Marauders

The Dick Night Rises

A bone crackling, earth shaking, soul ripping fart was what broke Jones from his well earned slumber. Wearily, he opened his eyes to see Reigen, staring at the ceiling with terror,

"Too much cabbage," he muttered, before passing out on the floor again,

Jones stared out at the darkened London sky, and automatically gazed down at his watch. It was completely off, he realised, but as he heard the ticking of a grandfather clock down the hall, he realised that the ticking of his second hand was a different rhythm to the clock. Time probably moved differently in different dimensions, he would have to remember that. Sighing deeply, Jones pulled himself off the couch, leaving behind the suit-jacket that he had stolen as he wandered through the house, looking for something to eat,

"Want some?" Nash asked as Jones entered the kitchen, brandishing a piping hot pan of Kraft Mac n Cheese at the man, "Its got some paprika and bacon in it if you want any,"

Jones took a seat at the table, nodding as Nash poured out the thick, golden food into two modern bowls,

"You ever tried Quars?" he asked, "hell, do you even have them in your world?"

"Never heard of it," Jones answered, digging his fork into the steaming macaroni, "I don't plan on trying it,"

Nash made to sit down, but tripped, falling right through the floor. Jones had just finished his breakfast when Nash popped out of a wall, carrying a large baguette in one hand,

"Fresh from a Finnish bakery," He smirked, "so of course it was created in America,"

He cut into the thing with a bread-knife, revealing that it was not a crispy pastry, but thick and doughy, with strawberries infused into the pastry and a dark chocolate filling that was just as thick as the dough. Jones sighed again, taking the thing that Nash passed to him and biting into it, surprised by the balanced flavours of savoury and sweet. It tasted absolutely amazing, and although he did not want to admit it, he could have gone for a second piece,

"What's the plan for today?" he asked Nash, finishing his pastry and looking up at the Paladin, who had only taken a single bite of his Quars,

"We're going to grab that device in another dimension," Nash explained, "but we've got to get some working out in while Reigen sleeps, just in case,"

He gestured to the backyard that they had crawled through the previous day, and Jones finally grasped the scope of the English manor's size. There was a long winding path, perfect for running, with dumbbells and barbells displayed on either side of the concrete. Without uttering a word, Jones broke into a nice run, reaching the end of the path in seconds, before he turned, maintaining his pace as he ran laps of the garden easily. He felt a slight burn in his legs from going days without running, but he ignored it, feeling the cold air blow through his hair.

Nash had gone straight to the dumbbells, grabbing two twenty five pound weights, began to practice his fist fighting, maintaining a high speed as his entire body was trained by the weight of his blows. The two continued to work different muscles for the next two hours, until Nash decided to hit Jones with a challenge,

"How about an arm-wrestle?" He asked, pointing to a professional board that hadn't been there moments before, "I want to get you back for that Tim Tam fiasco,"

"I'm down," Jones laughed lightly, racking the barbell he was rowing and beginning to take off the mass of weights that were attached, "I won't even set Chimera on you,"

Jones wondered what the fuck had happened to him. He had gone from uncaring and cold towards Nash and Reigen and now he was having an arm wrestle. Jones locked into position, his calloused hand gripping Nash's as they stared each other down,