Part 19 - Someone to Watch Over Me
"I don't know the first thing about chaperoning anyone," Joxer sighed, fussing with the long robes he'd been given.
"There's nothin' to it," Strife straightened a few of the garment's lines, though not in any way that Joxer might want. "Ya just follow Mom an' Herm', make sure ya stay in plain sight so's everyone can see ya� an' don't sweat it. This is one-a those things that's virtually screw-proof."
Well, that made him feel a little better. After all, this was his first official god-job and the thought of turning it into a full-scale Olympic War made his head go a little woozy. "I'll try."
"Yer gonna be fine." Strife took a deep breath and sounded very uncomfortable when he let it out. "Thanks fer this, by the by."
"Hey, I'm in your service, aren't I?" Joxer managed a small chuckle and tried to find his hand in the voluminous sleeve fold that currently enveloped it. He wasn't sure about that look on Strife's face, but soon, that confused puss faded into a big, not-at-all-creepy grin.
"Aw, c'mon!" Strife jostled him all over, grabbing two fistfuls of cloth and giving him a jiggle. "You're not still on that, are ya?" He kept it up until a smile broke out on Joxer as well. "Yer doin' this 'cuz Mom picked ya. Cuz yer the most neutral dude we know we can trust with this kinda thing." Cool, thin fingers grasped Joxer's chin and directed his gaze to meet Strife's. " Cuz yer the best man fer the gig. Cuz we trust you. Cuz we like you. 'K?"
"OK."
"Good." Strife let go of Joxer's chin, going back to arranging the long raiment. "Now, any last questions?"
"Um� yeah. Is everyone going to know who I am?"
"Kinda. Sorta. In a way. I mean, those that know ya will know ya. The rest� they�ll know what yer up to, since yer gonna be the officiatin� god there, but since you don�t got a house yet or a godhood, they�ll just hafta mumble inta their sleeves about it." A broad smirk painted the Mischief God�s face. "I should be gettin� a nice, steady buzz from the confusion, so thanks ahead-a time, Bud!"
"Glad I could help," Joxer resumed hunting for his hand inside that sleeve, not gaining too much headway on that front when Strife set something slightly heavy atop his head, adjusting it a few times until he was satisfied.
"There. Pitcher-a godly supervision." Strife nodded to himself, pleased with the new god in front of him. "Now, hustle! They're waitin' on ya." And with a slight shove, more of an encouraging push, Joxer was out the door to the War Temple, Strife trailing a few steps behind him.
A long whistle greeted him, Hermes grin widening as he stopped mid-pace on the well-kept walkway that led up to Ares� domain. Still in his official frockery, all shined and glittered to the nines, he was wearing a groove in Ares� front path as he waited, though now his nerves had a little distraction. "Hey, Jox! Nice! The whole �god-look� thing works for ya!"
"Like a charm, though I�m sure we�ll be gettin� a vote for the other gear, too, dontchathink?" Strife chuckled as he sidled up next to Joxer.
With the conspiratorial laugh that came out of Hermes, Joxer wondered how he ever got the job of God of Gamblers. Not much of a poker-face there. "Yeah, ya may have a point. But I like it. It all but hollers �chaperone�, which I gotta thank the Tartarus outta ya fer doin� fer us, Jox. You�re a real stand-up kinda guy."
"Thanks. I�m glad to do it, even if I don�t get why two grown gods, one with a grown son, need anyone to escort them anywhere." Joxer managed to finally detangle his hand so he could accept the arm-clasp the God of Messengers was offering.
