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It rang right through his mind, sharp as a knife and equally painful, but lasted just for a moment, too brief for him to correctly process it.
The sound left an unpleasant sensation in him, one Jack could, oddly enough, perceive with more than just his hearing.
It was in his mouth, sour and unpalatable.
It was in his paws, a tingle that made his fingers twitch unconsciously.
And… it was in his eyes, a picture which refused to come into focus for at least two full seconds. “What…”, he murmured, as the shimmering feeling vibrating in his whole essence slowly poured into wary, almost unsteady words, “What are you doing here, Walker?”
Cynthia was looking at him, not making a sound nor moving a single inch of her soft, beautiful body as she stood next to the window. The distances between them felt nullified by the way her amber eyes were focusing on him, piercing through his figure like pointy darts.
He felt nullified, and only pride prevented him from beating a retreat.
That, and the fact he was in his own office. “I believe I asked you a question”, he inquired, trying to sound firmer. “I would appreciate…”.
“I don’t care what you appreciate”. She suddenly spoke, with a voice that Jack had never heard coming from her; it filled the air around them, saturated every inch of him with subtle, mute anger. “We need to talk, Savage.”
“Not now, I’m afraid. I have a plane leaving for Mosca in four hours”, was his dry reply as he moved towards the desk, every single one of his steps feeling as heavy as ever. He dared not make eye contact with her a second time – the first had caught him unprepared and been enough to give him the shivers. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“I’m not planning to make this conversation last for that long”. Jack felt her glare all over his body and soul as she pronounced those bitter words. “But I’m also not planning to let you get away from this.”
“I believe you’re mistaking something, Walker. There’s nothing I’m getting away from in the first place.”
“Is that so?” Cynthia asked, but it sounded like an accusation, more than an actual question. “I beg to differ, Mr. Savage.”
“Beg all you want, but it won’t change the facts”. He now was in front of his desk, trying to remember what item he was supposed to pick from the drawer.
But it was hard, because his thoughts kept squirming out of his control every time he tried to focus on something that wasn’t Cynthia Walker’s existence.
Cynthia Walker, in his office.
Cynthia Walker, armed – maybe literally – with anything but good intentions.
And he knew why, but chose to confine that awareness in the deepest recesses of his heart as Cynthia retorted sharply: “You just can’t live without that condescension of yours, right?” A hint of frustration painted that question in rhetoric, a rhetoric that scraped the hare’s ears, making something inside of him bleed. “You’ve always been like this: Haughty… full of yourself, and insensitive.”
“… Is that why you’re here, Walker?” Jack asked, as the first sliver of his heart pitifully crumbled under the blows of her verbal aggression, “To insult me?”
Illustration for the story Promise I wrote, hum… two years ago, I think? The second I wrote about Jack and Cynthia, which tells something about their first encounter. Actually… it doesn’t say anything, probably. It’s hard to tell what’s happening with no context, I’m aware of this fact. But one day, this context will be deepen and little stories like this will finally make sense.
See you tomorrow with White Sound, the story which goes along with this illustration. Hope you’ll like it!
This is a – quite powerful – illustration that I asked Rem to do for a certain story I’m currently writing (it’s not finished yet). Its name, indeed, is White Sound.
This story should partially explain what happened between Jack and Cynthia in the past that caused their relationship to freeze. Partially, because it is our intention to deepen this fact in the original comic we’re planning to make after Black Jack’s finale.
🔎 You can find the HD version of this artwork on our Patreon, here.
While waiting for the story, you can try to guess what’s happening here or simply enjoy the view of Cynthia crushing Jack’s shoulder. Your choice.
It was a perfect ‘princess carry’. Straight out of a romantic movie. I watched him as he gallantly held the princess of Venezuela in his tiny – yet strong – arms, his slender figure contrasting with the size of the mammals who were surrounding the cave where she had been held captive in the last 48 hours.
It was perfect… and absolutely disgusting.
“The princess is safe.” One of Diana’s personal guards, an elephant, waved his trunk to them. “This way, Mr. Savage.”
Jack nodded and got the princess down – ‘It was about time, Jesus Christ’ – with a soft smile. “Are you okay, Princess Diana?” he asked.
“I’m fine, thank you.” The princess took one of his paws and held it for unknown reasons. “You were so brave…” she said. “So fearless! Intrepid! Undaunted…”
“Savage” I began, approaching them, “Did you secure the area?”
“Yes” he confirmed. “Nobody is going to come outside the cave. Not alive, at least.”
I clicked my tongue with a grin. “Tsk. You really are Savage, aren’t you?”
“Hey, stop calling him savage!” she grunted. “It’s such a harsh, graceless word, Ms. Hiker.”
“It’s Walker, and I wasn’t naming an adjective. I was just addressing my… associate.”
“… Associate.” Jack looked at me with canny eyes. “I keep downgrading, it seems.”
I rolled my eyes. “Aren’t we associates?”
“And what will we be tomorrow? Acquaintances?”
“Don’t fight!” the princess suddenly bawled, coming between us. “I just got rescued, we need to celebrate!”
“Actually, we need to come back to the headquarter.” I put a pawn on Jack’s shoulder – who glared at me, unhappy – and gave the skunk a wry smile. “I hope you won’t be kidnapped again, princess Diana.”
“Walker, you’re atomizing my shoulder.”
“Bear with it.”
“No, really” he grumbled, “it hurts.”
“Aw, fine then.” I let his delicate shoulder go with a sarcastic smirk. “… Poor thing.”
“Hey.”
“But…” Diana mumbled, “you should relax a bit, before returning to the headquarter. How about I give a party, tonight?” She suggested. “Would you like to come? I mean, you worked so hard… you deserve a little entertainment.”
“You’re too generous, princess” Jack replied, “but…”
“Oh, please!” She clung to his arm and begged: “Stay, Mr. Savage!”
“Hum…” Jack scratched his cheek, a bit flushed. Then, he turned to me and asked: “Walker, what do you think?”
‘… I think Princess Diana needs to mind her damn princely business.’ “We have no time for parties, Savage.”
In the face of that question, an electrical discharge seemed to pass through Cynthia Walker. Her ears suddenly perked up, her amber eyes widened and her paw, which had been lazily lying on the desk up until that moment, twitched and hit the pen nearby.
It fell to the ground and rolled to the feet of Jack Savage. At that point, the hare corrected his sentence: “… Chamomile?”
“I…” the fox looked at him, shocked. “You surprised me, Mr. Savage.”
“I didn’t mean to” he replied, dryly. “You had your head resting on the desk, so I thought you had fallen asleep.”
Judging by her foggy eyes, his deduction was probably quite correct. However, if he had got to know her a bit, Cynthia would have never admitted it.
“You caught me in a weak moment.” She immediately played defense, and Jack couldn’t help but sigh because of that predictable reaction.
“It wasn’t supposed to be a criticism, Miss Walker.” … Despite his resignation to her attitude – or, maybe, because of that – the hare left the cup next to the pile of files rising from her desk – otherwise, there was a good chance that she would have refused it. “Drink it, if you want, or simply throw it. Your choice.”
Cynthia stared at him, blankly, and tilted her head. “Why you…?”
But he immediately cut her off. “I’ll leave you to your business. If you need help, give me a call.” With that, Jack Savage gave her a slight nod and proceeded to leave the office. When he reached the door, she called him.
“Jack.” She just pronounced his name, nothing more than that… but somehow, that mere word managed to be more eloquent than any other sentence they had said that day.
Jack turned and smiled at the fox. “You’re welcome” he replied, to save her the effort of saying words she wasn’t used to. “Good work, Cynthia.”
In his mouth, her name had a bittersweet taste.
___________________________________
This is the first story I have ever write on Jack and Cynthia, and the sketch that introduces it is also the first original drawing Rem has made to represent Cynthia. Really, both story and art are so old. The date is August 2, 2016. 20fucking16. It’s hard to believe that we managed to come this far… but we did; today, we’re still here, making what make us happy. Is there something more wonderful? 💖
For the original link of the story on AO3, go here.
For a complete map of all the stories and comics in their temporal sequence, please consult the story’s timeline! 👈
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration
Here it is! The legendary comic! The supreme SavageWalker content! OPERATION DINNERTIME! 🍽️💞
Frankly, I lost count of the people who asked us to continue this comic – as if there was any doubt – and I myself can’t wait to make the next parts. As I wrote in this newsletter, finishing OD will be our next priority right after BJ’s final chapter. So… stay tuned, my lovely fellows!
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration
“How’s she doing?” Jack asked, walking inside the room. As Kohle gave him a perplexed look, he coughed: “Walker, that is.”
Colonel smiled. “Come and see for youself” he said, then turned again to the young vixen beyond the separating screen. “She’s talented” he simply stated, but a prideful note sounded loud and clear in those few words.
Walker’s talent was something the hare had nor right neither intention to question. “That was not what I meant…” Jack tried to say, but he stopped as soon as he realized he didn’t know how to continue the sentence — what did he mean, exactly? “However,” he quickly changed the topic, “how long has she been there?”
“Less than an hour” replied Kohle. “She’s working him like she was born for this.”
“To paint others into a corner? Yes, I agree with you.” Jack wanted to crack a joke, but he sounded more serious than he intended to. He hoped Kohle hadn’t noticed… but judging by the way he was now looking at him, the dog had felt the frustration behind his words. “You two… I still don’t know if you get along very well or hate each other. Which is it?”
Jack shrugged. “Half ‘n half, I suppose. Overall, we sort of… communicate.”
“You’d make a great duo.” Kohle called him over; then, when Jack was close enough, he pointed out the weasel Cynthia was questioning. “She’s got the dialectics you lack, and you have a self-confidence she can only dream of. You complete each other.”
“We fight each other” Jack replied. “Quite often, actually. I think she despises me for some reason.”
“She doesn’t, trust me. Cynthia is just a little… uncooperative? And shy, terribly shy.”
‘Shy? Walker?’ Jack frowned. “With all due respect, colonel… I wouldn’t call Walker shy not even by mistake. As for uncooperative, though, I think it suits her very well.”
“Oh, my boy!” Kohle gave him a vigorous pat on the back. “You’re so dense it’s almost heartwarming.”
At that moment, something happened in the interview room: the weasel suddenly jumped over Walker, showing his claws and teeth. Jack’s paw instinctively reached for his gun as his eyes were literally glued on the scene; he saw Cynthia dodging the mammal, grabbing him by the neck and ultimately pinning him down on the table. All in a blink of eye.
“Wow” said Kohle. “How fast.”
Jack was at loss for words; his body relaxed, but his vision had been sucked into the fight to the point his brain was still processing what had just happened, replaying the scene over and over again. Soon after the incident, a panther came in and took custody of the weasel. Cynthia said something to the feline, then left the room mumbling to herself. That was when Jack finally came back to his senses and honestly thought: ‘Walker, you’re really something.’
As soon as she looked up and acknowledged Jack’s and Kohle’s presence, her eyes widened. “Wha… what are you doing here?” she asked, quite surprised.
“Observing you” Gregory Kohle replied, giving her a warm smile. “Amazing speed and reflexes, my dear.”
Cynthia shook her head. “Not exactly; I… had a vague prediction of how he was going to attack me, judging by his attitude” she explained, massaging her eyebrows. “At some point I thought he was about to jump right on me, but they were just mere conjectures. I was nowhere ready to defend myself if he would have ended up assaulting me from another angle.”
“But… being able to make such a prediction, isn’t it proof you’re amazing?” Jack found himself saying, one second in advance of his own, poor brain. He blinked, a little confused. “What?”
That’s exactly how I imagine Jack and Cynthia’s actual relationship: cozy, warm and filled with love. And we’ll do our best to make their future this lovely, it’s a promise. 💕
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post: ❣️ AoiRemArt Inauguration
Just a drawing I asked Rem to make because I desperately needed to see Jack and Cynthia in their traditional clothes – he’s from England and she’s from Norway 💕, Although they didn’t live in their native country for too much.
Please remember that this is aoimotion and rem289’s common blog, in which we’ll post all our works made together, past and future!
For more information, check this post:AoiRemArt Inauguration
