Angel Island&#x27;s Protector

”there you are! i was looaikng eveyrwhere ofor youi!”

”now givhe your daddy a kiss.”

Mmmmaybe later. Right now, I think you’ve had enough.

but whhyyyy

you’re just liske your mother

And thus we learn the truth of how you were able to survive new years for so long.

Come on dad, go lay down. You are in for a *killer* hangover.

angelislandprotector replied to your post:”i love ntew yrea, ‘its uso great yeahah!”

Okay dad, time to take you back to your room, yes? Atta boy.

”there you are! i was looaikng eveyrwhere ofor youi!”

”now givhe your daddy a kiss.”

Mmmmaybe later. Right now, I think you've had enough.

son. i love yowu so muich

Heh, yeah. I know. Love you too, dad.

Now put the beer glass down and follow me.

She huffed, and then smirked. ”Understood. Though you never said I couldn’t try anything else,” Julie quipped, before she jerked slightly. ”Oh! Oh I forgot to ask, how did your dad get on?” Not that she wanted to know for any ulterior reasons, nope, not at all.

Knuckles blinked at the sudden change in conversation. “It went alright,” he said evenly. “There was no massive disaster or anything like that; heck, dad even managed a bit of chivalry, using chaos to pour hot coffee on the lap of some douche who was giving her grief,” Knuckles said with a smile, and then grinned. “He even got her number.”

She punched her fist in the air. ”SCORE! Ha! Your grandpa Sojo owes me 50 bucks!” And thus, Julie began to dance around the room.

The Guardian just smirked, taking a moment to enjoy the view before speaking up. "Sojo? Is that what he's calling himself nowadays?" Knuckles drawled out, snickering a bit. "I guess it IS a nice little addition to the small king's ransom Sabre paid you, eh?"

Locke nodded. ”I’ll probably have to show, so I might be there, if only to discuss some things with some EST bodies,” he sighed. He was supposed to have a meeting with some of the more senior members, but he had been snowed under with a pile of reports to write, and had subsequently forgotten.

The waitress returned, handing the elder Guardian a receipt as she gave Knuckles a bright smile; taking off as quickly as she came.

Locke sighed, relieved. Well, at least that was over. Inspecting the receipt, he found that everything was as it should have been…except that the back of the note had a number and name scrawled down; as well as a rather flirtatious message.

A sharp intake of breath, and he stuffed the piece of paper in his shirt pocket, glancing around furtively before getting up. ”Let’s go.”

#legionreject #short post

Knuckles nodded in understanding, and returned the waitresses' smile out of politeness. From the corner of his eye he saw what was on the note, and his father's response to it. He suppressed a chuckle and waved him over, heading for the exit. "Sure thing, and once more, thanks for the meal," he said, now a bit more cheerful.

Truly, life was full of surprises.

"Atta girl," Knuckles murred. "Keep calm, soldier on, and screw the jackasses if they try anything," he said with a smirk, and sighed happily at the kiss to his throat, chuckling at her question. "Nice try, Jules; but its formal wear all the way, for the both us," he said, smirking down at her. "Much as I would *prefer* your outfit," he quipped.

Knuckles blinked at the sudden change in conversation. "It went alright," he said evenly. "There was no massive disaster or anything like that; heck, dad even managed a bit of chivalry, using chaos to pour hot coffee on the lap of some douche who was giving her grief," Knuckles said with a smile, and then grinned. "He even got her number."

A grin flashed across her face - oh yes, she had forgotten about his family’s influence for a moment there. ”Yeah that’s true, although I have to admit; imagining the wrath of your father being brought down as a result of his precious future-daughter-in-law being slandered is pretty entertaining,” she snickered, referencing the oddly protective nature his father had over the young soldier.

She leaned up, placing a kiss on his throat. ”Soooo what you’re saying is is that I can wear a fishnet and latex ensemble and the public won’t know the difference?” Julie cooed.

She groaned heavily. Oh this was great, just great. After having surgery, being beaten to near death and having her foster parents die, all within the span of a few months, this was just what she needed.

Julie would complain more, but from Knuckles’ resigned expression, there was little point - she didn’t want to agitate him further, after all. It wouldn’t help matters if they managed to get into an argument.

She removed the baking gloves and wiped her face before shuffling over to her boyfriend, planting her face in his chest and letting out a weary sigh. ”Well. One month. At least I’ll be able baste myself in preparation for this roasting,” she grumbled, her voice muffled as she buried her nose into the thick, warm fur she often took such sanctuary in.

Knuckles sighed heavily, holding her close. He didn't like this situation any more than she did; he literally gave everything in the name of protecting his island and his people. EVERYTHING. Was it really so much to ask that he be allowed to pursue his life in peace with the woman he loved? Evidently, yes, yes that *was* too much.

"If it helps," he began softly. "My family will be monitoring and censoring the event the whole way through, to prevent the media people from getting... creative," he said with a soft smile. "That's one advantage to having a family that controls everything behind the scenes, I suppose."

angelislandprotector replied to your post:Ah, hey there Julie. I’ve got… well, I’ve got a bit of unfortunate news… concerning us… its nothing really *terrible*, but you are not gonna like it either way.

As I’ve got no way to sugarcoat, I’ll just say it outright; in one month there’s going to be a big social event for the EST, the kind with lots of bigwigs and cameras…. and we kinda sorta have to go…

And with that, her expression turned from one of slight concern to a look of utter disgust. ”What?!” She exclaimed, rolling her eyes and groaning theatrically. ”But why me? All they’ll do is ask me horrible questions and look at my metallic bits,” she wailed, flapping her cybernetic arm for emphasis.

Knuckles' expression mirrored her own. "Because evidently, privacy is a luxury that the Guardian *can't* afford, despite having saved this island so many times he could probably make a legal claim of ownership over it," Knuckles drawled out, shaking his head.

"From what my dad told me, this is one of those things that I can't avoid.. and its also one of those things that the Guardian's significant other is expected to partake in as well," Knuckles said with a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his head. "Its... politics basically."

"Even though considering the amount I *do* for this place, I could probably be within my rights to get myself declared God-Emperor of the Island?" Knuckles remarked, equally dry as he finished up his drink, sighing heavily. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know its a part of what we do… cripes though, it makes me kinda miss the days when I was living in the wilderness."

At the sight of his father’s reaction to the cat’s smile, Knuckles had to put a hand over his mouth, snickering slightly at the obvious discomfort of his elder.

”We all miss those days. Really,” Locke muttered behind gloved fingers, trying to hide the light flush that had overtaken him. And he really did miss that time; life was so much simpler.

By the time he had managed to compose himself, he realised his son was amused at his reaction; and opted to gently remind his son of his seniority by kicking his shin. Gently, of course.

Knuckles got the hint, but he still wore a grin afterwards as he pulled away from the booth. "Thanks for the lunch, pops," he said, and then sighed heavily. "I'll tell Julie about this... thing, and try and prep her for it," he said with a nod. "Will any of the other Guardians be attending or is this just me and Julie's show?" he asked curiously.

”You’re a Guardian; no aspect of your life deserves to be private,” Locke quipped dryly, slipping a few crisp notes into the leather booklet the young feline handed him. ”It is the unfortunate nature of our position. However, she’ll have support from Lara-le, and myself, whatever use that may be; it’ll al least take the pressure off you for advice and for verbal abuse, respectively.”

The waitress returned, placing a coffee in front of the elder male and picking up the wallet. ”I’ll bring your change sir”, she chimed, to which he managed to actually look her in the eye.

”No, no. It’s fine.”

She gave him a smile which could melt the coldest of glaciers and soften the hardest of hearts. And that, of course, forced Locke to look away.

"Even though considering the amount I *do* for this place, I could probably be within my rights to get myself declared God-Emperor of the Island?" Knuckles remarked, equally dry as he finished up his drink, sighing heavily. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know its a part of what we do... cripes though, it makes me kinda miss the days when I was living in the wilderness."

At the sight of his father's reaction to the cat's smile, Knuckles had to put a hand over his mouth, snickering slightly at the obvious discomfort of his elder.

”Yes,” Locke sighed, rubbing his temples. Oh, what he would do to put this off; but unfortunately for Knuckles the option to opt out was more or less absent. ”You have a month. If it’s any consolation, we’ll be absolutely censoring the media reports on the event,” Locke added, trying to reassure his son despite knowing how much this particular event would rock the boat between Knuckles and his young lover.

The waitress came over, and he reached for his wallet. ”You should inform her as soon as you can, because with news of the event..she’ll find out somehow or another.”

"One month... okay, that's long enough to tell Julie and try and prepare the both of us for this thing," Knuckles murmured to himself. "Yeah, I'll tell her as soon as we're done here," he said with a nod, taking a sip of his soda. "Just... cripes, what business is that of theirs? I've *saved* this island over a dozen times now; I think I've earned the right to keep my private life private," Knuckles grumbled lightly.

Somehow the steak tasted that much better now that he had taken out some residual frustration from the previous morning; and now that he had finished saying his piece, they had both lapsed into a comfortable silence. Neither of them were particularly talkative, and whatever they had to say was usually said in the most concise - or, rather, blunt - manner possible.

”…Oh, and another thing,” Locke began, straightening his spine slightly and fixing a more serious expression on his face as he prepared to broach a more sensitive subject. Not his forte. ”There’s a social event you have to go to. It’s your usual sort of ball thing that’s on for the EST higher-ups and politicians. But - the invitation is a plus-one.” He raised a brow. ”They’re expecting you to bring Julie.”

He would probably be chastised for being so blunt, but there was really no point in sugarcoating the situation - their society wanted to see Julie-Su, they wanted to scrutinise her; they wanted to test her and more importantly, find fault. Locke dreaded this, and he had reason to - Julie was a soldier. She was everything that an ideal Guardian’s consort wasn’t.

He did not dread the backlash, more so her ability to handle it.

The elder sat back, awaiting his son’s reaction; his expression entirely neutral except for the glimmer of anxiety in his dark eyes.

At those particular words, Knuckles froze in spot, eyes widening as he glanced over to his father. He swallowed his food heavily, looking a bit incredulous. "Oh, seriously?" he asked, and then groaned lightly, rubbing his face. "Cripes..." he muttered to himself. He knew precisely what this was going to entail... and Julie was NOT going to like it.

He let out a heavy sigh. "How long do we have to prepare for this?" he asked somewhat glumly as he looked up to his dad. Translation? How long do we have to prepare Julie for what would likely be the single most uncomfortable event of her entire life?

”Yes yes I’m bad around women. It’s all very funny,” Locke groused, cutting into the steak and bringing it to his mouth. His son did have a point however - he clearly inherited his mother’s charisma and confidence, because it certainly didn’t come from him.

”I don’t think they’re that fussed either, it just occurred to me when - for the love of all things decent Knuckles, chew your damn food —”

He was about to go on when a crash from the nearby table caught his attention, blue eyes darting to see the same waitress who had troubled him so much; standing amidst smashed china and a rather indignant man, who seemed to be more or less his own age, acting in a manner which would seem otherwise.

The curses spewing from his mouth were attracting the attention of other diners, and Locke could almost wince at the poor girl’s embarrassment; momentarily wondering why she wouldn’t say anything for herself before he realised - she couldn’t.

He didn’t want to give the wrong impression by stepping in for her, nor give away his status - that would be mortifying. So he opted to raise his hand a degree, waiting until the time was right - until the unruly customer slammed his hand down on the table, and Locke flicked his wrist, tipping a mug of hot tea that was on the very same table.

A high-pitched yelp and a scalded pair of trousers were the result; causing the stranger to leap up and fan himself in a furious manner, before scuttling out the door, abashed.

The Guardian’s lip twitched in a barely contained smirk, before he returned his attention to his son. ”…As I was saying. I don’t think they’re that bothered, I just want to make sure they won’t start anything they shouldn’t.”

Knuckles was about to shoot back that he *was* chewing his food, thank you very much, and that he was one to talk after only just barely taking a bite out of his steak before speaking, when suddenly he heard the ruckus. Looking over his shoulder, he witnessed the old fart berating the poor girl. Being of a somewhat more direct nature than his father, he'd frowned, and had been just about to give the jerk a piece of his mind when he felt that flash of Chaos Energy.

It was just a minor thing, but he looked over to his father with wide eyes, and then gave a small smirk. Sneaky move there, pops. With loudmouth currently having more important things to focus on then taking his anger out on some poor girl, Knuckles resumed his meal, listening to his father's words patiently. Finishing up his mouthful of burger, he nodded to his dad. "Yeah, I suppose I can understand that," Knuckles said, not bringing up certain information he had concerning that waitress... or bringing up some of Locke's own interferences within his own life, in the past.

”I know that,” Locke grunted, palming his face at his own slip up. That was the hangover talking, of course. Yet, despite his annoyance he recognised a small surge of pride at his son’s knowledge. ”You know what I mean.”

The waitress was heading back over with their meals, and Locke couldn’t help but feel his fur prickle up again. Gods be damned if he was going to make a fool of himself.

He focused on his son, trying to block out the nerves that were beginning to flare up in the pit of his stomach as she leaned over them, fussing. ”Well. You know how they get,” he said, managing to keep his voice neutral until she departed; his shoulders slumping in relief when she did so. ”I don’t want them to rush either of you,” he sighed, picking up the cutlery placed in front of him and inspecting them closely. ”I speak from experience.”

Knuckles just gave a small shrug. "Yeah, I know, but hey, maybe looking outside the species is just what you need?" he quipped lightly, though he sincerely did *not* believe that to be the case. Nothing short of brainwashing was going to make his dad any better around women... not that he'd suggest that around any of the Brotherhood, lest they actually attempt it.

He did give a nod at his words, doing his best to ignore just how desperately horrified by the waitress' presence his father was. "Given all we've been through, and the sheer number of times I've saved the Brotherhood's collective butts, I don't think they're going to be too eager to start making noise," Knuckles said, taking a bit out of his meal, chewing and swallowing quickly. "Particularly since, if what Deo Volente says is true, I'm not NEARLY as bad at this as you were," he remarked dryly, recalling the elder Fire Ant's rather frequent quips regarding his father's social ineptitude.