65 37 Inch Vertical Leap
Nicholas ducked, he weaved, he sidestepped and jumped but still got his ass beat by Mordred, a King Main... in Tekken.
What?
You thought he'd lose to her in an actual fight?
No wait, the very notion that he would somehow end up fighting his daught-... er, Mordred, was annoying.
He would beat the shit out of whoever tried to orchestrate such an event.
Anyway, he digressed.
Nicholas sat on his floor, doing his hardest to button mash while trying to make sure he didn't break the controller by accident, as Mordred, who was on his bed, kicked his ass at a game he was the King at.
"How, man?" Nicholas groaned and threw his controller at the trash can, "How am I losing? I've played this game for more than half mah life."
"Haha! Take that! You were being way too damn cocky earlier! How's defeat feel?" The Knight of Betrayal was much more enthusiastic than him, and maybe that made HER cocky enough to think that throwing his pillow at him, while sitting on HIS bed, was something he would abide by.
"Know humility, my child."
Grabbing the projectile midway, Nicholas, like any self respecting adult would do, smashed it back into the Saber's face.
"Ah! You fu-..." Mordred forcefully cut herself off by covering her own mouth with both hands. She cast a horrified glance at the unassuming Saint sitting on a wooden chair in the corner of the room, humming to herself as she went about knitting only her God knew what before slowly removing her hands, "S-She didn't catch that, right?"
"Dunno but..." Nicholas glanced at the purple haired woman, narrowing his eyes, "Nah, don't think so, she too invested in her new side hustle."
The Saber let out a relieved sigh, "Thank fuck... wait a sec, what side hustle?"
"Yeah, having God and anime on your side don't really pay the bills." Nicholas shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, "So she's taking up knitting, at least I think that's what's going on."
"What about her 'donations'?" Mordred referred to the 'rumours' floating around Chaldea.
"Shush, onlyfans don't work when humanity's de-"
"There are no goddamn donations! Nicholas! You need to do something about these allegations!"
Mordred ducked just in time to avoid an armrest, which made the piece of wood crash into the metal wall and explode into a million bits and splinters which in turn, ruined Nicholas' bed.
Yes, Martha ripped the armrest off her chair and threw it at them.
Nicholas flatly stared at the fuming Saint before slowly raising his hands to either side.
"Don't you dare."
He dared.
He shrugged.
"Grrr..."
"Ain't my fault most of y'all dress like you walked out of some 'spicy' parody."
Martha grumbled and stomped over to his wardrobe, throwing it open and pointing at the clothes inside, "I don't want to hear that from someone who's whole attire consists of a dozen copies of the same outfit! And I thought we were past this!"
Well, she was right.
All he had were some black t-shirts, a grey tracksuit and a few trousers.
But his fits were drip as fuck! Hers were like a high end pros-
"And I don't even wear my combat dress outside of... well, combat!" The Saint shouted with tinted cheeks, furiously pointing again and again at her blue sundress.
Wait, she was right.
He was just being an asshole.
Nicholas inhaled deeply before sighing, "Yeah wait, sorry, I got carried away."
"Hm!" Martha crossed her arms and huffed, "Are you saying that to escape or genuinely sorry?"
...
...
... Nicholas looked to the side but that made the older woman smile for some reason.
He definitely didn't feel bad. Not at all.
He totally didn't argue with her cause a flustered Martha was really cute.
"Hey hey! What's wrong with my clothes?!" Mordred asked loudly, visibly displeased about how she'd been dragged into the conversation for no reason.
Both 'adults' forgot their own 'fight' and mechanically turned her way.
"Everything." Nicholas deadpanned, "And there's nothing there to see anyway... but still, Mordred, there's some sick fucks out there... I'm down for bashing their heads in if they say sum though."
"W-What's that supposed to mean?"
Martha looked actually offended by the question, "You can't actually be asking that question. It's not even a matter of freedom in choice. No self-respecting young woman would dress so... so... I can't say it..."
"R...Really?"
It was at that point that both Martha and Nicholas realised that they were dealing with a kid whose parents were too busy fighting or using her to bother teaching her about anything.
"Haah..." Martha sighed, massaging her forehead with the other hand at her hips, "Just look at how your mother dres-"
She was interrupted by a sudden clank from the ceiling.
Followed by another.
Then another.
And then another.
And then a series of them.
"...What is that?" Martha stared up confusedly before turning to Nicholas for answers.
The teenager in question shushed her and held out a hand, "Staff, now. I've been hearing that shit ever since we came back."
"...And you didn't think to do somethin' bout it?" Mordred forgot the earlier conversation, displaying the attention span that toppled Camelot and attentively staring at the ceiling.
Martha materialised her cross-staff and threw it over to Nicholas who gave her a silent nod before flipping the weapon over and sticking the blunt end into the ceiling, prompting a sudden yelp from whatever the hell was up there.
Except, before he could do anything more, they were distracted again.
This time by a series of knocks on the bathroom door.
"...Same person?" Martha asked cautiously.
"Ye-...no wait, no that's BB." Nicholas gave her a faint but reassuring smile and a thumbs up.
It was almost like he hadn't just told her he had a teenage girl locked in his bathroom.
"...Yes, because that's normal."
"Bitc-..." Mordred stopped herself from swearing again, and explained just how BB ended up in there, "She was glued to Master earlier, bothering him and stuff so he locked her in there."
"I'm surprised she ain't kicked down the door yet... Anyway." Nicholas shook his head and did his 37 inch vertical leap, shoving his hand through the metal ceiling and latching onto soft flesh.
"Ahn~"
-
"...What happened here?"
Olga Marie Animusphere was the Director of Chaldea, as such, she had the final say in any and all matters concerning the organisation whether they be big or small.
Consequently, she had to preside over matters she would much rather ignore and forget about.
Like right now.
She watched in silent awe as Nicholas pried a dragon (Kiyohime) off himself and dragged her, yes 'her', by the tail over to gates in the, frankly, a little too expansive, vehicle bay.
"D-Don't be so rough~... But i-if that's what you like."
"See, this is what's wrong with the world." The pale haired teenager deadpanned, "People like you should just stop wasting air."
"A-Ah! Such brutal honesty!"
"Grrr... this hoe..." Nicholas groaned, visibly frustrated for the first time in well... wait a second, she'd never seen him frustrated, "She reminds of those damn sorority cheerleaders... How many anchinchins you had in your life?!"
"N-None... You rejected me before..."
"Bitch you don't get to pull the puppy eyes after-... ugh."
Olga pressed her hands together and inhaled, deeply concerned, "What happened?"
"This chick... this chick has been staring at me from my ceiling for days... I-I like freaky but that's..." The pale haired teenager looked at Olga with hollow eyes, "Olga, do something."
"I was just worried about you!" The serpentine dragon flushed as she spoke.
"No!" Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, that shout came from Olga, "That's just not right..."
No wonder most of Chaldea's new 'staff' were terrified of her... Well, except Elisabeth who just plain hated her.
"Give her to me then, I will drown her in her blood and then relish it..." Carmilla popped in out of nowhere, wiping her lips with a claw, "It is the least I could do for you."
Nicholas looked at the Blood Countess... and then at Kiyohime... rather, Kiyohime's tail in his hand before slowly moving it closer to the vampire.
"N-No! Nicholas, no! You can't seriously be considering this!" Olga grabbed Nicholas' hand with both of hers, desperately trying to stop her subordinate from committing a mistake he would most definitely regret.
"Go screw yourself, you thieving whore." Kiyohime hissed at Carmilla from the cold, metal floor, "How dare you try to use me to get closer to my dear?!"
-
Hope you enjoyed the chapter.
Sorry for late, had a shit headache.
