#and i think its convenient that they get one suit for formal occasions and can be done but i do like dresses sometimes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writerpeach · 4 years ago

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Hot & Cold

LOOΠΔ Kim Lip x Male Reader

9836 words

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The stars shined bright as you wandered through the downtown streets aimlessly, taking in the cool crisp air of the nighttime sky. Music filled the streets and your ears as you passed through a variety of stores, each one with its best wares on display to tempt you.

You were searching for a gift for Choi Yerim’s upcoming birthday, clueless on where to even start looking for ideas. It had been several weeks since you had been introduced to her, and while you knew a little about what her likes and dislikes were, buying the perfect gift that would make her special day seemed a daunting challenge.

The three of you were inseparable lately, spending most of your time outside of work at your favorite lunar themed cafe and the cutest barista that worked there who always threw in free drinks. Lately though, Hyejoo had spent more time than usual preoccupied with her new job until the late hours of the night, leaving you without her help and on your own for your quest.

There were the obvious choices of flowers and candy, and while you had to start somewhere those were boring choices. You wanted your gift to be special and worthy of the girl who you had spent so much time with lately, a girl who brought nothing but happiness and positivity into your life.

Walking past dozens of places, you waited for a store to catch your attention as most failed to offer anything substantial. One in particular caught your eye. Maybe it was the mannequins in the window wearing cute dresses that you easily pictured Yerim wearing, but this place spoke to you.

There wasn’t anything special or out of the ordinary as you walked in, a small looking boutique with high ceilings and bright lights, shelves filled with meticulously folded shirts and pants in diverse sets of colors, while plentiful dresses and accessories lined the walls.

You carefully looked around, not wanting to knock anything out of place as you browsed, unsure where to even begin. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the store, which wasn’t surprising given it was rather late in the evening, approaching nearer to closing time than you expected.

“Oh, hello, sir! Welcome to Lippington’s Exquisite Clothing,” you heard a soft husky voice call out in the distance, breaking the silence as you craned your head to see a slim blonde heading in your direction.

The clack of high heels on the wooden floor grew louder with each step as she approached, her hips swaying as she sauntered through the clothing store to close the distance, forming a small smile on her lips.

When the blonde woman stepped into frame you were met with her beauty at point-blank range. It was fairly unmistakable that her golden locks weren’t natural, not that it made her any less beautiful, not a hair out of place and there must have been a lot of effort put into maintaining such a wondrous shade. You didn’t know a thing about fashion, but the black sequin dress she had on sparkled in the light, doing her small body wonders and fitting perfectly.

It seemed a little risque for a place of employment, showing off bare shoulders and barely covering up her upper chest, but you weren’t one to judge, especially when she pulled it off flawlessly. It wasn’t too tight nor was it or too short, leaving part of her body to the imagination and above else it looked expensive. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t something that could have been picked up off one of the many racks.

Her fingernails were painted dark black, something you always loved on a woman as the color matched her dress, topping it all off with a light shade of red lipstick that made her small lips pop out.

You had to snap out of your haze as you caught yourself staring, frantically darting your eyes around the store in an attempt to not appear rude.

“My name is Jungeun, can I help you find anything?”

“Ah, actually, yes. I’m looking for a present for a woman. She’s young, about your age.”

“Of course, I’d be happy to help. Is she your girlfriend?”

“Uh, not exactly. She’s a good friend of mine,” you said, stumbling over your words as true as they were. You still hadn’t formed any type of relationship with Yerim, and hearing those words out loud brought out several feelings.

The beautiful woman sensed your hesitation in answering her simple question but was eagerly happy to help anyways.

“We have several sections for women to choose from. Is there a style that you think she would be interested in?”

You found yourself caught unprepared by all her questions, even though they were just to help out. Now, whereas Hyejoo was often a sweatpants and t-shirt type of girl, Yerim loved to put in effort into her outfits, even if it was a simple trip to a convenience store.

“She wears dresses a lot. Mostly cute ones.”

“I see. Let me show you some dresses that I can help you pick out that you think she would like.”

The woman led the way as you followed, trying not to focus your attention on her backside as much as you would have liked, stopping at the front of the store in a section with several racks of dresses surrounding a giant mirror.

“Do you know what size your...friend is?” she asked, and you’re pretty sure she was teasing you. You definitely didn’t know Yerim’s size. Hell, you didn’t even know how dress sizes worked.

“No, I don’t,” you said, having a brief moment of panic. You could have asked Hyejoo, but calling her at work was an option if you could have gotten ahold of her.

“I could show you a picture of her, would that help?”

“It’s a start,” she coldly said. You grabbed your phone and looked through several pictures trying to find a suitable one that showed her body off the best, making sure to not accidentally click on the folder of private pictures Yerim had sent for your eyes only.

You came across one of your favorite pictures of Yerim, wearing a cute white flowery dress standing in front of the mirror, looking adorable as usual. You handed Jungeun your phone who stared at it intently for several moments as if she had just seen a ghost.

“Yerim…” she muttered under her breath.

“Oh, do you know her?”

“Yes,” she simply stated, handing you back her phone. “We met at Girl Front Academy and studied together for three years until we went our separate ways. I haven’t talked to her since then, but it seems she’s still sickeningly cute,” Jungeun said, and you couldn’t tell if her reaction was of annoyance or not.

“Her body isn’t too far from mine, but she’s much curvier than I am. She always had better thighs than me,” she said, and this time you could definitely tell she was annoyed as if she were lacking in the body department.

“I’ll show you a few things that should fit her.”

The smile faded from her lips as she went through several clothing racks, picking out a dress from each one that stood out in a completely different look.

“Some of these may not be her style. This one is a little frilly, and this one is maybe a little too revealing,” Jungeun said, letting you see them all. They all had their appeal, and while you could have just gone overboard and bought them all, you didn’t want to seem desperate. You needed to find the perfect dress and had confidence that this woman would help you do just that.

“I like these two,” you said, choosing one that was casual and one that was formal. Jungeun was right, one was too skimpy, too gaudy, and one was too...you couldn’t find the words but there were much better choices. They all looked nice, but the dresses left behind didn't really didn’t match Yerim’s style.

“Both excellent choices,” Jungeun said, holding them up side by side. To her left was a simple purple cocktail dress with a wide neckline and thin straps, which seemed to be about knee-length, ruffled and slightly see-thru at the base. You selfishly wanted it to be much shorter, knowing her luscious thighs being covered up was a crime but remembered this was a gift for her and not you.

The other dress Jungeun held was colorful to say the least. Lace with black at the top, dark red at the end and woven colorful fabric in the middle, equipped with a multitude of gemstones. The dress was much longer than the previous one, given Yerim’s height it would practically be touching the floor, but also had a more elegant touch to it.

To say you had trouble deciding between the two would be an understatement. Given your ignorance, you would have picked the dress on your left based on color alone.

It was a good thing you had someone who seemed to be rather informed on the subject of clothing given that it was her job as she sensed your indecisiveness as your eyes wandered back and forth.

“This one would be good for any occasion, it's thin and comfortable without being too skimpy,” Jungeun said as she held it up higher than the other.

“Now, this one is better suited to dinner parties, weddings, ceremonies, that type of thing. It’ll flatter her body more but she’ll look out of place at a cafe obviously.”

“You have a knack for this, Jungeun.”

“Ah, well, thank you,” she shyly said. “You don’t own your own store for several years without knowing a little something about fashion.”

“You own this place?”

“I do. This’ll be the third year running this place. It’s been a little dead lately, but it’ll kick back up when spring comes.”

Jungeun let out another small smile, and you’re pretty sure her arms were getting tired from holding both dresses up.

“They’re both really nice dresses, but if you still can’t decide I could help out and try them on. I may not have the body that Yerim does, but it’ll look better on me than on a mannequin.”

“You’d do that? That seems like a lot of trouble, you really don’t have to, I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do.”

“It’s not that much trouble, there’s not much else to do as you can see. Might just close up early tonight if nobody else shows up.”

“Thank you, that would be appreciated.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll be back in a bit,” she said, heading towards the fitting room in the corner, taking both dresses with her. You waited just outside the door, taking a seat on the bench not unlike the same way you had for both Hyejoo and Yerim the dozens of times you were dragged away shopping with them.

She didn’t take that long to change into the first dress, walking out of the dressing room looking ready to take the runaway.

“What do you think?” she asked, as she spun around, letting you see every aspect of her in the casual dress.

“It’ll hug her body better, but it fits me nicely. It’ll look nicer with heels of course,” she said, taking note of the fact that she was barefoot. She did look rather nice in it, the dark color offset the brightness of her blonde hair, giving a glimpse at her luscious long legs as she modeled it for you.

“I like it.”

“Don’t choose until you see the other one. I’ll be right back.”

You gave a gentle nod as she disappeared back into the dressing room, and you eagerly waited for her return wanting to see a more close up look of the other dress. You had all but chosen this dress already, the formal dress had its work cut out for it and had some stiff competition.

More time passed than was expected while you waited for her to try on the other dress, not that you felt the need to complain. Maybe she was doing something different with the second dress that required more time as you sat there patiently, wasting time on your phone.

“Hey, uh. I could use some help,” you heard her call through the dressing room stall. You got out of your seat and headed over to her direction to check it out.

“What do you need?” you asked through the other side of the door.

The woman took a second of hesitation to respond. “I think the zipper’s stuck. It won’t budge. It’s unlocked, you can come in. I won’t bite.”

You’re not sure why she added that last part, but you opened the door and stepped inside to see her back to you, the zipper caught at the top of the dress. You grabbed it carefully and inspected it, pulling it down several times to no avail as it refused to work with you, unable to move like when you woke up in the mornings. Nothing worked, and you didn’t want to be too forceful with it.

“It’s not moving.”

Jungeun sighed loudly. “I should have designed this one better.”

“You designed this dress?”

“Yes, most of the clothing in this store is my own design. Anything that’s not is from other designers I know or collaborations.”

“That’s impressive.”

“It’s nothing really, I’ve been doing this my whole life,” she said nonchalantly. “Now, if it’s not going to unstuck itself you’re just going to rip it open.”

“You want me to rip it? There has to be something here we can fix it with.”

“It’ll take too long. Just be suck it up and rip it, I can fix it later.”

“If you insist,” you said, holding on to both sides of the dress you tugged hard on it, tearing the zipper down the middle as the sounds of fabric being torn filled the room as the dress became collateral damage.

“Impressive,” Jungeun said as your attention was on the now ruined dress, the zipper all the way down and dangling off to expose her back.

“Thanks, now let’s hope this other dress doesn’t give us the same type of trouble.”

“I’ll step out,” you said, heading towards the door when Jungeun’s eyes stopped you.

”What, have you’ve never seen a woman undress before?”

“Of course I have, but-”

“But what? It’s not a big deal, but if you’d prefer to wait outside, be my guest. I won’t be long.”

Well, you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you by now.

“I’ll stay then.”

“Good. Enjoy the show.”

With your back flat against the wall Jungeun began undressing, pulling the purple thin straps down her shoulders and hesitating, teasing you for a moment as your eyes met. Taking her time, she slipped her arms out of the purple cocktail dress and slowly peeling it down her body just past her waist, exposing her tight toned midriff.

Jungeun never kept her eyes off you, inching the rest of the dress off her body and wiggling her hips until gravity did the rest. The discarded garment draped around her ankles, leaving her in an alluring pair of simple white underwear, sheer in enough places that still let your imagination run wild. It was quite an unexpected sight.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, trying your best to keep your mouth closed as you let out an audible deep exhale at such a gorgeous woman. Her complexion was beautiful, her skin fair and immaculate and you desperately wanted to reach out and touch her body.

“Judging by the way you can’t stop drooling over me, I’m going to guess you like what you see?”

If seeing her tight body on display wasn’t enough, she had positioned herself (perhaps even strategically so), in front of the mirror, giving you the perfect view of the white thong nestled in between her firm buttcheeks.

“Your turn,” Jungeun said, snapping you out of your trance as she placed her hands on her hips.

“What?”

“It’s not very fair for me to be the only one who’s undressed is it? Come on, I wanna see what you’re packing,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk as she crossed her arms.

Things had certainly escalated. When you walked into this store you hadn’t expected to be seeing the owner in her bra and panties, and you certainly didn’t expect you were about to match her level of nudity.

If you needed any further encouragement, her round dark eyes let you know that she wasn’t joking, and when a woman in her underwear tells you to do something you didn’t dare disappoint.

Taking a deep breath you began unbuttoning your shirt, removing each button until you had stripped it off and tossed it on the ground. Jungeun eyed your bare chest like you were a piece of meat, not unlike the way you had gawked over her earlier.

“Keep going,” she urged, and bit her lip deeply, showing her approval as you unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants, not wasting time in yanking them off and kicked them away. It was difficult to process. There you were, standing across from a beautiful woman that owned the clothing store you had spontaneously picked, obviously ogling your mostly naked body while you were doing the same in return.

The whole series of events had gotten you so aroused that you hadn’t realized that your shaft had become full mast, sporting an unavoidable bulge through your boxers.

“Do you usually get this hard just by seeing a woman in her underwear?” she teased, as you looked down in embarrassment as your package dying to poke through, your cheeks instantly reddening.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, it’s perfectly natural,” Jungeun said as she approached your side of the small changing room, closing the distance and cupped your crotch, causing your body to tense up.

“I’d be a little disappointed if you weren’t getting excited,” she said, continuing to squeeze your crotch through your boxers.

"How would you like it if I took everything off?" Jungeun asked, using her free hand to run her hands through her golden locks, ruffling her perfectly styled hair seductively.

“I’m not that easy, you’ll have to at least buy me a drink to get my panties off. But I’ll give you a little something to hold you over,” she said as she slowly dropped to her knees on the stack of clothes that had piled up in the middle of the floor.

Jungeun wanted one thing as she grabbed your boxers and swiftly yanked them down to your ankles, your hard cock throbbing as it was released from its frustrating restraints. Her eyes lit up in excitement as she grabbed your cock and squeezed it with a gentle pressure, delivering slow pleasurable strokes as her thumb rubbed your sensitive swollen tip, making you leak over her slim fingers.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had some good cock. Too long,” Jungeun said as she flattened her tongue against the base of your shaft, slowly drawing upward and taking her time. You let out a soft moan as her pink tongue reached your swollen cockhead, swirling around and planting a wet kiss on your tip that made you shiver in delight.

“You’re so fucking hard,” she said as her wet tongue explored every inch, lapping up every drop that escaped from your leaking slit. Her lips pressed deeply against your throbbing shaft, moving from base to tip and not letting a spot go without a wet kiss that sent tingles up your spine.

“You did this to me,” you replied, and Jungeun answered not with words but with actions as her pouty lips parted with your shaft as it entered her warm mouth, her soft lips squeezing tight around your throbbing flesh as her cheeks hollowed.

“F-fuck, that’s good,” you moaned, leaning back into the dressing room’s wooden wall, as you watched Jungeun work your cock, bobbing her head up and down as her tongue followed, playing with your sensitive underside.

Jungeun’s mouth felt heavenly, her soft cherry lips wrapped tightly around your cock as she pleasured you, focusing on the first few inches of your flesh as she enveloped it with warm and wet sensations that overwhelmed you.

“That feels amazing, d-don’t stop,” you said, as the blonde woman who was practically still a stranger never ceased her oral assault on your cock. Her warm lips left a trail of warm saliva as you felt more of her throat, watching the deep lust in her eyes as she slowly sucked you off.

Shortly after you felt Jungeun’s mouth pushing deeper, her full lips sliding down your wet shaft with ease, distracting you and making you forget everything else. Jungeun wasn’t kidding as she seemed to be deprived of the taste of cock as she hungrily slurped on your shaft, voicing her satisfaction in giving you such a wonderful blowjob.

You couldn’t just stand there and watch the action unfold as you ran your fingers through Jungeun’s pretty blonde hair, guiding her movements as you placed a hand on the back of her head. She took the hint in stride, taking more of you down her throat as she gave your shaft deep satisfying strokes from base to tip, sticking her tongue out to please every inch of you she could.

“Jungeun…fuck,” you moaned, unable to control yourself any longer and grabbed a handful of hair, forming a tight fist around a makeshift ponytail as you used it to assist her into a faster rhythm that she didn’t seem to mind.

You kept Jungeun’s mouth busy, using her ponytail as your personal set of reins to force her mouth to the very end of your base repeatedly, using her mouth without mercy. She gave no sounds of discomfort, if anything she voiced the opposite as she slobbered all over your needy shaft, covering it with her messy drool as her throat was kept filled.

You kept this up for as long as you could, savoring Jungeun’s wet and hot mouth and occasionally gave glances towards the mirror to distract you with her delicious backside as the sounds of her slurping on your cock filled the room that caused you to moan even louder.

“F-fuck, Jungeun, I’m about to cum,” you said, releasing the tight grip you held on her hair as it fell back onto her beautiful shoulders.

“I wonder what you’ll taste like,” Jungeun said as she withdrew your cock from her wet mouth with a loud pop, using her tongue to frantically trace around your swollen tip, pushing you even more over the edge.

Jungeun could sense your climax wasn’t backing down as she took control of your cock, furiously stroking it as she opened her mouth and stuck her pink tongue out as she prepared to finish what she started.

You were almost there as your breathing shallowed, every long stroke from base to tip Jungeun gave your shaft made your balls tighten even more, her tongue flicking against your dripping slit to expedite your impending orgasm.

“J-Jungeun, I’m cumming!” you cried out as her grip tightened, her eyes laser-focused onto you as your throbbing cock shot cum directly onto her wet tongue and into the back of her mouth as she emptied you.

Multiple thick spurts of cum fired from your tip that caused you to moan with need, each feeling better than the last as a milky white pool collected on Jungeun's wet tongue as she worked your shaft, making sure to drain your balls thoroughly.

Jungeun made sure she squeezed out every drop as she kept her mouth open, making a show of swirling your fresh load, sloshing it around before she closed her mouth. You watched the beautiful sight of Jungeun's throat gulping as she swallowed it all.

“Not bad, I guess,” she said, displaying her now empty pink tongue and licked her lips, sucking the sensitive tip of your depleted shaft to make sure there were no more remnants left, forcing a reaction that made your entire body shake.

Jungeun stood back up and gave your cock a few final strokes, making sure she kept a tight grip with every twist that drove you crazy.

"Okay, get out,” she abruptly said, as you leaned back against the wall in exhaustion.

“W-what?” you replied, trying to catch your breath as you picked out which clothes were yours from the discarded pile.

“I have to close this place up, it’s late and there are a lot of things that have to get done. You can leave after you get dressed.”

“What about the dress? I still need to buy Yerim something.”

“You can pick it up tomorrow, I'll hold it for you. You wanted this one didn’t you?”

“Y-yes, it’ll look good on her.”

“No, it’ll look great on her. We close at ten, show up anytime before that.”

“Can I at least get your number?”

“Ugh, fine I guess,” she said as you dug your phone out of your pants that you hadn’t bothered to put back on.

“Hope you enjoyed that. I don’t do that often, I just felt bad,” she said as she keyed in her number into your phone.

“You felt bad? That must be why I can see that wet spot on the front of your panties, Jungeun,” you said, and she quickly broke eye contact, embarrassed by her obvious enjoyment.

“You can let yourself out.”

Jungeun grabbed her clothes and left without another word, giving you one last glance at her perfect rear as she left the dressing room. You got dressed in a rush, not wanting to stay any longer and excited the clothing store, still feeling the fatigue setting in.

✦✦

Work kept you at the office longer than you had planned to be, which always seemed to always be the case, something that couldn’t be helped. After finishing tedious paperwork and last minute preparations for the next day you didn’t step out of the building until roughly after nine p.m and headed straight towards Jungeun’s clothing store, not bothering to change your clothes.

You made your entrance as quiet as possible, which wasn’t that difficult given she was finishing ringing up a customer as patiently waited for their transaction to finish up, casually browsing the clothing selection in the meantime.

“Didn’t think you were going to show up,” you heard, the unmistakable husky voice of Jungeun as she approached your area of the store. Her outfit was a little less flashy today, wearing a tight white top that showed off the outline of her breasts and very short jean shorts that showed off her amazingly long legs.

“Had a lot of work to finish before I could come here.”

“I know that feeling,” she said as she grabbed the purple dress you had decided on from behind the register.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t the same dress from yesterday, that one has been repurposed. This size should fit her, but if it doesn’t feel free to return it.”

“I’m sure it’ll fit her just fine. You know what you’re doing,” you said.

“I’d like to think so. You can go ahead and swipe your card now.”

“It’s cheaper than the price tag was yesterday,” you said as you inserted your card back into your wallet, putting in your pin number and completing the transaction.

“I threw in a discount. Think of it as a present from me to Yerim,” she said, batting her eyelashes as her lips formed a sweet smile.

“Thank you, Jungeun. That was very generous of you.”

“It’s not what you think. I’m just doing this as a favor, I don’t like you or anything,” Jungeun said as she bagged your gift for Yerim and handed it to you.

“I’m sure she’ll love it. Have a good night, Jungeun.”

You took your next step but before you could even finish placing your foot down Jungeun grabbed your wrist, keeping you in place.

“Aren’t you going to buy me that drink?” she asked, gently squeezing your arm with her small hand as you looked down at her pretty fingernails.

You didn’t typically drink on a Thursday night, but you also didn’t typically get a blowjob in a dressing room from a beautiful woman. It’s not like you couldn’t use it either, work continued to pile up and you hadn’t even had a chance to depressurize from it all.

“Okay, I’d like to buy you a drink, Jungeun.”

“Good, because I could certainly use one. Maybe even two.”

“I know the perfect place.”

“I’ll need to finish up here, looks like nobody else is showing up so I can get started on closing. Send me the address, I’ll meet you there in an hour.”

✦✦

Just a little over an hour later you pulled up a chair in a familiar place, taking a seat at the counter in your favorite dive bar you had been to dozens of times - both yourself and with the company of Yerim and Hyejoo. Taking a look around there was both familiarity and a lack thereof to the place.

New paintings had been hung, the walls painted with a fresh coat paint that made the place pop, and the rickety wooden stools had been replaced with fancier black ones, adding a hint of sophistication to the joint. It still needed tons of work but it was a start.

“Hey stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while,” you heard a distinctive deep voice speak out, one that could only belong to your favorite bartender Heejin. Your eyes met as she flashed a beautiful smile as she wiped down the counter.

“Work has kept me away from this place,” you said, as Heejin’s lips formed a deep out on her features. It was difficult to see in the dim lights, but her hair had been dyed a lighter shade of brown, making her more beautiful than the last time you came here.

“You here alone? I’m used to seeing you with those two cute girls,” she said, putting up bottles of alcohol and restocking clear straws on the counter.

“I’m waiting for someone. Met her yesterday.”

“Ooh, how exciting. Tell me all about her,” Heejin said as she leaned forward, capturing your attention.

“I don’t know that much about her yet other than she’s a fashion designer. She owns her own clothing store downtown by the pier.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. I’m sure she’s lovely. Can I get you started on anything while you wait?”

“I’ll just take a beer for now.”

“Coming right up!”

No more than a few seconds later Heejin placed down an ice cold mug directly in front of you filled to the brim with just a touch of foam. You slipped a few dollars in her stuffed tip jar, earning an ear to ear grin as she excused herself.

Moments later the seat next to you became occupied, the familiar perfume wafting through your nostrils that could be one person, Jungeun.

“Sorry I’m late, I had some last minute customers I had to deal with,” she said, placing her large purse on the bar counter in front of her.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m glad you could make it,” you said, taking your first sip of beer and wiping the foam from your lips.

“This place is a bit of a dump, isn’t it?” Jungeun bluntly said, not mincing her words.

“I don’t come here for the atmosphere.”

“Why do you come here then?” she asked, as Heejin came back and bent over to grab something off of the lower shelf, her tight pants doing her body justice as she flashed a smile as she rose up.

“Oh I see why,” she said, letting out a loud chuckle as she covered her mouth with her hand.

“That’s not it,” you insisted. “I like the drinks here. It’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Well, I’d hate to see how bad it looked before,” she said, rolling her eyes as she signaled Heejin over.

“Hi there! What can I get you?”

“A glass of red wine please.”

Heejin was nothing but diligent and before you could blink Jungeun was inspecting her half-filled glass of dark red wine, determined to find something wrong with it before indulging. For some reason she didn’t seem like a wine girl to you, but to be fair you didn’t know much about her other than she gave a spectacular blowjob.

“You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?” Jungeun said out of the blue, swirling her glass around before taking her first taste.

“What?” you said, nearly choking on your malty beverage.

“The cute girl with the brown hair. The way she looks at you makes me think she’s done more than serve you a drink,” Jungeun teased, crossing her legs.

You sighed loudly. “What are you a mind reader? Yes, I may have seen her naked on an occasion...or three.”

“No, it just seemed rather obvious. Who you sleep with isn’t my business though,” Jungeun said, and you swore there was a hint of jealousy in her tone as she swirled her drink in the dim light and watched the red liquid sloshing around.

Jungeun looked around, unsatisfied at what she saw. Clearly she was used to a higher stand of establishment. Her wine glass was already half-finished, she quickly threw her head back and poured the rest down her mouth, and you can’t say you ever saw someone drink wine like that.

“I’m tired of this place. Let’s get out of here.”

“We just got here-”

“And I know a better place we can go that doesn’t have bad music. ”

“Where exactly would that be?”

“My apartment,” Jungeun replied, flashing seductive bedroom eyes.

“If you were that eager we could have just skipped this part.”

“What, and miss out on a free drink? That’s the only reason I showed up.”

“Oh, and here I was thinking it was because you enjoyed my company.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I-It’s not like I wanted you to fuck me,” Jungeun said, making a show out of fixing her hair as she left her chair and grabbed her purse.

“I’ll meet you outside, thanks for the drink.”

Jungeun became harder to read with every minute you knew her. One minute she was batting her eyes and flirting with you and touching your shoulder, the next she barely seemed interested in you. It didn’t matter too much as you just had a personal invitation to her place and that was your golden ticket. You had barely touched your drink but that didn’t seem as important anymore as you paid your tab and left Heejin a generous tip as always.

“Guess someones getting lucky tonight,” Heejin teased as she waved goodbye, and you weren’t quick sure what you were getting yourself into.

A short ten minute taxi ride and you were following Jungeun up a set of stairs and waiting for her to unlock her apartment door.

“It’s not much, but it’s cozy,” she said as she bent down to remove her heels as you slipped your own shoes off and gently placed them carefully on the ground.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” she said, gesturing for you to follow her as you took a quick look around. The living room was small but decorated with various paintings and a white leather couch big enough for multiple people, with small black throw pillows on either end. Underneath the glass coffee table was a huge blue rug and a pink makeup pouch left behind.

“Here’s the kitchen. I don’t cook much,” she said as her bare feet walked through black marble tile floors that looked spotless. It wasn’t the fanciest kitchen, but you would have loved to make a meal here sometime. In the center was a small kitchen island and a few stools, the counter wiped clean and a bowl of delicious looking fruit that you couldn’t tell was fake or not.

Jungeun led you past the kitchen as you looked at the various appliances she had gathered, a high-end blender caught your eye that rivaled those you had seen at cafes.

“Here's the bathroom,” she said, a huge assortment of various types of makeup lined the counter, once again perfectly clean as if she was expecting a visitor. Her shower was quite spacious, it was definitely the first time you’d seen one large enough to have two showerheads. The wall was patterned with black tile that contrasted nicely with the rest of the white bathroom.

“Last stop,” Jungeun said as she took several steps ahead of you, giving you the chance to take in her body as her hips swayed and you watched her long legs.

“And this is where you’ll be fucking me,” Jungeun bluntly said as she stopped at her bedroom.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Miss Jungeun.”

“And why’s that?” Jungeun asked as she took a step towards you, closing the distance as she placed her hands on your shoulder.

“Who says I’m going to fuck you here? You’ve got a nice kitchen, a living room…”

Jungeun leaned in and planted a deep kiss on your lips, the taste of her lingering as she pulled back and you could see the lust in her eyes.

“You’re convincing me.”

“Then let me convince you a little more,” she said as she spun around on her heels and walked away from you, disappearing into the bathroom and shutting the door, leaving her out of sight. She didn’t spend much time inside, dramatically opening the door and came out in a luxurious white bathrobe as she appeared back in view.

“You should have a seat for this,” Jungeun said with a mischievous smile on her features as you did as instructed, taking a seat on her bed and feeling her silk sheets as you leaned back.

Jungeun made sure she had your full attention as she slowly began to untie the cotton belt around her waist, opening up as she draped it off her broad shoulders as it fell to the carpet underneath her.

The sight displayed in front of you was nothing but breathtaking, causing your jaw to drop as Jungeun’s perfect tight body was dressed in the sexiest pair of lacy red lingerie that left very little to the imagination.

“Red looks amazing on you.”

“It happens to be my favorite color,” Jungeun said, as your eyes feasted on her stunning body, unable, nothing could lose your focus. The dark red color contrasted perfectly with her milky skin. Her breasts were pushed up nicely, showing off her wide hips and delicious legs that never seemed to end.

“Are you just going to sit there and stare, or are you going to come touch me?”

That was the only invitation as you lifted your body off the mattress as your hands were practically magnetized to her body. You started at her thighs, feeling how soft they felt against your palms as you moved to her deadly hips, nothing but satisfied at how good they felt to grip.

You couldn’t help yourself one bit as you snaked around her waist and squeezed her ass with both hands, pulling her towards you and grabbing as much as you could, thankful for the fact that Jungeun loved to wear skimpy thongs. Your palms were full of her soft flesh as you kneaded them, giving her beautiful backside a loud slap that echoed and made her gasp.

“F-fuck,” Jungeun said, her words light and airy as you moved to the front of her body, up her toned midriff and up to her chest, squeezing her perky breasts through the annoying piece of fabric keeping you from them.

“Jungeun,” you said with a lowered voice as you tempted her with the idea of kiss, tilting your head as you licked her neck and whispered in her ear.

“I’m dying to fuck you.”

“P-please. You’re making me so wet,” she whimpered desperately as you buried yourself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the soft skin there with no intention to stop. Jungeun was giving herself to you in no time, letting out soft erotic moans as you nibbled on her beautiful neck.

“God, you’re so gorgeous.”

“T-thank you,” Jungeun replied as her cheeks blushed a shade of faded red as she anticipated what was next.

“Can I take this off?” you asked as you slipped a finger underneath one of her bra straps, as it practically screamed to be let loose.

“Y-yes, please take everything off me. I want you to see every inch of me.”

Her voice was just the ticket you needed as you found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it, keeping eye contact with Jungeun as you slipped the thin straps off her shoulders and tossed it out of view.

Your pants tightened as you saw Jungeun’s exposed breasts for the first time, small yet powerfully perky, not unlike Yerim. You gave several teasing licks on her nipples, causing a series of whiny moans to leave her lips as you focused on one breast, pinching the other as your lips slurped and nibbled freely.

“G-god, just fuck me already,” Jungeun begged, and it seemed she didn’t share your patience in wanting to take your time with her.

“You need it that bad?”

“Y-yes. I want you to ruin me,” she said as she looked at you doe-eyed, lips quivering as she wanted to give herself to you fully.

“I’ll be happy to then,” you said as you tilted her chin up and gave her lips one deep tender embrace, rubbing your hand across her soft cheek.

“Hold on, one more thing,” Jungeun said as scurred into her huge walk-in closet and disappeared inside it. She emerged after a few moments with something unseen in her hands as she came back into view.

Jungeun grabbed your wrist and flipped it around, dropping a bundle of red braided rope onto your palm as she shyly smiled.

“What do you expect me to do with this?” you asked, playing dumb as you felt the soft fabric of the rope.

“I want to be tied up and fucked. What else would you do with it?” she asked, biting her lip in anticipation.

“Only if you want to of course,” she added.

“I want to,” you said. You definitely wanted to. You had Heejin to mostly blame for unlocking this side out of you.

You stared into her eyes intently for one intense moment before abruptly grabbing her hips and spinning her around, admiring her naked back and her barely covered asscheeks. Jungeun’s breath hitched as you grabbed her delicate wrists and pulled them behind her back, wrapping them both in beautiful red rope as you bound them together tightly,

“Too tight?” you asked, resting a hand against her toned back and caressing her skin.

“Not at all,” she replied as you spun her back around as your eyes met, and you couldn’t help but smile that Jungeun was now at your mercy. You took advantage of this right away and roamed her body with your hands, squeezing her breasts and moving downward as you brought two fingers against her clothed heat, confirming the wetness of her cunt that was soaking through her panties.

“Safe word?” you asked as pressed two fingers against her clothed core as her legs twitched.

“Eclipse.”

“Good, then let’s get started,” you said as you helped her lower to her knees as she pressed into the carpet as you began undressing, scattering clothes around Jungeun’s body until you were left in your boxers. Your bulge poked through the material desperate to be freed, a stark reminder of the previous day

“Look what you did, Jungeun,” you said with a smirk on your lips, admiring her half-naked body as she was at your whims. Her skin grew warmer as she knelt patiently as you removed your underwear, slick dripping down her thighs and making the only piece of clothing left on even wetter.

Jungeun admired your cock with a hunger like no other as you grabbed it and slapped her pretty face with it, letting her suck your swollen tip for several seconds before removing it, causing a cute pout to form on her features.

“Don’t be greedy,” you said, caressing the side of her cheek and watching the need in her eyes.

You couldn’t help admire how pretty Jungeun was as you rubbed her soft lips with one finger, and without asking she instinctively sucked on your fingers sensually. She had a wanton need for anything inside her mouth as her lips and tongue wrapped around your fingers with the same amount of desire she had given to your cock.

Jungeun slurped hungrily on your fingers as you pushed them in deeper, moving past both knuckles and creating a slow rhythm as she gagged but her eyes begged for more as you felt her warm messy saliva seeping everywhere, making a mess everywhere.

You waited just a little longer, letting Jungeun continuously suckle on your fingers until you felt she had enough, wiping her leftover saliva down her neck and chest as you gave her stiffened rosy nipples one more pinch.

“That’s all you get for now,” you said as you helped her stand upright and lifted her frame onto the bed. Jungeun did what she could to assist as you positioned her on her knees with her ass raised as her face plopped down on the sheets, resting her chin on the mattress.

You took your position behind Jungeun’s bent over body, the thin piece of fabric nestled between her ass being the only barrier between you and nirvana. The flimsy piece of underwear was almost as dark as blood but did little to hide the wet spot soaking through, and it was hard to focus your eyes on a single part of her tight body, or the way her hands were tied behind her back.

Your hands explored Jungeun’s backside, her skimpy thong was a poor excuse to cover up any skin as you fondled her cheeks. You almost didn’t want to remove such a daring garment from her body, it looked too good on her. The thought occurred to push it to the side, giving you the best of both worlds but your animalistic urges took over instead as you grabbed the thin piece of fabric and tore it right off her body.

Jungeun gasped loudly as you tossed the ruined pair of underwear away, every inch of her body now exposed for you and all it took was one look down at her beautiful pink pussy to make your erection even stronger than you thought was possible.

Taking one more look down, Jungeun had already spread her legs for you as you grabbed your shaft and lined it with her entrance, rubbing her pink pussy lips with your swollen tip as you felt her wetness collecting on it.

“P-please, just fuck me, already. Use me!” Jungeun begged, which only motivated you to keep up the teasing, slipping yourself dangerously close to entering her and withdrawing at the last moment just to hear her whimpering moans.

“F-fuck, please!” Jungeun continued to plead, and you felt a hint of pity for her desperation and nudged yourself against her pussy, the heat radiating off her body begging you to enter her.

Just a few more seconds of teasing was all you could take - you needed her just as bad, and in one perfectly smooth movement you popped your hips and entered her, both of you overwhelmed by a hundred different sensations.

“Oh god,” Jungeun said as you moaned simultaneously, watching your tip being swallowed up by her suffocatingly tight pussy. You took a moment to let it all sink in before moving, the initial warmth and wetness surrounding your cock taking your breath away.

You didn’t remember how long you took, it could have been just a few seconds or several minutes to get used to the intense sensations as you started thrusting inside Jungeun, her silky warm flesh clinging tight as you grabbed her hips and found a rhythm, picking up speed gradually.

“F-fuck, your cock feels so good, stretch my pussy out, p-please ruin me!” Jungeun begged, her naked body at your mercy. There wasn’t much point in taking your time when both of you wanted the opposite, Jungeun’s intoxicating warmth enticing you to not keep your sluggish pace for long.

With a bruising grip on her satisfying hips, you no longer felt the need to be gentle with her and intensified your pace with every stroke, bottoming her out every time as her delicious cunt squeezed your throbbing shaft, keeping her pussy plenty filled.

The rhythm grew and grew as did the lust and desire in the room as your hips hurled against Jungeun’s ass, leaving the harsh sounds of flesh smacking against flesh that was music to your ears.

“P-pound me, f-fucking pound my pussy,” Jungeun said, her words now muffled into her pillows as your pistoning hips gave powerful thrusts as deep as you could fit your cock.

“I need to hear you, Jungeun. You’re so wet, you like being fucked like this?” you asked, grabbing a rough handful of golden hair and tangling it around your fingers, tugging back on it harshly to free her head from the comfort of her pillows.

“F-fuck yes, please keep using me!”

Her lustful words washed away any worries you were being too rough with her as you gripped a fistful of hair tighter, keeping her head upright as her pussy clenched in approval. Jungeun moaned even louder as your vigorous thrusts continued, her juices spilling out of her cunt so freely as the arousal was heavy in the air.

Jungeun’s moans turned into loud husky screams as you kept a handful of pretty hair clenched, pounding into her hole carelessly as you glanced down at her bound wrists and releasing one of your hands from her hips and without warning slapped her tight ass.

Her flesh rippled hypnotically, encouraging another slap to her behind on the other side as her walls pulsated in response.

“Harder, make it hurt,” Jungeun said, a mixture of demanding and begging and you weren’t going to back down as you winded back your arm and swung hard against her cheeks, the delicious echo of your palm striking her cheeks until the color began to match the restraints around her tied wrist.

Jungeun let out deep satisfied moans after each smack against her now tender flesh, the clench of her cunt matching the rhythm of your forceful strikes of her backside. The color of her cheeks grew darker and tears formed in her eyes from such pleasurable pain. WIth every few slaps you gave her sensitive red flesh a squeeze, rubbing out the sting until you upped the impact of flesh on flesh.

Your only regret was you were unable to see the satisfaction in Jungeun’s gorgeous eyes, but if the way her pussy was dripping all over your cock you knew she was loving every second of it.

Giving Jungeun’s bright red cheeks a break, you used your hands to explore what skin you had access to, running your hands up and down her back, feeling the sweat dripping off it as you fucked her mercilessly, the hard smack of the headboard slamming into the wall with every thrust.

“Does that feel good, Jungeun? Do you like being fucked like a little slut?”

“Y-yes, I love when you fuck me like a toy, please don’t stop,” Jungeun said with strangled words, too lost in the pleasure to think of anything else.

You released the grip on her hair, letting strands fall to her shoulders that stuck to her sweaty back as you prepared for your next step, grabbing her hips and pushing her down until she was flat on her stomach and her knees pressed into the sheets.

Your thrusts came fast and loose as your legs were spread onto either side of Jungeun's body as you fucked her senseless in this position, able to achieve a deeper sense of penetration that drove you crazy.

It didn't take long to become unhinged, your pace wild and reckless as you held on to the sides of her ass for leverage, slamming repeatedly without any concern as the room filled up with her needy moans.

"Oh my god, you're so deep! Fuck me just like this, please fuck me just this, oh fuck, oh fuck!"

Jungeun's cries threw gasoline on the flames of passion as you used more power in your hips, and you were content to make sure she couldn't walk for a week as you railed her into the mattress.

You swore the bed was about to give out, and you didn't give a damn and only focused on the hot dripping flesh you were spearing yourself into.

"You fuck me so well, holy shit! I'm so close!"

“Good, cum for me you greedy slut. Cum all over this fucking cock,” you said, as sweat drenched your forehead, the air in the room growing harder to take in. Jungeun could barely remember where she was, her mouth constantly agape as drool spilled out of her lips, moaning breathlessly as the fire in her abdomen grew and grew.

“Ah! I-I’m cumming!” Jungeun said, barely able to form words at this point, powerless to do anything else. Her pussy pulsated uncontrollably around your shaft as you kept the same relentless pace as she creamed all over you, the warm flood of juices spilling onto your crotch as she came hard, toes curling behind you and her thighs visibly shaking.

Jungeun let out a slew of profanities as her orgasm hit her like a train, and you didn’t let up one second and fucked her through every intense second, the loss of her limbs to grab hold of anything drove her insane as her labored breathing filled your eardrums, every moment of pleasure almost causing her to black out.

“H-holy shit,” Jungeun managed to say as her high gradually faded, the aftershocks in her body firing off every so often that she could hardly catch a breath, her thighs flushed and stained with slick, overflowing on her silk sheets underneath your sweaty bodies.

Jungeun’s wonderful orgasm came to a close, and now it was your turn as you grabbed her bound wrists and held them tight, steering yourself towards your much needed bliss as you gave it your all. Her pussy was so deliciously wet after her climax, lubricating your harsh movements inside her thoroughly fucked cunt and sending spikes of pleasure everywhere throughout your body.

You gave her the final pounding she deserved, her pussy stuffed with every inch of hard flesh as you moved furiously inside her, wringing out all the pleasure out of her body that you could take until you felt that familiar and welcome tightness in your core that signaled the end.

“Jungeun, I’m about to fucking cum,” you growled, endlessly fucking into her warm hole to coerce your orgasm on a path to pleasure with no brakes.

“Cum wherever, on me or in me, please just cum for me,” Jungeun said, and you took no time to figure out just where you wanted to do that.

Savoring the final moments, you gave a few more hammering thrusts into Jungeun’s body before you withdrew from her warmth, pulling her up and helping her off to the side of the bed as she took position on her knees, her arms still tied behind her as she anxiously awaited the finale.

You had Jungeun just where you wanted her as she had the biggest grin on her features as you stroked your cock from base to tip, and she knew just where your load was going and licked her lips.

“Are you going to paint my face?” she asked, already knowing the answer as you stroked furiously in response, planning on using her as your canvas.

“Give me your cum, please cum on my face, please. Cover me in your thick load, please please please, cum all over my face, I need it so fucking bad,” Jungeun desperately begged, her needy words being the one last thing that set you off.

It took less than a few strokes for you to erupt as you unloaded all over Jungeun’s gorgeous face. You let out loud satisfied groans and fired your first thick shot of cum that landed on her forehead, ending up in her disheveled hair.

You emptied your balls all over her cheeks, her full lips, her cute nose and chin as you squeezed out every last drop, not letting anything go to waste as her face was covered in pearly white, the look of satisfaction in her eyes as you were drained.

Jungeun licked what she could, frustrated with her hands still tied up and out of commission as the mess you had just deposited on her stunning face began to drip down slowly, spilling off her chin and onto her chest as you collected yourself and tried to regain your breath.

She had never looked more beautiful.

Jungeun leaned forward as you guided your cock one more time into her mouth as she cleaned you off, gently sucking your sensitive tip dry with your load staining her face. You took one more moment to admire your handiwork before untying her wrists.

“You okay?” you asked as she regained the use of her hands, the first thing she did with them was to stroke your softening cock, giving one more wet kiss.

“I’m great now,” she said, heavily breathing as you exchanged tired smiles.

“You really covered me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a huge load,” Jungeun giggled as you sat on the edge of the bed, nearly collapsing on it.

“I only have you to blame for that,” you said.

“I’ll go get cleaned up. You can join me if you want, or you can rest here. Either way you better be ready for another round,” she said, slow to stand upright as she turned into her now ever familiar pose, her hands on her hips with a stern look in her eyes.

“You’re insatiable, Jungeun,” you said, still struggling to find your breath again.

“N-no, I’m not. It’s not like I enjoyed your cock inside me,” she scoffed, spinning on her heels as she disappeared into her bathroom.

You still felt the tingles of your intense climax as you looked around the room, sinking into the sheets and wondered what else she Jungeun wanted, or rather what she wanted you to do to her.

You’d just have to be patient and find out.

#loona smut #kim lip smut #loona #kim lip #reader insert #kpop smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kim jungeun #kimberly lippington

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the-dreamer-traveller · 4 years ago

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NSM (New Sound Music)

I must have been landed in an alternate universe of the game No Straight Roads, because the entire plot of the dream bears too much resemblance to the game that I must have been in it.

Taking place in a highly futuristic version of London city, taking possible around several decades from the present and into the future. London is the seated location of NSM (New Sound Music Inc.), a megacorp that is described as incorporating elements of NSR (from No Straight Roads) and with strong cyberpunk elements, essentially making NSM the NSR in this futuristic of London. The city is built with a mixture of modern architecture with cyberpunk aesthetics, and many of the roofs in the buildings are in dark color such as dark burgundy.

NSM is composed of six EMD megastars, just like its main and canonical counterpart. Because the dream doesn’t go into detail of who these people are, I’m giving them names for the convenience.

AKIRA (or 明) is a singing android whose overall appearance is basically a tacky Oiran. She wears a bright red kimono top in a furisode-style, but the lower section of her dress is a giant, frilly one like a ballgown, in which it is bright red in color. She also has an exquisite headdress, with blue and red flowers and golden pins over her black bobbed hair. She is literally white skinned, as she is an android. Her representative music genre is assumed to be traditional Japanese folk music with soft-sounding EDM.

Xavis is a NSM megastar who looks like a bad guy-like, futuristic megacorp soldier or secret police officer, his design bears greet resemblance to many of them in various cyberpunk works. It consists with a helmet with futuristic combat lenses that leaves the lower half of his face exposed, making him look cold. He also wears a black futuristic armored suit with blue futuristic lines and pieces of hard metallic guards in his outfit such as shoulder pads, knee pads and hip pads. Because of his appearance, I think of him as represented by harder and aggressive types of EDM, like dubstep.

UNION is a five-person band, which consists of three men and two women. They are dressed in mainly black and red suits and plants, they resemble like matadors or bullfighters, down to looking like them. Despite this, they function as some sort of a hybrid band-styles like American boy bands and Korean pop bands, due to their incredibly flamboyant poses in promotional images. It is easy for me to think of them as taking the styles and inspirations of both sides.

Sonya Alice reminds me of SAYU, a virtual idol. In this case, Sonya Alice seems to be a vTuber with J-Pop and K-Pop elements, though it can be an educational guess of her being a vTuber. She wears a black and red outfit, which is a jacket, buttoned seifuku, plaited skirt, knee length socks and shoes along with a sling bag, headphones, a ribbon head accessory and earrings. As such of her inspiration, her music genre covers pop music, with touches of EDM such as anything that has -core in it.

Snow White is a megastar child prodigy, not like YINU. Just like YINU, White wears a black and red outfit, just like her fellow megastars UNION and Sonya Alice, which consists of a swallowtail suit, red undershirt, slacks and formal shoes. Very unusually, her hair is also styled like a bundle of rose just like YINU, which would make her like a parallel universe version of YINU herself. Her genre, unsurprisingly, would be guessed to be neoclassical, or artcore in the real world, and I wouldn’t mind if she turns out to be Deemo incarnate.

The main head of NSM is… DJ Subatomic Supernova??? I was honestly surprised to see that he is the CEO of NSM. He is visually unchanged and so is his music.

All of these NSM megastars are seen in various posters and promotional images of London, even when I am having what appears to be browsing on a computer. NSM has complete control of the city, and most of its superstars are even champions in battle.

Speaking of battle…

o----------------------------------------------------------------------o

BATTLE:

This dream does not lie that majority of the NSM megastars are capable of combat.

Taking place in a battlefield of an unknown location, AKIRA and Xavis are fighting against waves of invading forces that are trying to dismantle the system set upon by NSM, and is pretty much represented by robots, creatures and humanoids. Leading a group of black armored futuristic soldiers with neon blue Tron-lines, AKIRA and Xavis lead their troops into combat. AKIRA wields a ridiculously sharp katana that can slice anything in one hit. Xavis doesn’t seem to fight and is more of leading and teamworking with a personal squad of his own, with rifles and shields ready.

The enemies are mostly robots, tin-can variants, along with some other versions such as a pendulum-shaped robot and miniature ships. They are based in and contain various sounds of other music genres, such as EDM, Jazz, Country, Rock and Pop, so it is like the plot of No Straight Roads, but with the alternate-universe NSR named NSM as the main protagonists. They emit soundwaves that can “disrupt the harmonical heartwaves”, or something like that, and are to be disposed off as soon as possible. Every time one of these musical assassin robots get defeated, they will fling off and explode, with a short sound of their representative music genre being emitted for a final time.

So far, AKIRA gets a lot of action, running through the battlefield and slicing up invading robots, which causes me to hear some sounds from Jazz and Country. Meanwhile, Xavis orders his troops to split and scatter around, pointing to various robots that were in his sight.

o----------------------------------------------------------------------o

NON-BATTLE:

When they are not fighting, the NSM megastars would do their own musical business, but there is an interesting occasion when they aren’t making their own music, holding concerts or getting into fights.

Somewhere in one of the many lakes of this version of London, in a much farther part of the outskirts where there are still nature around it, the megastars of NSM are in a large island in a lake, which is shielded by mountains. The ones present are Sonya Alice, UNION, Xavis and DJSS, where the rest of the superstars are unknown for this dream.

I get to hear some of their conversation. Apparently, they are planning to create another arena in this island, transforming it into another futuristic arena, which is in reminiscent of the Coliseum-like design, amphitheater and containing a giant water sphere floating in the center. This level of dedication of creating an artistic building surprises me, especially since I haven’t heard of giant water sphere stadium since 2001. Perhaps they are trying to top it all out with their music, grand performances and artistic porn (obscenely detailed and ornate background, performance, art performance, etc.)?

#dream #dream journal #no straight roads #fanfiction

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smartwatchpk2021 · 3 years ago

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Making Smartwatches As Well known As Smartphones

While the smartwatches in the market today are really nice and revolutionary, the sales of these Smratwatches are still slowly building up. It is expected that about 1.2 million smartwatches will ship this year, a paltry number compared to the estimated 1.5 billion smart phone users in the world. What could be the reason for this? It is likely that the current smartwatches do not have the critical components or features that will make them a runaway success.

Euromonitor's head of consumer electronics, Loo Wee Teck, commented current smartwatches are just not that great a customer proposition yet.

"Smartwatches try to replicate the smartphone experience on a minuscule wrist-sized screen, which translates to inferior usability or otherwise seek to complement and extend the functionality of smartphone onto a smaller screen"

So what will make the perfect smartwatch?

I have condensed it down to five components that need to be addressed before we can see this class of wearable electronics take off. These five components are design, functionality and reliability, apps, power consumption and battery life and lastly, durability. Why do I think that these are important? Well let's look at them one by one.

Design

The design of the smartwatch can be split into three separate parts, namely the watch body, the watch face and finally the wrist strap.

The first thing that people look at would likely be the watch body. Is it too bulky, does it look cool and fashionable? The ideal body should be suitable for both casual and formal wear. For example, the Pebble with its nice clean sporty look would blend well sports attire but might look a bit out of place when worn with a suit and tie. The newer contenders like the AGENT or Vachen however, could be worn with normal casual attire or formal wear.

The watch bodies should be at a reasonable size as well. The size of the dive computers made by Suunto are a pretty decent size without being unwieldy. They can be worn like a normal wrist watch and most divers do that.

Most guys do not mind larger watches but some ladies do. Should there be two watch sizes? Perhaps this would be a good solution, after all, we have had watch sizes for men and women all this while. However, add too much bulk to the watch and it becomes one chunky thing on the wrist that appeals to no one. The difference in watch size could mean that more goodies can be crammed into it. A larger batter would be the most welcomed and perhaps some sensors as well?

Of course the watch body should match the watch face it is displaying. The watch face, like the body, should be able to match different dressing needs as well. This is easier as the watch face can be changed with the press of a button. So this is something that the watch makers or third party developers will need to take note of. While the watch body can have a general design that fits most dressing needs, the watch face should match a particular theme. A formal classy watch face for more formal occasions to large sporty display for sporting needs, there should be enough watch faces to appeal to different users and their needs.

Pebble made this possible by releasing an SDK for third party developers to create their own watch faces. This has lead to a huge library of watch faces for the Pebble. Vachen took a different approach. They develop their own watch faces but promise over 100 watch faces available upon the launch of the Vachen watch.

Last but not least, the watch strap. Just like the two other parts mentioned, the watch strap should be able fit most dressing situations and there are two possible ways to do this. The first way would be similar to the design fundamentals of the watch body such that the watch strap would look good whether it is worn with casual or more formal wear. A good example of this design method would be the watch straps of the Agent watch. It features an accent-stitched watch strap that looks chic enough for normal wear but the stitching adds that extra bit of class that makes it blend with formal wear as well.

A second option would be for the strap to be easily replaceable. While the Pebble and Agent use standard 22mm watch straps that are easily changed with a small screw driver, this might still be a bit too troublesome for some, especially if you change straps often or are in a rush. The Sony SmartWatch and Motorola MotoActv offer an interesting alternative. The watch body contains a spring-loaded clip which is used to clip onto the watch strap, allowing for really quick changes. The only downside of this method is that the clip adds quite a bit of thickness to the body.

Which is a better method? Personally, I think a mix of both. The strap should be able to fit most situations but also allow users to change the straps as they like. Using 22mm straps is a good idea as they are ubiquitous and are available in many designs and materials.

Functionality and reliability

Other than just simply looking good, a successful smartwatch should be able to carry out its duties as a smartwatch as well.

Firstly, what should the screen be? A touchscreen, normal LCD or e-ink display? Each option has its own benefits and disadvantages and affects several key considerations of a smartwatch, like design, functionality and power consumption. For starters, does a touch screen make sense for a smartwatch? Would one be able to use the watch without being frustrated with jabbing at such a small screen? A small screen would also mean that you cannot display a lot of information. Apple seemed to have tested this by releasing a touch-capable iPod nano, which many turned into a watch. But the iPod nano is still an iPod, can it do what we require of a smartwatch? Perhaps Apple has learned some interesting insights into wearable teachnology with the iPod nano "experiment"?

Having said that, I think that a touchscreen would definitely add to the usability of the watch compared to pressing buttons to scroll and select (that's so 1990s right?). Besides, with touch screen smart phones being so ubiquitous now, this might be something that people expect. However, this increase in usability is balanced off by an increase in power consumption. While it is great to have touch functions, it wouldn't be so great if your watch needs charging every couple of hours.

When designing a new gadget, it is always tempting to make it do more and more, adding function after function to it. But as Apple has shown, sometimes more can be less. Will adding a feature or function add to the value of the watch or take something away? For example, adding a microphone to your smartwatch to allow hands-free (well sort of) calling from your watch would mean that the watch would not be as waterproof as one without a mic. Similarly, adding the clip to the back of the watch allows convenience at the cost of adding thickness. Which is a better choice? There will always be compromises that need to be made and everything is a balancing act. Successful products will be able to pick the features that people want and take away those that only add fluff. If no one wants to talk through the watch, why add it in?

Notifications are a critical component of the smartwatch value proposition. For a start, they must be reliable and pushed to the user as required. If notifications are regularly missing, the user will not trust the watch and thus be required to continue checking their phones, defeating the purpose of the watch. Moreover, notifications must be informative and accessible. Enough information must be available on the watch face without being too cluttered. One issue about the Pebble is that it only shows the latest notification, which reduces the usability of the device.

Lastly, reliability is another important piece of the puzzle. Given that smartwatches contain mini-computers running an operating system, they too can crash or freeze up in the same way our computers do. For smart phones like the iPhone, plugging the device into a computer and syncing with iTunes usually solves the problem. But since smartwatches are unable to do the same, ie sync directly with a computer through a hardware connection, it should have a way of self rebooting to restore functionality or, at the very least, get basic functions like the watch face and Bluetooth running. Imagine if you bricked your watch and cannot get it to restart as. read more

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hidetheteaspoons · 5 years ago

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Secret Moments (In a Crowded Room) - Newtina

For @katisfania for the 2019 Newtina Gift Exchange! Apologies for the late post! This fic is based in part on Katy’s artwork found here. Happy New Year, Katy!

Newt and Tina have kept their relationship private for months following the events of Paris. When an invitation to a Ministry ball arrives, Newt must decide whether or not to share with the world that Tina is his one and only. Lots of pining, fluff, and kissing.

Our secret moments in a crowded room They've got no idea about me and you

Newt and Tina had been inseparable for over three months. In the days and weeks following the tragedy at Père Lachaise, they, along with the rest of their group, had been broken beyond repair. Tina had graciously accepted a spare bedroom in Newt's London flat, while Jacob remained with Theseus. Yusef Kama and the young Maledictus, Nagini, had taken up temporary residence in Paris with Nicolas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle. Everyone had someone; no one was left alone in their grief.

Their initial weeks together in Newt's humble, but comfortable apartment had been torture for both of them. Tina spent quite a bit of time crying behind closed doors. When she did come out of her room, her eyes were red and her skin was pale. For the better part of a week, neither of them had an appetite. Meals were spent sitting at the table in silence, alternating stolen glances, and pushing food around their plates. Newt was perceptive enough to understand that if Tina wanted to talk to him, she would do so on her own terms, when she was ready. After everything they had been through together, Newt considered himself lucky to be in her presence. That was more than enough for him, for the time being.

Slowly, as the weeks dragged on, and everything seemed...slightly less horrible, Tina opened herself up to Newt. They cried together, went for walks together, and took care of his creatures together. Every waking moment was spent in each other’s presence, and neither of them would have things any other way. It was only a matter of time before their true feelings were revealed to each other and their relationship began. Newt was amazed that despite all the trials they faced, from the ashes, something wonderful grew between them. Things escalated rather quickly and the couple spent as much time as they could together, under the assumption that life was unpredictable and any moment could tear them apart. They wasted no time, but also kept their relationship to themselves, for now.

Tina had received a permit from MACUSA to remain and work in London and consult with Theseus’ team at the Ministry. Tina reported directly to Theseus regarding all matters directly tied to Grindelwald, Queenie, and Credence. By mid-December, there had been no new information. Tina threw herself into her work. Between searching for answers and spending time with Newt, she had little time to think of that September day when her life had changed for the worse.

One night just before the holidays, she pushed open the front door to Newt’s flat and shivered, letting the deep winter chill melt away from her clothes and her body. With a flick of her wand, her Auror coat flew to dry by the roaring fire in Newt’s cozy living room. Tina smiled when she saw the Niffler sniffing about in the hallway; the creature stopped and looked up to her, quickly scampering toward her in an excited greeting. “Hello you,” she cooed, taking the creature into her arms. “Where’s your mummy, hmm?”

Newt smiled warmly from the kitchen doorway, gazing at Tina with nothing but affection and admiration. He was reminded of the morning after Père Lachaise, when he and his companions had gathered at the fountain and Tina had so lovingly cradled the injured creature in her arms, as she would a small child.

Newt cleared his throat gently so as not to startle Tina, “I believe I was summoned?”

She smiled instantly when she heard his voice and approached him before placing a small peck on his cheek in greeting. She felt herself glowing from the inside out and reached a hand to her lips, where his warm skin had left a pleasant sensation.

Up until this point, Newt and Tina’s relationship had been less physical and more emotional. Though their relationship progressed quickly, they had explored other aspects on their own terms. Newt relished the feeling of Tina’s hand in his when they apparated to the Ministry together. Sometimes, they held on for just a bit longer than necessary. Tina would always greet Newt with a kiss on the cheek and he would affectionately push her hair away from her face, just as he’d done at the docks in New York. Yes, the physical aspect of their relationship was progressing nicely, but at times, they both wondered what it would be like to start something more; this was made difficult by the secrecy of their relationship. Their displays of affection were always private, and rarely public, so neither Jacob, Theseus, nor anyone else at the Ministry was aware of the true nature of their relationship.

“Hello there,” Tina greeted, placing the Niffler into Newt’s outstretched arms. “This fella was here to greet me when I got home.”

Home. Newt and Tina had been occupying the same space for weeks and yet he still shivered slightly whenever she referred to his flat as ‘home’. He’d never get tired of hearing that word on her lips.

“So I see…” he smirked, ushering the furry creature down the stairs toward his basement menagerie.

Tina noticed a gleam in Newt’s eyes that indicated that mischief was afoot. She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at him, tapping her foot impatiently. “Alright, Mister Scamander, out with it,” Newt felt a ripple of pleasure work its way down his spine when she addressed him by his surname in that commanding tone of voice.

Newt smiled shyly and threw his hands up, feigning innocence. Tina knew better. “I haven’t the foggiest-”

“Don’t you ‘I haven’t the foggiest’ me, you know exactly what I’m talking about. What are you not telling me?” She demanded to know, taking a step closer.

Newt sighed and pulled a rolled up piece of parchment from his pocket, “We’ve received an invitation,” he informed her.

“Mercy Lewis, an invitation to what?”

“Read it,” he implored, handing the parchment to her.

Tina murmured quietly as she read the invitation aloud, “Mr. Newton Artemis Fido (she quirked an eyebrow at him as she read his full name...they’d talk about that later) Scamander and Miss Porpentina Esther Goldstein...presence requested...formal attire...a New Year’s ball?!”

Newt simply nodded as Tina rolled the parchment and handed it back to him. “So the ministry is throwing a party and we’re all required to attend, is this what I’m gathering?”

He once again nodded in affirmation.

“Does this happen frequently?” Tina asked, referring to the invitation.

“More often than I’d like,” Newt responded through gritted teeth.

“I suppose I’ll need to find a dress for this occasion then…”

Briefly lost in the image of Tina in a glimmering ball gown, Newt simply smiled and nodded in response.

She once again narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head, laughing gently. “Come on Mister Scamander. Let’s see if we can scrounge up some dinner, shall we?”

***

The days followed quickly and the holidays passed in the blink of an eye. Newt and Tina secretly couldn’t wait for the last day of the year, as this would be their first official public event together. Though, for the sake of convenience, the couple had agreed to keep their interactions to a minimum so as not to arouse the suspicion of their coworkers and friends.

The night of the event, Newt dressed at Theseus’ house so that Tina could get ready and arrive on her own. With assistance from Jacob and his older brother, Newt dressed in a slim-fitting tuxedo and slicked back his unruly auburn locks. While giving his appearance a once-over in the mirror, Theseus came up behind Newt and clapped his hands down onto Newt’s shoulders. “She’s gonna love it mate,” Theseus said with a wink.

Newt turned to his brother, “What do you mean she…?”

“Don’t overthink it Newt, just trust me.”

Newt shook his head and the brothers turned to Jacob. “Alright youse guys, have lots of fun okay? I’ll just be sittin’ here, by myself, not enjoyin’ the festivities or nothin’.”

Newt matter-of-factly addressed their friend: “Jacob, did you really think you weren’t invited?”

The No-Maj nodded.

“You’re our guest Jacob, of course you’re invited,” Theseus chimed in. With that, the Scamander brothers outfitted their friend in a finely-tailored suit and the three men apparated to the Ministry.

***

At the same time, Tina was seated in her room at Newt’s apartment, wishing that Queenie was there to help her get ready. She wiped the tears from her eyes and took a deep breath. With a wordless spell, she charmed the dress hanging before her to make its way over her head and down her lean body. Once the dress was in place, she tied the back, smoothed it out, and applied the finishing touches: a hairpiece, rouge, and dark lipstick. When she was finally pleased with her appearance, Tina apparated away, eagerly anticipating the moment when she would see her beau.

Tina gasped as she entered the Ministry, which had been transfigured into a stunning ballroom filled with chandeliers, candles, and beautifully dressed witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes. The Auror took in the sights, the sounds, and the smells as she sauntered through the crowd, in search of one man in particular. She smiled when she saw him from a distance. He was turned away from her, but she could clearly make out the forms of the older Scamander brother and Jacob facing her direction. When Jacob’s eyes settled on Tina, his jaw dropped open in surprise, while Theseus jabbed him in the ribs.

Tina approached the group of men and made her presence known to Newt by clearing her throat. “Evening gentlemen,” she paused, smiling affectionately at the three men in front of her.

It felt like an eternity before Newt finally turned around to face her. The look on his face was worth every galleon she’d spent on the dress...and more. The magizoologist looked at her with stunned silence while his companions greeted Tina and slowly moved away from the couple. Newt was nursing a glass of red wine but nearly dropped it upon seeing the love of his life. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and whisk her away from this place, away from the prying eyes of the other men in the room.

Newt would be lying if he said he hadn’t looked Tina up and down, but look at her he did. He worked his way from her hair, which was neatly coiffed with a red headband that matched her dress. Her eyes were dark and smoky and her lips were stained the darkest of reds; she was vixen-like. He then fully appreciated the dress she wore. It was fiery crimson in color and tied around her neck. Newt couldn’t believe that a simple set of strings was the only thing holding the dress to her long, lean body. It clung in all the right places, accentuating her breasts, her hips, and her exquisite legs. The dress fell low, low, low on her back and drew his attention to other parts of her anatomy that he’d not yet had the pleasure of being introduced to. Finally, the slinky number draped to the floor and skimmed over a pair of matching T-strap heels that only made Tina’s legs appear longer and more elegant. She was a masterpiece.

The Auror blushed profusely and her gaze fell to the floor in anticipation of Newt’s reaction. For a brief moment, she felt self-conscious, unsure if she should have taken things this far. After all, they’d been building up to more intense interactions, but never anything like this. Her head snapped back up when she heard Newt clear his throat several times before he could articulate his thoughts. “Tina you...you look...I can’t…bugger…”. Upon realizing what he’d said, Newt quickly covered his tracks so as to avoid trouble. “No Tina, that wasn’t directed at you...it was me...I...Merlin, Tina, you look stunning.”

Tina stepped closer, boldly placing a hand on his chest and placing a gentle kiss on his cheek in greeting. She whispered in his ear as she did so, her breath warm against his skin, “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Upon pulling away from him, Tina noted the lopsided grin and the pink blush that overtook his cheeks, causing his freckles to pop more than usual. Tina turned to walk away, but Newt quickly grabbed her hand and whispered to her, “I know we agreed to minimal public interactions tonight, but I’m not sure I’m going to be able to keep my hands off of you so long as you’re near me.”

“Shall we put that theory to the test Mister Scamander?” Tina asked coyly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Well, I suppose I could just -”. Tina was cut off by an unexpected voice from behind her.

“‘Scuse me, Miss Tina. I was wondering if I might be able to ask you for a dance?” A polished young man from the Auror department requested.

‘There was music playing? Bloody hell’, thought Newt. He had been so focused on Tina and her grand entrance, that he hadn’t even noticed the dancing that was taking place. Tina looked to Newt, eyes wide and questioning, waiting for him to make his move. Did he take charge and claim his lover? Or did he let the night slip away from them, with her in the arms of another man?

Newt broke eye contact with Tina and turned toward the gentleman. “I apologize, but Miss Goldstein is otherwise occupied this evening,” he stated matter-of-factly, as he gently slid his arm around her waist possessively, making sure to avoid contact with her bare skin. He firmly grasped her opposite hip and pulled her closer to him. Tina stared at him in awed surprise.

“So sorry Mister Scamander, I didn’t know,” the young man apologized, taking a step back from the couple.

“That’s quite alright...neither did I,” he responded as he turned to look at his love.

The young man faded back into the crowd without a second thought from Tina and Newt.

“Newt,” Tina whispered, “What about…”

“Shhh,” Newt responded, cutting her off. He moved a step closer, his arm still around her waist. His opposite hand reached up to gently cup her cheek. “I don’t want to hide anymore Tina. You’re not a prize to be won, but Merlin’s beard, I want to be the only man that gets the pleasure of dancing with you tonight. Especially when you look like...this…”

Tina smiled, and whispered back, “I don’t want to hide either...you’re the only one whose arms I want to be in tonight. Especially when you look like this…” she giggled, reaching up to run a hand over his gelled hair.

With that, Newt placed a hand on her lower back and guided her to the dance floor. Tina stood up straight and shivered when she felt his warm hand pressed against her bare skin. Other parts of her became keenly aware of the contact between them. Just like that, they danced, drank, and laughed the night away together, without a care in the world.

The end of the evening quickly approached and the countdown began. Just before all the muggle church bells clanged at midnight to usher in the new year, Tina led Newt to a quiet corner and apparated them to the front porch of Newt’s flat.

“Home,” she whispered as the bells sounded their last note, cheers of happy people rang out in the distance, and colorful lights filled the sky. There, in front of the space they shared, the couple had their very first (and certainly not their last) kiss. Newt leaned in and pecked Tina gently on the lips and pulled away to gauge her reaction. Tina’s eyes had grown dark and wanting as her arms wound their way around Newt’s neck and she pulled him back in for a longer, more passionate kiss.

Newt responded in kind and followed her lead. Ever the gentleman, he stopped and started again when she did. This went on for quite some time before Tina broke away breathlessly and murmured, “That was…”

Newt smiled and responded, “Wasn’t it?”, recalling a similar moment that had occurred not so long ago.

Tina laughed gently and leaned her forehead against his, letting her eyes fall closed. She felt the vibration in his chest as he spoke in a low rumble, “Happy New Year, my love.”

She kissed him gently and smiled as she did. As she pulled away, she responded, “Happy New Year, Newt.” He kissed her forehead in response.

“Now for the love of Mercy, will you PLEASE get me out of this dress, Mister Scamander?”

“I think that can be arranged, Miss Goldstein,” Newt said with a smile.

With that, he scooped her up, dress and all. He carried her to his bed, where they spent the rest of the evening getting lost in each other in the best possible way.

Say my name and everything just stops I don't want you like a best friend Only bought this dress so you could take it off

*NSFW sequel is a strong possibility? Let me know your thoughts!*

#2019 newtina gift exchange #newtina fanfiction #newtina fluff #newtina #newt scamander #tina goldstein #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #post-cog #katisfania

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gyromitra-esculenta · 4 years ago

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Even If the Waters Rise 1/3

Talked myself into Mermay. But it’s Shadowrun based mermay with (something that resembles) plot. Mermaids are now metahuman, and, boy, do I have the issues with Sea Dragon’s design. It got 6k words on the first chapter.

Also, warnings for the whole planned thing: blood, gore, and violence; cannibalism (human on metahuman); questionable jokes and questionable totem choices; ambiguous relationships; referenced limb loss/cybernetics/etc; mating cycles.

(...)

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure up and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

He does. Looking with the usual neutral expression when Jack gulps for the air, the lingering vague memory of drowning but not sinking while something gorges itself on his flesh with little bites tearing him apart fading slowly.

(...)

Coming off the sedation after being cut was always a mixed bag. This time, though, the bustle of the street outside filters in slowly, rising like a wave over the ocean of static and breaking when the stims start doing their job.

The first breath is always the hardest, some kink in the lungs that kicks them into filtration mode each time the loss of consciousness occurs and demands focus from Jack to consciously switch back into the atmospheric intake.

"With us again?"

"You tell me, you're in my brain."

"Being obstinate will net you no points," Sombra mentally scoffs. "The pain?"

"No worse than usual."

"Arms up. Good, neural's working with no lag. And thank you very much for that kick, the legs are doing fine too."

"All?" Jack looks over the utilitarian metal surfaces of his limbs, the make and the model different from anything else he has seen on the market.

"Now, yeah," Sombra winces, pulling the plug out. She doesn’t need it but had told him once there were times she felt safer working with one. "For final calibrations, I need more data, so let's slap synthskin on those."

"What are they, anyway?"

"Scrubbed milspec, last year's model, or so I'd been told."

Sombra directs the assistant. Each applied sheet of layered synthskin gives Jack a lurch of unpleasant sensations before settling into annoyance, tension, and oversensitivity. A dance he's familiar with - a day or two before the brain puts a dampener on the sensory input when it integrates properly.

"I know why you're doing this for free, but why is he spending so much on this?"

Sombra flinches.

"The last batch you got rid of was worth more than those."

"It won't stop the demand, only the price of the meat went up."

"And the ability to process it for consumption went down. You know what's my take on it," she signs something on her pad. "Anyway, have fun tonight. I'll get in touch with you tomorrow to finish the calibrations."

"Not seeing much of a difference now," Jack pulls on his clothes, mindful of the temporary sleeves making sure the skin stays in place. "Tell me I won’t control and crush anyone."

"Implemented mental blocks. No limiters, so they can over-perform and get bricked, too."

"Taking bets on when I brick them?"

"Honestly!" Sombra throws the pad at him and Jack deflects it into the wall - looking back to her with a sheepish grin as it falls to the ground. "Too slow. Also, I don't want to see you in the professional capacity for at least half a year, but I'm giving you a month."

"Not very generous, and you're making me think you don't like it in my head."

"I don't, it's a jumble there since..." She stops herself, glaring daggers at the assistant who, granted with the rare ability to read the room, makes himself scarce - finding something urgent to do in the back.

"Since the glorified accident at work I don't even remember, seriously, five years, it's enough to stop treating me like I'm going to break about it." Jack pulls up the hood. Sombra's thinking about something, her brows drawn together in a worried frown.

"Aren't you curious?"

"Not really. Nightmares are a clue enough that something took out a lot of bites, and really, can't blame them, can I?"

"That's enough." She sends him a slightly nauseated look. "Scram now, have fun."

"Do you think he will tell me where he got milspec from?"

"He didn't tell me, so he's not going to tell you."

"But you've got an inkling how he got it."

"Maybe." She waves him off and Jack rolls his eyes, shrugging. Needling her for information has never worked before, anyway, and probably never will.

"See you when I wreck those."

"Fuck off!"

In less than an hour, there will be no trace left of her inside - and of Jack himself - the room is already being stripped down as he makes his way out of the basement up the concrete stairs with walls covered with dangerous amounts of mildew. Pushing past a corner stall encroaching on the doorway, he picks up a wrapped piece of barely seared meat waiting for him and waves his bracelet at the chit reader.

The air is wet and salty, like waves on the harbor, not even the smells of the market drown it out. The corners of his lips curl up at the thought tomorrow, or the day after, he'll be back out there, out on the sea, taking a dive into its depths, water everywhere, below and above, invisible current carrying him on its whims. Jack hails down the cab, the smile still on his face.

It remains there even twenty minutes later as he gets off by the hotel, both far too expensive and far too cheap at the same time. Too expensive for his own tastes, too cheap for Gabe to rent a room in it. Alas, here they are - and he sends a quick text.

'I'm coming up.'

Almost to the top, feeling vaguely claustrophobic in the humming elevator thankfully bereft of the usual muzak (apparently some taste did come with the money, but not enough for the interior to keep consistent style), he gets the customary message back. 'Open.'

Jack lets out the breath he's been inadvertently holding in when the doors open and he's left in the corridor, looking for the right entrance. A suite, of course, worth a chuckle as he walks inside, the only source of light the city's glow coming in through the windows.

And Gabriel, of course - again - standing with his back to the window, the only discernible features of his in the dim the almost glowing red irises and the white markings creating a vague outline of some animal face. Dramatic asshole, as usual.

"Show me."

The tone of authority and ownership demanding obedience - the order itself - coming from anyone else but the man who one way or another did own everything that made him, would have Jack snarling and pouncing whoever dared to speak to him like that. Hearing it from Gabe, though...

"Not even 'hi, how are you' or 'greetings, mortal'?"

Jack rolls his eyes, stripping down completely out of his clothes, leaving them lying on the plush carpet as Gabriel comes closer. Always smelling faintly of the deep ocean, or rather, of how Jack would imagine it to smell if it did.

Fingers dig around the edges of the sleeves on his shoulders, feeling the joints underneath, moving down to repeat the same around his hips. Synthskin sends confusing signals, not quite the pain yet, and a pinch of irritation.

"Looks fine."

"Will you tell me how you got your hands on last generation's milspec?" Gabriel ignores the question - no acknowledgment of it being asked even - as he's wont to do. Instead, he picks up a pillbox from the dresser. "I still got them."

"I know. You're dosing too low."

"Orgasm in a pill seems a bit too convenient." Jack massages the joint of his shoulder, moving to the bedroom. The carpet, probably soft on any other occasion, scratches his soles. "And a bit awkward."

"A fortunate coincidence of it interacting with your physiology."

"Yeah, coincidence. You're sure it's not another leash to keep me on?"

"If it were, you wouldn't be able to skip a dose. I'd make sure of it."

"I'm pulling your leg. I rather suspect you wouldn't do that, or would you?" Jack climbs the bed and props himself on the pillows - eyes focused on the single pill held between Gabriel's fingers, tracking it as he puts it in his mouth advancing - crawling over the covers, and Jack himself, with the grace of a predator playfully stalking a prey he knows cannot flee, the kill only a formality decided beforehand.

Drowning, always drowning in those eyes, black sclera and red irises blurring together into one, always looking too deep into him until he feels they don’t see him at all, his tongue brushing against sharp pointed teeth in an open-mouthed kiss, electricity traveling back and forth the nerves of phantom limbs with the speed of light coming to stop in a single burst leaving him breathless and shaking under Gabriel.

"Dutiful boy. You deserve a prize."

Jack chuckles at the first trace of any emotion in Gabriel's voice. The possessiveness is never truly gone, it's as much an integral part of him as are his looks, but there's a note of fondness giving Jack the incontestable impulse to almost preen: lower his lashes and incline back his head, hand sliding along dark red lines on Gabriel's arm.

"She's going to touch up off this."

"Are you worried about your privacy?"

"I'm used to having none with her. That was," he inhales sharply, feeling the bite on his collarbone, "for your benefit. I can see now you don't mind."

"I do not."

Jack merely snorts, rolling over and promising himself again to figure out Gabriel's trick with the clothes, there one moment and gone in the next, probably magic, but if he ever had any spark himself it was long lost with all the work done on him since the accident. Blunt as a troll's fist, this one.

Not that he has the ability to dwell on it while getting drilled into the mattress.

Later, the deep throbbing bites on his back, shoulders, and neck almost manage to take his mind off the itching under the sleeves, the kind anything but scratching the skin off whole does nothing for. The bites, they should bother him more but feel only right, as does the thumb following the line of his spine, up and down each bump, ceaseless, building the pressure and then letting go. Jack has to wonder as he drifts off if it's one of those times Gabriel will stay until he wakes.

"Lungs are still giving you problems."

Bathed in the sunlight, Gabriel looks as striking as in the darkness - minutely less dangerous now, however surface and not representative of his true nature the impression is. Regal. Focused on the multitude of holoscreens floating in the air before him.

"No. Not really."

"You were choking."

"Only a bit." Jack stretches, still feeling relatively boneless and exhausted, sticky with perspiration, too tired yet to consider the shower to be a genuine need right now. He slips off the bed only to retrieve the wrapped meat from the pile of discarded clothes in the other room and climbs right back into it.

"It's almost raw," Gabriel mentions when Jack's well into a third of his snack.

"Yeah. I'm finding it's not that bad at all, all things considered. Are you going to comment on my obviously poor dietary choices?"

"No. I'm rather curious about why would you consume it raw." A note of amusement, rare as it is, floats in Gabriel's voice. Jack shrugs.

"Started as a fucked up way to get closer and understand them better, and it grew on me. Not like I'm doing it a lot, wanted to treat myself tonight. Want some?"

To his astonishment, it does take Gabriel's attention away from the screens, as if he's considering the offer seriously - not that Jack would mind - and he leans in, hand trailing on Jack's shoulder for a moment and coming away with blood on the fingertips. Which he licks off.

One of the bites must’ve opened.

"No."

"Shit," Jack chuckles, pulling knees closer to his chest, resting his arms on them, just looking. "Could you just tell me what you are?"

"No. Probably never will."

"Suit yourself then, Knife-ears."

Soon afterward, Gabriel disappears in the bathroom and emerges back fully clothed, the suit so plain and unassuming it has to be worth its weight in diamonds, at least - and leaves without a word. Nothing about it bothers Jack, really, that's the only way he has ever known him to be: someone who's either rich or influential enough to never have had to conform to any social standards so they're like an alien concept to him. If anything, it tickles Jack's ego, the fact Gabriel spends both money and time on him regardless of his inscrutable reasons for it. And even if the time is scarce, the money comes in sums so high Jack’s not going to bother trying to figure the specific amounts out.

With a sigh, Jack plugs into his own pad, trying to ignore momentary vertigo any kind of connection, even the shallow one, gives him - waiting for Sombra to get to him. If she wanted anything from him, she always found him the second he jacked in.

The mental equivalent of a giggle has him rolling his eyes.

"You can say it."

"Boy, did you get screwed silly."

"I feel like I got some of my brain matter fucked out, that one's a freebie."

"What the hell are you eating now? Feedback from your tastebuds is giving me shivers."

"You too?" He bites off another chunk.

"What are you eating?" Sombra repeats, the tone akin to the one used towards a pet that definitely got into trash or picked up something suspect on the way.

"Almost raw meat."

"Interesting," she says after a pause. "Anyway, I'm done."

Jack flexes the free hand, clenching and unclenching his fist a few times.

"Not seeing any difference."

"You shouldn't because I know how to do my job. Also uploaded keys to the blocks, the data on the job, and you've got incoming charter on the roof in five hours."

"So I do have time for a bath then," he hums, smiling.

"Knock yourself out, I'm leaving you alone, you get weird in water."

"Thanks, Som."

"No biggie." Her presence warms up before blinking out, leaving Jack to sort through everything she's left behind both in, and on the pad. Processing plant, the floor plans from several flybys, one drone shot down by a spirit, two points of entrance, Genji on the spot, Jesse and him coming from the water with a few hours to spare, full carnage.

Jack smirks, pulling out the plug. Just how he likes it. He moves to the bathroom, the alarm set for two hours.

The bathtub is nothing spectacular, at best a tight fit for more than two people - still a fancy one with an array of controls barely anyone bothers to use. He picks the temperature and plays a bit with oxygenation and flow. Jack lowers himself into the water slowly, the cold playing havoc on the still sensitive synthskin. The nonexistent heat regulation of milspec freezes his joints with pain. All par for the course as he exhales before submerging in full.

And then, he breathes the water in.

The surface breaks with the remnants of the air pushed from his lungs. It's a poor man's substitute for the real thing but the pressure and the dampened hum of the surroundings, however dissimilar to a swim in the ocean, bring his mind some respite.

Running down the pier barefooted with the warmth of the sun on his back - jumping - the whiplash of the impact - diving deep, to look back from below at the light glimmering on the waves, the rays reaching for him - the hands reaching for him from the depths and pulling down.

With the sound of the alarm, Jack jolts up to a sitting position, coughing out the water. Another bout gets rid of the rest of it from the lungs, and he changes the temperature. The bath heats almost immediately.

The dream changes, but the ending remains always the same.

Head leaning against the rim of the tub, before properly washing, he spends minutes motionless except for the occasional shiver until his core warms up. Remaining two hours Jack idles away eating a late breakfast and not really watching some show on the holo while sprawled in the bed still smelling of sex.

Moving to the pad grants him some suspicious looks he can't fault people for because he does stick out here in his clothes like a sore thumb - and then surprise as his bracelet lets him pass through the gate and into the waiting Osprey with rotors running hot. A waste to use the craft fitted for carrying almost forty personnel merely for him, but he's not the one paying. At least, there's room enough to stretch his legs and to think very hard on how much he's unafraid of flying, his stomach doing backflips as it takes off.

The fact the crash might have been involved had occurred to him long ago.

Fifteen minutes in, Jack gives up and reaches out to Sombra, for which she ridicules him mercilessly but keeps him company. Getting angry helps to take his mind off of how fucking terrified he is. Even if he could run fucking laps inside the cabin, the changing tilt reminds him he's in the air, and the moment Osprey touches down three hours later, Jack's out like there's a pack of devil rats on his heels, relieved to have solid ground back under his feet.

Jesse, holding his hat down against the draft waves at him. The coyote stitched on his serape seems to stretch and yawn with the fabric moving, probably does so in truth, but Jack can never tell.

"Lúcio's finishing on the sub, we're going to drink tonight, coming too?"

Jack looks to the harbor and shakes his head.

"Not this time. I'll check the gear and maybe go for the swim."

"Dude, no, not in this water, trust me. Too much industrial, and many critters out here. Best case, you'd break out in boils after a dip."

"Can't be that bad."

"Well, Lúcio says that a pyramid had been hit hard some months back, there's been some runoff and an uptick in critters. Really want to chance it with whatever's in the water now?"

"Guess not." Jack shrugs, walking away from the powered down craft towards the only building on the pier.

"So how's about that drink?" The coyote on the red cloth sits down and scratches its ear. If he were to associate Jesse with any other spirit than it, he would be hard-pressed to find anything fitting.

"Pass. Just don't get in trouble with the locals. Or old pals."

"Hey, don't bring up my stalker vampire ex, the next time I see 'er, I have a stake with her name on it." Jesse throws his hands into the air, pausing in the doorway, letting Jack pass him.

"You know it doesn't work on her."

"It will slow her down."

"If you manage to stake anything vital."

"Oh, I will, because this," Jesse points to himself with a wide smile, "is absolutely irresistible to her."

Jack laughs, eyeing the crates set up inside.

"Yeah, there's no accounting for taste."

"Dude, harsh. Anyway, that's yours."

"Everything's in here?"

"I wouldn't know, I try not to touch your shit," Jesse gives an exasperated sigh while digging in his pockets for a cigar, the coyote snapping at it as he puts it between his lips. "Well, see you in the morning, dude," he adds before turning around. Jack nods, moving his attention to the boxes and working his way through their contents.

The story behind the coyote Jesse tells is as outlandish as the man himself, and a question for the ages of how he wasn't rad-insane or sporting another head. Yet.

In the German wasteland (the only place on earth one could be a real cowboy anymore, Jesse insisted), drunk off two shit beers because his ex fed off him earlier, and high on some local shrooms, staring at the dying campfire, the coyote came to him and took him on the trip. Jack would gladly chalk it up to alcohol, hallucinogenics, radiation, and exsanguination, all working in synergy - if not for the hard fact the coyote itself was very real, and as helpful as it turned out to be an impediment, or a bother, the other half of the time.

Methodically, Jack picks out the gear - the rest going back to their crates - and then he double-checks the selection, looking for any identifiable problems and defects. When he's finished and satisfied, it's well into the wee morning hours. He drags a random deck chair to the end of the pier and lays down in it. The city, as small as it is comparable to the majority on the coast, doesn't sleep - there is no escaping the lights and the sounds - but in his chosen spot overlooking more water than the land he can doze off.

If either Jesse or Lúcio notices him gasping for breath as they finish loading the sub, they don't mention it.

"I'm not hauling your shit," Jesse gestures to the container Jack left outside, by his chair.

"Hi, man," Lúcio smiles. "Also, I dig your new set, what's the specs?"

"You'd have to ask Sombra for technicalities, I'm only using them." Jack stretches, there's a kink below his left shoulder blade he tries to work out by rolling it. Almost manages to, too.

"Cool, will do. By the way, he tried to throw hands only once."

"Dude. Squeal much?"

"It's called being the responsible one," Lúcio shrugs and Jesse groans in response, muttering something sounding suspiciously like 'don't need a chaperone'.

"Sub's all ready?"

"She's right up purring now, the lady she is." Lúcio's eyes light up. "Nothing left to squeeze out."

"I'll hold you up to it." Jack gets up and drags the container to the sub, the box grating on the concrete, and brings it into the cabin, pushing it behind the seats.

"Oh, man, do that, love to see the data after you push her."

"Will do on the way back. Jesse, inside."

"That wasn't me sleeping when me and Lúcio were breaking our backs," Jesse snarks sliding into the pilot's seat, knowing well Jack's impatience and what they will use the spare time for. He doesn't mind, usually.

"Good hunting, guys." Lúcio mock-salutes as the hatch seals.

Before they're out of the harbor and submerged completely, Jack's out of his clothes, save for the boxers. Despite the sub being state-of-the art, with two people in it gets hot inside in less than an hour.

He starts on the sleeves, peeling them off slowly.

The synthskin underneath is still oversensitive, but no longer tries to overload his brain with conflicting or extreme stimuli. It just feels like blanched with boiling water and any negligible otherwise touch almost painfully tickles.

"Kinda creepy, like a snake's molt."

"Note to self, I look better with my skin falling off my frame."

"Hey, I'm just stating the bare facts. Fuck, ew!" Jesse leans away to evade the sleeve Jack waves in his direction. "Dude. No. That's uncalled for. I'm driving, I could crash us."

"Into what?"

"I'd find something!" It's either a threat, a promise, or a commentary on the nature of Karma.

"Out of the two of us, I'm the one who can breathe underwater, so..." Jack lets his voice hang as he reaches for the pillbox he left on the shelf earlier. It's a short debate if he should take one because even if he could take them as he felt like otherwise, risking going into implant rejection on the job was far from reasonable. As soon as the aftershocks fade, Jack leans back into the seat, lazily watching the water on the screen.

"And that's also creepy as fuck," Jesse comments, sounding a bit more somber. "You look like you just got your dick sucked off, every time."

"Honestly? Feels like it, every time."

"And you know what makes it even fucking creepier?"

"You're going to tell me and I can't stop it."

"Because this shit looks goddamn miraculous and I may have helped myself to some," Jesse begins, waving one arm in the air and Jack mutters that of course Jesse fucking did, "and they fucking don't work. And you know what's in them?"

"Not that interested as long as they work."

"It's people, dude."

Jack sends him a blase look.

"And you ate it."

"Yeah, but I didn't go looking like I creamed my pants after that."

"It's for implant rejection, so it only makes sense it has reconfigured genetic material in it. Also, do not eat my drugs, it's people."

Jesse grimaces.

"Dude, you made it sound weird."

"I made you getting into my stash of pharmaceutical drugs you personally can't get high off sound weird?"

"Dude, it's even weirder now. How do you do it?"

"What?" Jack chuckles. "You mean, use my brain, sometimes?"

Jesse mutters some expletive under his breath and Jack closes his eyes leaving it without comment as the whole chat makes him revisit more or less cloudy memories of the first months he's spent either half-conscious because of pain, or half-conscious because of drugs and pain.

At least, until the pill, and the moment when the pain finally went below the...

"Amida Bongo Christ Almighty!" Jack turns immediately at the sound of the genuine panic in the voice to see Jesse try to become one with his seat, pushing back with his feet against the floor, pointing at the screen where a shadow in the water comes into focus, massive, gliding with deliberation. "Of all the fucking things to run into, the Sea-Fucking-Dragon... we're all gonna die."

Jack kills the engine in his stead and swipes at the screen, focusing the image. He can't deny his own heart is hammering in his chest when he lets out the sigh of slight relief while trying to ignore Jesse's doom-saying.

"It's not her."

"What?"

"It's not her. Doesn't look like her, and it's much bigger."

"That's supposed to help us exactly how!?"

"Take her five hundred to the left," Jack, already climbing over the back of his seat and almost falling in a hapless heap on the container in the process, barks at him. "I'm going out."

"Are you fucking serious, dude? Of-fucking-course, you are!"

"Chance like this isn't going to repeat itself!"

"A chance to get fucking eaten by a dragon?"

"That too!" Jack locks the airlock behind himself and fits the propulsion module as it fills with water. There's no time to wait for the slow pressurization. When there's no air left inside, he forces the emergency release, pulling himself to the outside, and pushes away from the body of the sub.

"Dude." Jesse, switched to the comms, sounds appalled compared to the earlier panic, which is considerably better for the situation. "Did you just lewd a dragon?"

"Maybe possibly." Jack smiles, cutting across at an angle. "Remember, five hundred, match speed, if I do get eaten, go silent and wait, rendezvous with Genji, do the site rep, and then decide what you do."

"You're literally the last person who should give orders."

"Next to last. You're even less qualified."

"True what they say, the truth hurts."

The dragon is massive, its form much more suited to the open ocean than what footage of Sea Dragon there is shows of her. He's yet too far to discern if it has limbs or only the fins. It moves with a misleading slow grace, the powerful twists of the wide tail propelling it forward. Getting caught in the vortex of the currents pushed with each beat could be - is - deathly dangerous.

Smaller shapes swim with it, congregating around the middle part of its body.

At first, Jack takes them for merrows, they're known to attach themselves to big predators and form codependent relationships, but it's the perspective lying to him. They're bigger, more agile, gleam occasionally with reflective scales. A brood of young, maybe? If yes, the endeavor is even more foolish than in the beginning, but even that won’t deter him from undertaking it.

Two of the smaller creatures break away from the formation as he gets closer and approach, their tails swishing wildly in the water. Mermaids. Mermaids traveling in a pack with a dragon. Not something he had expected.

They're coming both from the above and the below, a male and an older female, judging by the scars and veils, still colorful but ripped and missing pieces. It's hard to keep up with their rapid movements. Jack curls his hands and legs to his body as they circle him.

"Please, don't bite," he tells them. "There's almost no meat and you will probably break your teeth on me."

The mermaids observe him warily. The female chirps once and turns back, the male following in her tow. She's green and yellow, the pattern reminiscent of the stripes on a perch or other fish known to thrive in greenery. When no light catches on her scales she blends with the deep green agate hue of the water, but Jack wonders if she's maybe better suited to sargassum forests. Her partner, on the other hand, with his solid canary yellow, stands out like a sore thumb - at least until both of them gain distance and rejoin the group amid some agitation from the closest mermaids, the reactions playing out like a change of direction in a school of fish.

It's his first close encounter with live mermaids since the accident, and he has been judged as neither a threat nor a meal. In this moment, Jack feels some of the rush bleed away, allowing him to slip into simple sensations, focus on them, and appreciate them: the steady pressure of water against every inch of his skin, the additional tension in his scalp when his hair, however short, drag with each movement, the cold seeping into him from the inside, the weightlessness - even if he knows his limbs would pull him much further down.

The ocean is far from silent - never silent - full of sounds he can hear with his ears, and the ones he cannot - he hears with his whole body - the symphony of the dulled hum of static and single notes played on different instruments, not unlike the sounds of traffic in its structure.

His eyes drift back to the dragon.

It's foolish. It's not borderline suicidal, it's just plain old suicidal. And he won't let a moment like this slip like air between his fingers.

Hand on the controls of the drive, Jack resumes the approach.

The dragon looms closer, its body at least thirty meters long from the tip to the tail, probably more. He can now see its limbs tucked close to the underbelly - the fins reminiscent of underdeveloped wings.

He swims parallel to its head, advancing.

Bone-like white crest covers its front. The black scales, even if they seem to have an inner shine to them, appear to consume the light voraciously. The dark red lines streaking along the sides twist and mold with each move of the powerful muscles hidden underneath.

Jack's heart does not fit into his chest, so hard it hammers against his ribs from the inside - with fear, with excitement, with awe - and that's before the low rumble resonates within him as the dragon opens its eyes, one after another, five of them on the side he's facing - each an abyss of darkness ringed with glowing red slowly focusing on him: an insignificant speck in comparison.

"God. You're beautiful."

No. It was a worthless descriptor when applied to the apex predator wrought with raw power both physical and not.

Sublime.

The dragon disregards him - its eyes swivel to look forward - he cannot fathom expecting to keep such creature's interest for longer than this. But it's also an invitation, he's considered to be harmless, hence nothing to bother with, and Jack slows slightly while swimming up. Above its bulk, he notices some mermaids just clinging to the body, clawed fingers curled around the edges of the scales. Stupid, again, but he is going to try the same: hitch a ride on a dragon.

The thought is intoxicating, sends his mind reeling with unsuppressed glee.

He dives forward, his fingertips brush the hard surface - with caution he digs his fingers underneath the scale - the other palm he lays flat against it as the propulsion module switches off.

Jack pulls himself closer against the current, that rush of underwater wind. Never has he wished for his limbs back more than now, to touch and feel with his real skin, not even when the bones that aren't his anymore burn with that deep ache that sends all the thoughts skittering away with no control. Instead, he pulls flush against its body, forehead pressed into the scales, each contraction of the muscle below them felt intimately.

At the moment, he doesn't count time, not until another rumble, one he feels against his skin, makes him realize almost two hours have passed.

He looks back to see the mermaids otherwise swimming try to grab onto scales as it continues. In the front, what he took for vestigial wings - the fins - slowly unfold to reveal skeletal-like frame filled in with dark ethereal filigree straining on the currents.

It's a profound kind of sadness Jack feels loosening his grip. Drifting - falling - sinking - away.

The wings spread and angle. The dragon's back winds up like a spring.

Then it soars underwater, deep in the ocean, each beat of the wings carrying it further away into darkness.

The rush of water pushed by the dragon sends him spinning. Jack instinctively curls his limbs to his core to wait it out, losing all sense of direction in resulting vertigo. When it stops, it takes him a while to orient himself, the leviathan nowhere to be seen anymore.

"Jesse, it's safe to approach. Can you get to my signal because I'm fucking lost?"

"I see you," the response comes with a delay. "Coming from your general six. Dude, do you know how much is the footage worth?"

"It's worthless." Jack turns around with a few kicks.

"All would kill..."

"You can't put a price on it, it will put a price on your life." He can see the incoming lights blinking for his benefit as they draw near. "And you want to put out there a proof of a dragon that had remained away from the public knowledge until now?"

"Fair, even I'm not that stupid. I think. With the way you put it."

Jack swims towards the sub and grabs one of the railings, pulling himself towards the airlock. Minutes later, he climbs into his seat, dripping water everywhere.

"Got what you wanted outta that one? Besides getting eaten?"

"I think I've found god," Jack smiles, genuinely. It's a memory he's going to treasure, one unlikely to be eclipsed by any other in the foreseeable future.

"You going to be one of them dragon-worshipping freaks? I've heard things, and none good, I say."

"Not like that."

"So," Jesse turns his head to look at him. "You want to dick down a dragon."

"When you get down to it," Jack starts carefully, eyeing Jesse with a certain degree of suspicion, "yeah, basically."

"Heard about that one club you can meet one, violet eyes and..."

"I don't want to dick down a dragon, I want to dick down this one."

"Okay. It's important to have goals in one's life. I'm not judging."

It's at this point that something about a much earlier conversation occurs to Jack and he stills before covering his eyes with his palm.

"Jesse?"

"Mhm?"

"When you said you have a stake with her name on it... Did you mean your dick?"

Jesse raises his eyebrows, makes finger-guns with his hands, and goes for a pithy imitation of 'badum-tss' sound.

"You fucking moron." And Jack can only laugh.

#sometimes I write #reaper76 #r76 #mermay

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tearystarlight · 6 years ago

Text

Undertale: Appearances

Grillster. Underswap!

I've wanted to attempt this AU for awhile, with the beautiful Underswap art out there. Seeing as Gaster is male, he's known as the Riverman, not as the Riverperson.

I’ve also wanted to try the Underswap AU where Gaster is perpetually the Royal Scientist in spite of everyone else being switched around, but I might re-purpose that idea for something in the classic universe.

There was nothing inherently crazy about a monster riding the Riverman's boat. Monsters did so with good frequency; the Riverman provided the most convenient transport between the different areas of the Underground, adjusting his speed of travel if he sensed urgency from his passengers. Shimmering translucent hands would appear to the sides of the boat, simultaneously pushing and pulling the boat to cross distance with greater speed. He was a pleasant enough conversationalist even in such situations, though his unusual speech was a bit jarring for the youngsters who had never met skeletons.

It was understandable nowadays. The Riverman was the last known skeleton in the Underground.

No one knew with certainty if the Riverman was the same monster that originated the myths of a creature ferrying along the souls of the dead. He was an old monster, having known the surface and its wonders once upon a time, but there were rumors that he was still younger than the king and queen and old Gerson. They remained rumors; it seemed impolite to badger the monster who was taking you to your destination for a nominal fee.

Anyway. There was nothing inherently crazy about riding the Riverman's boat.

A fire monster riding the Riverman's boat, though? That required a certain amount of daring. Or something else.

The fire monster in question -- one Mr. Grillby -- had a level of notoriety in Hotland. He was a businessman of noticeable charm, supervising a small army of fire monsters and providing them a steady stream of work as couriers, cooks, and (for the especially brave) trash collectors. He was a job creator for the little ones, giving them opportunities to be curious and leave the comforts of the heat vents and lava rivers to see the rest of the Underground. Mutterings around the capital alluded to the fire monster's eccentric style being a mask for a cunning mind; some even whispered that he conspired to overthrow the king with his growing influence in Hotland and Home.

But there were others that saw the tycoon whiling away his time on the edge of Hotland, opaque glasses turned to the river. He would greet the Riverman with a princely flourish, bowing low and offering his fare with a crackling smile before boarding the boat. The Riverman, expression hidden by the folds of his hood, never said anything.

Mr. Grillby rarely had anywhere he had to go. Observers never saw him disembark in Snowdin, and only in Waterfall on occasion. He would depart from Hotland only to return to Hotland. And he would happily pay the Riverman's fee each and every time.

He was most certainly crazy.

~~~

“My little ones thought you would like this. Sweet potato.”

Skeletal hands delicately took the package, rustling the paper to uncover the cuts of battered and fried vegetable. An appraising hum floated from the depths of the hood as the Riverman ate the proffered food.

“It’s better than the mushrooms. The onion is still my favorite.”

Grillby chuckled as he took a fry for himself, crossing his legs to make himself comfortable on the boat. “I swear, you are doing this on purpose, my sweet. The onion was the first variant I shared with you.”

A gentle snort. “On purpose? Fried onion just happens to taste good.” Nonetheless, he continued eating the fried sweet potato, his attention carefully split between his guest, his food, and keeping the boat levitated above the water.

“Regardless, I value your opinion! If you believe it passes muster, it shall go on the menu. My little ones will be pleased.”

“I wish for your continued success.”

Grillby’s smile lacked the jagged edges of his usual excitement, reflecting a calm that few others saw. It was rarely a good sign. “So formal today. Shall I go full aristocratic for His Lordship Wingdings Gaster III of the Houses Ornamental?”

The Riverman dropped the package—and almost dropped the boat. “I would prefer you didn’t.” His voice warbled as he slipped out of Common and into his natural font, even more incomprehensible in that brief moment.

Laughter bounced along the stretch of tunnel that made up part of the water journey from Snowdin to Waterfall. The cold air from Snowdin kept the tunnel generally safe from the condensation that would gather on stalactites and drip water onto unsuspecting passersby below.

There was a tentative rustle of cloth before the Riverman pushed back his hood, pale eyelights pinning Grillby with an admonishing glare. “Sometimes I think you have a death wish.” The fire monster was still laughing in a raucous way, despite his tight grip on the edges of the boat. A focused breath and tense couple of seconds were soon followed by the boat being gently set back down onto the water by blue magic hands.

“Not at all.” Grillby didn’t miss a beat, his fiery fingers releasing the boat to instead reach for the skeleton’s. “I just enjoy flaunting how well I know you.” He might as well flaunt it to the only person he could tell, right?

The next silence was more companionable, hands laced together. The Riverman did not comment on the slight tremor in the other’s hands. Despite the bravado, a monster of flame still had much to fear from the river.

“Note to self: Do not use Gaster’s full name when he can drop the boat. He’s easily startled by facts.”

An annoyed huff was all the Riverman said in reply, his thumbs moving in apologetic circles on Grillby’s knuckles. A pleasant warmth soon returned to the cramped space as they sat facing each other.

“…Let’s get you back on solid ground, you fool.”

Grillby’s headflame burned slightly lower, a dull orange of reluctance. “Not yet.” He continued a little louder, his hands regaining their confidence and anchoring the other’s in place. “I just got here.”

He was probably a little crazy.

But his actions earned him an affectionate look from the skeleton, as well as a quiet laugh. They earned him these moments, with uncovered eyelights and clasped hands and memories of a time long before ceilings were their skies and their stars flickered false above glowing water.

So craziness suited him just fine.

#underswap #grillster #w.d. gaster #grillby #swap!grillby #swap!gaster #my fics and drabbles #undertale

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science-lings · 6 years ago

Text

Peter Parker’s Parental Support Group Part 2

Pepper had met Peter sure, she understood why her fiance was so protective and caring towards him, the kid was like a mini version of Tony. Unfortunately, that included his self-care habits. Needless to say, he had none.

In some ways, Peter was worse than Tony. Peter had school to deal with as well as the incessant need to impress his mentor. (Which he already did on multiple occasions, judging by the way Tony talked about him and all of his little accomplishments.) Peter also spent all of his free time being a vigilante and saving cats for old ladies. This all meant that Peter never slept and after a while, it was affecting him.

Pepper had been working on some paperwork in her office at the tower and was honestly sick of it and ready to go a few floors up to pass out in her big comfy bed next to Tony, who was likely not even sleeping and just playing with some over-the-top idea on a Stark brand tablet if he wasn’t in the workshop.

Thankfully, F.R.I.D.A.Y. gave her a reason to leave her office. It wasn’t the reason she had expected though.

“Boss? I am programmed to inform you that my creator and the spider-ling have fallen asleep in the workshop. Due to them having panic disorders or heightened senses, I am not allowed to wake them up. I would advise checking up on them.” The AI said calmly.

“Save a few pictures in our personal database. I’ll be right there.” Pepper automatically smiled at the image that she imagined.

“I’m already ahead of you boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. sounded like she was smiling if she had a face. Pepper made her way back to her penthouse and said goodbye to the rest of the late night workers on her way there.

The workshop attached to the top private floors for Tony’s convenience. It made it incredibly easy for Pepper to get to as it was practically its own floor. Pepper tried to be as quiet as she could as to not disturb the sleeping genius’ and her curiosity was a little bit overwhelming.

Pepper was not disappointed. Although they weren’t immediately visible, it didn’t take long to find them. Tony was slumped over a desk with his head in his arms, slightly tilted to one side. This was the side where Peter was leaning against him. Peter’s hair was a little wild, indicating that he didn’t fall asleep attached to Tony, he just got there. In any case, it was adorable.

While Tony and Peter snoozed in unison, Pepper made the picture F.R.I.D.A.Y. took her cellphone background and she debated whether to let them sleep or wake them up so they don’t get sore. Pepper compromised by bringing in a few blankets and pillows from the nearby home theater and set them up to make sure her boys wouldn’t wake up with full body cramps.

Peter adjusted himself and blinked his eyes half open and miles away from awake. He looked at her with a confused expression but seemed oblivious to his closeness to Tony.

“MsPotts?” Peter slurred only a little louder than a whisper.

“You can go back to sleep Peter. You looked kind of tired,” Pepper said as she gave into the urge to comb her fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered for a moment, obviously too out of it to really process anything.

“Okay…” Peter sighed and went back to his place resting on Tony’s side. Pepper smiled a bit and kissed both of her boys on their scalps before leaving to have some well needed alone time.

Neither Tony nor Peter had to know that she had kept an eye on them through F.R.I.D.A.Y. and she saw when Tony woke up and carried Peter to his bedroom in the tower. She also saw, in HD, Tony tuck the kid in with heart-crushing gentleness.

Needless to say, she saved the video and planned on watching it every time Tony tried to convinse the world of his heartlessness.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

New Messages

To: May Parker

From: Pepper Potts

Pepper: I think you would apreciate this.

Pepper sent Naptime.png

May: Holy fuck. I have a new phone background.

Pepper: Too bad, I’m already having it framed. I’m hanging several copies around the tower tomorrow.

May: You should get a painting commissioned of it.

Pepper: I like the way you think…

May: Hang it in your office at the tower.

Pepper: I was thinking about the lobby instead. There's a picture of Howard that I want to replace.

May: Tony's father always looks grumpy anyway.

Pepper: Haven’t you been working all day? It’s late, you should get some sleep.

May: You’re literally the CEO of a massive company. You should get sleep too.

Pepper: You literally work 12 hours a day. Go to sleep.

May: no u

Pepper: Fine. goodnight.

May: wait no

Pepper formally joined the club of Peter’s parental figures when he made her almost have her first heart attack.

Tony was gone, figuring out some Avengers things, and Pepper just had to keep an eye on Peter’s suit status on the edge of her screen while she worked. Easy peasy. It was only easy peasy for the first two days.

Then Peter got stabbed. And Pepper was too far away to have Happy drive her. So she did something that she didn’t believe she would need to do in a less than apocalyptic scenario. She activated the rescue protocol.

During one of his tech binges, Tony had made her a suit that he assured would just be for emergencies. He didn’t plan on her doing what he did but he wanted to do all he could to protect her if something bad happened. Instead of using it to protect her, Pepper decided to use it to help the kid that had slowly become part of her family.

She had been in her office at the time, not really working on something terribly important or urgent when F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed her of the situation. Because of course, Peter wouldn’t want help and his AI would be required to go behind his back. Pepper was thankful for the tattletale protocol.

“-said not to call- oh hey Ms. Potts...” Peter said nervously through her earpiece.

“Cut the shit Pete, what happened.” She said quickly, not wanting to waste any time. Peter was silent for a moment before he answered timidly.

“I got stabbed… “

“How much blood have you lost?” Pepper asked as she got out of her chair and started to run towards where the emergency suit was held behind a secret door.

“It’s not that bad… I’m fine…”

“Karen?”

“Peter has lost twelve ounces of blood so far.”

“Come on-” Peter protested.

“Hang tight, I’m on my way.” Pepper hung up and let the red and white suit fold around her body. She wasn’t used to it but it wasn’t as weird as it had once been. Thankfully Tony had given her a crash course in the suit when he made it so she wasn’t a complete amateur on flying in metal suits.

She shot out of an opened hatch in the wall and followed the information on her visor. The information was kind of overwhelming and chaotic but Pepper was used to chaos and a lot of information at once so this wasn’t much of a change for her. She flew for about a mile before diving into an ally where Peter had taken shelter.

Pepper’s helmet folded back as she looked worriedly at the teenager. He had bled a lot but not completely horrifyingly so. She could patch up a knife wound… probably. She knew basic first aid and with Peter’s healing factor, it wouldn’t be too hard of a problem to fix. The wound was small and not even that deep, it didn’t touch any of his organs and the only problem seemed to be the blood loss and the pain.

Peter may have yelped a bit when Pepper picked him up bridal style but didn’t seem outwardly in horrible pain after a moment of getting settled in her arms. Pepper took off quickly with plenty of soft reassurances to the kid.

In no time she flew them to the med bay of the tower and put him on one of the medical beds. Pepper got out of her suit and rushed to the medical supplies. Thankfully the injury wasn’t too serious because she had no idea what she was doing. She did assume that she was doing better than anything the reckless teenager could come up with.

Peter kept apologizing but Pepper brushed it off. She wrapped his wound in black medical bandages that constricted enough to stop or slow the bleeding but not too much.

Pepper gave Peter some strong painkillers that were a product of Doctor Cho’s medical genius. The painkillers made Peter tired enough to pass out which gave Pepper the opportunity to notify May and Tony of what happened in a new group chat. She sent a picture to prove that Peter was fine.

The birth of the group chat began something that none of them could have expected. A sort of comradery over Peter was created and it led to some pretty great moments.

But that was another story.

#pepper potts #peter parker #pepperony #irondad #ironmom #fic rec

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nataliesewell · 6 years ago

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i’ll admit, i’m a fool for you ;

MORGAN & DETECTIVE; the wayhaven chronicles. the agency hosts a ball. you and unit bravo are invited. this is just a convenient excuse to write morgan in a suit.

this fic was originally supposed to have sexual content, but i decided to write two versions. this one is the tame one lmao, but there’s still some suggestive content. tread carefully!

You smooth a hand down over your clothes, turning this way and that as you stand before the mirror. The Agency supposedly hosts its fair share of balls which, as the new—and first—human liaison of Wayhaven, you must attend. Which is why you’re currently wearing the nicest formal attire you own, trying to tamp down your nervousness. Who knows how the night will go?

At least Unit Bravo will be there, you tell yourself. The thought makes you feel better, if only slightly. It’s not like you’re being thrown to the wolves—even if it is likely that there will be werewolves present at the ball. You snort. Farah’s clearly been rubbing off on you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a doorbell. It sounds once, twice, three times in succession. Someone’s impatient.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” you call out, somewhat annoyed, as you walk to the front door. You open it to see Morgan on the other side, who’s sporting an impressive scowl.

“Finally,” she says. “Let’s go. The others are already at the venue.” You aren’t sure if she was going to say more, because then her eyes take in your figure. Morgan’s brows raise at the sight of your attire. A wolfish smile lifts her lips. “Well. Don’t you clean up nice.”

You flush despite yourself. “Thanks. I think. And you’re…” you begin, examining her outfit. When you heard the ball was a black tie event, you were unsure what to expect from Morgan. She isn’t the type to dress up. At all. To your surprise, she did.

Morgan’s wearing a deep maroon suit, the material fitted and almost clinging to her figure in some places. The suit jacket is unbuttoned, showing off the white dress shirt she’s wearing beneath. You can just glimpse the black cord of her crystal necklace, tucked underneath the shirt, out of sight. Her dark hair falls in waves around her face, not styled a particular way but neat and combed.

In short, Morgan looks good… if it hadn’t been for the fact that her dress shirt is rumpled and untucked, and her matching maroon tie isn’t tied. You resist the urge to sigh. That’s more in line with the Morgan you know.

“What?” she says rudely, having noticed your expression.

“You couldn’t tie your tie? Or tuck your shirt in, at least?” you ask, brow held aloft.

She rolls her eyes. “I’m wearing a suit. That’s enough.”

You decide not to push further, instead moving back so she can enter. “I’m almost ready. I just need a few more minutes.”

Morgan frowns at the response, but she steps inside. You close the door behind her. “You’re still not ready?”

“It’s a ball, Morgan. It takes time to dress appropriately for this type of event,” you sigh, walking past her. You step into your bedroom to put on the accessories you’ve picked out for the occasion. As you do, you spot Morgan in the dresser mirror.

She’s settled against the door frame, watching you with a bored expression. Nothing out of the ordinary. But the pose causes her halfway buttoned shirt to stretch wider, giving you a glimpse of the black bra she’s wearing underneath. Your mouth is suddenly dry.

Grey eyes meet yours in the mirror, catching you looking. Morgan’s lips widen into a smirk. “See something you like, Detective?” she all but purrs.

You startle. You hadn’t even realized how long you’d been staring at her. Glancing away quickly, you clear your throat and say, “I-I’m almost done.”

“You know,” Morgan says, tilting her head. The tips of her hair ghosts along her collarbone, a trail you wish you could follow. You can almost feel her gaze raking over your form, slow as molasses. “No one would notice if we showed up a little later…”

You sputter, feeling heat crawl up your neck. “I—no—we’re going,” you manage to say. “Right now.” You slip on your shoes, which you had grabbed from your closet. “There. All done.”

Morgan huffs. “Whatever,” she mutters. Her tone, which had previously been sultry, returns to its usual cold drawl. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

You make your way to the door, where Morgan’s waiting, when your gaze lands on her tie. It looks pitiful around her neck, the ends crumpled and limp. You cast your eyes up at the ceiling, sighing, before you stalk forward.

“About damn time.” Morgan pushes off the door frame, expecting you to move past her. She blinks when you stop in front of her instead, momentarily taken aback. Then she grins. “What, you change your—”

“It hurts to look at you,” is all you say, before you reach out. Your fingers grasp a plastic button, one of the ones Morgan hadn’t fastened. You expect her to step back, or push your hands away, but she only scoffs. You take that to mean she doesn’t mind.

You begin buttoning up her shirt. You make sure not to linger long on a button, or ogle the exposed skin that is covered up, inch by inch. Morgan already caught you staring; you’d rather not be embarrassed twice. You fasten the last button and move onto her tie.

As you do, you finally register how quiet it is. Morgan has yet to shift and complain about how long it’s been, or even say a word. She just breathes, her chest moving slightly under your ministrations.

You peek up at her, curious. And nearly jolt when you realize how close she is. You’d been so intent on fixing her suit that you hadn’t noticed.

What’s more startling, however, is the look on her face. Morgan’s brow is furrowed, and she’s staring at you with a strangely serious expression. It’s almost as if she’s studying you. Trying to figure you out.

You gaze into her stormy grey eyes, your hands still grasping her tie, task forgotten. You find it difficult to look away, as if her stare is the only thing tethering you to Earth. The smell of cigarette smoke settles over you, and underneath it, sandalwood. Your body sways closer to her, being pulled into her orbit; your stomach brushes hers, a whisper of a touch.

Morgan blinks, frowning, at the touch. It seems to snap her out of her thoughts, whatever they were. Her expression shutters closed instantly, becoming inscrutable. The pull you’d felt, suddenly, is gone.

“Morgan---” you say, tongue thick and clumsy in your mouth. Only to cut yourself off when she yanks her tie out of your grip.

“We’re getting late,” Morgan bites out, her eyes cold and hard. She turns on her heel and walks away, leaving behind the scent of sandalwood. For a moment, your eyes slip closed. You gather yourself, feeling oddly exposed by the wordless exchange.

Then you sigh, open your eyes, and follow after her. You have a ball to attend, after all.

#the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven chronicles fic #morgan #i'm not completely satisfied with this #but the length's good? at least? djfmdak #maria writes #long post for ts

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cookinguptales · 7 years ago

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The first two people who sent me one-word prompts sent “snow” and “flower” and I tried to incorporate both of those.

So have a story about a royal trying to deal with the magical flower petals raining down on her country. (Gen this time, change of pace.)

When Andira woke up that morning, there was a peculiar electricity in the air. She lay there in bed for a moment, staring up at her familiar patterned canopy and contemplating the sensation, before she finally sat up.

She eyed Rian, her assistant of many years, and took in her tense posture, the lines lurking beneath her eyes. "There's something wrong, isn't there?" Andira asked.

Rian hesitated. "Wrong might be too strong of a word, Second."

Andira sighed, then forced herself to shake off the last calming vestiges of sleep. "Talk to me, Rian," she said, even as she slowly rolled out of bed and started rummaging through her closet. "Court clothes or traveling clothes?"

"The Ruling First has not requested your appearance in court, Second. She did have a message for you, though."

"And that is?"

She could hear the barely-repressed smile in Rian's voice as she answered, "She said to keep to the capital proper and to, quote, 'keep your foolish head down'."

Andira snickered as she finally drew out clothing that would suit the occasion. Fine white trousers, and a tunic in royal scarlet. "Casual formal, then."

"Yes, Second."

Everyone in the capital already knew her face, so there was hardly any point in dressing down. These colors would lend her the authority she needed to investigate the cause of — she paused, foot half-in her trousers. "Rian, what is the problem, exactly?"

Rian hesitated. The woman wasn't exactly prone to silencing her thoughts around royalty; she'd been in their trusted circle for far too long. So it must have been uncertainty that was holding her tongue. "You might want to look out the window, Second," she said finally said, carefully.

Andira laced her trousers as she crossed the room — and then stopped short. "Suns above."

She'd never seen anything like it. She'd thought it was snow at first, but it wasn't, was it? Soft, white petals were raining down from the sky, which would have been surreal even if it had been the correct season. It was as if the entire palace had been covered by the canopy of one immense tree, and its petals were falling, slow and gentle, to the ground. Andira peered down at said ground, several stories below. It appeared that quite a bit of the petals had already fallen, if the piles outside her window were any indication. "How long has this been going on?"

"An hour or two," Rian responded. "Since around full dawn."

Damn. This is what she got for sleeping in. "They aren't dangerous, are they? No injuries?"

"No, Second. They're just... flowers."

Andira sighed. "So I'm headed to the learning center, am I?" she asked.

Rian cleared her throat, and Andira was sure of it, she was definitely holding back a laugh now. "If you think that's best, Second."

It had been Andira's idea to start the learning center. Moreover, it had been her idea to start the center so close to the palace. She'd thought it would be a good idea to bring the best and brightest to the capital to learn from the country's foremost experts. She'd believed it would help them learn the diplomatic skills they would surely need in addition to their natural talents, and that it'd be convenient to have close by in case the court wanted to check in on their progress. She still believed it, for that matter.

Even though it seemed that their nation's best and brightest tended to get in rather oversized trouble.

It hadn't exactly been a popular idea at the time, but there was a reason she was the Ruling Second in their country. She was known for her ideas and commitment to seeing them through, as well as a tongue quick enough to convince the Ruling First she was right. Andira had convinced her then, as she almost always did, but she was certain to get a ribbing from the rest of court in the coming days.

"Right, then," Andira said, taking her long staff from its holder next to her bed, just in case. "I'm off."

The learning center was in utter disarray when Andira walked inside, and she couldn't say that she was surprised to see it. They'd found the best in the land to oversee its operations, but it was quite the endeavor and still so new. There were so many students of all ages and backgrounds, and even setting aside their inherent talents, their needs were difficult to juggle proficiently. It wasn't unusual to walk in to find a minor emergency going on.

Though this one was a bit flashier than most, Andira was forced to admit. "May I speak to Master Jin, please?" she asked, and all movement in the building's front office ceased.

Melisande, one of the senior administrators at the center, slowly rose to her feet behind one of the desks. "Master Jin, Second?" she asked, quietly.

"Yes. Is he in, Melisande?" she asked.

Melisande nodded. Both she and Andira knew that Jin was in charge of the center's mage division. "Come with me, Second."

The two of them walked the center's winding corridors, passing by rooms and buildings and small fields that had been set aside for training. The fields were empty, too full of fallen blooms to use, and Andira couldn't help but sigh. A whole day wasted.

"This is an accident, I'm sure, Second," Melisande said, hesitantly.

"I'm sure," Andira replied. Whose accident was still up for debate.

Melisande finally stopped outside a plain door. It wasn't Jin's office, Andira knew. That was in an entirely different building. It was one of the magical training rooms, she believed, one of the ones they'd carefully spelled to be well-nigh indestructible.

Melisande breathed in, slow. "Master Jin is a very good instructor," she said.

"I know," Andira said. "I vetted him myself."

Melisande nodded. Andira had interviewed all of the staff members and experts that lived onsite, in fact. She was known for her thoroughness. "And his students — they try very hard, Second."

"I'm sure they do," Andira said. She knew how hard their scouts worked to find the most promising students. "Is it safe to enter?"

Melisande bit at her lower lip. "Yes, Second," she said, then reached out and knocked at the door. It was a smart knock, sharp and quick, but Andira had seen her hand shake just a bit before it had made contact.

There was a moment of silence, and then the door opened. Jin was standing there looking haggard, as if he hadn't slept in quite some time. What little hair he still possessed was winging up, like he'd been running his hands through it, and his skin was well lined. "Second," he said, a quiet greeting. He did not sound surprised to see her standing there.

"Master Jin," she returned politely. "May I come in?"

He closed his eyes for a moment and looked very, very old. "Yes, Second," he said, then stepped back so she could come inside.

She looked around the room. It appeared to be in good shape. No damage to the walls, and it was mostly devoid of furniture, but in a way that looked more purposeful and less like a student had botched a banishing spell.

In fact, all it seemed to contain was two chairs, a table, and one crying child. Andira looked at her for a minute, cataloging every detail, and then it clicked. "Oh," she said softly. "I see."

The girl was young, perhaps twelve summers at the most, and her dark hair had been pulled away from her face in a messy bun. She looked as if she had come from a town near the western sea, with what looked like violet eyes and skin a shade or two lighter than both Andira's and Jin's. Like many of their students, she'd come a long way from home.

Most importantly of all, though, she was cradling a short limb to her chest as she cried. It was hard to tell from here, but it looked to Andira like the girl's left arm ended just below her elbow, and that... That would make magic very difficult. Andira had heard that only the most skilled mages could signal spells one-handed. Most students never even attempted it.

Andira walked into the room, feeling Jin shadow her as she entered, and sat down in the chair across from the little girl. "Hello," she said, pitching her voice gentle. "I am Ruling Second Andira. May I know your name?"

The girl sat back in her chair a little and scrubbed at her eyes with her hand. Now that she wasn't clutching at her other arm, yes, Andira could see exactly what had caused today's little problem. Then the girl put her hand down in her lap and drew her other arm tight against her side, and Andira wondered who'd taught her to do that. It looked uncomfortable.

The girl looked up at her with wide eyes, and, well, Andira supposed she probably had never met a ranking member of the court before. "Ceena," she whispered. Then her eyes went impossibly wider and she quickly corrected herself. "My name is Adetta Ceena, Honored Second."

"Second will suffice," Andira corrected automatically. "Or you can simply call me Andira."

She heard Melisande shifting over by the doorway, and she could feel Jin's eyes on her back. Suns above, the man had always had such a piercing stare. In front of her, Ceena looked more nervous still. "Second," she repeated obediently, more of a mumble than anything.

"Thank you," Andira said, and then placed her staff on the table to the side of them and folded her hands in her lap. "Have you been outside to see our unusual weather today?" she asked.

Ceena stiffened. "Y-yes, Second," she said.

Andira paused, watching the girl's body language. Yes, this very clearly had been an accident, and not nearly so severe a one as she had feared. "I think it's rather pretty," she said evenly, "but I think the cleanup crews won't be as happy about it."

Ceena frowned, as if not quite sure what to make of Andira's statement. "I — I'm sorry," she said. Her eyes lowered to her lap. "The storm is my fault."

Andira shook her head. "'Storm' is too strong of a word, don't you think?" She paused. "As is 'fault'."

Behind her, she heard Jin blow out a low sigh. Relief, she supposed. Really, what had he expected her to do? Andira knew she could be exacting in her expectations, but she was hardly a monster. "Ceena is one of my best students," he said, and his voice sounded a little thick in his throat. "Despite her... limitations."

Andira tilted her head to the side, not taking her eyes off of the girl in front of her. "Ceena," she said, "I've not been gifted with magic myself, so maybe you can help me with something. Mages use hand signals to control their powers, correct?"

Ceena nodded slowly, her eyes darting back and forth between Andira and Jin. "Most — most of the signals require..." She swallowed, but then forced herself to continue. "Two hands. Second."

"That's what I thought," Andira replied. "Most mages need to train for their whole lives to spell one-handed, I've heard."

She nodded again, and the set of her shoulders went soft. Dejected. "Yes, Second."

Finally, Andira looked away. "Master Jin," she said, "do you have another chair you could use? You're looming."

Jin started, and from the corner of her eye, she could see him relax. Jin was a smart man. He knew an invitation to a conversation when he heard one. "One moment, Second," he said, and then — ah, of course. All he had to do was make a few motions and then a chair was there, ready and waiting for him.

Andira sighed. Mages. She'd never met one yet who hadn't been a bit flashy. "Please, sit," she said.

He did, and it was not lost on her that he positioned himself to the left of them and yet as close to between them as he could manage. He had always been protective of his pupils. That was one of the reasons she'd hired him.

"Master Jin," she said. "How long has Ceena been studying here with you?"

"Almost two seasons," he said promptly.

Andira closed her eyes for a moment. "I see," she said, and she did. Only two seasons of instruction and still just a child, and yet she was performing magic of this magnitude? No wonder the scouts had brought her here for training. "And have you approached the court about the magical researcher position you currently have open?"

Master Jin frowned. "Second?" he asked.

"Master Jin," she said, and gave him a very pointed look. "You have here a student of great potential who needs to learn one-handed spelling at a very young age. Am I correct?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"And are you an expert in techniques used to teach one-handed spelling to..." She paused, finding her words. "Early students?"

His eyes widened in understanding. "I��"

"Yes," a small voice interrupted, and they both turned to see Ceena sitting up taller than she had so far all day. "Master Jin is — he's very, very good."

Andira raised her eyebrows. Loyalty. A good trait to find in a child so fierce. "Ceena, who taught you back in your village?" she asked.

Ceena hesitated. "My parents," she said.

Suns. Very little formal training, then. This child really was going to be a powerful mage one day. “Have you ever met with a magical researcher?" Andira asked.

Ceena wilted, just a little. "No..."

Andira knew that mages had been studying new ways of learning one-handed spelling. Mages were always studying new ways of learning everything. And she knew that as gifted as Jin was at teaching students with great power, he had never been much of a researcher. "I wish you had asked us for help, Master Jin," she said quietly, allowing the smallest bit of reproach to slip into her voice. "And I am grateful that it was not a more cataclysmic event that brought me to your classroom."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, "Yes, Second."

"Ceena," she said, and watched her straighten up in her seat. "Your loyalty is commendable, but as your Ruling Second, I must tell you that this teaching situation is no longer tenable."

Ceena hesitated and glanced quickly over at Jin.

"She means," he said heavily, "that your teaching cannot go on in this way."

Andira nodded. "Someone might get hurt," she said. "That someone may even be you or Master Jin."

Moons, this close to the palace, someone very powerful might get hurt, and what a headache that would be.

Ceena's short arm went even tighter against her rib cage, and Andira watched her breaths become shallower. "You—" she began, and her voice had gone very, very small. "You're not sending me away, are you? Please — please don't send me away. I promise I'll work harder."

And that was the crux of it, wasn't it? That was why Melisande had been so apologetic and Jin had been so tense. That had been why neither one of them had come to her with the concerns they should have. This was exactly what needed to change. "I'm not sending you away," she said. Then she glanced over at Jin. "And I'm not sending you away, either, Jin, stop looking so grim."

Ceena's eyes looked about ready to fall out of her head, though whether it was due to relief or the fact that someone had just referred to her teacher with such casualness was anyone’s guess. "You're not?"

"No, Ceena," she said, and allowed a small frown to line her face. "Did someone tell you that I might send you away?"

Ceena looked over at Jin again, clearly asking him what she should say, and he simply nodded. "I..."

"Please, Ceena," Andira said. "No one will get in trouble."

"The other students..." she said quietly. "And I heard them saying it before. The instructors. When they thought we were asleep. That I was on thin ice, so — so Master Jin had better figure something out."

Andira's frown went deeper. She would need to have a talk with them. She'd hired them more for their ability than their bedside manner, but that had clearly been a mistake. Scared students didn't learn well. "Thank you, Ceena," she said. "I'll look into that."

Ceena's legs were tucked under her chair, a nervous posture that Andira didn't particularly like. "And you really — you're not going to send me home?" she asked.

"Ceena," Andira said, "students are only dismissed from the learning center when they do not follow its tenets."

"Patience, kindness, duty, and respect," Ceena recited, and Andira raised her eyebrows. That had certainly been drilled into them. Good.

"All of you are very gifted here. That means that all of you will need to be very careful with your abilities once you grow older and have learned to use them. Part of that, though, is learning to ask for help when you need it," Andira said gently. "This could have been far worse than simply flowers."

Ceena nodded slowly. "Yes, Second."

"It also means that you will all need to learn empathy. I don't know what sector you'll decide to go into once you're trained, but I know that state-trained mages are often called on to help others where they are stationed. That will mean kindness and patience, yes, but also acceptance. There are many kinds of people in this country, Ceena, and one day they will all need you. They'll need all of you here."

Andira paused. "Master Jin," she said, "what do the students here learn of Ruling Second Andira?"

Jin's eyebrows went up. "They learn that you were handpicked as Second by the Ruling First herself after a stint in her personal guard. Your intelligence, honesty, and combat ability impressed her. We tell the students that you are measured and strict, but only because you wish to better our nation as best you can."

Andira smiled thinly. All that was likely more than she deserved. "And I will try to live up to that glowing endorsement, Master Jin. Do you tell them of my childhood?" she asked.

He hesitated. "No."

"I see." She let her smile go a little more true. "Please excuse me for my impropriety," she said, and then got to her feet so she could pull her tunic up over her head.

She heard Ceena gasp, and she wondered if it was because the Ruling Second was standing in her training room wearing only a breast band, or if it was because even now, after all these years, the scars were still hard to look at. They were impossible to miss, crisscrossing along her shoulders and chest, ropey and pale against her brown skin.

The scars still pulled a little, as they always did, as she finished removing her tunic and set it to the side. She massaged them every day with salve before bed, sometimes with Rian's help, but the damage had been extensive. She would never be as limber as she had been before the accident.

She looked at Ceena levelly. "The trick is," she said, "every day, I let them believe that I walk slowly because I am purposeful. Then on the days when I walk slowly because I hurt, they are none the wiser." She paused for a moment, letting Ceena take in the scars that traveled from her collar across to the opposite shoulder. And as improper as she was, she wasn't about to let the girl see the ones that stretched even lower. "My house burned down when I was a little younger than you are now."

"...I see," Ceena said, diplomatically, and Andira laughed loud and true to hear her own words repeated back to her.

"There are people like you and there are people like me, Ceena," Andira said, not allowing her smile to falter. "Who are strong and powerful and good, even if we are different. Suns above, there are so many kinds of people in this country. When I accepted my role as Ruling Second, I promised to make their lives better. And when you accepted your place at this training center, you promised to try and do the same. Didn't you?"

Ceena nodded, slowly. It had been part of the compact made when the court agreed to pay for all these students' living expenses for as long as they needed it. Andira had penned the agreement herself.

"Then we will need to change the way you are taught, Ceena," she said. "Just like I needed to change the way I was taught when I was learning to fight." Andira looked over at Jin, who had his eyes respectfully averted. "Master Jin. Please have a list of prospective hires for the magical researcher position in my hands by the end of the week. I trust you'll be able to find experts in this field."

"I already have, Second," he said. "We've been... We've been in communication."

"Good," Andira said. "That will make this process easier. Ceena?"

"Yes, Second?" Ceena asked. She was too young or too direct to look away, and Andira found that oddly refreshing.

"I am committed to protecting and supporting every kind of person in this country, and this learning center is one of my designs to do so. As such, this center will always have a place for all of those kinds of people, so long as they are willing to dedicate their talent to those who need it. Do you understand my meaning?"

Ceena nodded, her eyes going a little glossy. "Yes, Second."

"Good," she said, and reached for her tunic. "Unless you have any objection, I'll be by in a few weeks time to check on your progress."

Jin blinked. "Personally?" he asked.

"Personally," she said, as she pulled her clothing to rights. As Ruling Second, much of her responsibilities involved delegating. But perhaps she'd delegated a bit too much with her learning center. Perhaps she needed to be a little more hands-on with the education of her students. After all, each one of them was one of her hopes and dreams for the future of this country.

She eyed Ceena, who seemed a little poleaxed. "Do you have any more questions, Ceena?" she asked.

"I..." Ceena began, voice gone very small again. "Can I hug you?"

"Ceena—" Jin sputtered. He knew his place in this country's hierarchy. Even if his Second had just bared quite a bit of skin in front of him, he still knew what was proper.

Andira smiled. It was sort of nice to be around someone who hadn't yet learned what was proper. "Of course."

Ceena made a rough sound in the back of her throat and staggered forward out of her seat, wrapping her arms around Andira in a sort of lopsided hug that didn't feel nearly as awkward as it might have. Andira held her, remembering the way she'd felt when she was Ceena's age, not so long ago. After her parents had passed in the fire, there had been absolutely no one to hug her the way she'd desperately needed.

She remembered that gnawing loneliness, the fear that had clutched at her from the inside out, and she held Ceena close, ignoring the way Jin gaped at her from over the child's shoulder.

She wasn't so harsh as they all believed. The Ruling First had seen that in her. And when the two of them were together, late at night as they pored over paperwork in the palace, Daia had confessed that had been the real reason she had chosen Andira as her Second. Her vision, her dedication, and her deep compassion.

Andira tried to live up to that. She tried to live up to a lot of things. And though she'd hesitated to put that kind of responsibility on these students of all ages, she knew they were owed the chance to live up to those expectations as well. She patted Ceena's shoulders even as they shook, and thought to herself that perhaps the smartest thing to do right now was to believe in their infinite potential.

After all, she was the Ruling Second. Her job was their future.

"Andira, watch."

Andira crossed her arms in front of her, ignoring the slight twinge. "I am, child. What am I watching?"

Ceena stood out in the middle of the training field they'd booked for the day, and even Andira could tell that her stance was better. She had never exactly trained in magic, but she knew the way Ceena stood was more relaxed now. She didn't hunch in on herself like she used to. Instead, her hand moved with confidence, and her shorter arm moved in perfect concert. Their new hire had been doing their job.

"Look," Ceena said, and Andira looked.

Slowly, one by one, tiny white flowers poked up out of the soft spring grass, and Andira smiled. She'd always loved snowblooms. "I take it this was what you were trying to do in the first place?" she called.

Ceena nodded. "Aren't they pretty?"

"They're lovely," Andira replied. And powerful. Suns above. A child her age coaxing life. Who would have imagined it?

Ceena hesitated a moment, swaying on her feet. "It's good?" she finally asked.

Andira heard what was really being asked, and she smiled. "You did very well, Ceena," she said.

Ceena beamed, and Andira felt her heart grow warmer in her chest. It had taken Andira a long time before she could beam like that after the accident. It had been a long time before she'd met someone who could look at her and see exactly what she had to offer the world — and longer still before Andira had been able to listen to Daia's words and believe them.

That Ceena was learning so quickly, was developing both her magic and her self-confidence at such a staggering rate, made Andira sure for the first time that this learning center, despite its particular growing pains, was a perfect idea. They'd have so many students like Ceena. Their people would develop their strengths and learn to deal with their weaknesses, and Andira would oversee it all.

Andira grinned, sharklike, as she watched Ceena take a little bow. She loved being right.

[ko-fi]

#fic stuff #origific #this hasn't really been edited but it was also meant to be a ficlet so #cw:#ableism #description of scars and injuries #I was thinking about how magic users use their bodies in so many universes and I wondered how disability might play into that #and this happened so whoops #I realize that this could be interpreted like the government snatchin up kids but it's more like a scholarship program #for folks with potential -- even adults #andira hopes they'll go into community service and leadership positions #I just wanted to be clear lmao #long post

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princessweddingdresssweetheartne · 5 years ago

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duhragonball · 7 years ago

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[FIC] Luffa: The Legendary Super Saiyan (58/?)

Disclaimer: This story features characters and concepts based on Dragon Ball, which is a trademark of Bird Studio/Shueisha and Toei Animation. This is an unauthorized work, and no profit is being made on this work by me. This story is copyright of me. Download if you like, but please don’t archive it without my permission. Don’t be shy.

Continuity Note: About 1000 years before the events of Dragon Ball Z.

Previous chapters conveniently available here.

[26 July 236 Before Age. Interstellar Space]

The wedding had gone smoothly, more or less. Neither Luffa nor Zatte had any real interest in jewelry, so there were no rings. The only physical symbol of their union was an unremarkable printout of a marriage certificate issued by the county clerk of Hobstot III’s capital city. On the bridge of Luffa’s ship, Zatte sat at one of the crew stations with her feet on the console, and admired the paper copy with a contented grin.

The trip back to Luffasworld had been quiet. Dr. Topsas had retired to his guest quarters several hours ago. Keda had gone to bed as well, although she lived on the ship’s bridge, so she had curled up in the sleeping bag she had laid along one of the edges of the deck. She had planned to stay up longer and talk, but the long day had taken its toll on the young Dorlun.

This left Zatte alone with one of the only other guests for the ceremony. Wampaaan’riix was a Yetitan, a humanoid nine feet in height, covered in a thick coat of long white hair. He was a friend of Luffa’s, although Zatte had never met him. Now that he was here for a visit, she was determined to make up for lost time.

"I meant to ask about your garment?" he asked from his seat at the adjacent station. The chair was comically small for a creature of his size, but he seemed well-accustomed to such accommodations. "Is it traditional Dorlun attire?"

Zatte glanced down at the tailcoat she had laid on the floor. She had loosened her tie and unbuttoned her waistcoat, having intended to change clothes hours ago, but somehow she had never gotten around to it. None of it had been particularly comfortable, although she had to admit that it looked good.

"It’s traditional wedding attire on Hobstot," Zatte said. "Same as that big white dress Luffa had on. Fact is, Dorluns have a utilitarian attitude about clothing. I thought Saiyans were the same, but the wedding planner we went to showed us some pictures and Luffa just *had* to do it too."

"Interesting," Wampaaan’riix said. "I wouldn’t have thought her to be so sentimental."

"It always seems to come out when you least expect it," Zatte said. She looked at her marriage certificate again, running her finger over the embossed seal left by the notary public. "I guess I’m one to talk. I’ve been staring at this thing all night like I married it instead of her."

"It’s a token of a prize well-earned," Wampaaan’riix said. "We each cherish such triumphs in our own way. It would be more troubling if you didn’t."

"I suppose you’re right," Zatte said. "Listen, I want to thank you both for coming. Luffa was really excited to have you here for this."

"The honor is mine," Wampaaan’riix said solemnly. "And I had been promising to introduce my son to her for some time now. This seemed to be a perfect occasion."

"Introduce?" Zatte was confused. She had been under the impression that they had met before. "The way Luffa talked about your son, I thought they had known each other a long time."

"In a manner of speaking," Wampaaan’riix explained. "Earlier, we were discussing the time she and I fought, and how she inadvertently read my mind."

"Right, that was how she first found out she could do that sort of thing," Zatte said. "She’s gotten a lot better at it since then."

"Well, in that moment, she experienced a great deal of my memories firsthand," Wampaaan’riix said. "This left a lasting impression upon her. In a sense, she may feel very strongly about my family, as if they were her own..."

********

Below, in the yacht's dining hall, Luffa was surrounded by to-go boxes supplied by the company that had catered her wedding. Using a large spoon from the galley, she scooped portions from each one onto her plate, gobbled them down with relish, then grabbed a fistful of carved fowl to follow it up. She repeated this routine several times, occasionally pausing to drink from a large stein of ale. Every so often, she would lift one of the large swaths of fabric from her wedding gown and wipe sauce from her face.

Sitting beside her, Dewbaaac'nogg watched with admiration. Luffa had set a place for him and piled several servings of leftovers on his plate, but he had barely touched it.

"Are you sure you're not hungry, boy?" Luffa asked with her mouth full. "The reception was seven hours ago."

"Like, negatory," he said, doing his best to make a good impression. "I'm still stuffed from before, you dig?"

Luffa shrugged and continued eating. "Suit yourself, Dewbaaac'nogg. I don't see how anybody as big as you gets by on so little nourishment." She pointed her spoon at him and gave him a knowing look. "Especially when you're as strong as you are. Your old man told me how far along you've gotten in your training, but now that I can sense your ki for myself, I'm starting to think he was selling you short."

"Hey, no need to be so formal," he said. "I gave you the scoop when we met on Hobstot, chickadee," he said. "'Dewbaaac'nogg' is my A-plus appellation, but all my friends call me Dewbie!"

Her face had the same puzzled expression as the last three times he had told her this. "I'm still getting used to that," she said. "Same way I'm still getting used to the way you talk now, and all that yellow junk you put in your hair."

Dewbie reached into the fur on his shoulder and produced a small plastic comb, which he used on the tuft of hair on his scalp. "Don't dis the 'do, sister. This is the *style* on Yetitan. And it's a hip trend on a heapin' helpin' of other happenin' planets."

"I know," Luffa said, trying to contain her embarrassment. "I led a band of Extraligans into battle a few months back, and they all dyed their crest feathers bright yellow."

"Outta sight!" Dewbie exclaimed. "I heard about that, but I thought somebody was pullin' ol' Dewbie's leg!"

Luffa's exploits had earned her a fan following over the past two years. They seemed to come from all walks of life. Soldiers, athletes, activists, and anyone else looking for a symbol would adopt pieces of her appearance or mannerisms. The ones with hair on their heads would style it and color it to resemble her Super Saiyan form. Those with tails would use fluorescent dye to resemble the way her own tail glowed in the transformed state. People would adopt various catchphrases and inspirational quotes that were attributed to Luffa, even if she had never actually said them.

For his part, Dewbaaac'nogg had gotten in on the ground floor. His father had been absent for much of his life, preferring to seek his fortune on other worlds as a martial artist. By chance, a random encounter with Luffa had forced Wampaaan'riix to rethink his priorities. She defeated him with ease, but when she accidentally read his mind, she chose to spare his life. His vulnerabilities laid bare, Wampaaan'riix chose to reconnect with his family, and Dewbie had been grateful to Luffa ever since. When she became a celebrity, he became her number one fan on Yetitan. Not all of his friends believed him when he claimed she was a friend of his father, but he couldn't really blame them for being skeptical.

He had wanted to meet Luffa in person ever since, but he had to admit that she wasn't what he had expected. She looked very much like any ordinary Saiyan. Attending her wedding ceremony had been a great honor, but it also reminded Dewbie of his great aunt's third wedding last year. At least this time Dewbie hadn't been required to perform the role of standard bearer, but it still felt more like time spent with an obscure relative than a great hero. All Saiyans looked small to the giant Yetitans, but Luffa was even smaller still. Her hands would tremble sometimes, to the point where she would tuck them under her armpits or between her knees.

"Sorry," she said. "Most of what I know about you is from when I absorbed your dad's memories, and that's all two years out of date. A lot's changed since then, and I wasn't around to see it, so I'm still getting used to how you are now... Dewbie."

"No worries," Dewbie said, trying his best to stay casual. "Pops filled me in on that particular factoid on the way to Hobstot. Must be real gone to see me rocking this killer look and using all this hep lingo. I guess I used to be kind of a square back then."

"Hell no," Luffa said, her voice suddenly becoming serious. "The young man you used to be, well, he saved me once. You might look and talk different, and you've got a silly nickname, but what's important hasn't changed. Hah! Your heart's the same. That's what I need. That's why I'm hoping you'll be able to help me again."

He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but he was too stunned to speak. She was asking for his help?

Perhaps sensing his confusion, Luffa lowered her head and focused on her meal. "Skip it," she said. "This is a special occasion. I don't want to bring down the mood. We'll have plenty of time to go over it tomorrow, after your lesson."

There was something ominous about the way she used the word 'lesson'. That was the whole reason Dewbie had been excited for this trip. His father had kept up with Luffa through subspace correspondence, and she had asked to spar with Dewbie when his father thought he was ready. Her exact words had been: "Maybe I can give the kid some pointers." He had memorized that entire letter, but those eight words felt like they were etched onto his soul. His hero, the Legendary Super Saiyan, the most famous warrior in the galaxy was going to give him a private lesson. It was too good to be true.

And yet, now that he had finally heard her say the word aloud, Dewbie couldn't help but feel a sense of dread...

*******

[26 July 236 Before Age. Luffasworld.]

Luffa used an entire planet for her training ground. Since Planet Yetitan had a very cold climate, she had chosen a region near Luffasworld's southern pole for her session with Dewbie.

While there had only been six people aboard the star-yacht during its trip to and from the wedding, by mid-morning it had filled with all sorts of people, most of them either looking for Luffa or the ship's bridge. On his way to the galley for breakfast, he had passed a man in a wizard's cloak, two Plantians, and a crustacean-looking fellow in a military dress uniform. Eventually, he became frustrated with the crowds and his own anxious anticipation, so he flew to the rendezvous point a full hour ahead of schedule. He stretched and warmed up and meditated. An hour and twenty minutes later, Luffa arrived to meet him.

She was very apologetic about being late, and this bothered Dewbie far more than he lateness itself. It was almost as though she was his biggest fan, and not the other way around. His generation of Yetitans knew better than to get hung up on timetables, and he wasn't the sort of killjoy who would get bent out of shape over a twenty minute delay. Besides, she was a busy woman. It was an honor that she had set this time aside for him at all. He tried to tell her as much, but the message never seemed to get across. Also, she was still in her wedding gown from the night before, which seemed odd to him.

"Why not?" Luffa said with a shrug as she rotated her shoulder to limber up. "This getup looks good on me. Besides, I paid enough for the damn thing."

Once they began sparring, however, things fell more in line with his expectations. Dewbie's father had tried to prepare him for the Saiyan fighting style as best as he could, but ultimately the best advice Wampaaan'riix could give him was that there wasn't much use in seeking advice. The only way to truly understand was to experience it firsthand, and now Dewbie could see what he meant.

Luffa sparred in her base form, which was still more than powerful enough to kill Dewbie instantly. He knew she was holding back the vast majority of her strength for his sake, but even so, he still felt as though he was in a real fight and not a friendly exhibition. When she found an opening in his guard, she seized on it with almost sadistic glee. When he landed a punch on her solar plexus, he knew she had allowed him to do so, but she still glared at him as if he had tried to kill her, only to smile proudly at him an instant later.

"Do you trust me, Dewbie?" she asked between strikes.

Dewbie could only nod as he struggled to block. Little by little, she had turned up the pressure on him, forcing him to use more and more of his strength to keep up. As much as it had seemed like a real fight, she was only toying with him, but now Dewbie was fighting as hard as he would have been in actual combat.

He had seen her transform before. Not in person, of course, but a handful of lucky spectators had managed to record her in the act, and their blurry, grainy footage had become an instant hit among the Luffa enthusiasts across the galaxy. He expected her to build up to it, but instead she simply grunted and flashed bright yellow without breaking the rhythm of her strikes. One second she was dark haired with brown eyes, and in the next she was blonde with green eyes. Only it wasn't exactly blonde and green. The colors were more vivid. It was unsettling to look at her, and Dewbie was unprepared for how strange it was up close.

He forced himself to stay focused, and as they continued, he realized to his amazement that she was staying focused too. He could feel how much stronger her ki had become, but she was still holding her strength to the same level she had been using before. Dewbie's father had suggested to him that she didn't have this sort of fine control over her forms, but that must have changed.

"Don't slow down now, boy," she said with a grin. "This was how you wanted it, right?"

It was. Before, he thought she was using her base form for his safety, but now he could see that she could have sparred with him this way from the start. The thrill and the honor was greater, but she wanted him to work for it, and now that she had transformed, she wanted him to push himself harder to extend the experience. He didn't know how much longer he could keep going, but he was determined to find out.

And then, after what seemed like an eternity, he succumbed to fatigue. When he could no longer block Luffa's strikes, she landed five blows to his midsection and shoulders. They felt surprisingly gentle, but they somehow managed to disrupt all the ki energy in his body, and he collapsed to his knees onto the glacier that had been their battlefield. He leaned forward and planted his hands on the ice as well, struggling to catch his breath.

"Well done," Luffa said. He thought she might have been smiling, but all he could see at the moment were the toes of her black combat boots peeking out from under her wedding dress. He tried to raise his head to look up at her, and then she cried out. "Hey, don't move!"

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen, like a muscle spasm. Dewbie clutched at his gut, wondering what had happened, though he suspected that there was some sort of delayed effect to the last attack Luffa had used on him.

"Are you okay?" Luffa asked, kneeling down to check on him. "Dammit, that was just supposed to knock you down, but if I used too much pressure I might have hurt a vital organ--"

"I'm... aces, honest," Dewbie assured her. "Just need... a sec to... get my groove back."

"Don't try to tough it out, son" she scolded him. "I can get you back to the ship in no time, and Doc can... can..."

She had put her hand on his massive shoulder, and now he could feel it begin to tremble. She drew it back quickly and held it tightly in her other hand.

"You... almost sounded... like Daddio there, champ," Dewbie said. "I guess when you read... my pop's noggin, some of the pages must have rubbed off on you."

Luffa sighed and sat down on the ice. "You don't know how right you are," she said. "Thanks to that botched mind link with your father, I sort of think of you as my own kid. I mean, not really. I know better, but I have to keep reminding myself you're not a child. Hell, you're only a few years younger than me. You're old enough to decide if you need medical treatment."

"Hey, no problemo," Dewbie said. "I figured that might have had something to do with you invitin' me out to your pad. Me and my pops are like family."

"It's more than that," Luffa said. "You saved me."

"Whuh-huh?"

She hesitated, then gritted her teeth and just started blurting it all out. "When I first fought your father, Dewbie... well, I was pregnant. Not very far along, of course. I didn't know about it myself at the time. By the time I found out, the Tikosi were experimenting on me. It would have been a boy. Your father helped me escape, but by the time he got there, the Tikosi had already removed the fetus."

"Pops never told me that part," Dewbie said solemnly. "That's heavy. I'm sorry."

"I never told your father. It's... not something I talk about much. It's painful to think about. That's why the Makyans tried to use it against me."

"Wait, wait. Time out. The which?" Dewbie asked.

"A race of demons," Luffa explained. "They used a magic potion to try to control me. It played on my most selfish desire, which was to forget about the pain and shame of losing my baby. I was strong enough resist it, but I couldn't make myself want to."

"Farrrrr out... Well, how'd you squeeze out of that one?"

Luffa looked at him and smiled. "As much as I wanted to, I couldn't just forget what had happened to me. That boy would have grown up to be a mighty Saiyan, and my soul wouldn't rest until I had avenged him. So my most selfish desire was to have my son back, and the Makyans couldn't give him to me. They could only make me forget. It started to drive me nuts. I started seeing hallucinations of my friends, all of 'em trying to convince me to snap out of it. Instead, I... well, I killed them all. Then I hallucinated you. I tried to kill you too, only I couldn't go through with it."

"Because once you got an eyeful of my handsome mug, it reminded you of your unborn son," Dewbie realized.

"Exactly," Luffa said. "Once I came to my senses... Let's just say it'll be a long time before the Makyans try to pull that crap with anyone else."

Dewbie was curious about details of Luffa's wrath, but something told him it was better that he didn't ask.

"After that, I was kind of upset about killing those hallucinations," Luffa went on. "I got in touch with your old man, just so I could sleep better. He told me that the two of you had gone on a mission to save his old martial arts master. It was for your rite of ascension. Way I hear it, you did really well."

"Well, I couldn't let pops take all the risk for himself," Dewbie said modestly. "I mean, what kind of a swingin' son would I be then?"

"That's why I invited you here, Dewbie," Luffa said. "I need you to help me with something. I think you're the only one I can turn to."

"You gave me that rap before," Dewbie said. "And ol' Dewbie's keen to lend a hand, but I don't see what good I can do."

Luffa stood up and balled her fists. "I'll show you," she said. "First I have to raise my power level."

With that, she began to scream, and a golden aura flashed around her body.

********

For a moment, bright yellow light was all Dewbie could see. When it finally faded, he looked around and couldn't believe his eyes.

They had been alone on the glacier, he was sure of that, but now they were surrounded by hundreds--no, thousands--of alien beings. They were grey, androgynous humanoids covered in blue and purple markings. They carried unfamiliar tools and rode strange vehicles along the surface of the glacier and through the sky. In the distance, he could see a fortress. Dewbie had never seen a species like them before, but there was no mistaking their behavior.

They were fighting a war.

In spite of their fierce combat, he couldn't really tell if there was any malice to their actions. It was hard to interpret their body language at all. That was when Dewbie finally realized that he couldn't hear them. For all their activity, there was no sound at all.

A pair of the creatures ran right up to him. One was chasing the other. At last the one being pursued turned and made what Dewbie thought could have been a desperate last stand. Before he could bring his weapon to bear, his enemy opened fire, and he fell silently to the ice. A pale grey liquid oozed from his still-smoking wound, but before the fallen warrior died, he managed to return fire with his own weapon, and killed his pursuer in turn. Then a bomb fell from the sky, and their corpses were disintegrated where they lay.

None of it made a sound. The only thing Dewbie could hear was the wind, and the constant, steady thrum of Luffa's Super Saiyan aura. He turned and saw her standing stoically in the center of it all. A troop convoy drove by and passed right through her. She looked at him, and seemed visibly relieved.

"Good," she said. You can see them too. I was afraid I'd be the only one. I never told the others about them. They worry about me enough as it is. If they heard me talking about ghosts, they'd think I was completely crazy."

"Wh-what's the dillio?" Dewbie asked.

"On this planet, when I increase my power to a certain level, all of this appears," she said, gesturing at the battle surrounding them. "At first, I thought I was just seeing things. My powers kind of tie into my emotions, and I've been pushing things pretty hard since I got here. Eventually, I figured out that it's not my imagination. They only show up on this planet, and only for as long as I raise my ki to this point. Early on, this level was near my absolute limit, so I'd only catch glimpses of them. As I trained and got stronger, I was able to hold this level for a long time, and then I could see them whenever I wanted, for as long as I wanted."

Dewbie reached out to touch another creature that had approached them. His hand passed through its chest, but it seemed to stare right at him, as if it could see him. "What are they?" he asked. "Why are they fighting?"

"They're robots," Luffa said. "Well, that's my best guess. They move like machines, and there's something artificial about their faces, like someone was trying to make them look like flesh-and-blood people, but not too closely.

"They were soldiers. Could be that someone created them to fight their battles for them, but they're not just automated weapons. I've been watching them for a while, and I can tell they're intelligent. I don't know what they're fighting over, but they did it all over the world. Every time I see them, they're always fighting some giant battle. It's different everywhere I go. When I'm over the oceans, they've got boats and planes. When I'm in the desert, they have tanks. In the mountains, they've got snipers. Out here, it's mostly infantry. I guess they don't mind the cold, so it's easier for them to travel in the snow on foot than to use any vehicles."

"But what good's it do 'em to fight over a planet they can't even touch?" Dewbie asked. He pointed at the area where the phantom bomb had exploded. It had destroyed the robots, but the ice they were laying upon was untouched.

"They're all dead," Luffa said darkly. "Those two you saw kill each other a minute ago? I've been here before, and I've seen them do that a dozen times or more. They all look a lot alike, but I can tell by the markings on their bodies. They indicate their ranks and identifications somehow. They look alike, but they're still individuals. You can tell them apart if you know what to look for.

"What we're seeing is a war they fought on this planet a long time ago. They all died, and for whatever reason their ghosts are still playing out the same battles over and over again. At least, that's all I've managed to find out from them."

"You mean you're hip to their lingo?"

"Not exactly," Luffa said. She tapped her finger against the side of her head. Normal Saiyans have some telepathic abilities, but ever since I first met your father, I've been finding new ways to use them. When I'm ramped up enough to see these guys, I start to sense their energy, too. And when I really concentrate, it's like I can feel their emotions. But it's really faint, and I can't make much sense out of it. There's so many of them, and they're so... well, different."

"Different?"

"They don't seem to feel the same things that you or I would. You and I are aliens to each other, and there's other life forms that are even stranger, but we all know what it's like to be hungry or tired or scared. These robots, whatever they are, they're not like that at all. I can't really tell how they feel. They're just sort of... dissatisfied."

By now, other robots had abandoned their endless battle to approach Luffa and Dewbie. Dewbie tried to see what Luffa was talking about in their expressions, but it was useless. They simply looked at him blankly with their enigmatic blue eyes. One of them had a large wound on its head, and grey liquid was seeping out of it at an alarming rate, but it paid no heed to this. Was the injury just not that serious, or did the robot somehow know that it was already dead? Did it mind?

"I got interested in their battle, so I started exploring the planet, looking for clues," Luffa said. "The people who sold me this place said it was uninhabited, and there was no sign of even an ancient civilization. But I saw them using a huge aircraft carrier in the ocean once, and when I went diving in the same place, I found a coral reef about the same size and shape. In the desert, I turned up some scrap metal that could have been those pikes some of them carry around. So I'm pretty sure this war they fought happened a really long time ago. Like, hundreds of thousands of years. Plenty of time for nature to recover from the damage they did, and erase any evidence of the battle."

She smiled sadly. "It's beautiful, really. These guys really tore this place up. They fought like true warriors, every last one of them, and they're still fighting, long after their cause was forgotten. It's been an honor to watch them go at it, but I'm not sure they feel the same way. That's why I need your help.

"The trouble is that I think these guys want

help, but I'm not sure what I should do. I just know they're dissatisfied, but I don't know why. Maybe they just didn't like how the war turned out, or they want the universe to remember them for their bravery. One night I was talking to my wife about how Doc doesn't like to fight, and I wondered if maybe these robots are the same way. What if they were forced into this, and now they're stuck reliving this same battle over and over?"

"Heavy..." was all Dewbie could say.

"Or maybe they're like the Dorluns, and they're just grateful that they somehow managed to continue to exist. For all I know, they're not dead, and this is totally normal for them. Maybe they're like me, and they're being forced into some new form they don't understand. It might be good for them, and they don't even know it."

The creatures continued to stare at them, their expressions as mysterious as ever. What had Dewbie's attention now was the troubled look on Luffa's face when she looked at them. She didn't look like any Saiyan he'd ever seen.

"I... envy you guys, you know?" she finally said.

"Come back?" Dewbie asked.

"Doc’s not even a fighter, but he’s done braver things than I’ll ever do. And Keda and Zatte, and you and your father, you all earned the power you have."

She pointed at her hair and shook her head. "I didn’t do anything to end up like this. It just happened. Maybe the Tikosi forced my body to evolve, or I was born with this ability, but either way it was dumb luck. I have the power to decide the fate of these ghosts, but I don’t think I have the right."

She took Dewbie’s hand in both of hers. "I know about the Yetitan rites. You had to prove yourself as an adult warrior. It’s mostly ceremony, but it’s still proof. I’m proud of you for that. I guess that’s why I’m asking for your help."

Luffa pointed at the spirits that had gathered around her aura. "I have the power to disperse these phantoms, but I don't know whether or not I should. Tell me what you think I should do with these guys, and I’ll do it."

"That’s a real heavy load, pal-o-mine," Dewbie said. "I dig that you don’t want to make that call by your lonesome. Makes sense to get an extra pair of peepers on the scene, and make sure you’re on the beam, but what good does it do to have me take the wheel?"

"I know it’s a lot to ask," Luffa said. "And there’s no way to know if you’ll be making the right decision, but I know you and I know your heart's in the right place. Whatever you come up with, right or wrong, at least it'll be honorable."

"Heavy," Dewbie muttered. "I mean real heavy. I hope you’re not in a rush, ’cause this little Yetitan’s gonna have to do some first-class thinkin’ on this one. Like, real Grade A, you dig?"

"Take your time, Dewbie." Luffa said. "I can hold this power level for a while. I can do that much at least, no problem."

Dewbie nodded and sat down on the ground. As he considered the dilemma, the ghosts continued to gather around them, and some of them started to lose their shape. They floated and swirled around Dewbie and Luffa, making gestures he could not begin to understand. Beside him, Luffa grimaced and her aura continued to flash and hum.

*******

Some time later, Dewbie broke his silence to ask a question: "Luffa, you need to take five?"

"I’m fine," she said.

"Roger that, mama bear, I know my fave can handle anything, but I’ve been at this a while..."

She shook her head. "I told you to take your time, boy. It’s.... important."

"I dig, but my noggin’ can tackle this without the visuals for a while."

"No," Luffa said. "It’s bad enough I’m asking you to decide this for me. The least I can do for these people is make them visible, so you can see what’s on the line."

"No kiddin’, huh? This must be that Saiyan pride I heard so much about."

She looked at him and smiled. "You’re damned right," she growled.

He looked at her, and considered the grim determination on her face. He had no idea what her limits were. The only being in the galaxy stronger than Luffa was the Shockmaster, and she was determined to surpass him. For all Dewbie knew, she already had. He didn't know how much longer she could maintain her current power level, but sooner or later she would succumb to fatigue just as he had done during their sparring session. The point Luffa wanted to impress upon him then was not to hold out forever, but simply to last as long as he could, and then a little bit longer, and then a little bit longer than that.

That was why Saiyans like Luffa seemed to treat their sparring matches like genuine combat. Luffa vs. Dewbie was a complete mismatch, but that wasn't the point. The point was to force Dewbie to confront himself, and Dewbie vs. Dewbie was a lifelong rivalry. In the long run, it was the only rivalry that really mattered for him.

"You'd do this all day long if you had to," Dewbie observed.

Luffa's only reply was to scrunch up her face and ball her fists tighter.

"Well, you can cool it," Dewbie said, "because I’m all through thinkin’. It’s decision time, and ol’ Judge Dewbie’s ready to rule."

Luffa sighed with relief, but didn't relax her energy. "Thanks," she said. "What’ll it be?"

Dewbie rose to his feet and took a deep breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I’m leavin’ it up to you." he said.

She glared at him, her face revealing some of the fatigue she had been trying to conceal. "Dewbie, I’m serious--"

"Well that makes two of us, ’cause I'm serious too."

"Dammit!" she shouted, and her aura flared up in size. The ground shook beneath Dewbie’s feet. He wobbled slightly, but maintained his footing, and kept his eyes on Luffa. He didn’t expect her to attack, and there wasn't much he could do about it if she actually did, but he was trained to anticipate the possibility regardless.

She waved her hands at the silent images that were watching them. "Don’t you get it?" she demanded. "These people need an answer, Dewbie! They’ve been waiting for one long enough, haven’t they? Can’t you see that?!"

"Course I can. Like, twenty-twenty, even."

Her hands were trembling as she gestured wildly at him. "Don’t you care what happens to them?!"

"Totally, my dude."

"Then why won’t you decide?" Luffa demanded. Dewbie could see tears welling up in her eyes.

"Because you care about ’em even more than I do."

Luffa was stunned to hear this. "What?"

"You’ve been pushin’ yourself to the limit this whole time, just so you could find out what was wrong with these peeps," Dewbie explained. "And you were so worried about checkin’ the wrong box on what to do for ’em, you stood here and strained yourself for an hour while you waited for me to figure somethin’ out."

"I’m not straining myself," Luffa insisted. "I told you I can keep this level up for--"

"--for as long as it takes, yeah, I heard this song before, mama bear," Dewbie said. "But why should you lift the proverbial finger, unless you were worried about these guys?"

"I just... I feel bad for them, okay?" Luffa said. "And I need the workout anyway, so what’s the harm?"

"You wanted me to make the call because you thought I’d make an honorable decision," Dewbie said, "But *nobody’s* honored these far out groovy ghoulies more than you. If anyone’s got the right to decide their fate, it’s you, lady."

"But... I’m not... You were the one who..."

He shook his head. "I know you had that real bad trip, and you got back into your groove when you had a way-out vision of me," Dewbie said. "But I’m thinkin’ what you really saw back then wasn't me, or even your own son. What you saw was your conscience."

"My...?"

"Sure," Dewbie said. He raised an eyebrow and began to stroke his hairy chin. "Every cat and kitten in the universe has one, you know. Just so happens your conscience just looks a little handsomer than most folks’."

"What if you’re wrong?!" Luffa asked.

"You brought me in on this because you trusted me to make the best call, didn’t you?" Dewbie said with a shrug. "Well my call is for you to trust your lonesome. My call is that you’ve known that from the get-go, but maybe you needed to hear someone else say it."

Luffa turned away from him. "Maybe I did," she said. "No matter what I do, we’ll never know for sure if it was right. I just have to do the best I can."

"Sounds like the sort of rap I had to learn for the manhood rites on Yetitan," Dewbie said. "Maybe you had it wrong, and you really did earn your power somewhere along the way. You might've took a different route, but your boots are just as worn as mine. Well, I don't wear kicks myself. Ol' Dewbie likes to keep things natural, if you know what I mean."

She looked at her hands, then clenched them into fists. "Brace yourself," she said. "This shouldn’t take long."

"What are you gonna do?" Dewbie asked.

"What I should have done from the start," Luffa said. "Thanks, boy. Thanks for giving me a swift kick in the butt."

She summoned her ki, and Dewbie crossed his arms in front of his face as her aura produced a terrible wind. Around them, the spirits streaked through the air, wailing silently, and making their incomprehensible gestures.

In the center of it all, Luffa screamed. She put her fingers against her head, and Dewbie suspected that she was in pain. In spite of his advice, he still had an impulse to reach out, to try and help her somehow, but he knew better. Even if he knew what to do for her, even if he had the power, it was better this way.

So instead he concentrated his ki on protecting himself, and he admired his hero, his father’s friend, his friend, who loved him like a son.

And when she was finished, and she powered down her her normal form, and the ghosts vanished, and she fell to her hands and knees, only then did Dewbaaac’nogg rush to her aid, scooping her up like a Yetitan cub in his massive arms.

*******

Thousands of miles away, Luffa lay on a beach, massaging her scalp. She opened her eyes and found Dewbie looming over her, his white fur soggy from swimming. With all of his hair matted down, he looked much slimmer than usual. The hair on his head had gone limp, but the dye had somehow managed to resist the effects of the seawater. In his hand he held a large fish.

"Figured you'd want some chow," he said cordially.

Luffa sat up and ripped the fish out of his hand, then started ripping it to pieces with her hands and teeth. Dewbie was unnerved, but pleased to see he his fishing expedition had been worth the trouble. In a matter of minutes there was nothing left of his catch but bones and sraps of connective tissue.

"Thanks," Luffa said. She grabbed the hem of her wedding gown and wiped the blood from her mouth. “Thanks for everything.”

"What's your twenty?" Dewbie asked. "Feelin' any better?"

"My head is killing me," Luffa groaned. "I'm starting to think I only held off for so long because I knew how hard it would be."

"But it did the trick, right?" Dewbie asked hopefully. "That crazy psychic power you used fed the bulldog, didn't it?"

"I think so," Luffa said wearily. She snapped a small rib bone off the fish's skeleton and started picking her teeth with it. "I used something similar when I broke the spell the Makyans used on me. As I pushed against the robots to destroy them, I could get a better connection with their emotions. So at least I got a better understanding of them."

She turned her head and spit on the sand. "I'm not gonna pretend I have all the answers, but I think they understood what I was doing and why. It may not have been what they needed, but I think they knew this was the best ending they could get. Someone else might have come along who could really help them, but who knows how long they'd have to wait. I'm pretty sure they were tired of waiting. I don't know."

"Maybe we oughta boogie on back to your ship," Dewbie suggested. "We both went through the ringer today. Even if it's nothing serious, might not be bad to have Doc Topsas give us the once-over."

Luffa nodded, and opened her mouth as if to agree, and then she stopped short. "No," she said. "We can't do that. Not for a while, anyway. Doc's... uh... well, he's busy."

"Busy?"

Luffa's face and ears had turned red. "That's why I was late meeting up with you," she said. "We had a situation back at the house, and..."

*******

Aboard Luffa’s star-yacht, Dr. Topsas carefully ran his fingers over Zatte’s left hand. Satisfied with the tactile examination, he moved on to her thoracic wall, then consulted a set of scans of her skeleton.

"Fortunately, the Plantians have stocked the ship's sickbay with a generous supply of superpolymorphic unleashing gel," he said cheerfully. "So if something like this ever happens in the future, you can repair a cracked rib or a sprained wrist in a fraction of the time it would normally take."

Gingerly, Zatte sat up from the examination tabled and sighed. "I'll keep that in mind, doctor," she said.

"Are you feeling all right, Ms. Zatte?" he asked.

"Still a little sore, but a lot better than I was two hours ago," she said. "Uh... thanks for not asking how this happened. The whole thing’s silly and Luffa’s even more embarrassed about it than I am... "

"Say no more, Ms. Zatte” Topsas said. “I was a young newlywed myself once..."

NEXT: Shock to the System.

#dragon ball #fanfiction #super saiyan #luffa #dewbaaac'nogg #wampaaan'riix #zatte #dr topsas #luffasworld #lssjluffafic

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zacknano17 · 7 years ago

Text

Day 3: words 5092 - 7633

In which, Taako makes a friend. (No, he doesn’t.)

“You can put 'em in the corner over there,” Taako says, gesturing. He's sitting on the bed, paging through the room service catalog, not really paying Magnus any mind.

Magnus does so, and he thinks he ought to leave the room now. Instead, he pauses. “You're not still mad about me not wanting to think we were a thing, are you?” he asks.

“Nah, homie.” Taako still isn't looking at him. “We're not a thing, so why would I be mad? I just didn't like the implication that I'm an undatable hellion.”

“You're -- what? No. That isn't what I meant!”

“Yeah, I got that.” Taako doesn't sound angry, but he does seem a little miffed. “It's fine, dude. I ain't even mad.”

“I'm sure you could get like a hundred people to agree to marry you, just by giving them a little glance. You're like, the prettiest elf in the world.”

Taako pushes his hat up a little bit, an almost subconscious motion. There's only the smallest change in his expression, but Magnus can tell he's improved Taako's mood a little. “Top five percent, I'd say,” he agrees. “Really, though, don't worry about it, big guy. Ch'boy's not exactly the marrying type either.”

“Oh.” Magnus is. Was.

Taako's eyes focus on Magnus' hand for a moment, and he adds, “...anymore?”

Magnus runs his thumb over the groove in his ring finger absently. So Taako had noticed.

He never really intended to keep Julia a secret. He just doesn't really relish the idea of talking about her. He had lost her a few years ago now, but it still feels like an open wound on his heart. Talking about her, thinking about her, all of that -- it is still painful.

“Yeah. I, uh. She died,” he says.

He can almost see the light bulb go on over Taako's head. “Julia,” he says.

Oh, shit. Does he talk in his sleep or something? “How did you -- ”

“You asked Kravitz to tell Julia you loved her,” Taako explains, shrugging. “I was thinking sister at the time for some reason. I guess wife would make as much sense.”

For as dumb as Taako pretends to be sometimes, he sure is good at putting things together.

Magnus sits down on the bed next to Taako. “I used to be a carpenter,” he explains, knotting his fingers together. “I had a mentor, and he had a daughter. Julia. Then the, ah, the village got attacked while I was gone once, and when I came back, I...didn't have either of them anymore.”

Taako is quiet for a long moment. “...sucks, dude,” he says.

Magnus laughs. It's not a happy laugh, just a sort of rueful sound, acknowledging the truth in Taako's words. “Yeah,” he agrees.

They sit in silence for a moment, and Magnus thinks again that he ought to leave. He doesn't. Instead, he asks, “What about you? You could have anybody you wanted, probably, but I don't see you go on many dates.”

“Eh, been out of the dating scene for a while. My last relationship ended...bad,” Taako says. “I haven't been real eager to jump aboard that train again. There's a lot of trust issues with that sort of shit. Namely, I don't trust anybody.”

“I can see that being a problem, yeah,” Magnus agrees. “You don't even trust me and Merle?”

“Hell no,” Taako replies emphatically. “Everybody up and leaves eventually. It's just the way things are. You either get left behind, or you're the one who leaves. No way around it, homie.”

“You really think I'm gonna just up and leave you behind someday?” Magnus asks.

Taako gives him a look. Magnus isn't sure what emotion is meant to be conveyed by it. He looks irritated, but there's another part of him that just looks...very old and withered. “You're a human. You've got like, what, a hundred years left?” he asks.

“Well, uh, no, more like fifty, actually,” Magnus says, but he gets the point. Sometimes he forgets that Taako is well over a hundred years old.

Taako stands up and makes his way over to the suitcases, very clearly done with the conversation, and drags it over to the bed. “I guess with the asshole brigade backing me up, we're going to be staying a while, huh?” he comments as he opens it up. “Might as well unpack.”

It's a dismissal if Magnus ever heard one, and he's not sure how much more of Taako's depressing world view he can stomach right now anyway, so he stands up. His thumb rubs away at that groove on his ring finger again, and he considers.

“You know, if I had known I was going to lose Julia so soon...I think I'd have held on more tightly,” he says.

“Yeah,” Taako says flippantly, “cause you're an idiot.”

In spite of being a current hot spot for aspiring spouses all over Faerun, the building that houses Wedding Wonders is modest and in a rather obscure location. The three of them have had no trouble finding it, however. It seems as though everyone knows where it is and how to get there, even people who would seem to have no use for a wedding planner.

Wedding Wonders is run out of a large, old fashioned house just off the business district of Waterdeep. Ms. Joiner works and lives in the same building, it seems; she has not bothered to move to a more convenient location, although she surely has the means to do so, with how well her business is doing.

The people of Waterdeep are more than happy to spread rumors about the business and its proprietor. They learn quickly that Ms. Joiner has so many clients that she has to turn down people frequently. There seems to be no rhyme or reason how she picks her patrons. Oftentimes wealthy families will offer her higher payments and other benefits, and she will turn them down in favor of a poorer couple without any explanation.

Upon further discussion, the Tres Horny Boys have decided that Merle's job hunt bluff is as good a story as any. The only other idea they have come up with involves a lot of stealth, and none of them are really looking forward to trying that one, even the Ruff Boi and Level 2 Rogue himself, Magnus Burnsides.

Taako's last job interview had involved getting punched so hard by an ogre that he had nearly died. He hopes that this one will be less strenuous.

He has dressed for the occasion in purples and blues, with a flowing skirt that reaches his ankles and a loose, translucent blouse over a form fitting long sleeved black shirt, and silver pumps with three inch heels. He fancies up his hair with some elaborate braiding techniques that Magnus is very good at for some reason and puts on his best set of silver jewelry. He looks positively dashing. Too bad he has to hide it a bit by using the umbra staff, this time as a sunbrella. It is still not a great idea to get recognized.

Merle is wearing a Fantasy Hawaiian t-shirt with a small stain right in the front that isn't quite hidden by his beard. He is wearing what he calls “capris,” but look as though they are actually just a pair of Magnus' old cargo shorts that have been repurposed for dwarf legs. He is wearing socks with sandals. This is his normal look. The only difference between this and their trip to Goldcliffe is that he has his X-treme Teen Bible in hand rather than tucked away safely in his pack until it is needed.

Magnus is wearing the same thing he wore yesterday, unless he packed an identical outfit. He has buttoned an extra button at the top, for...respectability, maybe? He is even carrying his shield and axe still, and Steven bumps along at his hip. Charming.

They reach the old house and Taako leads the way within, the umbra staff now doubling as a very fancy cane. The front door leads into a room that seems to have been repurposed from a sitting room. The room is papered in a lovely rose decal, garnished by heavy velvet curtains that block view of the adjoining rooms. The floor is a dark wood, covered by a large, tasseled rug. The walls display pictures in heavy golden frames of various couples in formal clothing, presumably couples that have been married through the Wedding Wonders company.

At the far end of the room is an intricately carved wooden desk, stained a dark color to match the floor. It is covered in neat stacks of paper, a few books, an ink well, and a large feather quill. Behind the desk sits the fanciest orcish man Taako has ever seen, complete with neatly combed hair, a neat suit jacket and tie, and a pince-nez on his nose, attached to his vest pocket with a slender golden chain.

He stands up from the desk when he sees the three of them enter in. He is easily seven feet tall and makes even Magnus look very small. “Greetings, and welcome to Wedding Wonders,” he says, his voice thick with a pleasant accent that Taako can't quite place. “My name is Salvatore. How might I assist you today?”

“Hello, darling, a pleasure to meet you,” Taako rattles off. This orc seems to be dripping with his very brand of fake charm, and he appreciates that. “My name is Taako -- you might recognize me from TV -- and we're here to offer you a once in a lifetime premium offer. That's right, my good man, I am offering you the chance to have my fabulous self -- and these two imbeciles as well, I suppose -- help you staff the newly anticipated expansion to your lovely business.

“As I mentioned, you may already recognize me from my show? On TV? You know the one. I'm absolutely certain I could bring in a number of promising clientele. Your quaint little business here fills a very specific niche, but one our society didn't know needed filling. And I am proposing you open up a branch in -- wait for it -- Neverwinter. That's right, the capital of the world. My man, Wedding Wonders is going places, and I, Taako, plan to take you there.

“Now, could you be a dear and let Ms. Jer -- J...um, the lady in charge here?”

“Ms. Joiner,” Salvatore says.

“Yes, yes. Of course. You'll have to excuse me, I meet so many people. Ms. Joiner. If you could just let her know I'm here to see her? Me, Taako, from TV? Thank you, sweetheart. I'll wait right here.”

Salvatore has not changed his mild, politely interested expression through the entire speech. He merely inclines his head slightly when Taako finishes. “We here at Wedding Wonders do sincerely appreciate your enthusiasm,” he says, “but I'm afraid Ms. Joiner only meets with potential business partners by appointment. Even ones as undoubtedly important as you are, good sir.”

“I think you might be underestimating how much Ms. J is going to want to -- ”

“Furthermore, sir, I know of no such plans to expand the business. As much as the 'niche' we fill requires that filling, Ms. Joiner can hardly take on more clients than she already does. As it is, people travel from all over Faerun for our services, and another branch, even one in a lucrative location such as Neverwinter, would only serve to disappoint the many, many clients we cannot accommodate.”

“I'm sorry, perhaps I didn't make myself clear, but I'm Taako? You know, from -- ”

“And it is fantastic to meet you in person, sir, but I'm afraid you will have to schedule an appointment, like everyone else,” Salvatore continues. He sits down again at the desk and pulls out a book labeled 'Appointments.' He flips through it, and continues to flip, and continues for a few moments. “Here we are, we have an opening for three months from now, in -- ”

Taako slams a hand down on the book. “Taako. From TV. I want an appointment this afternoon. Make it happen.” He will not be outdone by this fucker. He will not.

“If you give me your Stone of Farspeech frequency, I can alert you if we have an opening this afternoon, but I'm very sorry. Ms. Joiner won't even return to the office until -- ”

“I will wait, then.”

“Very well, sir.” Salvatore closes the appointment book and goes back to the stack of papers he had been regarding when the three of them had entered.

“Um, excuse me, sir -- ” Magnus tries.

“Shut it, Mango, I've got this,” Taako snaps. “Listen. My good man. My entourage here and I will need a place to...rest until the Lady J-dawg makes it back from her...whatever she's doing, at which time you'll of course let her know I'm here. Do you have a sitting room or something?”

Taako feels a rush of satisfaction as he notices that the orc's eyebrow is twitching, just a little. At fucking last, he is finally getting to this guy.

“Yes, of course,” Salvatore says, standing again. “Right this way, gentlemen.”

He leads the three of them to one of the curtained off rooms and pulls back the drape. Within is a sitting room, fancy as the rest of the house that they had seen thus far. It contains two uncomfortable looking sofas facing one another with a low coffee table in between and two chairs on the far end, all matching. The walls here have more portraits with more couples at their weddings.

“Feel free to make yourselves comfortable. We do not offer a tea service or anything, I'm afraid,” Salvatore says, gesturing into the room.

“Barbarians,” Taako mutters under his breath as he glides within. He has the satisfaction of seeing that eyebrow twitch yet again. Now it's personal, Salvatore.

“Fat load of good that did us,” Merle grumbles in a stage whisper, once Salvatore is out of direct hearing distance.

“Yeah. I mean, that was some nice fast talking there, Taako, but there's no way he's actually going to tell us when she gets back,” Magnus says, sitting down on one of the sofas.

“Exactly,” Taako remarks. He settles down demurely in one of the chairs, crossing his ankle over his knee. “We learned two things here today. First of all, the big lady in charge isn't currently in the building, which means right now might be an optimal time to scope out the place.”

“Oooh, sounds like a job for Mr. Level 2 Stealthy here,” Merle suggests.

“That's good and all, but that Salvatore guy is still out front,” Magnus points out. “That dude's even more stacked than I am, which is sayin' something. How'm I gonna get past him?”

“Oh, I'm sure I can distract him,” Taako snorts.

“Okay, okay, this sounds pretty good. I can help Taako out a bit too, buy Magnus some time,” Merle says. “But there's just one thing. What's the second thing? You said we learned two things.”

Taako shrugs. “Guys, I don't think they're hiring.”

#tying the nano

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