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Jarilo-IV was supposed to be a break, relaxing even. Boothill remembers all the stories Dan Heng had told him about the place, how the express had originally been called to the planet in relation to the Stellaron crisis. Admittedly Boothill was somewhat horrified as he was told all about the divisions of the planet, the oppression and instability that came with the rule of their previous supreme guardian. It was nothing worse than anything else he had heard, hell it was nothing compared to things he had seen, but still every story came as a shock to him.
Perhaps it was just a sensitive subject- painfully familiar to him as his companion shared stories about the eternal freeze that threatened the planet's liveliness.
But anyways he wasn't necessarily interested in visiting the planet from the beginning, especially after Dan Hengs recollections of the brief duration that the place was under IPC control. Even though he was told the conflict was quickly resolved, he still held far too much resentment for the organization as a whole to even accept the idea of stepping onto another planet with any history of IPC influence. There's also the fact he's a wanted man in their eyes- but he didn't pay much mind to that fact.
However, admittedly he didn't know what else to do with himself after his short stay on the express. For despite all his travels he had never once found anywhere that could even be considered home, nothing ever came close to that place. And nowadays Argenti had taken on a more spontaneous approach to his work, Boothill truly believed he just wondered where he wanted to and then decided to play missionary wherever it was he ended up.
So when his beloved knight had asked him where their travels should take them next, the frozen planet was the only response he could think to give.
So that's where he was now. Currently sent out alone to retrieve dinner for him and Argenti.
He doesn't pay much attention to those around him as he scopes out the many stores and small shops Belobog has to offer. All the noise of the general public seems to blend together in a dull buzz. No, not much matters to him other than the shops listed on the map he was currently holding.
"Hook! Give that back!" He vaguely is able to hear a young child exclaim, her voice pushed through her teeth in a harsh and desperate whisper. "We're not supposed to use those!"
Though it seems her companion doesn't share the same concern as she does, in fact all Boothill is able to hear next is a sharp giggle. "No way! I bet that old witch would never bother me again if I had one of these!"
"You told Mr Gepard you'd stop taking other people's things." The soft voice pleaded.
"I only said that to make him happy! Let him worry about Mr blue hair, not me! The Moles listen to nobody!"
It's then Boothill notices the distinct lack of weight on his leg, finally realizing he was the topic of all this snickering. Turning on his heels he's met with two very shocked young children. One was notably taller, older looking, wide eyes framed by pale white hair, a bright red coat serving as the only point of contrast between her soft appearance. While next to her stood the thief, a small girl who looked to be drowning in her huge coat along with a large hat that sat on top of fluffy yellowish hair. Yet her appearance isn't what Boothill cared about, no, all he was concerned with was the gun- his gun- currently held in her hands. "Ya better listen to yer pal and give that back." He says with an outstretched hand.
However the younger child- Hook, he guesses- seems completely unbothered by his request, not even looking up at Boothill as she turns the hunk of metal over in her gloved hands. She looked to be inspecting every detail, though Boothill wasn't sure she really knew what she was looking for, or even what she was looking at for that matter. "This is nothing like the ones those stupid Silvermane guard used to carry around!" She remarks with wide eyes, amazed at the newly introduced variety. Yet her eyes quickly narrow as she looks back to Boothill. "What's the point in carrying around a tiny one? People won't be scared of you that way!"
With that she waves the gun above her head tauntingly like she tried to show how disappointingly un-terrifying it was. Yet she seems almost offended when Boothill makes the move to snatch it from her. "'M just fine with what I got, thank ya kindly."
"Are you not good enough to use a big gun?" Hook's question seems so painfully genuine, her eyes wide like she sympathized with Boothill for apparently not being skilled enough to own anything more than a simple revolver.
"I don't got no need to lug around no big gun." Boothill crossed his arms in a manner that could be considered almost defensive.
"But why not? This silly thing is nothing compared to Diggertron." She remarked proudly.
Boothill only shakes his head dismissively. "Alright, listen, kid. I need that thing back." He says firmly, holding out a hand to Hook, flexing his fingers as he asks for his gun back. Yet the child only shakes her head at him like he had presented her with bad food.
"That's Pitch-Dark Hook the Great to you!" The child snaps, stomping a foot on the pavement like it added weight to her statement. "Fearless leader of The Moles! I demand you show respect to me and my honorary member!"
"I ain't callin ya that!" Boothill scoffs, almost laughing before he catches the eyes of the girl behind Hook. It was almost hilarious, the girl looked a good amount older, much taller too, yet she practically hid behind the small figure of her companion. But her gaze is weighted as she locks eyes with Boothill, pleading almost, as if she was begging him to go along with her friend's little game.
The ranger sighes into his hands, rubbing his forehead before starting back at the pair. His eyes dart between each of them before they finally land on the older girl in the red coat. "Ah, come on young lady, help me out will ya?"
"Her name is Clara!" Hook practically screams at him, horrified as if he had just verbally assaulted her friend. "She deserves respect! You can't bully people just because they're shy!"
"I ain't fudgin bullyin nobody!" Boothill sputters, hands out in surrender.
"He's not bullying me." The girl- Clara, apparently- pleads with her friend, a hand on the child's shoulder as she talks. "He just wants his stuff back." She sighs, attempting to pull the gun from her hands though Hook only pulls her hand in, jumping back a bit with her arms pressed to her chest, cradling the gun that was quickly lost in the excessive fluff of her coat.
"I trusted you!" She shrieks, caught off guard by the gruesome act of betrayal. "This is mine now!"
"No it's not." Clara says desperately, her voice almost exhausted.
Yet Hook doesn't regard her words at all, hell she seems to forget about the entire situation at hand. All she does is pause, grip still firm on the gun as she stares at Boothill with narrow eyes like she was trying to analyze everything about him. "Are you a robot?" She asks. Boothill can hear Clara audibly sigh, but Hook pays her no mind. "Clara's daddy is a robot, but you don't look anything like him. You're a lot meaner too."
"I ain't no darn robot." Boothill counters, stubbornly holding on to his shred of humanity.
Hook narrows her eyes once more, her gaze almost accusing in a way. "Then why do you look like that?" Boothill has to suppress his smile as the girl is immediately chastised by her companion.
"That ain't none of your beeswax." Boothill says, childishly matching Hooks' accusatory stare as he crosses his arms.
"You talk funny. The old witch doesn't like when I talk like you do, she says only stupid people that don't go to school say ain't." Hook grumbles, peering up at Boothill. "Are you stupid?"
"Ya got a problem with the way I talk?" Boothill presses, raising his voice only slightly as he glares at the young girl.
"Yeah, I do!" Hook responds, more than matching his volume as she once more stomps her foot on the pavement.
Boothill opens his mouth to speak yet the words seem to die on his tongue, interrupted by a distant call that makes Hook abruptly snap her head back.
"Daddy Fersman!" Hook suddenly exclaims, looking back at Boothill with almost genuine fear in her eyes. Though he couldn't complain when she all but threw the gun back at him.
And with that she was gone, sprinting off leaving only him and Clara to awkwardly stare at each other. "She'll be back. Mr Fersman will want to talk to you." She says like she'd been in this situation dozens of times before, Boothill honestly wouldn't doubt that she had.
And Clara was right, It's not before an older man makes his way towards the stranded pair with Hook following just behind him.
"I hope this one didn't cause too much trouble for you." Fersman smiles apologetically at him, placing a hand on Hook's head. Though the child in question currently hid behind his legs, avoiding Boothills gaze.
Suddenly Boothill didn't even have the heart to speak about all his grievances. "Nah, it's all good." He says, earning a shocked look from Hook as she peaks out at him.
Fersman almost laughs. "Is that so?" He chuckles, looking at Clara momentarily like she would spill all that Hook has done, but the girl only shrugs at him. "Seems all I've done is damage control since I took her in." Aeons, did that sting.
"Can't say I don't know the feeling." Boothill laughs like his words were forced out of him. A reflex to fight the awkwardness.
Fersman only smiles, and Boothill is so grateful he doesn't press for any more information than he had already foolishly revealed. "You don't look to be from around here." He notes, reminding Boothill just out of place he must seem. "Where are you from?"
Boothill almost chokes, caught off guard though he really should have expected the question. "'M afraid my home’s a whole bunch a nothing now."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Fersman frowns slightly and suddenly Boothill finds his end of their gaze to have much more weight to it. "I'm afraid we have to get going now, I hope you do enjoy your time here." Fersman's gaze flicks down to both Hook and Clara before he raises his hand in a wave which was quickly copied by both of the girls.
Boothill feels like he's not even in control of his own body, mindlessly waving back at the trio as they make their way out of his sight. He feels off, in some weird way. He doesn't know what it was about the conversation that made him feel so strange, unlike himself. But now all he knows for sure is he doesn't want to be here anymore, the Plaza seems to grow in size once he's alone, and the buzz of conversation around him is so, so much louder now, he knows full well he doesn't belong. And so he wastes absolutely no time before making his way back to the Goethe Hotel
"You're back." Is the greeting he gets as he pushes his way through the door to their room. "How was your time?" Argenti smiles, looking up from the book he currently held in favor of watching as Boothill rids himself of all unnecessary items he currently held on him.
Yet Boothill doesn't answer, and Argenti doesn't press. All he does is simply let himself fall down beside the other man, quickly molding into the previously empty space.
"Ya think Cleme woulda turned out such a troublemaker?" He mumbles into Argentis side as he feels a hand rest on top of his head. He knows the knight had only had the pleasure of meeting his family once before the inevitable happened, back when he was too jittery to really connect with anyone the way he had wanted to. But still Boothill can't help but ask.
Argenti hums for a moment like he's thinking over his words, but Boothill knows full well what the answer is. "I'm sure she would have turned out just like her father." He finally says, punctuating his words with a kiss pressed to the top of the rangers head. His words ring familiarly in his mind, that's exactly what his parents had told him the moment they met the fragile child. For Clementine had quickly developed a distinctive personality that he was reminded time and time again perfectly reflected his. Really he can't even find the heart to be annoyed with the whole run in with Hook today, for he knows if she was just given the time his own daughter would have turned out relatively like her.
A thick yet comfortable silence quickly engulfed the pair. As Boothill was content with no further elaboration about his time out, closing his eyes as Argenti runs a hand absentmindedly through his hair. The only noise in the room being occasional page turns as Argenti let his focus fall back into his book.
Yet as quickly as it had developed the silence was broken by a groan from the galaxy ranger.
"I forgot the fudgin food."