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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
Completed:
2005-07-08
Words:
4,147
Chapters:
2/2
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1
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23
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Fashion Disaster

Summary:

The God of Mischief stops by to chat with the God of Redemption. Then Joxer has a thought.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: 1/2

Chapter Text

Fashion Disaster
by Scorpio

 

With a sigh, Joxer stumbled over his shadow, prompting a painful and elaborate bellyflop onto the dry dusty dirt-packed road. A cloud of shimmering dust rose up around him, obscuring his vision even as his breath whooshed out of his lungs. He felt a sharp rock under his knee and he was almost positive that his ribs had groaned in protest.

"Ow."

It was worth the momentary pain, however. The fall had done its job. Gabrielle was no longer whining at the top of her voice about the appalling lack of bards and storytellers in the surrounding local villages to teach the children, not to mention the fact that the local women were treated pretty harshly by their fathers and husbands. Not that Joxer didn't agree with every single one of her observations, because he did. She was absolutely right.

And since these local villages and farming communities were on the outskirts of Corinth, they were under Iphicles jurisdiction. Truth to tell, Joxer didn't envy the King when Gabrielle got her little hands on him, he was certain that the Bardic Amazon was going to be eloquent, long winded and most likely gripping her staff like the dangerous weapon it truly was.

No, Joxer didn't have a problem with her beliefs in equal rights for women and children, he just didn't want to hear her go on and on at length about it. Hence, the fall. Two boots and the bottom tip of a staff came into view as his thoughts swirled down to a stop.

"Joxer? You okay?"

"...fine..."

The word was little more than a breathless wheeze.

Then a hand was grabbing hold of his arm and helping him to get back up. Carefully, he scrambled to his feet and began to try and straighten out his mishmash armor. Gabrielle eyed him up and down, seemingly to look for any injuries. Seeing none, her expression went from concern to exasperation as her mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed.

"Just... be more careful."

Sheepish grin number 27 firmly in place, Joxer nodded his head hard enough to rattle his helmet. Gabrielle gave him a hard look as if trying to decide if she could trust him to continue walking and not fall down again before finally offering a tiny little smile. Nodding her own head once, she then turned back to where Xena waited on her horse. Joxer watched as the bard stepped up the dark haired woman and pulled in a deep breath as if to speak. Almost in a panic that she would start up on the same topic as before, Joxer clutched one hand on top of his wobbly helmet and dashed forward.

"Hey! Gabby?"

Caught with her mouth open to speak but before any words could come out, Gabrielle turned to face him. Her jaw snapped shut and she grimaced a tight almost-smile. When she spoke, it was with that controlled modulated voice that one used with unruly children who couldn't help but annoy the crap out of you, even unintentionally.

"Yes, Joxer?"

"Tonight, after dinner? Do you think you can tell us a story? I was thinking maybe the one about Prometheus. I love that story. Xena and Hercules working together to save him while you guarded Iolaus to make sure he'd stay alive long enough to survive the rescue."

While he spoke, Joxer swung his arms about as if holding an imaginary sword and was fighting off several warriors at once. Gabrielle's eyes lit up and Xena smiled indulgently. He knew that the easiest way to divert Gabby's mind and to keep her happy at the same time was to request a story. No bard could resist that. And the best part was, when he heard a story retold, he could always find a new observation or point of view to comment on that he was certain that neither woman had seen before.

That was the biggest part of his job. Making them think. Opening up doors for them to view the world through the eyes of a victim. That was mostly for Xena's benefit. Her need to travel Greece while fighting off bandits and evil doers wasn't so much for the righting of wrongs as it was more of a personal quest for redemption. And as the God of Redemption, he took his cousin's situation very seriously. Xena was his top priority, which was why he occasionally took mortal form and traveled with her so he could personally guide her and aid her.

Gabrielle was a different matter. She wasn't one of his mortals. In fact, for a while there, Apollo and his twin sister Artemis had gotten into an argument over her. Apollo insisted that as a bard, Gabby was his. Artemis claimed that as an Amazon, she was hers. They had come close to messing up his plans for Xena by yanking Gabrielle away, so he had grabbed his Grandma 'Dite and his lover Ares and went to go straighten that out.

Ares wasn't too happy about it. He *really* disliked Gabrielle, but his daughter adored her and if he couldn't have Xena as one of his worshipers, then he at least wanted her happy. Not that the volatile War God could understand how Gabby would make anyone happy, but that was besides the point. 'Dite had gone on about the two of them being in love and heading down the path to coupledom. He himself had simply said that Xena was Gabby's focus for the muses to inspire her writing while Gabby was Xena's inspiration for redemption. Faced with the fact that other Gods also had claims on the blonde bard, the Sun God and the Goddess of the Hunt both offered to share "their" Amazon Bard with the Houses of Love and War in order to "help" their niece Xena.

His Grandma got to continue with her matchmaking between the two women and both Apollo and Artemis got the satisfaction of weaseling a bodyguard for one worshipper each from Ares. Ares got the pleasure of a very grateful lover bending over backwards, literally, in order to thank him for all his help. However, in the end, he had gotten what he wanted and that was what counted.

Now, he was back in the mortal realm for a while, tagging along after his pet project and her blonde bard. He smiled at the relative silence as Gabrielle's mind was turned away from her earlier complaints while she reviewed all of her memories of the time that her and Xena had teamed up with Hercules and Iolaus to free Prometheus. Joxer could hear her composing and rewriting her tale out loud up ahead as he lagged further and further behind.

Suddenly, their was a shimmer in the air and when he turned his head he watched the images of the trees along the side of the road distort and warp as if he was looking through a piece of wavery glass. Then, with a soft *pop* of displaced air and the scent of burning ozone, his father was there with a wide grin and a maniacal gleam in his pale eyes.

"Hey Pops! How's Dad?"

Those cold eyes softened for a moment.

"Th' feathah head is drivin' me up th' proverbial wall. An' that just ain't right, ya know? I mean, drivin' people nuts is *my* job."

Joxer grinned. His pops was pretty hard to annoy. Pulling pranks on him doesn't work since he merely laughs at the joke and then critiques your performance by pointing out how you could have done it better. Joxer figured it was the whole "God of Mischief" thing.

"Why? What's he doing now?"

Strife sighed and shook his head sadly. All in all, Joxer thought that the melodrama was a bit overdone, but then again, Jace was the actor in the family - not Pops. That distinctly irreverent observation earned a quick flash of a grin from his father before the "woe is me" expression slid back over his features.

"When ya an' ya brothahs were first born, I told Cupie that th' *next* time that he wanted kids, then *he* could be th' one ta get all knocked up. Right?"

Joxer nodded his head. While being far too young to really remember it all clearly, even being a God, he had heard *all* the stories about how bitchy and whiny Strife had been during his pregnancy and about how difficult a delivery he had suffered. Not that anyone really could blame him. Triplets aren't easy for *anyone* and giving birth to three *winged* babies only made it harder. Now his dad was pregnant, as per agreement that this time *he* got the backaches and swollen ankles.

"Well, he's in th' process of redecoratin' ya and ya brothahs old bedroom ta get it ready for th' squirt. No big deal, right? Wrong! Th' place looks like a rainbow exploded all ovah everything in there an' I can't turn around twice without tryin' ta figure out a new lie about how nice it is so's that I don't hurt his feelin's. An' when I ain't convincin' enough, then he whines an' complains that I don't care."

Joxer tried to hold in the snort of laughter. He *really* did. Unfortunately, it built up inside of him until it was strong enough to force it's way out his nose. This merely made his sinuses throb and his eyes water. It also had the side effect of making his Pops glare at him. Biting his bottom lip, Joxer was finally able to pull himself together enough to speak.

"Hey, why don't you tell Dad that I said he should do up the room like a wildflower meadow here in the mortal realm. He could make the walls blue with moving pictures of clouds and birds and the sun. Then at night, the walls can darken a bit and the stars and moon can come out. Instant night light. The carpet can be made to look like grass with little flowers all over it."

Strife considered that for a moment.

"Th' idea has merit. A little fine tuning an' it could work. I'll tell Cupie ta give it a shot. Th' worst that could happen is that he might not like it. An' *anything's* bettah than th' bright fuchsia walls, lemon yellow ceilin' an' th' blue an' purple stripped floor. I'm gonna have nightmares about *that* particular decoratin' disaster for *years* ta come."

Joxer could only stare at his Pops in horror as he visualized the nursery in his parent's temple painted in those colors. He shuddered. The only explanation that he could think of was the hormones. His Dad usually had better taste than that.

"So, where are ya an' th' broads headin' off ta?"

Joxer shrugged.

"Corinth. Xena heard some rumors about an overly ambitious merchant who thinks that he can buy the throne out from under Iphicles. You might want to check into that yourself, as well. He's supposedly been buying up a lot of mercenaries to act as muscle to get what he can't buy outright. We can't let Iphicles loose that throne. Hercules would flip because it's his brother and Ares will flip because it took a lot of finagling to get Jason out of there and Iphicles into the palace."

Strife hissed through his teeth.

"What's th' guys name? I'll do what I can ta slow his campaign down."

Joxer shared a nasty conspiratorial grin with his father. He suddenly predicted a lot of unforeseen complications in this would-be-king's life. Little things like; spoiled food, rippled clothing, clouds of bugs, frogs in his boots, shied horses and a never ending list of lost and missing items. It was always sort of fun to turn his father loose on some poor schmoe. He was so creative and it was joy to watch him work.

"Guy named Procureious."

Strife nodded and Joxer remembered the bard's earlier tirade. He snorted again.

"Besides, this will give Gabby a chance to lecture Iphy about women's rights."

Strife gave him a long look before bursting out into giggles. Joxer pouted.

"What?"

"If old Iphy there don't take ta th' idea of girl power, ya should call in ya Aunt Artemis an' ya Aunt Athena ta help with th' lecture. Arte' will beat th' snot out of him an' 'Thena will make his ears bleed by naggin' him till th' end of time. Those two are some *seriously* liberated broads."

Joxer's face almost cracked from the force of his smile as he imaged the look on Iphicles face if Athena and Artemis showed up to yell at him. Then he imagined the looks on his Aunts faces if they found out that Strife had referred to them as "broads" again after they had gone to the trouble of freaking out on him about it before. His father picked up on that idea and his face turned panicky for a second before he scowled.

"Don't ya *dare* tell your Aunts I said that. My luck, they'll both have PMS or somthin'. Cut me some slack here, wouldja? I was raised by War an' Discord. A pack of wolves woulda learnt me more manners, ya know?"

Joxer had to give his father that one. He loved Ares very much, but his lover was not the most politically correct God on Olympus. And his Grandma Eris was a lovely, talented and highly intelligent woman who was never more happy then when she was making big strong men cry for their mommies. He got a lot of business thrown his way from her. She'd punish some schmuck for something and then they'd end up wanting to turn over a new leaf and thereby avoiding her wrath for the rest of their born days. As the God of Redemption, he always got busy when his Grandma Eris had PMS. He was just glad that he and his brothers hadn't been born until *after* the Great Tampon Shortage of 425bce. His lover still told horror stories about Discord from that time.

"No problem. Exnay on the rods-bay. So... change of subject, change of subject... Oh! I know. How come whenever you look at art, you know, vases and urns, statues and tapestries... the people are always naked, half naked or simply wrapped up in a sheet? I mean, it's not like we all don't walk around in clothing that won't be invented for another thousand years on the other side of the continent."

Strife looked thoughtful for a moment.

"True. I think it's because of TIIC's fear of censorship."

Joxer looked puzzled.

"Who?"

Strife smirked.

"TIIC. The. Idiots. In. Charge. They're th' ones running this show, but since this is a fanfic, I can help ya out with this discrepancy, if ya want."

Joxer considered it for about a minute and a half. Then, his face broke out into an evil leer much more suited to his brother Jett, the God of Murder.

"Okay. Go for it."

Strife paused a moment, a look of intense concentration on his face as he considered all of the changes he would have to make. After all, this would be the biggest prank that he had pulled in a long time, and as the God of Mischief, he was well aware that the planning was in the details.

"I'll need a little help. This'll take a lot of power ta do. Syndication rights being what they are an' all."

Joxer nodded his head and briefly shimmered out of his mortal disguise as Joxer the Mighty. In his place there now stood a dark winged God in a pair of brown leather pants. The God of Redemption reached out and grabbed hold of his father's hand.

"Thanks, kiddo."

Suddenly, Joxer swayed on his feet as the Mischief God siphoned off a huge amount of his power reserves. He could feel all that energy mix with and then merge with his father's as it built up inside of him. Strife began to glow with a nimbus of power. Then, in a swift and soundless blast that still somehow managed to make his ears pop, that energy burst out of his father and swept out across Greece in an ever widening circle. When it was done, Strife collapsed into Joxer's arms, a tired and self-satisfied smirk on his pale face.

"Aaaaaaggghhhhh!!!!!! Xena! My clothes!"

Gabrielle's hysterical voice ran out loudly through the woods. Joxer and Strife shared a quick grin even as Joxer shimmered back into the mortal persona of Joxer the Mighty. As he did so, he found himself to be loosely wrapped in a blue dyed linen sheet and nothing else. Helping his father back onto his unsteady feet, he chuckled.

"Shall we go see the ladies?"

Strife grinned and nodded.

"Yeah. An' I should just warn ya, you'll be seein' a whole lot more of them then ya ever have before."

Quickly, they shared a brief wink and then they dashed off around the bend where Xena and Gabrielle had gotten ahead of Joxer. When they got there, the sight stopped them both as they gaped in a mixture of humor and appreciation.

Xena still sat upon Argo, but her red felt underdress had been exchanged for a red soft linen drape and her leathers had been replaced with a molded bronze breastplate and a molded bronze backplate that were held onto her body by a series of leather straps. Her boots were gone and she now wore open toed sandals on her feet. Her weapons hadn't been touched. A furious scowl twisted her full lips and she was the epitome of beauty and danger. The fact that Ares was her sire was never more obvious.

Gabrielle, on the other hand, was far closer to naked than the rest of them. The bag with her scrolls was still there and so was her staff. That was about it. Her boots, skirt and tank top had been replaced, not with a full sheet, but with a winding strip of pale yellow cloth that wound about her body. Her feet were bare. She wasn't so much scowling as she was trying to figure out a way to make her bag cover her front and her back at the same time.

Trying to repress a fit of hysterical giggles and a leer at the same time, Joxer heard his father's voice muttering in his ear.

"Replace that bag with a floppy hat, th' staff with a caduceus an' slap a pair of winged sandals on her feet an' she'd be a deadringer for Hermes."

Reaching the point where he could no longer contain it, Joxer burst out with a snort of amusement. Unfortunately, that just made a pissed off Xena and a freaked out Gabrielle focus solely on *him*, what with Strife being invisible to mortals and all. Suddenly, he didn't think that his idea was such a great one anymore.

A growl that was remarkably reminiscent of Ares rumbling in her throat, Gabrielle stomped over to Joxer, swatted him with her staff *hard* and then ripped his blue linen sheet off of him. Since it was wrapped around his body, this made him spin in a circle before he fell over onto the ground. His father's giggles rang in his ears.

"Ya can't blame th' broad, she though ya were laughin' at her tits. That's a dangerous area ta be expressin' an opinion about. If ya like 'em, you're a pig. If ya don't, you're still a pig. It's a classic no-win situation."

Shaking his head with a tiny sigh, Joxer pushed himself up into a seated position only to have Gabrielle's little strip of yellow cloth flutter down to land on his head. Raising one eyebrow, he saw that she was winding his blue sheet around her own body and he sighed again.

"...me and my big mouth..."

Strife snorted in amusement.

"Just for that, ya should wrap that thing around your head like a turban an' make 'em stare at your dangly bits all day."

Joxer just glared at his father.

"Not helping here."

Strife tilted his head back and laughed as he slowly disappeared from Joxer's sight. His parting words whispered along the breeze.

"Have fun in Corinth, Joxer."

*fini*