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@ill-go-it-alone
Fox McCloud RP blog - Headstrong leader of the space-faring, free-lancing mercenary band Star Fox. Leaning on multiple canon sources while not strictly adhering to established canon, filling in the gaps with headcanon for characterization and verse.
Bio // Rules // Verses
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"Don't ya live with an AI that captures your biodata all day long? Maybe ROB sold ya out."
βUhβ¦ yeah. Yeah, I do. But ROB wouldnβt-β¦β Multiple memories of ROBβs penchant for mischief come bubbling up to the surface, taking Fox out of the moment for a beat.
When he thinks about itβ¦
Could it be ROBβs doing after all?!
This requires further investigation⦠later. One thing about the suggestion has his face scrunching up more in squinting scrutiny.
βHow do you know he records biodata.β Sounds more like an accusation than a questionβ¦
βSince when am I in a movieβ¦? Can they really just do that? Isnβt someone supposed to ask me for approval?? I didnβt agree to this!β
"You look skeptical."
Did he think she couldn't read that face? Zelda was no mind reader, but she was the embodiment of Wisdom. She'd been trained since early childhood to read expressions, body language, emotions, depth of one's eyes. Absolutely everything, that was what a princess was to do for her people. She had to resist soft laughter, his expression was too sweet.
"If that is what will make you most comfortable."
A soft gaze, Zelda resumes what she had been doing in the beginning. Watering, though she knows more than how to avoid getting him wet in any way. There was a certain luxury in having someone else around to do this with. She most likely would have begun humming softly, had it not be for another question for him. It was uncommon, to be asked these sorts of questions.
Most wanted to know about what she did for her kingdom.
"I do enjoy it, yes, though I do believe expert is taking things too far. I must confess, I do receive much more enjoyment in the kitchen. I hope you will not see it as a passion stereotypical to a woman, but I truly love crafting various meals. If I had the opportunity to be an ordinary woman, I would have loved to be a baker. The smile on another's face, when they bite into something you have so lovingly made..."
The smile on her face, one that exuded the beauty of the Goddesses themselves, it only curled slightly wider, as she glanced down at him taking care of weeds.
"Does it not sound lovely?"
Skeptical, huh? Sure, why not. He'd rather be painted as skeptical than exposed as too shy to sing in front of someone else. At the comment, he looks Zelda's way again, and...
...
Was that a repressed grin she just hid away?
Seriously?
So this is the thanks he gets for helping out. Some things never change, do they? Reminds him of a certain prince he'd once had to babysit...
Well, it beats bein' stuck in your own head, right...? Hey, screw thatβyou don't gotta let her walk all over you just 'cause she's friendly enough to chat!!
...But just when he's decided on being a bit of a hard-ass for a little payback, she brings up one of his all-time favourite subjects!
It's not fair!! It's an outrage!!! It'sβ
It'sβ!!!
He heaves a heavy sigh, and...
"I... know what ya mean. Don't really do much bakin' at all, but I like to cook. Someone I used to know once said; Fox, hon, listen up: the best part about a meal is the thought that was put into it, knowin' someone else doesn't want ya to go hungryβso don't worry if it's not just how ya wanted it to taste the first time ya make it!"
It's so over. At this rate, he's never living up to that billing of the fearless-peerless-mercenary-for-the-right-price, around this place...
"That bein' said, she still made sure to get me into the habit of under-seasoning first after that. But, uh..." Look at him, going on like he isn't just ramblingβtime to shift the focus back again.
"Anywaysβwhat sorts of stuff do you like to make? I like the kind of dish that has a bunch of different ingredients you prepare separately and combine at the end. And if you'd want to be a baker in another life, have you ever tried making sourdough? I've heard it's quite the process, but that it's really rewarding..."
So much for not rambling...
Just like that, Zelda got him talking, glancing back and forth between her and the task at hand... but he at least manages to reign his old accent back in! He will take literally any winβwith both handsβthat he can right now.
"It truly depends on what you would like to do. With such an expanse, getting to all the watering certainly can be a chore. As with taking care of any life, it is a labor of love. Just as important, is maintaining the soil's rich qualities. That means carefully keeping things even, so that one area does not have too much, or too little soil compared to those surrounding it. Gloves may be considered appropriate, but I certainly do enjoy the feeling of soil in my hands!"
A proper explanation, but not one without her love for gardening in every word. Even back in Hyrule, the woman maintained a near flawless garden. The courtyard was her only reprieve sometimes. Flowers had become something special to her. She may not have thought a ton of them at a younger age, but since taking over her rightful place on the throne, all the work that came along with it, she'd grown such an extreme fondness.
As always, every last movement, every tone of her voice, exuded an almost otherworldly grace. From the gentility in her eyes, to the way her golden hair gently flowed in the breeze.
"I cannot take full credit. There are occasions I receive help from others. Most of the time, however, it is only me."
Zelda's hands came together, gently holding her watering can, her smile increasing ever so slightly.
"I know exactly what you could do! Did you know flowers love it when you sing to them? If you sing a song truly special to you, they will be receptive to the emotion in your voice. It encourages them to grow. Flowers are alive too, after all. They simply lack the biology to physically speak."
Even just talking about a down-to-earth hobby, Zelda paints gardening in a refined and exacting light--it's some lens she must see the world through, Fox thinks. If pressed, he'd have to agree with her position: there's a simple sort of satisfaction in getting dirt under your claws--or nails!
Nevertheless, it just seems like common sense to him when he next thinks--leave it to a royal to lift a meticulous hand to an unruly task. In his limited experience gardening is a luxury afforded only to the fortunate, to be shared; a collaborative, community-strengthening effort to provide and self-sustain.
And it had never looked like this, all beauty and order and precision!
Although there had been quite a few flowers in that dust-washed greenhouse of his childhood, hadn't there? It had seemed so expansive and impressive back then. It'd certainly look like a miniature dump compared to all this.
Zelda's answer to his question takes him right out of this little reverie, ejects him back into the present. It's good to hear this isn't entirely a solo project of hers--work like this is always better when shared. Nodding, just about to speak, Fox winds up holding his tongue when the Hylian princess seems to brighten before suggesting a task the vulpine is... wary of.
She wants him... to sing to the plants?
Seriously?
Is that a joke? Does she even joke? No, it's gotta be a joke; she just comes across so earnest-yet-stoic to his eye, it's tough to discern...
"Ah, you might be on to something there..."
"But I think I'll stick to working with my hands, if you don't mind." Spoken light as a leaf in free-fall, if only ever-so-slightly vexed. Singing to plants? In front of someone else? As if!
Leaving no room for rebuttal, the mercenary crouches down to make good on his word!
Considering that watering is a task still on the table, pulling weeds and re-distributing the elements-disturbed earth between plants should be a good place to start--so he gets right to it!
"Is this something you do back at your home? It sounds like you're an expert."
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"Tha's not exactly the healthiest food fo' a pilot, is it? But.....I ain' sayin' no. Feedin' m' bosses is one surefire way I stay employed, and I may not have been witchu' fo' long, but I liked that job we went on....So if my food keeps me here, I ain' gon' complain." Nico gave a wink, and quickly made a plate for Fox.
"I always make extra~."
"Y'say that like there's a line 'a work it's ever healthy in...? Besides, it's good for the soul so who cares!"
That's an intriguing idea, right thereβeven if it turns out as only a joke: the Great Fox has never had a full crew. It's easy to get by without when you haven't had in the first place, but... Nico's making the chef-shaped hole on his ship apparent!
In that line of thinking, a role like a proper doctor wouldn't hurt either... Much to consider for the future! Something to circle back to later. But for the present?
"Thanks for the food!" Fox cheers in his low-volume way, his enthusiasm showing more in the way he sits up, the way his eyes light up with anticipation as he accepts the plate. He takes a moment to drink in the quality, presentation, and smells... and right before he takes a bite, he takes another moment to glance up and ask:
"Are ya self taught?" Then he digs in!
Ahh... perfectly golden, home-cooked, delicious, delicious fried foods...
"...Need a taste-tester?"
"Someone just accused me of wearin' a toupΓ©e... Says I'm old, says I probably need it..."
Oh no, he's taking his clothes off. Why is he stripping, why is Wolf getting nakedβ
"Anyone care to point out where I've got this toupΓ©e? Maybe show me where on my body that I desperately need that kind of help?"
"Anyone? Anybody at all?"
Man, it's been a minute since he's meddled in Sargasso-type affairs! What sorts of incidents has he missed out on? Who's gonna be in rotation at the lounge this space-night? Is he finally gonna have a real sit-down drink and not have a sudden call draw him away in a hurry?
He can already hear some sort of commotion going on, and as he turns the entrance corner with anticipation, ready to announce himself, he finds thatβ
...
...
...
Welp. It's 'bout time to hit the ol' dusty trail again.
πΊ send this to ten muns you think are wonderful πΊ
//i drown in this inch of unprompted praise
Target sighted, @greedypigman
The reason he'd bothered coming back to Sargasso in the first place--
It's right here in this room, in this lounge he's been staking out on the off chance of picking up a trail... right here, after so long he'd almost forgotten-- Vengeance, ripe for the picking.
But what had been the plan for running into him here? Put a new hole in the pig's head and leave? Sounds good to Fox, until he considers the fact that old Pigma's just one counted among many outlaws here--there's still honour among crooks, after all. What's he supposed to do about all of O'Donnell's little friends once he's killed on their turf? Decimate them and manhandle their leader when it gets out of hand again? When he's here under Sargasso's hospitality?
As if; a morally-bankrupt repeat of that incident would just be embarrassing. Not to mention, murder on his conscience.
No, there was never any plan to confront Pigma here.
So Fox resigns himself to sneaking glares from afar, growling a colourful expletive to himself under his breath. It's not the same as blaster-fire or a bullet, but burning a hole in the back of the traitor's head with his eyes is still somewhat satisfying.
...The less logical side of him still quietly praying all the while that this old family friend will notice him and make the choice that's bad for his health.
He was always good for that much, at least.
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Starter for @thebastardmeteocrusherpilot !
Normally Fox isn't a fan of crowds--with ears like his, the kaleidoscopic noise of a boisterous crowd is almost always a one way road to Migraine City, in the municipality of Joy-Killing.
Now following an ex-Androssian commander (one he's met in battle, no less) into maintenance halls lacquered in disrepair for reasons yet-to-be-revealed, however, the leader of Star Fox is naturally on high alert; the nagging thought that he should have stayed put in the lounge gnaws at him.
Although... if Galaxicos is looking for trouble, what are the chances the crowd back in the lounge wouldn't have just joined in? Maybe it's for the best that he's not finding out about that after all...
He halts abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest and calling forward--
"--Don't you think this is far enough?"
Starter for @zpdchief !
Minding his own business, taking in the sights of an alien city and making notes--it's for bonus pay, not for fun--Fox catches a flicker of movement in his peripheral view milliseconds too late to step back in time.
"Agh--!" For his diligence he's rewarded with a door forcefully swung open in his face, stopping him in his tracks. Maybe he'd been minding his own business a bit too much...
It stings, but stings a little less when he rubs at the impact point with the heel of his palm. Really, he's just lucky he was busy with his wrist-mounted communicator; that would've been a bloody nose if he hadn't been looking down, no doubt!
Fox lifts his hand from his freshly-dinged forehead to snarl at the offending tall, horned figure.
In an up-tight uniform. With a badge.
A police badge. It's a cop he was just about to tell off!
At best, getting on a cop's bad side could be really inconvenient--at worst... well, the important thing here is: Fox has no intentions of getting mixed up in legal systems period, never mind one in a different solar system.
So his reproach is delivered as chiding instead of berating.
"Jeez...! Where's the fire?"
Hey @ill-go-it-alone Dance with me? I bet you're a natural!
He had something special planned for today. He really cared about this guy, he was a good friend, through and through. Didn't care about his fame, treated him like a person. Which was why he'd asked Fox to close his eyes as he lead him by hand. The pilot was going to see where he lived, and more importantly, the stunning beauty surrounding it.
"Okay, open your eyes."
He released his hand. One would hardly believe this was only thirty minutes away from the bus stop by foot. Nothing but soft, green grass as far as the eye could see. Spring blooms, leisurely swinging in the wind. There were trees here and there, along with a lake that sparkled in the sunlight.
"You mentioned liking nature, so I thoughtcha'd like this spot! D'ya remember when ya said you like swimming?"
A chuckle.
"Real long time ago, I know. But I didn't forget! so I thought you'd get a real kick out of the lake I live by. I can sit and watch you, too!"
And when he's asked, Fox agrees happily!
But does he actually oblige?
Hell no!
Not only is he not one to simply do as he's told, he's also the type that likes to know their surroundings--so is he peeking when Danny isn't looking?
Absolutely. Without hesitation or remorse. It's a fine (if almost comically long, for a surprise) walk, all things considered! And since Fox is such a considerate friend and comrade, he at least puts himself back in suspense, closing his eyes firmly for his feline friend's sake when he comments that they're almost arrived.
And not long after, once he's asked to open his eyes again and sees...
He whistles, impressed, thinking This is the kind of scenery people hang paintings of. When was the last time he got to see sights like this, in person? Ah, he's starting to get sick of asking himself that...
'But... why'd you make me close my eyes so long before we got here...??' Is the question he wants to ask so badly, but before he can Danny continues on to explain himself. He's nodding at first, when Danny's making sense to him; he likes nature, he likes swimming, and he remembers sharing those facts! What a thoughtful surprise!
But, those last seven words...
It's those last seven words where Danny loses him.
"...You're telling me." Fox is turning around.
"After you dragged me out here with my eyes closed, no hint of what's goin' on." Fox is threatening Danny's space.
"That the big surprise is I get to go swimming while you watch...?" Fox is glaring Danny down with cool severity. Waiting for a worthy answer.
,
Huh? Get any? Is that a joke...?
"How're you supposed to Get any of a--?"
...
Oh!
He's pulling a brief double-take, a card slips out of his hand and falls away unnoticed, his free hand drifts up under his chin, he's nodding.
And all he's thinking is: That's not what someone says when you tell them you've got a gun.
Naturally he sets the deck down again, his demeanour shifting back down into neutral in tandem with the movement.
"...I mean, uh, sure--" And he starts rifling through his jacket pockets--not this, not that, do i even have it on me, what did it look like again, it's not gonna be in the gun pocket, how long has that rock been in this other pocket... finally, his hand closes around a familar rectangular box.
"--Got it!" Success! He fishes out a small, black, non-descript childproof container at last... and offers it up, half-smirking. "Here: knock yourself out."
Deep lines define the humored smile that creeps along his face as his tail lazily sways happily back and forth behind him. A low chuckle leaves Wolf with Fox's answer; the vulpine's remark challenging Wolf's bad habit of being easily entertained and Fox's little victory is secured without any struggle.
"I guess that depends," Wolf starts again, interrupting himself with another chuckle. "Do I get any?"
.
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"Hey. You carryin'?"
"Yup. Never leave home without somethin'." He answers without a fuss while gathering up a deck of cards from the bar, turns to catch the other pilot's eye only after speaking.
"...That alright by ya, mister Lord?" Ah, there's the fuss.
//mutuals: like this post for a starter!
//or check out the ooc; ask memes tag on my blog to see if it can get something started! (it's slim pickins in there, but there might be somethin!)
//or or, if you're a bit shy but still wanna say hi or chat or do some plotting, please reply to this post with your social security number favourite food or drink and i'll reach out to you!
