-Laurens van der Post

John's annoyance had reached a peak by the time the familiar sight of the clearing came into view, and despite Maera's enthusiastic greeting, John couldn't help but brood. As the Neko furiously rubbed herself against his thighs, John’s gaze passed over the two women he'd brought along with him.

"Every single creature I create she either wants to enslave or exterminate… she's such a fucking zealot!"

"Father, why did we run away? They had a small advantage in numbers but most of them smelled quite weak. I believe that if we had taken the red-headed one by surprise, we could have easily skewered most of them before-"

"Um, we don' really wanna fight 'em," Seras interjected, poking Sophia on the shoulder, "they're kinda our friends. Sorta. When they don' wanna **** us."

"Maybe we should fight them," John growled, clenching a fist. "Would do some fucking good. That crimson bitch hasn't been spanked since she was a babe, I'll bet - spare the rod, spoil the child, and she's beyond rotten at this point."

"Um… M-Master, maybe you should-"

"Should what? Plant my palm across the side of her face?!"

Status Effect Gained: Shard of Bishamonten: Activated [10%]
Strength, Agility, Endurance, and Libido increased by 10!
Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma decreased by 15!

"Y-you should calm down… you're scarin' everyone."

John processed the notification and Seras' warning at the same time, slowly casting his eyes downward. Maera had ceased her grinding long enough to gaze up at him with the widest eyes he'd ever seen her make, somewhere between awe and terror. John had to consciously unclench his fist and focus only on his breathing for several seconds before the follow-up notification finally appeared.

Status Effect Lost: Shard of Bishamonten: Activated [10%]
Strength, Agility, Endurance, and Libido decreased by 10!
Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma increased by 15!

"Sorry… this Shard of Bishamonten is still acting up. Wish there was a way to control it, but for now just try to keep me calm. Tricia says I wouldn't hurt anyone, but I wouldn't chance it," John's grimace of regret slowly turned into a soft, apologetic smile as he reached down and began to pat Maera's head, "You're all far too precious to me for that."

"Myaster could never hurt us," Maera said, though she seemed obviously relieved by his change in attitude. She went back to nuzzling her cheek into his knee while stroking along his thigh, and John turned his attention to those around him.

"So… I basically just screamed at the people trying to keep us safe. They deserved it, but I did it all the same. Now what?"

Silence fell across the camp. Understandably, only Seras really understood what he was talking about - Sophia only knew those she'd just met as the people threatening them, and the rest had not been present for the former conversation.

"Well… they already 'ated me, so I don't really see this as all that new," Seras offered, shrugging helplessly. "If you wanna make amends, just tell 'em 'ow good Sophia is at fightin'. Seems to be the only thing Moira really cares about."

"If they wish to harm Father, I will carve out my throat with my own claws before I ever serve them," Sophia spat, turning her head aside and snarling with disgust.

"Nobody is 'serving' the Order."

Even as John spoke the words, he couldn't say that they were entirely true. He'd begun to fight for his independence, but all the same he was still rather beholden to the Order. Still, if it meant the containment or eradication of any of his Purified creations, that wouldn't last long.

"We're allies. That's all - if they want to make enemies over this, we will. I don't… really want to fight the Order, especially since Lord Brighton is apparently ridiculously - like, crazy - strong, but I will if it comes to it. Go down swinging and all that."

"Do you really wanna go at it alone? I mean, I've got yo' back an' all, but there's no tellin' what's waitin' for us. These Cabal bastards already 'ave us on edge, an'…" Seras trailed off, but John understood fully what she was implying. The Albidian Society was out there somewhere, and they were at least moderately aware of John and his abilities. Furthermore, people like Himiko Nakamura existed, so powerful they casually utilized artifacts the Order couldn’t even fully understand. Aside from sequestering himself away in this pocket world and hoping that nobody ever figured out how to invade it, John didn't have a lot of options for dealing with those kind of enemies.

"This isn't something I can solve with a quick stat boost, or really any single effort," John admitted, shrugging. "It's kind of a 'damned-if-you-do' situation here. As far as I can tell, our best shot is to approach it from a bunch of angles. Try to keep in the good graces of the Order while making sure that we aren't so reliant on them in the future."

"You would bend the knee for the ease of never having to raise your own head?"

Sophia's words were cutting, and frankly they were the first time John had heard a true note of doubt in her voice since her hatching. As he met her eyes - now their familiar tones of yellow and brown mixed in a most beautiful manner - he saw disappointment mixed with the undying loyalty that he'd formerly noted.

"There are certain concessions I would be willing to make in order to ensure the safety and sanctity of my friends and creations," John admitted, fighting the urge to tear his eyes away from Sophia's as she continued to gaze directly into his soul, "but I would never bend a knee. I have lines I will not cross, things that are too important to lose. I will never turn you or anyone else here over to the Order, nor will I ever stop protecting you all with the full extent of my power and life. If I ever lost any of you, if one of you were ever taken… I would gladly sacrifice everything if it meant protecting any of you."

Sohpia's eyes softened… at least, as much as they could. More than any other member of John's ragtag group, Sophia certainly didn't lack in intensity.

"As any true leader of a flock would; I do not trust this Order, Father, but I will obey you so long as you hold our interests first. Through what I have learned since hatching, it seems my flock contains many who are not truly of my kind. I can accept this - but I ask that you swear protection to those who call you their leader, wrath to those who threaten your kin, and vengeance upon any who succeed."

John was already prepared to agree, having few objections to what Sophia was voicing, but when he met her eyes a moment of understanding passed between them. What Sophia was asking wasn't quite a request, and neither was it a demand. It was an oath, one that if deviated from could never be repaired. She might well attempt to kill him, or at a minimum banish him from her very life. Something so serious could never be taken in an instant, and John stopped himself in mid-acquiescence.

The Order were his protectors, keeping the Cabal and the Albidian Society and supposedly a hundred other factions from descending upon him. Could he so easily abandon them, no matter what they did?

Yes. Yes, he could. He had been ready to strike Moira a few moments ago, and though the buff and anger had faded somewhat, the wound inflicted by her aggressive tone and lack of trust had not.

"I will protect you and the rest of my 'flock'," John agreed, nodding solemnly as he reached up to place a palm on Sohpia's shoulder, "and I will defend - or avenge - any of you who are threatened by another."

"Then you are worthy of your title, Father. May the Patriarch stand strong amid the whirlwind of this new and strange world." Sophia bowed again, clutching a hand across her heart. She had done the same pose now quite frequently despite her relatively short lifespan, giving John an inkling of how formal it might actually be.

"So, now that tha’s out of the way… wanna see the 'ouse?"

John glanced up, turning his eyes onto the scene around him. While Sophia and the Nekos had demanded much of his attention, there was one other thing that was seeking to steal his focus away - the very thing that had earned so much of John's annoyance and exasperation only a few days ago. For at long last, the house John had been trying to construct was finally finished.

"…Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

Maera, Sophia, and Seras all fell silent in unison as John turned toward the large wooden structure that abruptly had his full attention. Gone were the translucent blue walls, gone were the sounds of hammers and nails as the house slowly assembled itself. All John saw now was an almost perfect replica of his very own home - minus the paint, trim, and other various architectural design choices that made it unique. Still, with no door on the entryway, all John had to do was glance inside to feel right at home.

His feet were carrying him forward before he even consciously realized that he was walking. John strode through the building with the practiced ease of someone who had been there countless times, slowly easing himself past the living room, the dining room, and his mother's bedroom as he walked his way toward his own room. Truthfully, the ownership and designation of those rooms felt odd to him - without the aged furniture and specific decorations of each individual room, they had lost their purpose and familiar markings. The walls were the only thing that still stood of what he once knew, but all the same they resonated with his memories.

"It really did make it the same," Seras noted from behind him, poking her head through the open doorway into what would have been John's bedroom. "Jus' need a bed in tha' corner and it'd be just about the same!"

John ignored his burning desire to install his PC and desk in the corner Seras was ignorantly overlooking and simply nodded, glancing around. There was no paint, no trim, no sign of anyone having lived there - ever - but John felt at home in that strange, brown dwelling. Even without drywall, insulation, or any of the other comforts of modern living.

"Yeah, I guess so," John admitted, turning around to face those that had followed. He saw that most everyone had come with him - even Mithra had lazily caught up with them, tail waving slowly back and forth as she rubbed at her eyes and inspected the room.. "Find a room and claim it, all of you. This is going to be your new home for the foreseeable future. No more sleeping outside, unless you really want to."

Maera, Mithra, and Sophia all scattered shortly after John made his announcement. Only Seras - still gazing around the details of the only room she truly knew from John's home - and Lunaya remained. Lunaya was the real mystery; she hadn't even interjected herself in the initial conversation when all of them first arrived, but now she was tugging persistently at John's sleeve while he inspected the actions of the rest. Looking over to her, John saw her with a look she had not borne in quite some time - a worried frown, mixed with just a hint of anger and disappointment.

"What's wrong? Do you not like the house?"

Lunaya shook her head in frustration, then raised a hand to point directly at Seras. A moment later it turned to face the stairway, while the pursed lips and furrowed brow of Lunaya never faded.

"Seras? You have a problem with her?"

Seras turned in confusion, easily hearing the sound of her own name, but Lunaya only shook her head. Turning, the lupine woman strode over to the blonde vampiress and firmly grasped one of her arms while extending it. Lunaya took Seras' arm into her powerful hands, pointing firmly at the vampiress' unyielding biceps and giving a loud, unsatisfied sigh.

"Strength? Power? Oh - you… you're mad she's stronger?" Lunaya nodded firmly, jabbing one lengthy finger into Seras' skin until the blonde woman started wincing with each pointed strike.

"Okay, that's enough then. Why are you so upset? You said you didn't like fighting."

Lunaya stopped all movement, glancing at John. Only her long, pale tail showed any sign of life at all, swishing back and forth uncertainly as she glanced into John's eyes with an emotion he couldn't read. After a few moments, she held up one hand and made a motion John was only moderately familiar with - the clumsy scrawl of a woman who had only recently learned to write.

"Oh, you want… okay," John mumbled, checking his inventory. He still had some paper and a pen from the last lesson he'd given Lunaya, long ago as that felt now, and the moment that he produced them, Lunaya went to work. John glanced over her shoulder as she frantically worked, her frustration with the written word becoming more and more evident as the pen travelled, but eventually she managed to pass John a sheet of paper with a semblance of a sentence on it.

She good. Want be good. Good for bad. No like bad.

"I, uh…" John grimaced at the rough wording, trying to find a way to explain to Lunaya that he was sincerely not sure what she meant. Glancing over his light knowledge of her personality, John was able to piece together something vaguely like what she had written, but he had no idea how accurate it was.

"You want to be more like Seras? Do you think that I like her more because she's strong?"

Judging by the look of annoyance and frustration on Lunaya's face, he had guessed at least mostly wrong. Again, Lunaya reached out and pointed to Seras' bicep, then flexed one arm while pointing toward it with the other.

"…So it's just strength? You want to be stronger? 'Good for bad'…"

John recalled the first time he'd really confronted Lunaya, when she had tried to **** Maera not to accompany him on a training expedition. Luanya herself had never assisted, yet here she was angry that someone was stronger than her. If she didn't want to train, was it a matter of necessity?

"…are you still trying to protect the Nekos?"

Lunaya glanced down, ears falling for a moment. Her hand raised again, pointing to Seras' muscles. Then, in turn, she pointed to John, Seras, herself, and the stairs, where the sounds of the Nekos and Sophia stomping around were still quite evident.

"You want to protect everyone. But they're all getting stronger, because you haven't helped fight… You don't want to fight, but if you have to…"

Lunaya nodded, her heterochromatic eyes synchronizing in their sadness while her gaze fell to the ground. She clutched her hands together, having communicated all that she could, or all that she needed to for the moment. John wasn't sure what to do - honestly, without his Gamer abilities, he wasn't even sure of the best way to make himself stronger. How could he tell Lunaya to get more powerful when he had no idea how to do it himself?

"…You need to decide what's most important," John eventually said with a sigh, glad Lunaya understood words better than she wrote and communicated them. "I can try to get you weapons and armor to make you stronger. I can probably make things like weights and treadmills to help you train, but I don't think any of it will be as fast as the rest. I really appreciate you wanting to protect everyone… but if you don't want to fight alongside us, it will be hard for you to even protect yourself."

Lunaya's frown only deepened as John spoke, and she was never able to raise her eyes. When the silence between them grew too deep to stew in any further, John at last let a long breath escape him and turned his eyes to the doorway.

"I said I would try not to make decisions for others anymore. I won't hold you back, but I won't push you forward either. We still have almost four hours before I can return to the Brighton Manor and figure out what I can salvage of my relationship with Moira - more likely than not we're going to talk for a while and then train. If you want to join us, you're more than welcome to. If not, you can make yourself at home and relax. But I don't want to see you annoyed or angry at Seras or Sophia for being stronger than you if you don't put the effort out to be strong enough to protect them, too."

Lunaya closed her eyes and turned her head away from John. She sat there until John gave a simple shrug of his shoulders to Seras and turned toward the doorway. He wanted Lunaya to be happy, but her conflicting urges weren't something he intended to solve by simply ordering her one way or the other. This was something she needed to decide for herself - if she hated fighting, it was inevitable that when the time came to defend others she would have little hope of success.

It was faint, but as John descended the stairs with Seras, he heard something between a frustrated howl and a helpless mewl, along with the stomping and staggered steps of a frustrated canine.