be like-" She actually whipped the front open from the slit for a single moment. "-BAM let's have sex." Then she started laughing and all of the actions brought back the immaturity that characterized her features. "Also kinda makes me feel like I should be named like ... Chauncey or some bullshit like that, y'feel me?"

Upon finally reaching the lighthouse, Chel let the dress drop again (now that it wasn't in danger of grass stains) and said, "So where you takin' me?"  

[medigel]

"Owain says you look beautiful, by the way." He was well aware the giant's opinion tended to weigh in a lot, though Jack had to paraphrase the lengthy discourse on Chel's every aspect.

He laughed along with her and squeezed her arm in response to her explanation, unwilling to smear her makeup with a kiss this early into the night. "Chauncey," Jack repeated with another incredulous sound. "You look more like an Evelynn or an Anastasia to me, and I your ever faithful Rutherford."

They received some looks as they ascended to the lighthouse, almost all of which were on Chel; she'd certainly become acquainted with some of the usual portal techs and was striking a very different figure tonight. After giving the coordinates to the one currently manning the board, he simply told her, "You'll see." Never not making attempts to be mysterious.

On the other side of the portal, they emerged into the usual back alley location that allowed hunters to covertly slip into the populace. Car horns and the sounds of pedestrians filled the air, along with the tang of various food places and smoke. Bright lights beckoned them to different areas of the city, attracting swarms of bugs in the surprisingly mild summer eve air. Having been on Deus for too long, the sheer life going on here was almost a culture shock in comparison.

Jack led her, by hand or without it, down a block from their location, double checking street signs as they crossed. Ahead a tall building loomed, vibrating with the sound of muffle music and illuminated by a soft golden glow through the windows. The entrance was manned by a sharply dressed woman, and after a short conversation with him, she checked her list, nodded, and allowed them inside with a tic of her pen. The first floor was filled with round tables and cushioned booths, dimly lit and with an antiquated deco that matched marble tiles to intricately patterned walls: murmured conversations punctuated the dull background noise of music above, a raised stage was host to a lonely upright piano and mic, and most striking was the large convex dome on the ceiling that was decorated with an assortment of constellations.

"First floor is the restauraunt," Jack explained, anticipating her reaction hopefully. "The second floor is the bar and club."  

[chiickadee]

If there were looks in the portal, there were far more looks on the streets. They were quite literally emerging from an alley, Jack was dazzling and Chel was scarred radiance. An odd duo by Deus standards and even odder in a world that didn't have viable explanations for a fully scarred body, or even the lash across Jack's neck.

She let him do most of the talking, standing a few feet behind him and trying not to look like he's with me was written across her face. "You got me in this get up to take me to a ********' club?" she snorted, following him in and looking out of place as always. "s**t I shoulda just worn the usual."

But she had her eyes on the ceiling and she knocked her head against his arm on the shaved side, careful not to upset the bobby pins. "You a*****e."  

[medigel]

"A high end club," he corrected her, grinning at her reaction. "Closer to spy movie than grunge documentary." Jack gestured grandly. "Welcome to The Sidereal. Do you want to eat first, or do you want to check out the second floor?"  

[chiickadee]

"Club's a club," Chel responded gruffly, "But I want grub~"

Then she started laughing at her own joke because it rhymed.  

[medigel]

Jack wasn't sure whether the punny titles of 70% of the meals listed on the menu was quaint or eyeroll inducing, but he rolled with it. Stars wouldn't have normally been what made him choose a place, but despite the hardships and stress and awkwardness faced in China, that night had meant something to him. And he was, as Jack was starting to reluctantly coming to terms with, a sentimental b*****d.

After ordering the appropriate wine for them to toast with, he checked his phone to clear a text message from one of the trainees he worked with earlier and snorted as he passed by Twitter. "Your cousin's being extremely gay again."
 

[chiickadee]

Chel on the other hand spent the first part of the seating feeling continually awkward and out of place. It was easy enough to play a character, it was harder to believe you actually them. The prices next to all of the food items didn't help and she found herself tapping her nails on the table anxiously.

"Probably 'cause he is," Chel said casually, tweeting on her own before throwing her phone back in her purse. "Aren't we supposed t'be starin' into each other's eyes?" she asked. "No more work and stuff."

The menu was casually pushed in front of her for the moment.  

[medigel]

"So that thing with the fatass in that one vision wasn't just a random change?" he asked as he put his phone away. "Unsurprising but good to know, seeing as he killed me in another one. Note to self: Axten probably wants me dead."