"Ach, are we no' there yet?"<br/><br/>Most people wouldn't have made out the faint murmur of discontent that came from within Jack's jacket. Most people however did not have a Scions superhuman level of hearing.<br/><br/>"Houl yer wheesht, or I'll gie ye a slap upside the heed."<br/><br/>"Oh aye? You and what army, ye scunner?"<br/><br/>Jack gave a small sigh and reached into the jacket, taking out a silver hip flask, which was now resounding with assorted faint growling, swearing and sounds of fighting. He flipped the lid up and blew across the open mouth, all noise within ceasing immediately. He upended the flask and tapped the bottom, a glowing nimbus of light flowing out of it and coalescing into an assortment of blue legs, arms and heads, all wearing expressions of studied innocence. This was somewhat marred by the the fact they were either involved in a mad brawl or the most bizarre game of Twister Jack had ever seen.<br/><br/>"What's with the fighting this time?" Jack enquired, his voice calm.<br/><br/>"What fighting would that be?" asked Big Yin, largest of the group at a resounding 7 inches tall. "No fighting here." Wee Mad Angus nodded heartily in agreement, as much as he could at least with Big Yins grip on his throat.<br/><br/>Jack massaged the bridge of his nose with two fingers and took another look at the group. "Daft Willy, is that your own leg you're about to bite?"<br/><br/>"Ah, I don't know." the Pictsie replied, promptly bit it and yelped in pain. "Aye, it is that."<br/><br/>Jack gave him a flat stare. "Why did you just bite your own leg?"<br/><br/>"It's mah leg, I'll bite it if'n ah wants to."<br/><br/>That kind of logic was hard to argue with. Thankfully Jack had managed to learn at least a few ways around Pictsie logic since this band had joined him.<br/><br/>"I have Pizza." he announced.<br/><br/>The silence was immediate, and he could feel the weight of 5 pairs of eyes on him.<br/><br/>"Dominos double decadence. Extra cheese. Should be just about ..." the ding of the micro wave cut him off. His eyes flicked to the kitchen on the tour bus for no more than half a second, and by the time he looked back down, he was alone.<br/><br/>"Ready." he finished. "Grab me ..." he started to call out, when something cold was placed in his hand. "A Coke. Thanks." By now there was also a plate in front of him, containing three slices of pizza, thankfully this time without tiny footprints in the barbeque sauce.<br/><br/>"Dig in." he said, and winced slightly at the slobbering sounds that came from the direction of the pizza box. "Then we have to talk. Dad dropped by. He's got a job for us to do."<br/><br/>A head popped up, liberally smeared with barbeque sauce. "Will there be fighting?"<br/><br/>"Probably." Jack replied, popping the ringpull on the Coke.<br/><br/>"Drinking?"<br/><br/>"An' feasting?"<br/><br/>"I wouldn't be at all surprised."<br/><br/>"An' stealing?"<br/><br/>"Knowing you lot, yes."<br/><br/>The pizza box let loose with a rousing cheer.<br/><br/>Jack leaned his head back and took a long pull on the Coke. No one mentioned being a God was like this.<br/>