>>3734252
>'Don't take it to heart, I'm just a cynic for the sake of it.' (Dismissive)
>'I don't know how to answer that, really.' (Clueless)
>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)
>'I'm ... not that cynical. I'm just not confident that your method's going to bear any fruit.' (Frustrated)
>'You can convince more people with blackmail and a rigged wire than a datapad of facts and calculations. It's just the way of things.' (Arrogant)
>'I just don't want you to be disappointed.' (Friendship)
>Write-In

>>3734260
>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

>>3734260
>>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

>>3734260
>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

>>3734260
>>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

>>3734260
>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

“I guess, what im saying is that bureaucracy alone wont change things. Be prepared to back up your words and bills with something else for best effect.”

>>3734260
>'I just don't want you to be disappointed.' (Friendship)

>>3734252
>>'Because ... well, growing up, I guess the only thing I've really seen force change is the threat OF force. I haven't seen bureaucracy change anything.' (Direct)

>>3734260
>Write-In
(Silence) don't answer / say nothing.

Testing

I was getting Connection Errors, so testing again.

You let out a sigh … and laugh, if only briefly.

‘Because, well … growing up,’ you start, before taking a brief, thoughtful pause, ‘I guess that the only thing that I’ve seen spur any change or action was threat of force or action. The last time bureaucracy made for an effective and direct pathway for change was probably when whatever precursors to our species decided that they didn’t need a committee to know that they enjoyed seeing daylight the morning after over being at the bottom of some predator’s belly, you know?’

‘You’ve always preferred direct action to deliberation,’ he comments; a claim that you don’t bother to contest. ‘Your position, however, affords you to be able to delegate resources in whatever direction you wish. It’s a luxury afforded to a precious few … and your perspective is dictated by your position as a Scion. You’re only saying that because the blowback happens at a minimum for you, if at all. Do you think someone in my position could do the same?’

‘No,’ you admit, sighing again, ‘but you know, one of the definitions for insanity is opting for a method or pathway yielding no progress or desirable end-result … despite knowing so before-hand. I won’t argue that there are certain … exceptions here and there that have made that little thread move, but you’re spring-boarding from a military branch into a purely administrative role and banking on getting enough clout to fight whatever it is you’re thinking of swinging that fist of yours at. You’ll pardon me if I think that it’s a waste of everyone’s time. You might as well set up your own cloak and dagger agency on the side if you’re advocating for … for whatever it is, really. You get more done that way, at least.’

‘You’ll excuse me if I don’t wish to compromise my ethics just yet.’

‘I’m serious,’ you growl, your voice low and … frustrated. It had been a time since you were allowed the courtesy to be such with Maldante. ‘I … you know who I am; what I am. I just … well, as funny as it would be to tune in to for the next four decades, I don’t want you to go around office to office just to waste your time. In this universe, in this galaxy … sometimes getting your hands dirty is the only way to go. People don’t respect the blinking red sign on their datapads. They respect embargoes, trained gun barrels and that incident on a Colony Fleet they didn’t think anyone would know about.’

To your surprise, Maldante laughs.

‘I’ll try to remember that,’ he replies, rubbing his shoulder as he wears a … seemingly contented smile.

‘I’m serious.’

‘I know,’ Maldante returns, still wearing that smile, ‘but so am I.’

You shake your head.

That was that, then.

>>3739018
>'Well, I have other things to sort out before tonight. I'm sure you do, too.' (Leave)
>'Before I go, you mind if I ask ... you and Fisher. Was there ...'
>'No books this time, huh?'
>Write-In

>>3739020
>'No books this time, huh?'

>>3739018
>>'Well, I have other things to sort out before tonight. I'm sure you do, too.' (Leave)

>>3739020
>>'No books this time, huh?'

‘No books this time, huh?’ you point out.

He gives a small shrug. ‘No,' Maldante replies, simply ... and, as always, not bothering to follow up at all.

You let out a sigh, licking the roof of your mouth … and reminding yourself just who it was on the other side of the conversation.

>Follow up
>Leave him be for now
>Write-In

>>3739058
>Leave him be for now

>>3739058
>>Leave him be for now

>>3739058
>>Leave him be for now

File: Iona Is A Good Girl.jpg (235 KB, 602x900)

235 KB JPG

To pursue something so trivial would be meaningless. So, instead, you opt to roll your eyes and give him a friendly shove (one that he returns with interest) before bidding him a goodbye and a promise to meet up once the festivities started. Maldante probably had other things to attend to … and with Rhysode’s twilight crawling that much closer, you couldn’t exactly afford to play coy with the laws of time, either.

You wanted to at least be able to catch a nap before you had to go through the slog and noise of your peers. With the day’s events, you couldn’t afford not to.

No one pays heed to you as you make your way down the cobbled steps of the high street (and noticing that it was, strangely, much emptier now—even the street vendors were scarce) and back to the main road, finding yourself at the junction of Jabba’s Palace. The road, in comparison to the cobbled high street, was much busier (Although, with this being Rhysode, it wasn’t really saying much). Rhysode’s days may allowed for more leeway, but time, as you had said before, was—is—time … and even here, there was never enough of it. Not for anyone. You cross the road and jog past the fountain, running up the stairs and entering the lobby.

This time, however, people do take notice.

One of the concierges approaches you, dropping into an over-elaborate bow. It’s not the same man from before; this one has a toothbrush moustache and bald hair to go with a pair of buck teeth.

‘Good day, Lord Mishima. How was your shopping trip?’

He’s much better at sucking up, however, so you give him a pass.

‘Can’t complain,’ you let out casually, keeping your brisk pace towards the elevator. ‘Have my two companions returned?’

‘Ah, the … blonde one and the one with the pony-tail. Yes, they returned about … ten minutes ago, I believe, but, sir, if I may have your attention—’

‘You do. Speak.’

‘Yes, well, three rather … odd young women arrived claiming to … also be your companions,’ he says, causing you to halt mid-stride. ‘We were unable to contact you and as your current guests do not have the authority to dictate any terms to the security of your quarters, we, ah … well, they’re right there.’

He points one of the many gatherings of—

Fishers.

Iona and Delta were slightly bent over, their backs to you and keen on an odd sculpture by the side. Their eldest sister, one Morrigan Fisher, was seated upon an armchair, her own attentions upon what looked like a rather large slice of cake; even from this distance you can make out the stains in the corner of her mouth.

‘Are they … acquaintances of yours?’

>‘No. Send them away.’
>‘They are. Thank you.’

>>3739129
>>‘They are. Thank you.’

>>3739129
>>‘They are. Thank you.’

>>3739129
>‘They are. Thank you.’
weeew lad

>>3739058
>>Leave him be for now

>>3739129
>>‘They are. Thank you.’

File: Delta.jpg (59 KB, 368x447)

59 KB JPG

‘They are,’ you answer, nodding … before adding, ‘thank you.’

He drops into a theatrical bow, heels shuffling against white marble.

‘Of course, my Lord.’

‘That will be all.’

As he shuffles off, you tilt your head at the sight of the three sisters, still unaware of your presence. You’d expected Morrigan to show up; you hadn’t expected her to bring Iona and Delta with her … whatever they were here for. Perhaps …

You pause.

Now there was a thought.

>Approach them normally
>Opt to be playful
>Write-In

>>3739160
>Opt to be playful
>How is the cake?

>>3739162
this

>>3739160
>Approach them normally

>>3739160
>>Approach them normally

>>3739160
>>Approach them normally

>>3739160
>>Approach them normally

>>3739160
>>Write-In
>Do not engage, carry on without notice.

File: Delta again.jpg (211 KB, 850x1417)

211 KB JPG

They manage to notice you before the tip of your shoe crosses the borders of the carpet. Delta and Iona approach you, a very apparent bounce in their step. Despite the smiling faces of two (attractive) young women, you can’t help but feel a little … intimidated by how direct they are with you, even with five years of exposure to their antics. You would have thought with Delta grinding her breasts against your upper arm on such a consistent schedule, you would have shrugged it off with dignity. Instead, you find yourself throwing a very casual and informal smile … an action that your father would surely have reprimanded you for.

It’s, quite frankly, very odd that you feel so nervous in the first place.

‘My Lord!’ Delta greets, practically pouncing you like an over-enthusiastic puppy. An over-enthusiastic puppy with strong arms, soft hair, commendable curves and—

You stop your train of thought, pulling her back with a small, reluctant smile.

Iona cheeks turn pink at your notice, twiddling her thumbs as though uncertain in regards to the difference between your thresholds for her and that of the middle Fisher sister. She appears to settle the conflict by electing not to try her luck on that end, adopting to give a small wave and a smile to go with it, just over a foot and well within arms length.

Odd behaviour, considering the pure scientific curiosity she had displayed walking in on you and Morrigan in the morning. Delta giggles as she steps back, an eager look in her eye. Hands clap together, their owner beaming so brightly that you could almost see sparkles and glitter flying from her. You take another step back, trying to regain your balance and control of the situation … whatever the situation was.

‘Surprised to see us?’

That was one way to start.

‘Yes, I … what are you doing here?’

Delta tilts her head. Iona frowns, a troubled look etching deep, uncertain lines upon her features.

‘Eh, I thought that—’

‘Let me do the talking, all right?’

‘M-Morrigan!’

A stern-looking Morrigan looms over her shorter (although not by much) sibling, locking her head in a one-armed vice hold. You furrow your brow in confusion, feeling your jaw and lips tightening at the sight of the cake-stained White Hawk of Arrakis effectively playing the role of a straight man in a comedic duo, with her sister struggling to regain her dominance … if she ever had any in the first place.

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ Morrigan announces calmly, finally releasing her hold on Delta, who pouts but otherwise doesn’t vocalize an argument. ‘You two promised me, all right?’

There is a heartfelt, warning tone to her voice. The both of them spare you a glance … before nodding again.

‘All right,' Delta sighs, rubbing the back of her neck.

‘Yes, Nee-san.'

Your curiosity reaching a head, you decide to speak up.

‘Is there something that I’m … missing here?’

Morrigan glances at her sisters … who were now nervously fidgeting in place.

‘Do you mind if I speak to you in … private?’

>‘Oh, ah … sure?’
>‘If it’s not Aegis business, I don’t see the sense in being so secretive about things. Wait, it’s not Delta’s birthday, is it?’
>Write-In

>>3744142
>‘Oh, ah … sure?’

>>3744142
>>‘Oh, ah … sure?’

>>3744142
>>‘Oh, ah … sure?’

>>3744142
>‘Oh, ah … sure?’

>>3744142
>>‘Oh, ah … sure?’

‘Oh, ah … sure?’

You’re more confused and curious than you are in the mood to construct any opposition. She gives a sign for her sisters to wait, proceeding to lead you away from the lounging area and towards a more conspicuous location behind a pillar. Her mood appears to be … between emotions, if that could even be put to slate. Eyes focusing on tiles, fingers intertwined, bereft of her trademark confidence … you have half a mind to inform the cloak and dagger crew of a suspected impostor in your midst. More than seeing her in the nude and having her—

The rush of blood to your cheeks at the memory has you immediately forgiving her current state.

‘I’m putting it in your hands,’ she declares with a sudden bout of determination. ‘What you said about me being your … your Mistress, I’ve accepted. You know that.’

‘Uh … yes, I—’

You find yourself surprised with a tight grip around the fabric of your top as the woman that was once your Instructor—and still your superior—pulls you toward her, her eyes suddenly burning with a reluctant, apprehensive … and thoroughly intimidating emotion. You’re caught off-balance, barely keeping yourself from toppling over her with an admittedly awkward flap of your arms; you feel like you’re in the middle of a shake-down.

‘And to that, I … I’ve talked to my sisters in regards to my … shift in position. We’ve gone over it and they’ve … I’ve allowed them to … I’ve deferred the decision for your discretion instead.’

‘What decision?’

Morrigan sighs, slumping her shoulders, relaxing her grip but still keeping your fabric balled in her fists.

‘Morrigan?’ you prompt further, concerned.

‘Delta likes you,’ she lets out. You wish to contest that it was your place in the universe that she likely enjoyed more than you, but the sentiment is appreciated, in any case. ‘So does … so does Iona, and I … I told them that I’d … I’d allow them to take their places beside me and … by you. Do you accept?’

You tilt your head, finding yourself further … confounded.

‘I … don’t know what you’re getting at,’ you start honestly, drawing an oddly incredulous look from the White Hawk of Arrakis, settling your hands upon her wrists, ‘but if you’re asking if I’m going to cut them off just because I’ve agreed to … take you in, I can reassure you that by the extensions I’ve afforded you, they’d be well taken care of. I’m not so heartless as to leave them high and dry just to get at you, you know?’

She fixes you with a flat stare.

You wonder what you’d said wrong.

‘Iona and Delta want to be your Mistresses,’ she clarifies.

‘Oh.’

‘I told them that I’d leave it up to you.’

‘Oh, o—WHAT?!’

She gives a very wry half-smile.

‘Well, that’s not very Scion-like.’

File: You're dense aren't you.jpg (19 KB, 210x240)

19 KB JPG

>>3747049
>'Wait, no. No. I have to refuse.' (Reject the notion)
>'Have your sisters as my Mistresses? I haven't even lost my virginity yet!' (Exclaim)
>'Iona is sixteen. That's ... has she even thought about this? Like, actually thought about it?' (Shocked)
>'I already have you and ... and Sansa on my plate. How am I supposed to manage ... you know what I'm talking about!' (Uncertain)
>'I ... I thought you were joking about letting me breed ...' (Disbelief)
>Write-In

>>3747052
>>Write-In

>'I ... I thought you were joking about letting me breed ...also, I already have you and ... and Sansa on my plate. How am I supposed to manage ... you know what I'm talking about!

Iona is sixteen. That's ... has she even thought about this? Like, actually thought about it?

I haven't even lost my virginity yet even!"

>>3747052
>What? I don't want to say no... I really want to say yes... All three of you are great... It would be fun to fully crew a small starship with my Mistresses, but are you certain? Are they certain? (Emotional Roller coaster through Exclaim, Shocked, Disbelief and Uncertain)

>>3747070
This.

>>3747052
>'Wait, no. No. I have to refuse.' (Reject the notion)

>>3747070
Sounds good to me

>>3747072
this

>>3747052
>>3747070
This, but like with Sansa WARN them about being a mistress.

>>3747052
>>3747070
This

>>3747070
support

>>3747070
This is Mech, I have some free time and I can only incorporate some aspects of this as they all lead towards different pathways individually.

File: See You Tonight.png (319 KB, 438x750)

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‘I thought that you were only joking about letting me breed—’

You shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts proper. Despite the … development, you couldn’t just cut off your rationality and dignity as a Scion like this. Morrigan, to her credit, doesn’t seem to push you either, likely aware of what she had just asked of you. She releases her hold upon your clothes, taking a step back with the tell-tale whirr of her joints. You, in turn, let go of her wrists, biting casting a gaze to the white floor with the distant hope that it’d give you a proper answer.

‘I already have you and Sansa on my pla—’

‘I was wondering why she and that young woman were here,’ Morrigan comments neutrally, placing her chin upon her enclosed fist. ‘You’ve been busy since we last saw each other, haven’t you?’

‘That’s not the point here,’ you hiss, growing more frustrated by the minute. ‘Between the both of you, I think I’m already jugging explanations and timetables; did it even occur to you that I’d … I mean, how am I supposed to manage—’

You throw up your arms, briefly raising them above your head before bringing them down to your sides with a melo-dramatic sigh. Ryosuke would probably have his teeth grinding onto a table if he ever heard you being in such a situation. You of all the people in the known universe … being spoilt for choice between an admittedly attractive cavalcade of women. Scion or no, you wouldn’t have ever considered yourself to be a candidate for such a—

No, wait, no. That was silly talk; someone in your position and of your bloodline was bound to find himself undergoing developments of this sort. It was practically written into the stars, loath as you are to admit it. Still, you didn’t expect people to actually gravitate towards you willingly in lieu of the Mishima name.

Delta excluded, of course.

‘How do you think I feel about this?’ you let out, the energy practically being sapped from your being trying to come up with an argument. ‘You know how this works. How am I going to manage … you know what I’m talking about!’

‘I’m not in the know in regards to your methodology or that of your family’s,’ she returns coolly; the return of a taciturn and level-headed former Chapter pilot’s demeanour almost has you apologizing for the insubordination. ‘This should, however, have been an eventuality within your scope of anticipations, considering your background.’

‘Forgive me for thinking that the precedents set are thoroughly underwhelming. Yeah, let’s just knock a girl up and set them up on some nice Paradise World with a pipeline of money! Works all the time!’

From the corner of your eye, you notice several patrons with wide eyes. You have half a mind to tell them to go drown themselves. Fisher, however, only looks amused.

‘Then why don’t you just follow through with that? No one would judge you otherwise.’

‘Because I care for you more than to just be okay with dumping you and fixing a pipeline to the Mishima accounts for your convenience and calling it day,’ you sigh, running a hand through your hair and furrowing your brows. ‘Besides, Iona’s only sixteen. Do you expect her to have actually run a proper judgment call on the—’

You halt in your words, noticing a pink tinge in Fisher’s cheeks as she looks downward, scratching herself behind the ear.

‘Oh.’

>Write-In

>>3749672
>… yes, i do love you, stars be damned, over anyone and everything, i love you alone

>>3749676
Considering past choices, this would only be able to be executed with a heavy retcon.

>>3749672
>If they are 100% informed about the dangers associated with this choice, then I will accept them
In class, someone improve upon this

>>3749672
Yes, Fisher I do care for you, and while your sisters and certainly attractive they’re still girls, and I don’t feel the same way about them as I do you.”

>>3749802
i suport this

>>3749672
>>3749802
This kind of.

Instead of not having the same feelings though, I think Iowa and Delta still haven’t finished their courses and DO NOT KNOW being a mistress to a noble is all well and good. They should will be well informed or at least finish their classes so they can have Options other then being a baby maker.

This is going a bit too fast for MC. We know the his is going to happen but to have multiple offers from women he knew and such is a bit overwhealming then random thots.

>>3749802
I'll support this but I'd like to include a bit about wanting our Mistress to be long term rather than a one night stand that if lucky will set a girl for life.

File: Lieutenant Commander Fisher.png (97 KB, 310x223)

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‘As undignified as it is for me to put this into a mode of admission,’ you start, hesitant, but finding the courage to push on through anyway, ‘I … Iona and Delta are very attractive young women. That much, I … I can admit. I can’t even deny that the prospect of … I can’t deny that the temptation is there. Still, for me … this … I can’t lie to myself and say that I’d accept them into my bed as readily as you. It’s … paradoxical, I know, and maybe I might be teetering on hypocrisy in this declaration, but … I didn’t take you just to warm the sheets at my beck and call and I’d … I’d never abuse my position just to enable Iona and Delta as extensions of my privilege. They might be … willing, but I’m … I’m not willing to put them in such a position that I’d have to be dishonest with my own … wants just to put them into a … thrall or whatever.’

Maybe you’d been around the common folk a little too long. Your conscience’s voice is much too loud.

‘I’ve—’

‘I know,’ you cut her off, letting out a frustrated, reluctant sigh. Your libido was raging against your centre of thought and banging at the doors. ‘It’s not … I can’t. I … I don’t feel the same way about them as I do for you. I care about them and whatever you want for them, I’ll … I’ll perform as per my duties as … as, you know, but, uh … I’m not about to take advantage of their naivete just to … well, you get what I—’

Morrigan snickers behind a closed fist, bringing a swift (and merciful) end to your rambling.

‘You really are a strange one, aren’t you?’

You snort in response, turning up your nose, indignant.

‘I’m not the one that re-enacted an episode of the Starjammers with affixed models—’

The sentence dies with the locking of an arm around your neck as you’re pulled downward into a hold. Opportunistic onlookers practically bug their eyes out in surprise, but more than likely too fearful to address the power of a woman who could hold a Scion without a death squad dropping bolts into her corpse within the second, proceed to then (cowards that they are) scuttle off. Even the Concierges, who have a good view from their angle, turn turn their gazes to the ceiling.

‘Just who was the one who joined in right after?’

‘I wasn’t the one that made … pew-pew soun-urk!’

She smiles sweetly, her prosthetic constricting a tighter hold around your neck.

‘Careful, careful, cadet … I am still your superior. Slander is forbidden …’

‘U-Understood … ma’am.’

‘Good soldier.’

You immediately stand upright, glaring at your former Instructor as you checked your neck for any lasting damage. She still wears that dangerously serene smile, daring you to throw your daggers. Wisely, you elect not to do so. Your dignity had taken enough damage to—

‘You’ve gotten better,’ she points out. ‘I remember when you’d get out of breath just from bending over.’

>>3755118
>'I don't miss being fat at all.' (Nostalgic)
>'I hated remedial classes. They always made you feel inappropriate. We're not foot-soldiers, we're Officers.' (Arrogant)
>'Thank the Emperor for Remedial Classes.' (Amused)
>'So, while we're here, I'd like to ask ...' (Expand)
>'Yeah, well, seeing as we've finished here ... I think that you'd better tell Iona and Delta of ... you know. What we just discussed.' (Proceed)
>Write-In

>>3755129
>'Thank the Emperor for Remedial Classes.' (Amused)

>>3755129
>>'I don't miss being fat at all.' (Nostalgic)

>>3755129
>>Write-In

"i'm not totally against them joining you and us in this thing, but i prefer that they have a good head on their shoulders/grounded first before they propose that again.

If after that they still want in then who am i to deny them that...it will also help grandpa and uncle of my case and hopefully squash all those homo pairings them dirty girls are saying"

Rolled 2 (1d3)

>>3755131
>>3755136
>>3755199
Let's see where fate takes us.

>>3755202
heaven or hell, lets rock!

‘I don’t miss being fat at all,’ you chuckle, remembering the sensation of being thrown onto the mat and having your boots clogged with mud. ‘I won’t say that I don’t have fond memories of my time in conditioning, though.’

It was where you’d made your first friends, after all.

‘I suppose I should be thankful to Zalatz and the rest,’ Morrigan muses. ‘I wonder just how much you’ve trained up since, though.’

She gives your chest a light rap of her knuckles, wearing a mischievous smile. You let out a squeak in response, covering your upper torso with your hands as you beat a hasty retreat of four steps, wrinkling your nose and glaring indignantly at your superior. Lover or no, Mistress or whatever, you were still rather sensitive about your physical … reformatting. It’d taken years and years of toil to get that tick from your Instructors, and Morrigan Fisher being playful about your only recently-defined pectorals was a bit of a sensitive point. You remember those days looking in the mirror … and one Ryosuke playing with your man—

No, no, it was just some skinship. No use going down that path now. Not with the rumours circulating about your sexuality, as monolithic as it was—is.

‘I’ve kept to the recommended regime,’ you state, glaring at her as you stiffen at the prospect of being pounced on and having your dignity deprived from your being by the hands of the woman before you. ‘I’m not a nut like Ryosuke, but I’ve followed the schedule closely enough to … well, I’m not a first pick for a Wargeass scramble, but I’ve gained enough to last a few rounds.’

She chuckles, tapping your a finger into your chest. This time, however, you don’t shrink away.

‘That remains to be seen.’

You cock a curious eyebrow.

>Write-In
>Leave

>>3755242
>Leave

>>3755242
>>Write-In

"i'm not totally against them joining you and us in this thing, but i prefer that they have a good head on their shoulders/grounded first before they propose that again.

If after that they still want in then who am i to deny them that...it will also help grandpa and uncle of my case and hopefully squash all those homo pairings them dirty girls are saying"

>>3755242
>Is that a challenge?

>>3755248
Much as i want to say this. it feels like we are back peddling. Though i want to say it,

>>3755242
>Leave

>>3755242
>snort
>"let's enjoy the party"

>>3755242
>Is that a challenge?

‘Is that a challenge?’

‘More of an unwillingness to draw conclusions until sufficient data reinforces … or disproves the claims, my former student,’ Morrigan returns coyly, ‘Expectations dull delivery more often than not … and I’d rather not set myself up for disappointment.’

You can’t help but frown. Despite her insistence to the contrary, you can’t help but feel like you had … something to live up to where she was concerned. Still, it wasn’t something to bother with at the moment; you’d just negotiated a rejection of potential lovers in the last five minutes of conversation. The only thing on your mind right now was to go back up to your room and … sleep. The party wasn’t that far off and you wanted to get some winks in before you found yourself blared by a legion of rowdy officers-to-be. With Ryosuke and Reinweld in that mix, you—

‘Everything fine?’

The blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel her finger—prosthetic as it is—brush the side of your head, concern lacing her voice. You hold onto her wrist, offering as reassuring a look as you’re able to muster. Perhaps you should stop being such a brooder; you didn’t wear it well and it almost always miscommunicated your emotions.

‘Just … relishing the last few hours of my chastity.’

She gives you a flat stare. One that you can’t help but chuckle at.

‘You’re assuming a whole lot, boy.’

>‘I know.’ (Indifferent)
>‘I can be optimistic when I want to be.’ (Defensive)
>‘And you’d rather I … not?’ Caress her chest
>‘Well, whatever, then. We should get back to your sisters.’ (Hurry Along, Direct)
>Write-In

>>3762681
>>‘And you’d rather I … not?’ Caress her chest

>>3762681
>‘And you’d rather I … not?’ Caress her chest

>>3762681
>>‘And you’d rather I … not?’ Caress her chest

>>3762681
>‘I can be optimistic when I want to be.’ (Defensive)

>>3762681
>It’s a rough estimate? (Joking)

>>3764073
Subbort

>>3762681
>>3764073
Supporting

You snort in amusement, smirking and leaning in. Though she tries to hide it, you can feel the apprehension emanating from your former Instructor’s slightly shrunk form. She must have assumed you to be unwilling to break from the norms of public expectation … which you aren’t. Cupping her breasts through her clothes and hearing the hitch on her throat, you remind her that she’d been the one all too enthusiastic to cross over the threshold with you in the first place. There are protests and a cry that dies with your ministrations; you’re considerate enough to push the both of you out of direct sight. There is no one on this “face” of the pillar; a blind spot to the public. One that you are very eager to take advantage of. Morrigan Fisher squeaks and presses a hand against the underside of your jaw, piling excuses upon excuses. That this was no place to get frisky; that her sisters were just over there and the concierge and the other hotel employees could walk in on you and bring a tabloid headline to the fore.

‘You’d rather I … not?’

There’s an uncertainty there. You’re not sure whether you’re referring to her hesitance or her previous attack on your pride. Seeing her flushed face, parted lips and barely-restrained lust behind her lidded gaze (and the lack of reply), you conclude that you have enough of an answer to proceed. It was rare (if ever) that you had the upper hand with Fisher, and even with the gap being narrowed somewhat in the last few hours, you can’t help but relish the rush of superiority that you feel at the moment.

You find that is, indeed, only for a moment.

A wince of pain escapes you as the uncomfortable sensation of a prosthetic couples itself with that of a reversal, your back slamming against the pillar with the swift motion of a woman that reminds you of her status as a decorated soldier and war hero. You can hear the whirr of the mechanical arrangement as Morrigan’s subdued, hesitant expression gives way to one of maddened, arrogant, triumph. It’s your turn to keep your mewling down, distant footsteps thumping against your ear like drills and hammers. A frightened rush comes over you. Your previous bravado is all but shot as the reality of your situation sinks in and you are the one who is struggling to beg for a halt to the proceedings. Morrigan, however, has no intentions to abide to you or your words, devouring your lips and invading your mouth with—

She draws back, frowning and wrinkling her nose as she appears to … slosh the intermixed saliva in her mouth.

‘M-Morrigan?’

The blue-haired demon of a woman licks her upper lip, shooting you with an accusatory glare.

‘Why … do I taste another woman on you?’

‘Huh?’

>Write-In

>>3767358
>Because Sanza confessed to me earlier and we ended up making out in a changing room?

>>3767368
this

>>3767358
Because Sanza confessed and tried to get me to fuck her due to nervous breakdown from overworking herself with classes and the upcoming party?

‘Ah, that,’ you start, thinking back … and fighting the red hue from making too obvious a mark upon your features, ‘I was … Sansa confessed earlier and one thing led to another and, uh … well, we ended up making out in a changing room?’

You leave the part about having your face sloshed by fluids as a result of her arousal out. While you weren’t technically being wholly unfaithful (you really couldn’t be from your position), you didn’t think that throwing it out right here would be a wise notion by your current judgment … or that she was tasting more than just another woman upon your tongue and lips at the moment. Morrigan sighs as she pulls herself back, defeated but otherwise … functional. The mood had evaporated with the question … and even you realize that the spontaneity of your actions wasn’t repeatable under the circumstances. You look at her with concern, silently pondering if the reveal was, indeed, much too much for—

‘This is something I’m going to have to get used to, isn’t it?’

You grimace, leaning in. You move to try humour; it was reliable enough of a fall-back, at least by your experience.

‘Two minutes ago you were willing to share me with your sisters,’ you muse, touching your forehead to hers.

‘Well, we share everything, anyway. It wouldn’t be any different than sharing a communications array fee or a couch on the weekend mornings …’

‘You’re actually comparing a Scion to a couch?’

Morrigan’s coy smile returns, right before she draws back. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, taking another step away and gesturing towards the general direction of her sisters. You straighten your clothes out as well as you can manage, letting out a reluctant sigh, a disappointed libido and a resignation to current developments. Delta and Iona are as you’d left them: staring at a piece of art set upon a long, decorative table … and arguing its frivolities.

‘—but it’s not like I’m not saying that you’re wrong. There’s definitely something off about it. Like it’s … like it doesn’t fit. You have white and brown and black, but it just doesn’t mix right.’

‘You’re reading too much into it.’

Iona huffs, turning on her heel … and immediately adopting a surprised look as she comes face-to-face with you (and Morrigan, of course).

‘I’m going to be staying on for tonight,’ Morrigan announces, hands on her hips as she observes her siblings. ‘I know neither of you have school tomorrow, but I’d like for you to head back to the house before they shut down the—’

‘What? You said we could stay!’ Iona, much to your surprise, protests. Delta doesn’t look far from the mood, either.

‘You mean we can’t go to the graduation party?!’

‘I never agreed to that,’ Morrigan mentions with emphasis. ‘I said that … pending certain developments’—she affords you a quick, accusatory glance—‘that you might be allowed to stay on.’

Much to your amusement, the both of them let out frustrated groans. They really were sisters, despite it all.

‘You give us permission to be Mistresses but you can’t even let us go out to one measly party! How hypocritical can you get?’

You’re not sure if that counted for being hypocritical. Then again …

‘About that …’

Morrigan gestures for you to speak up.

‘What?’

‘Don’t … you have something to tell them?’

‘I do?’

Morrigan gestures towards the two teenagers with her head.

You did?

Oh.

Yes. Yes, you did.

>Write-In

>>3767452
Unfortunately, I've decided that I'm not taking anymore mistresses at the moment. Its not that you aren't attractive....and the thought had crossed my mind but you two are still taking your courses and Iona, you are sixteen. Its bit too early to be thinking of throwing yourself to be a noble's bed warmer.

Delta, Didn't I decided to help sponsor or support your courses as well, so you should focus on that..

I really appreciate that you think about me this way but you still have options you have yet to explore, and things you could do. Being a Scion's mistress isn't all sunshine and rainbows. It can be cruel and mean, and even dark.

I just want you to think on it more, and once you finished your studies and still think and feel the same for me, then we can start somewhere.

>>3767452
>"Delta you're good. Iona, come back in 2....no, 5 years."

>>3767452
>I'd be fine with you 2 being my mistresses only after a year of me and if you two fully understand what type of life it actually is

>>3767810
This

>>3767810
This

>>3767810
>Only after a year of me getting things settled while on tour/duty
Doing in write ins in class is a pain, didn't even notice I left a part out

>>3767810
Ye. Sure, this.

C'mon my dudes, we're so close to having an actual mecha battle.

>>3769779
bet we aint getting in a mech that until the world dies

>>3769976
Not with the way Mechs life keeps getting dominated by helping with his families business