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Oh Ender above, how is he going to do this?
If you had told Ran a few hours ago that he'd have his ass casually handed to him by his own assassination target– in front of an army of soldiers no less– he would have said that you have as much insight as Subbin has rain.
Now, as he hides in the shade of large, strangely shaped leaves, the enderman almost wishes that a storm would roll in.
Ran had left the colosseum before the soldiers had even had the chance to dispatch. To put it all bluntly, he had zero interest in sticking around to play babysitter for a group of inexperienced layabouts. As soon as Jackie turned his back, Ran had slipped away to start his return to the castle. Screw diplomacy and gathering intel, he is done for today.
Finally a good distance from the colosseum, Ran's decided to take a much needed rest under a canopy of alien trees. Fishing a snack and a bottle of pulmersia out from his bag, he basks in the faint breeze blowing through the area. It's starting to cool off finally, and with the sun only beginning to dip towards the horizon, Ran figures he has time for a break.
With nothing significant to think about though, his mind drifts back to the task at hand. What hasn't he tried yet? Poison is useless it seems, and catching Jackie unprepared in a dangerous situation looks pretty unlikely. He now also knows, thanks to their little demo run, that trying to overpower the smaller boy is not as reliable as he first hoped. Jackie's too quick, too focused, too slippery and clever. Too cool and calculated… Surprisingly strong… Kinda– Ran shakes his head vigorously. No.
Downright terrifying.
"Hey there, handsome!" Ran startles from his thoughts, looking towards the voice while trying to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest.
And well, would you look at that. It's none other than Jackie Brackett himself. The Goddess of Fate has a real sense of humour.
Jackie looks tired and a bit out-of-sorts as he approaches, but otherwise seems quite content. Settling on the ground next to him— totally uninvited, may Ran add— Jackie sizes Ran up. "You looked pretty green back there," he points out unhelpfully. "Did you get sick or something?"
There's a playful lilt to his voice that Ran doesn't really understand. So he ignores it.
"I'm okay," he dismisses quickly, looking at Jackie's hand, which he's now leaning on the dirt between the two of them. "I believe I was overheating earlier from the exertion. I'm used to the climate being much more temperate."
Jackie nods, humming thoughtfully. His fingers are drumming on the ground, rolling a steady beat as he side-eyes Ran.
"Right. I'm sure it's like, super hot here compared to… wherever you snuck out from." Jackie's gaze lingers on him for a second– Ran can feel it– before he grins.
"I don't see how that makes a difference though," Jackie cracks, the smile apparent in his voice. "You must be used to being hot, waking up and looking like that every day."
Now, if Ran was less familiar with Overworld slang, he would be very confused by that one. Unfortunately, Jackie hasn't shied away from flattery since the moment they met, meaning his usual expressions have become something that Ran is nearly fluent in.
As a result, Ran's chest tightens nervously, suddenly becoming even more fixated on the tapping of Jackie's fingers. Ran wonders how he's meant to respond to lines like that. He also wonders, as he feels his stomach flip, if he really has gotten sick.
"My prosthetic isn't good for deflecting heat," is what he eventually settles on, and Jackie gives Ran the most deadpan look he's ever seen.
"The metal is more conductive than it should be," Ran continues, oblivious to his partner's clear exasperation. "I didn't have many options at the time of its creation, but its durability makes up shortcomings like those."
Jackie's annoyance quickly shifts to curiosity, his eyebrows raising with interest. "How long ago did you have it made?"
And alright, this conversation might as well happen.
"I'm not sure," Ran answers truthfully. Maybe he should know, but the passing of time isn't a hugely important concept to Ran. "I suppose it wasn't all that long ago. I needed–" he pauses, mulling over his words. "I was in a... poor situation. It was my own fault. So, I made this," he gestures to his mechanical arm, "to try and remedy my mistake."
"Wait a fucking second," Jackie raises his other hand to stop him, almost infuriated with excitement. "You're telling me you made that thing yourself?! Like from your own materials– from your own mind?!"
Ran shrugs sheepishly, interlacing his right hand's fingers with his bionic ones. "I had some help with sourcing items. It wasn't easy to gather ores and all that; you know, due to the state I was in."
"But still!"
Jackie's eyes are raking over his arm now, and although he's holding back from any physical contact, he may as well be poking and prodding at the mechanisms. As he's distracted, Ran takes the time to steal a glance at his expression.
Jackie looks enamoured. His enthusiastic gesturing gives away how excited he really is, although Ran thinks he's still downplaying his reaction. The general's gone almost twitchy, as if it's taking all his power not to reach out and marvel at Ran like he's some sort of unearthly treasure.
Perhaps he kind of is, though. To some people, at least.
Jackie's eyes search his arm for another moment, darting over the mechanical joints, the golden plating, the large emerald embedded in his shoulder.
"Still," Jackie finally repeats, focus shifting to meet Ran's gaze. "That's like– How are you so casual?! That's fucking incredible, you know that, right?"
"Well– It's not like– I, uh–" Ran is about to give some kind of scattered reply, but Jackie's looking right at him again, and suddenly he can't move. Despite being unable to properly teleport, the intense eye contact causes Ran to freeze up. He should probably feel quite panicked, being locked in place in such a way; but even with his racing pulse and drying throat, Ran thinks there's nowhere else he'd rather be right now.
Jackie's practically glowing in the afternoon sun. The cold, calculated blue of his irises has shifted to something softer, something more youthful and energetic as he studies Ran's features. That same sense of wonder and admiration is still there, Ran notes, and he tenses a bit in confusion. Jackie's not even looking at his invention anymore. He's just staring back at Ran.
Why is he looking at him like that?
Jackie blinks, and the enderman jumps at the opportunity to tear his gaze away. His tail swishes weakly behind him, tossing up a bit of dust in its wake. Jackie's not pressing him for answers, but it feels like he got much closer in the time that he was gushing over Ran's handiwork.
"Hey." Ran hates how concerned the human sounds. "Are you sure you're not sick?"
"I'm sure." He's not, really. Ran's actually fairly certain that everything in his stomach and chest is shifting around at random intervals, and if you could see his internal anatomy, his heart and brain would've probably swapped places. Everything feels backwards. It also feels exactly as it should be.
Maybe Jackie had poisoned him instead. Wouldn't that be a kick in the face?
"Okay. That's good." Jackie pauses. "Because I need a proper sparring partner for my training, not just one of our uncoordinated sandbags!" He gives a cheeky laugh, and Ran implores himself to focus.
"I think your troops are doing fine, all things considered. They may not be up to the king's standard yet, but you still have a good period of time until–"
"Ughhh, I don't wanna talk about work!" Jackie whines, letting himself flop dramatically against Ran's shoulder. The action skews his goggles to the side, allowing hair to fall over Jackie's eyes.
"You were the one that brought the topic up," Ran points out indignantly, scoffing at the general's hypocrisy. It's a very powerful scoff as well; he needs to project all his nervous energy somewhere. Having your target practically sitting in your lap is not good work ethic, Ran reminds himself, before becoming concerned with how quickly his heart is thumping. That's probably not healthy either, he guesses.
"Shut up." Jackie butts his head against the shoulder he's leaning on. "Ow! Fucking hell..."
Ran chuckles quietly despite himself, a deep, rumble of a sound that reverberates through his chest. It reminds Jackie of a motorcycle engine purring to life.
And at that moment, Jackie makes his decision.
"So. When's our rematch set for?"
Ran's ear twitches. "I'm sorry?"
"Oh come on! Sparring with you was the most fun i've had in ages!" Jackie beams up at him, only leaning further into his side when Ran turns away. "It really felt like I was fighting for my life, y'know?" Jackie carries on. "No one else has given it that much oomf before– I was really impressed!"
"Of course," Ran replies evenly, monitoring the venom in his tone. "I felt it was best to give a proper demonstration in that scenario; we are training an army, after all."
"Well, i'm glad you did." Jackie pulls away from him and stands up, dusting off his trousers. "You'll have to show me what you can do next time, pretty-boy. Surely you've got some clever tricks up your sleeve."
Ran hasn't got sleeves, but he doesn't have time to dwell on that because he's pretty sure that Jackie's poison has just kicked in.
"It– I would–" Ran can feel his face burning, trying to brush past the "term of endearment" as Jackie called it. The aforementioned bastard just stands there, an entertained smile spread across his face.
"Yes." Ran finally forces out rather anticlimactically. "Some practice would be good for both of us, I think."
"Okay!" Jackie trills, turning on his heel. "I'll look forward to that then. After all, I refuse to believe that today was anything close to your best effort."
The spines on Ran's back rise in annoyance, immediately stamping out any positive feelings from before. Right, he nearly let himself forget: this guy is a goddamn nightmare. An absolutely sadistic, childish pest. An immature brat who always ends up on top. The main obstacle standing in the way of himself and his home planet!
And Ran still needs to kill him.
Jackie continues on, clearly unaware of the vitriol he's just incited.
"Well I'll tell you what: I'm up to the challenge whenever you are!" he calls, cocking his head to smirk over his shoulder. "Should be an absolute blast! So take me out sometime, won't you?"
And for End sake, Ran wants to growl at him, if that's not the fucking goal here–
Take him out sometime. If only it were that bloody easy.