>>3844362
>Morrigan
>Reinweld
>Ryosuke
>Sansa
>Maldante
>Gerard
>Write-In

>>3844364
>Ryosuke
operation wingman

>>3844364
>>Ryosuke

>>3844364
>>Ryosuke

>>3844364
>>Ryosuke

>>3844364
>Ryosuke

>>3844364
>Ryosuke

>>3844364
>>Ryosuke
Time to help our boi

I am now thirty years and two days old and officially over the fact that I have turned thirty. You guys will get regular sessions from now on.

>>3851006
Thanks wizard

>>3851147
Mech gave up his chance for wizardhood a couple years ago

>>3851006
WHOOOO HOOOOO

>>3851147
Sorry, my resume for that comes up short. Session in approximately 15-20 minutes.

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You’d never tell it to his face, but seeing Ryosuke actually managing to hold conversation with a girl for this long without her throwing something in his face over some crass (albeit well-intentioned) comment had been something you’d been secretly hoped for for the last few years of your acquaintanceship. The girl across him was clad in a flowery pink dress, one leg on top of the other and her dark hair puffed up and ordained by what looked like imitation pearls. She didn’t appear to be enthusiastically listening to your friend, however. Her tentative, conflicted expression looked as though she was teetering between a fork in the road between reluctance and intrigue.

Still, she was respectful enough to listen to him drone on about his home world and the time he had to lie to law enforcement for being caught in a sector forbidden to public access.

‘When the cruisers came around, I didn’t know what to do? There was one bridge, two forks and one angry guard that—’

This must have been the thirtieth time he’d told that story. You wonder if you were being a good friend by never bothering to point that detail out.

‘Ryosuke.’

His eyes light up as he wheels the stool around to face you … before practically springing off and enveloping you in a very unexpected embrace. You feel all the air being forced out of your lungs by your admittedly mighty comrade, before he pulls back and reveals a smile wide enough to shove a cannon in. While Ryosuke had always been a cheerful creature, right now, he looked positively … elated. It must have been a good night for him so far, if his expression and actions were anything to go by.

You do wish he’d at least allow you to touch your heels to the ground, though. This was just embarrassing.

‘So you made it after all! Thought you’d be sampling the luxuries of your royal suite for sure.’

‘You’re implying Sansa would allow me the courtesy.’

In more ways that one, you might add.

‘Senpai,’ Rosaria greets, prompting your blue-haired friend to release you. He only gives her a good-natured wave in response. The smile stays the same, however.

‘Ah, Rosaria. He showing you a good time?’

You’re not allowed time to recover, as your rambunctious friend hooks his arm around your neck. You glare at him in displeasure out of the corner of your eye … and realizing that there were just some gaps in life that one couldn’t close through wealth and station alone.

Rosaria nods cheerfully in response to the question.

The girl at the bar appears to giggle behind a gloved hand, clearly amused by Ryosuke’s antics.

That was certainly a first.

>Write-In

>>3852387
So who's your friend Ryosuke? The fact she's not slapped you and stormed off is a promising sign.

>>3852387
>And who might your companion be?

>>3852389
same

>>3852387
>>3852389
This, some slight put down is wingmanish

>>3852387
>>3852389
this

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‘So … who’s your friend? The fact that she hasn’t thrown liquid into your eyeballs and cursed you to the stars bodes some promise.’

The girl giggles some more. Ryosuke slips his arm off your neck, scratching the top of his head as he turns an embarrassed shade of red. The dark-haired girl and your blue-haired friend share a brief look, before the latter lets out a nervous laugh.

‘We, uh … just met, actually,’ Ryosuke reveals, much to your—no, that was wrong. You’re not surprised. If there was someone who would be capable of such ignorance it would very likely be the man who had just released his hold on you. Ryosuke sheepishly raises his head to meet with the girl’s bright blue eyes. ‘I didn’t, um … catch your name?’

You fight the urge to groan into your palm. Rosaria, much to your surprise, wears a half-grimace at the absurdity of the exchange. So much for Ryosuke’s barren streak coming to an end. It was no wonder that she was so uncomfortable with Ryosuke regaling her with stories of his home-world. If nothing else, he definitely needed to understand that there were some unwritten rules to these things: like not trying to pick up a girl with the story of an alleged felony before one even knew her name. You get to your feet, dusting yourself off and wear your most welcoming, understanding smile, running a hand through your hair … and resisting the urge to give your friend a good, swift kick.

The girl, however, seemed rather amused. You don’t dare to inquire just what aspect of recent developments that amusement was directed towards.

‘Xu,’ she reveals, dropping into a small bow. Her voice is a little high-pitched for your preference, but it wasn’t your preference that was particularly relevant at the current moment. ‘Xu Wylin. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

If nothing else, she was educated enough to be polite … even in this atmosphere. It probably helped that she didn’t look the least bit tipsy; which was probably more attributable to the fact that she was—

‘If you’re wondering if I’m allowed to have a drink, I assure you that I’m of age,’ she adds, practically reading your mind. ‘It’s quite flattering that people still think that I’m anything but.’

‘I wasn’t thinking of anything of the sort,’ you quickly respond, trying your best not to meet Ryosuke’s irritated gaze. ‘I am, however, rather curious as to how you’re here. You don’t … look like a prospective cadet.’

She laughs, tucking a curl of dark hair behind her ear.

‘No, I’m … I actually … well, I’m supposed to be here with someone, but … um …’

She trails off, scratching the side of her cheek. The inquiry appeared to be causing her some measure of discomfort. To your side, you can feel Ryosuke’s irritation practically pulsing from his frame. And to think he'd embraced you not two minutes before.

>>3852488
>‘Your date stood you up?’ (Blunt)
>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)
>‘I was wondering what would allow a woman to endure one of his stories past the second paragraph.’ (Dry)
>‘Well, it’s not like you could do worse than this character. Maybe a few more drinks and you’ll actually find him engaging.’ (Friendship)
>Write-In

>>3852488
>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)

>>3852492
>>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)

>>3852492
>>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)
>>Write-In
"To new friends! Barkeep, a round!"

>>3852492
>>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)
>>

>>3852492
>>‘Well, I hope that my friend here is more than able to pick up the slack.’ (Casual)

>>3852492
>‘Well, it’s not like you could do worse than this character. Maybe a few more drinks and you’ll actually find him engaging.’ (Friendship)

Session will be on today. I just had some stuff I had to take care of. I forgot my optometrist's appointment was yesterday in the middle of the session and had to jet.

Session in about half an hour.

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‘Then I hope that my friend is adequate replacement for your … presently absent company. Or, at least, until they choose to show up. He has a tendency to over-step here and there, so I’d like to apologize in advance should he offend you in any sort of way.’

Ryosuke glares at you, baring his fangs. You stare right back at him, a coy smile playing upon your lips as you gesture your head towards the presently lone female on the bar stool. Deciding that you would probably prove more of a distraction than you’d wish upon anyone, you give Ryosuke a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, excusing yourself and offering Rosaria an arm to take. You slip your friend a sly wink with your back to the girl, eager to not be a factor in any avalanche of his making. While a small part of you did wish to stay and see how he was going to steer himself with such a pretty young thing, you couldn’t exactly justify … wedging yourself in there, even with your status.

No, well … you could.

You doubt that the fates and the law of universal returns would take kindly to that, however.

Besides, it wasn’t as if you didn’t had a shortage of bodies to prod for the night.

‘Senpai?’ Rosaria calls out to you, her arm still hooked around yours.

The night was still young and you hadn't made the most of it just yet.

>Morrigan
>Reinweld
>Sansa
>Maldante
>Gerard
>Write-In

>>3854243
>>Sansa

>>3854243
>>Maldante

>>3854243
>Sansa

>>3854243
>Reinweld

File: Sansa.jpg (333 KB, 1897x1231)

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Sansa is right where you’d last seen her, delegating whatever tasks were left for the night. You can see the waiter and waitress nodding animatedly as you approach, your younger Mistress gesticulating with gusto as she distributes the latest set of commands. She doesn’t look haggard, not by any stretch, but the expression that she wears is most definitely not of a person that was looking to enjoy the last few hours before her friends wandered off into whatever corners of the galaxy that the AEGIS deemed fit to throw them towards.

You suppose, however, as part of the committee, she probably didn’t have much choice in the matter (You do note, however, that she’d practically campaigned for the role, so justifying it as such was probably a little too generous).

‘If they have any more complaints,’ Sansa starts, loudly and audibly, ‘tell them that they can take their grievances to the city administration when their office hours come into operation. That is, if they’re still making noise by tomorrow morning. For now, though … just make sure that no one stands on tables or gets into fights in the stalls. Try to get some of the bouncers to do a few patrols indoors if you think that things are on the way to getting out of hand.’

The scuttle off, allowing Sansa to let out a sigh of relief … and leave her open for your own approach.

‘Busy?’

Sansa turns to face you … and immediately drapes her arms over her shoulder. Rosaria unhooks her arm from yours in one swift movement, allowing you to support all of the woman that was in your arms, her face half-buried in your chest. She lets out a small whine into the fabric of your suit, prompting a sympathetic rumble of amusement from throat.

‘I’ll take that as a yes,’ you conclude, prompting Sansa to pull her head back, her lips pouting and her eyesbrows creased in what you assume to accentuated desperation. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘If I take another sip I’ll be mixing up the stall assignments and the janitorial timetable.’

‘I think I’ll just pretend that I understand that.’

She leans back a little bit more, slapping you on the chest with one hand as the other hooks around the back of your neck. You feel the curvature of her waist in your hands, the fabric of her cloth doing little to dissuade you from your imagination … and memory.

‘You’re definitely enjoying yourself, though,’ Sansa giggles, smirking. ‘I saw you almost burn a hole in the dance floor.’

You can feel the heat in your ears as her smirk grows coy.

‘Those were some smooth moves, Lord Mishima.’

You try to mouth a reply, only to find the words dying before they can settle upon the back of your tongue. You hadn’t expected her to be witness to your … activities.

‘He’s not bad, is he, Rosaria?’

Rosaria claps her hands together cheerfully. ‘Senpai’s a very good dancer!’

>Write-In

>>3854531
"I honestly do not know how, my dance instructor would accuse me of being a doppleganger if she saw me doing what I did on the dance floor."

>>3854531
>>Write-In
"What can I say, I had a good partner. Honestly didn't know I had it within me either."

>>3854531
>I had a good dance partner. How do you think you would have fared?

>>3854531
>>Write-In
*Cocky grin*
You know it ladies. Flex a bit too

>>3854531
supporting >>3854543

>>3854531
>>3854543
This

File: Sansa 3.jpg (143 KB, 850x1209)

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‘My dance instructor would have accused me of trading places with a doppelganger if she’d caught me,’ you comment, your shoulders shaking as you try to imagine the very scene. ‘It helped that I had such a good partner, though.’

Rosaria laughs nervously, scratching the back of her head. ‘Ah, um … thank you, Senpai.’

Sansa sighs loudly, turning her gaze up at you with an uncertain, defeated expression. ‘I know that I said that I’d try to get used to it, but … you’re not making it easy, you know?’

You regard Sansa for a moment, the young woman biting her lip as she appears to reconsider her position. It was probably—no, it was definitely a change for her. There was a difference between what one put into their words and what one conducted through action … and as a first-hand recipient of such a lesson, you couldn’t blame Sansa for not being accustomed to the idea of you sowing your seeds elsewhere (Not that you had an eye on that right now … or at all, but whatever) just yet. You weren’t exactly in-the-know with the customs of the common folk, but you were aware enough to understand that monogamy was a stricter practice to the liberal approach that you and your ilk were educated by.

‘I just met her today,’ you whisper, chuckling in amusement as you press your forehead to hers. ‘It took me five years to weasel my way into your good graces; do you think that it’d be any different for others?’

‘Oh no, that’s not what I’m talking about,’ Sansa replies quickly, drawing herself away. ‘I mean … yes, it is, but I’m more used to seeing you with five rolls under your chin and custom-fit waistbands, so it’s just really hard for me to imagine you actually trying to woo anyone at all.’

You glare down at her, not amused whatsoever.

>‘Big words from a woman who had my sack in her mouth and had to be pried away while cock-drunk.’
>‘Well, it’d be hard to fit into a cockpit with all that girth.’
>‘Yes, yes, you are very amusing, Miss Wilmots. Very amusing, indeed.’
>‘So what was that about? The graduates making their usual … mess?’
>Write-In

>>3855775
>‘Big words from a woman who had my sack in her mouth and had to be pried away while cock-drunk.’

>>3855775
>You were acting far differently last night, but I guess if you would rather let Morrigan do all the heavy lifting in that department..... I am sure she would enjoy it.

>>3855782
>last night
You mean evening, right? Because that happened in the evening.

>>3855775
>Write-in
>You were one of my two dates who ran off, leaving me alone with her as my only companion, when we got here.

>>3855784
yes, sorry.

>>3855777
>>3855782
>>3855788
That's three suggestions. Let's see for whom the bell tolls.

>>3855788
support

‘I seem to recall you being far different not too long ago,’ you comment with a light smirk, ‘but if you’d rather Morrigan do all the heavy—oof!’

You almost double over, trying to clutch your caved stomach only to find the perpetrator’s own torso preventing you from doing so. Sansa smiles dangerously as she showcases a surprisingly considerable amount of strength in keeping you on your feet, her left hand helpfully patting you on the back to deal with the bout of coughing that she had just caused. You clear your throat as you rise to full height, scowling at the perpetrator, who had now hooked her arm around your waist, fingers tapping against the bones of your abdomen in a very obvious warning. Being a doctor-in-training, you conclude that there were far worst forms of punishment that she could promise you if you didn’t stop trying to be coy … and so you do.

‘What I mean to say is,’ you start again, observing Sansa’s sweet, sweet smile, ‘I … thoroughly understand the sentiment and your need for adjustment to this change. I will … do my best to accommodate you through this.’

‘Oh, you’re just too sweet.’

You chuckle, leaning in to her ear.

‘That, and … you know where to find comfort if your mouth so desperately needs it, my dear Mistress.’

As you lay with your knees bent and her hands around your throat, you find that the agony is a small price to pay.

It’s not as if this hasn't happened before, anyway.

>Ask her about the party
>Ask her about your friends
>Ask her about her plans
>Move on

>>3856012
>Ask her about her plans

>>3856012
>>Ask her about your friends

>>3856012
>Ask her about her plans

>>3856012
>>Ask her about her plans

File: I'm Fine Realy.jpg (109 KB, 850x987)

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You adjust your suit and dust yourself off, chuckling at the scowling figure of your younger Mistress as she refused to even spare you a glance. Her arms crossed and her weight on one foot, she looked very expectant of an apology from your person. You being you, however, refused to give her the satisfaction. Not that it stopped you from finding other avenues of appeasement.

‘You seriously need to grow a sense of humour,’ you muse, rubbing the back of your neck. Sansa rolls her eyes as Rosaria, now by your side, looks between the both of you, confused … as she should be; you’d kept your voice low enough for the duration of the previous conversation for it to be intimate. ‘You don’t want patients complaining about your lack of bedside manner, do you, doctor?’

She grunts her displeasure, placing her hands on her hips as she turns her nose up at you.

Sansa being your Mistress really hadn’t changed much between the both of you.

‘Bedside manner is the last thing on my mind when you’re involved.’

You wear a coy smirk, remembering—

‘One word and I swear …’

‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ you protest innocently, holding your hands to your chest. ‘I was merely going to inquire as to what activities you have planned for yourself for the rest of the night. What with all of us scattering to the winds I thought I’d at least try to catch up on that.’

To your surprise … she buys it.

‘I still have the committee to sort out,’ Sansa grumbles, prompting an odd nod from Rosaria. ‘Everyone’s been well-behaved for the most part, but the pranks are still destructive to a point, so I’m going to have to read through what complaints we’ve been getting for tonight.’

You furrow your brows as you stare at her, concerned. Sansa may have been a workaholic, but you didn’t think that she’d willingly engross herself in the mess that was the aftermath of the AEGIS graduation party before the party was even over. She’d practically worked her frustrations on you for the duration of the—

No, this wasn’t the time to entertain such thoughts.

Well, it was. That was what the stalls were for, but … not this exact moment.

‘Are you seriously going to toil over voluntary administrative work on a night like this?’

‘Yes, I am,’ she answers cheerfully … and places her hands on your chest, ‘and you are going to enjoy yourself while I do.’

‘Sansa …’

‘I’m fine,’ Sansa reassures you, albeit with a release of breath that doesn’t inspire any confidence whatsoever. ‘I really am. You … go and enjoy yourself. Night’s still young, you know?’

You narrow your eyes, not quite willing to relinquish the point.

Sansa, however, seemed rather insistent.

>>3856214
>‘All right, if you say so.’ (Leave her to he responsibilities)
>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)
>Write-In

>>3856216
>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)
>This is as much for you as it is for anyone else, and if you run yourself ragged now you won’t be able to do anything later when they try to do the really bad stuff.

>>3856216
>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)

>>3856214
>>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)

>>3856216
>>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)

>>3856216
>>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)

>>3856216
>‘All right, if you say so.’ (Leave her to he responsibilities)

I guess you all just want to watch the city burn, eh? This'll be entertaining.

>>3856216
>>‘And what if I … insist?’ (Princess Carry Her Away from her responsibilities)

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‘Oh? And what if I … insist?’

Sansa cocks an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she stares at you with interest.

‘Ha?’

Before she can mount any sort of resistance, you put your … plan into motion, for whatever value the word had in regards to you approach. The approach, of course, involving hoisting her like a sack of vegetables for the mess hall cook over your shoulder and playing deaf to her protests and claims of indignation. Rosaria, bless her, looked somewhat torn between her own thoughts regarding the … man-handling of your friend-cum-lover, but apparently believed her loyalty to you was of a higher valuation than providing the woman draped over your right shoulder with the remotest bit of assistance.

‘P-Put me down!’

‘No,’ you retort calmly, rotating yourself to find the others. They appeared to still be

Truthfully, you’re half-tempted to comply by the first five steps. You hadn’t quite noticed the weight difference with her riding on you, but now that that she had to be compensated for the sake of your own balance, you’re able to discern that she was a mite … heavier than how she usually presented herself. The bodies around you don’t bother to help her either; many of the graduates are seen holding back guffaws, but you do notice the occasional look of sympathy, disbelief and uncertainty that’s thrown your way. You were, after all, carrying a—

‘You’ve put on quite a—YEOW!’

You feel a stinging pain in your side, almost causing the both of you to topple over. You can’t get a good clean look (Not with her bountiful ass cheeks blocking your way), but you’re quite sure that your current prisoner hadn’t taken too kindly to that comment. A most embarrassing squeak of pain escapes from your throat as the pinching sensation tightens and you’re half-tempted to give her a good hard spank to stop her from—

‘Look, I know that it’s graduation, but I’d really rather not have to deal with a harassment claim from Miss Wilmots as the first thing on my desk after you’ve finally shot off to your post.’

The voice almost cause you to drop the woman on your shoulder.

The pinching sensation subsides in quick succession as you turn to face the stern expression of the—and there was no two ways about it—single most intimidating figure on the whole planet.

‘Instructor Wray, sir! Good evening, sir!’

You shift into a quick salute … prompting Sansa to give your cheeks a quick smack of her own.

He was dressed in his usual attire. A short-sleeved uniform with a vest over the top accompanied by his name-tag. He looked like he’d just shut down his console and popped up right next to you.

The crowd turns their attentions away from you.

A wise decision.

He stares at you calmly, as if waiting for you to make the next move.

>Write-In

>>3862770
>That would be an interesting claim, sir. "The Lord whose house hold I requested to join earlier that day insisted that I enjoy the festivities that I had helped organize. Please punish him for preventing me from overworking myself."

>>3862778
supportin

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‘That would be an interesting claim—’

‘For goodness’ sakes, put the lady down before you hurt yourself, son.’

Sheepishly, you comply. Sansa dusts herself off, before giving your buttocks another smack, straightening the hem of her dress before throwing up a salute for the balding man before you. Darton Wray, however, doesn’t turn his attentions away from you … and forget your rank and status, you feel like you’d shrunk (ballooned, more like) into that sixteen year-old who didn’t know heads or tails of a Hellion’s cockpit prep sequence. His being shorter than you does nothing to diminish the sheer intimidation that you feel being within firing distance of the man. The last five years had only served to enhance your respect for the man … and engorge your fear of him to gargantuan measures. Wray was every bit the—and there was no other word to replace the crude colloquialism—hard-ass he had said he was on day one. Wray was the practical Instructor for the career pilot wannabes. He spent his days humiliating any and all comers who fancied themselves first-round picks, but your suspected that even a Chapter would have a hard time outmanoeuvring a man who had made a legend for himself taking down armies and making enemy aces marks on his hatch like they were ticks on his calendar.

Darton Wray was the best.

Darton Wray is the best.

That was all that one needed to know, lest they ended up a stain on the underside of his boot.

‘Everything all right, Miss Wilmots?’ he inquires, eyeing you with a wary gaze that you reflexively click your heels together and broaden your shoulders. Sansa—the witch—smirks at your display of intimidation; you’re tempted to whisper to her that unlike the insane, you actually liked a working wind-pipe.

‘Yes, sir, I’m sorry; I’m still breaking him in. ’ she replies sweetly … wrapping her arms around your upper right bicep as she stares up at you, adopting a rather infantile tone and tugging on your cheek. ‘He just doesn’t know any better yet, does he?’

You force a smile and a laugh.

You promise severe repercussions in the depths of your mind for such mockery.

Wray snorts, wearing a half-smirk of his own. ‘As long as it’s all in order,’ he declares neutrally, before frowning and looking around. ‘I do suggest that if either of you are looking to take up stall … not to.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind, sir,’ you reply, nodding.

Wray nods and turns his back to you, going on his merry way … before stopping and turning around to face you, the look of scrutiny returning as you find your sphincter rightly tightening in response.

‘You ship off tomorrow, don’t you?’

‘Uh, yes, sir.’

He looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘The Greyhound. Captain Adama’s ship.’

>>3862850
>‘The Captain Adama?’ (KNOWLEDGE)
>‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so.’ (Uncertain)
>‘I … guess. I didn’t really check.’ (Ignorance)
>Write-In

>>3862851
>>‘The Captain Adama?’ (KNOWLEDGE)

>>3862851
>‘The Captain Adama?’ (KNOWLEDGE)

>>3862851
>>‘The Captain Adama?’ (KNOWLEDGE)

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‘The Captain Adama?’

It couldn’t have been.

Husker Adama? The Husker Adama? The very same man whose claim to the title of hero was the South Star Frontier Pacification Campaign? The front-line Admiral of The Battlegroup Galactica? The very same man? You almost feel weak in the knees. You’d read about their exploits. The campaigns, the controversies and the fury of the Houses at their back. It was almost surreal to imagine it: that you’d be signing off on crates and supplies and the like under the watchful eye of one—

‘It’s a Captain Adama, if that’s what you’re asking. His daughter-in-law, specifically.’

You can almost hear the amusement in his voice as you feel your shoulders droop. It would be, of course. How could you have made such a miscalculation? Why would Husker Olmos Adama be the Captain of a Cavalier-Class Transport Cruiser, of all things? If Wray was the type to laugh, you don’t doubt that he’d at least have a chortle or two in now at your expense. It’s quite hard, however, to hide your disappoint, brief and false as the hope was.

To serve under Adama … wow.

Still, while it was on the table, it wouldn’t hurt to ask a few more questions.

But not too many. The man before you was still the scariest man on the planet, after all.

‘His … daughter-in-law?’

‘Claudia,’ Wray answers, ‘Captain Claudia Adama, to be exact. She’s not a fully-realized member of the AEGIS chain of command, but from what I hear, she’s shown enough competence to be integrated through the carry-over programs from the private sector. I’m more familiar with her husband, but if she can put up with Leroy, she’s probably more than outfitted for a logistics timetable.’

You frown, wondering where you’d heard the name before …

‘Leroy?’

‘Leroy Adama,’ Wray clarifies. ‘Marshall Adama’s son.’

You nod. You knew that Cap—no, Marshall. Of course it’d be Marshall. There was no way he wouldn’t be promoted after exploits. The encyclopedias did detail Adama’s status as a married man and that he had children, but you weren’t particularly familiar with the man’s personal life. You were, however, familiar with the rotation of Chapters that had attached themselves to him: The Oakmounts, The Pillars of Kardisi, The Arken Shields …

But the fact that each and every one of the Knight-Commanders and Lance-Commanders had mentioned the man by their own words in tribute spoke volumes of his deeds. While the fleet wasn’t the core of your interests, you would be a fool to bleep over the name Adama so flippantly.

>>3862903
>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’
>‘Right … thank you sir, have a good night.’
>‘Do you have any advice for me, sir?’
>‘Sir, if you don’t mind me asking about my … placement?’
>Write-In

>>3862904

>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’

>>3862903
>>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’

>>3862904
>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’

>>3862904
‘Do you have any advice for me, sir?’

>>3862904
>>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’

>>3862904
>>‘Leroy … you’re ... acquainted with Marshall Adama’s son? Sir?’

It’s party night. You really should have more on your mind than spotting threads and pulling on them, but … the absolute nerd that you are, you can’t really help yourself.

‘Leroy,’ you mumble, before hissing and squaring your shoulders; you weren’t raised with a soft voice so why start now? ‘Are you, uh … acquainted with Cap—Marshall Adama’s son, sir?’

He regards you silently. You shift uncomfortably in your spot, wondering if you’d inadvertently spilled yourself into an area that was off-limits … before realizing that, in all likelihood, you probably had. You hadn’t engaged Wray in idle conversation with such frequency that you’d give yourself a qualifier for such a line of questioning … and your curiosity had landed you in a pickle. You move to apologize and backtrack … just as the man himself lets out an audible snort, furrowing his brows in what you can only describe as amusement.

‘I introduced him to his wife,’ Wray reveals, his voice matching his expression. ‘We haven’t seen each other in a while, though. The last time I saw him was back during a small operation on Wichita’s Fourth Moon. A little too emotional, that one. Beats me just what Claudia saw in him to bear sticking around, but … I think that they’re happy together.’

He pauses for a moment.

‘I hope you understand the boundaries of the personal and the professional by me telling you all this, son.’

You frown. He hadn’t even told you that much.

>‘Yes, sir.’
>‘I … guess so.’
>‘We’re not exactly on the chrono, sir.’
>Write-In

>>3863928
>Wouldn't such information be more appropriate when taken personally rather than professionally? If you're asking for my silence, then you have it, sir.

>>3863928
>You told me something? Seems I've forgotten it. Shame."

>>3863928
>Sir, are you suggesting that I avoid trying to use your connections to my future Captain in any attempts to get on her good side? I suspect that attempting to do so would be more likely to result in my situation being worse off.

>>3863946
Supporting

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‘I assure you, Instructor, I’m merely trying to feed my curiosity,’ you practically stammer, ‘not trying to … make an attempt to play politics. I’m just … I wasn’t aware that you were acquainted with Cap—Marshall Adama’s son … or daughter-in-law.’

He seems to hesitate for a moment … before relenting. ‘I’ve known the Marshall since I was a Junior Lancer, actually. Back then, he was … I think that he was grounded for a good standard year or so. Got into a fight with a superior that happened to be a bastard of some House or something. He’s never been a man of many words; I’m surprised he made Marshall myself. Never seemed the type to brown-nose his way through the political side of things. His son Leroy was in the same Battlegroup as I was for a few campaigns and … I promised that I’d look out for him. Keep him out of trouble. I don’t think I’ve seen two extremes from the same root. Leroy’s nothing like his father and the only thing the Marshall passed on to his son is his eye-colour, jawline and hair.’

For some reason, you can’t help but … sympathize with Leroy.

You’re not quite sure why, but you do.

‘I think Claudia gets along better with her father-in-law than her own husband does,’ Wray chuckles wryly, practically smirking at the thought.

You dare not wedge any comment of your own into that.

‘She’s as competent as they come,’ Wray starts again, turning back to face you. ‘I haven’t known her to be an unreasonable figure, so as long as you keep your wits about you and don’t screw up too big, I don’t think she’ll swing a tool-box into your face.’

‘I’ll … try to remember that.’

Wray nods, before appearing to look … hesitant.

‘One thing that I’d like to ask you, though, soldier.’

‘Yes, sir?’

He eyes you with scrutiny. ‘You never asked me for a re-review of your performance when I delegated the recommendations and when the assignments came out. Why?’

You almost wince at the memory of the performance review. You’d hoped to have filed that away and let it be lost and forgotten in the scheme of things like the rest of the aspirants whose dreams were crushed by the standards of reality. You didn’t even think that Wray would bring it up to you in such a sudden and unexpected manner. He had said what he had wanted to say about your ambitions and how your abilities had been unable to reconcile or realize that ambition.

Still … the man had answered your questions. The least you could do was return the favor.

After all, you'd ...

>>3864001

>‘Because I … thought that it’d only be more of the same. More of what I already know.’
>‘I never … bothered to, really. What was done was done and … well, what good would it do?’
>‘I sort of … forgot.’
>‘Wait, I could have asked for a review?’
>‘I didn’t want to fight a hopeless cause and … you had better things to do.’
>Write-In

>>3864003
>‘Because I … thought that it’d only be more of the same. More of what I already know.’

>>3864003
>>‘Because I … thought that it’d only be more of the same. More of what I already know.’

>>3864003
>You delegated for a reason. Going crying to you because 'it was unfair' when it very much was would just be me acting like a child. I'd like to think I'd learned something of not being the stereotypical rich asshole who needs to get knocked down a peg or twelve. I asked those who gave evaluation, it was fair. It rankles, but sometimes you're just not good enough. So I'll have to man up and figure it out some other way.

>>3864001
>I figured you knew best, sir.

>>3864003
>>3864010
I like this

‘I … didn’t think there was anymore to be said beyond what you’d already delegated, sir,’ you answer with a slight stutter; even at his most casual and personable, Wray still cut quite the figure. The best way to approach this was as naturally and concisely as possible; you didn’t want to give him an excuse to obliterate you from existence. ‘Crying and whining about injustice with a handful of demands would have been childish. More than a mere statement, I’d like to believe that I’ve learned something from my failures and successes, even if I … fall short of the mark as your student. I regret that I was not able to do better, sir. It … I won’t pretend that I wish that I’d made it, but if I’m not good enough, I’m just not good enough. I’m not of sound qualification to question you or the other Instructors on the matter.’

He stares at you neutrally.

‘That’s all you have to say to that?’

‘Sir, yes sir,’ you answer confidently. You can feel Sansa’s apprehensive gaze upon you … and you don’t dare look away to merely reassure Rosaria that you quaking in your boots was the natural reaction to an encounter with the man standing before you. ‘I accept your judgment and will perform my duties to the best of my ability, sir.’

‘You’re not at all curious as to why I never brought up my practical examination of you as a pilot, then?’

>‘Uh, no, sir.’
>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’
>Write-In

>>3864066
>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’

>>3864066
’>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’

>>3864066
>>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’

>>3864066
>>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’

>>3864066
>‘I … a little bit, I suppose, sir.’

>>3864066
>‘Uh, no, sir.’

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‘I … a little bit, I suppose … sir.’

‘You’re a good pilot.’

He doesn’t miss a beat.

The reveal almost has you hacking and wheezing at the final syllable. The middle-aged man eyes you in amusement as you feel put your weight on your knees, trying to comprehend the praise that Darton bloody Wray had just anointed you by. The praise wasn’t odd; no. Not at all. He’d praised Jetdom; he’d commended Maldante and he’d even showed some measure of favouritism towards Reinweld. You, though, he’d merely thrown up his hands and pointed towards the command pod. You feel a small swell of … something in your chest, but the circumstances have you wondering if this was something of an elaborate prank by malicious minds.

Rosaria hurries to your side, giving you gentle pats on the back.

‘I … I am?’

Wray nods.

You dare not venture further than the affirmation you’d been granted.

‘You’re a good pilot,’ Wray continues as the bodies around you manoeuvre themselves like a stream around a rock, ‘Probably the best one-on-one engagement specialist that I’ve seen in your class. Your judgment in solo situations is commendable and your ability to engage and corner enemies is a foundation that you’ve honed well since you learned to start up a boot sequence; defensively, you’re the most sound cadet I’ve seen in the last few classes. As a pilot, you’re more learned than I can teach.’

‘But?’

There was always a but.

‘You break formation too easily; you rely on the terrain, your Mech and the advantages that you have at your disposal to devastating effect … but to unnecessary cost. Your engagement tendencies aren’t reckless, but they leave too many holes open to plug up. Your synergistic tendencies are at a bare zero and your adaptability scores don’t extend themselves to the ones under your command or the ones that you operate under. I can’t decide whether you see yourself as solo artist at heart or view yourself as a sacrificial pawn by default. Do you understand me, soldier?’

‘You believe that I … no, I don’t,’ you admit, looking to Sansa for support. She merely gives an uncertain shrug in response. ‘I … you think that I don’t have the … right mentality to be part of a Squadron.’

‘Being a pilot is more than just leading the charge and smacking enemy aces silly,’ he declares calmly. ‘You’re a good pilot … but out there you need to be more than just a good pilot and value more than trying to get another notch on the hull. Your objective, your team, everything around you … matters. Do you get me?’

‘I, uh …’

>Write-In

>>3864955
I thought I proved that when I took down Fisher, sir. Not to be an ass, but I know I'm important, had that drilled into e since birth. But a leader shouldn't ask of his men anything he would not do himself. Sometimes when you opponent is better than you, as she was, you have to be willing to force an opening, and frankly I was better suited to it than those under me.

>>3864955
>So... I am a solo Maverick which isn't suitable for working as part of a squadron.

>>3864964
>>3864975
Flipping a coin. Coin flipped.

‘That … you think that I have a tendency to be a maverick in regards to operation protocol … sir?’

‘That you have a tendency to operate on an almost suicidal tendency when you’re in the cockpit,’ he clarifies coolly, raising an indicative finger. ‘You’re operating with millions of crowns worth of equipment, a team at your back and an objective in mind. You are not re-enacting a serial. I’ve been back to the wall more times than I would’ve liked to be, but I never went out of my way to engage the enemy with only my wits as my fallback.’

‘It turned out pretty well for you, didn’t it, sir?’

You bite your tongue just a little too late.

‘Idiots who believe they’re invincible run out of luck sooner than they’d like,’ Wray declares, his tone as neutral as it had been during the course of the conversation. ‘A Chapter is strong because the ties that bind them. You have their back and they have yours. If you’re still gunning for a trial by a Chapter, you best learn that as soon as possible. There’s leading from the front and being the first body between a bullet and a man. You best remember that.’

His tone is grim and final.

‘I … I will,’ you hurriedly reply … before finding your tongue a little too twitchy to keep down. ‘But … sir, what if I … have to?’

‘Then do what you have to do,’ he answers simply, turning away. ‘Enjoy the party.’

A man from the ODF—you can tell by the red and blue uniform and the badge of flame—walks through the crowd, calling for Wray to follow them. Wray raises a casual hand in your direction as he’s lead away by the ODF Officer, leaving you with—

‘That was something, wasn’t it?’ Sansa finally speaks up, giggling above the sound of beats and bass.

You scowl at her in response.

‘What?’

‘Why didn’t you back me up?’ you practically whine, slightly irritated that she’d stayed mostly silent during the encounter.

‘Because I’m going to be here after you leave … and last I checked, Wray wasn’t throwing in any applications off-world.’

‘He isn’t?’

Sansa rolls her eyes … before grabbing a handful of your buttocks. You practically squeak, appalled at such … barbaric behaviour. A diatribe ready at the tip of your tongue, you move to lecture your younger mistress … until she squeezes again, tighter. You jump at her grip, cheeks pink and glaring down at her, only to find the pony-tailed young woman nestling into your side with a playful expression.

‘Come on,’ she starts cheerfully. ‘I believe that you were in the middle of kidnapping me …’

To your right, you hear Sansa’s giggles.

>Write-In (Meet with specific friend, visit specific place, etc)

>>3865141
>Meet with Gerard.
Lets see if we can't wingman for him also.

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Gerard’s right where you’d last spotted him: leaning on a glass loft above the bar directly opposite Fisher’s watering hole … and looking more disgruntled than you’d expected him to be.

It probably had to do with the equally-disgruntled redhead next to him … who, if it weren’t for the previous encounter, was someone you would have easily mistaken to be part of the night’s … entertainment. Not that you were interested, but the woman’s state of dress was certainly eye-popping; pink and nets and frills … you muse that your grandfather wouldn’t mind his own swing at her. She didn’t look like she was a girl from a small town on the plains at all; not that there were obvious indicators on Gerard, but …

‘Hey.’

She seriously looked like a hooker.

Gerard looks up, his eyes practically lighting up in relief at your arrival. It was the same expression that you’d seen him wear when the veterinarian informed him that his family’s prize cows hadn’t been suffering from ugrot. One that you return with a playful salute and small grin. The girl next to him—whose name that you couldn’t quite remember—raises her head, appearing to be puzzled at your sudden presence.

‘Jetdom,’ you greet with a snort, before turning to his … girlfriend.

Fiancee, technically.

Maybe.

What was her name again?

>Jodie
>Julie
>Elie
>Yuri
>Write-In

>>3865188
>Jodie

>>3865188
>Jodie

>>3865188
>>Jodie

>>3865188
>>Jodie

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‘It’s Jodie, isn’t it?’ you recall, giving a slight bow of your own. While you weren’t particularly keen on showing weakness of any sort to a woman you’d never formally met … you’d only be reverting if you decided to throw your belly out and sneering at her now. Besides, she hadn’t really given you reason to be dismissive, yet. ‘Jet—Gerard’s told me a great deal about you. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.’

She appears to be at a slight loss for words … before collecting herself and dropping into a small bow of her own. You briefly wonder if Gerard had told her anything of your origins … he’d kept the secret airtight from his family (As had you), but you weren’t keen on jumping on either assumption yet. People had a strange tendency to do complete reversals in mannerisms once the Mishima name was thrown around … and you’d like to at least be content with the illusion that Jetdom had decided to shack up with someone decent.

You were still new to this whole friendship thing.

This level of self-awareness of your own concern for those that you knew beyond a name and a face was a little … disorienting at times.

‘A pleasure to make yours,’ she replies, dipping into a slight bow of her own, her voice taking a more dainty quality compared to the growls and rumbles that had hit your ears earlier in the day. ‘You must be …’

She looked as if a light had shone through clouded for thoughts.

‘Oh, you’re the one that Gerard brought back to the farm back then!’ Jodie cries out … a little too loudly for your tastes. ‘I saw you! You’ve gone a little …’

Jodie trails off, holding her two hands up at a ninety degree angle, palms facing one another but not quite touching. It was obvious that she was referring to your previous … birth. Judging by her tone, however, it seemed that Gerard hadn’t quite explained the extent of your friendship just yet. You let out a small chuckle, nodding in affirmation.

‘Thank you. I don’t seem to recall having seen you though.’

‘I caught you and Gerard coming in on the way out back … was it five? Four years ago? I was on the transport headed out when you guys hit town,’ she elaborates, smiling brightly. ‘Did you enjoy your time on the farm? I heard the kids took quite a liking to you.’

‘More like a liking to his stuff,’ Gerard quips, chuckling into a closed fist.

Your roll your eyes, considering a response.

>‘It was an … experience. I’m … my family and I aren’t exactly close, so seeing that sort of … chaos was an eye-opener.’
>‘Not particularly.’
>‘Actually … I did. I especially liked the part when his mom said I did more work around the place than he did.’
>Write-In

>>3869333
>‘It was an … experience. I’m … my family and I aren’t exactly close, so seeing that sort of … chaos was an eye-opener.’

>>3869333
>>‘Actually … I did. I especially liked the part when his mom said I did more work around the place than he did.’

>>3869333
>‘It was an … experience. I’m … my family and I aren’t exactly close, so seeing that sort of … chaos was an eye-opener.’

>>3869333
>>‘It was an … experience. I’m … my family and I aren’t exactly close, so seeing that sort of … chaos was an eye-opener.’

>>3869333
>‘Not particularly.’

>>3869333
>>‘Actually … I did. I especially liked the part when his mom said I did more work around the place than he did.’

>>3869333
>>‘It was an … experience. I’m … my family and I aren’t exactly close, so seeing that sort of … chaos was an eye-opener.’

Session in a bit.

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There was one thing that stood out during your stay on the farm.

But you had to do one thing before anything else.

‘My apologies,’ you declare in a rather affected fashion, gesturing to your two female companions. ‘Before we proceed any further … Miss Jodie, these are my companions, Miss Rosaria El Moldavor Spirance’—you make a mental whoop at having remembered the intricacies of enunciation—‘and … Sansa Wilmots.’

It is then … and only then, that you notice that Sansa’s hand had never quite left the cheek of your buttocks. Your gesture must have been pleasing for her as it’s by then that you feel a rather … exceptional squeeze from the dark-haired woman as she extends a hand for Miss Jodie to take. Rosaria, however, does no such thing, instead stooping into a rather nervous—but overall dainty—bow. The three women exchange brief pleasantries, and with that out of the way, you decide to not be rude and actually answer her inquiry before you were put off as one of uncivilized lineage.

‘To, ah … reinforce your statement, I actually … well, I won’t say that it was an exceptional experience, but,’ you pause, considering the next jumble of words that would slather the night air … before giving Gerard a brief, envious look and finding just what you had (and wanted) to put out. ‘My family isn’t exactly close. We’re practically spread out all over the universe. I’ve never been on a farm before, so actually seeing all that chaos … all that yelling, running around, all that noise, it … I … it was an eye-opener, definitely. Made me more appreciative of the hard work that goes into settling worlds.’

You and Gerard share a short chuckle. It was definitely an experience. Having to wake up on a set schedule, needing to bale the hey and make sure the soil was at fertile levels on daily basis … you’d been aware of the perils and pitfalls of settling a world. Rhysode was a young world, but you weren’t informed of the harsh, practical reality of making a world rightly inhabitable for the Imperial citizenry. On the plus side, you rather enjoyed having fresh milk and eating fresh vegetables from the soil of a terraformed world, hot and ready to be devoured … and you did very much loved rubbing it in Gerard’s face that you were able to sort yourself with the chores better than he could manage.

For someone so used to having the servants deliver things to his table, you were quite proud of such an achievement.

Jodie eyes you curiously, wearing an odd smile and furrowing her brows in visible curiosity.

‘You … talk funny.’

Rather than annoyed, you find yourself surprised by the statement.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just … I did a linguistics elective and they talk about the localization of accents and you sound like you’re, um … I mean, I know you’re probably not from around here …’

She laughs apologetically, scratching the back of her head.

‘It’s like … I mean, you sound like my professor trying to speak local slang. It just … it’s kinda janky.’

‘Jodie,’ Gerard starts warningly, frowning in what you surmise to be disapproval.

>‘Fascinating.’ (Interested)
>(Speak High Gothic)
>‘Good to know.’ (Casual)
>Write-In

>>3871373
>(Speak High Gothic)

>>3871373
>Is it really that apparent?
>So what motivated you to take that class in particular?

>>3871371
>(Speak High Gothic)

>>3871374
>>3871378
why are we outing ourself?

Like if our bro engages her? I could see it, but not untl then.

>>3871373
>‘Good to know.’ (Casual)

>>3871373
>>‘Fascinating.’ (Interested)

>>3871373
>(Speak High Gothic)

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You really can’t help it.

‘Does this manner of speech flow better for you? I’m impartial to it myself.’

You can feel two gazes, one of disapproval and the other of warning, falling upon you as High Gothic rolls off your tongue. Gerard’s narrowed eyes look straight at you, promising words in a very near future. A smirk almost carves itself into the corners of your lips. It wasn’t often that you got to show off … and while your ego was much more in check than it would have been years ago, you couldn’t say that the name Mishima had lost all its purpose in furthering your own sense of fun.

You are still a Scion, after all.

Throwing your weight around still had its merits.

Jodie, however, much to your surprise, claps her hands together, eyes widening in what seems to be … fascination. ‘Ah, that’s … that’s High Gothic, isn’t it?’

You can’t help but be amused. Perhaps Gerard had found a keeper after all.

‘Exceptional precision, Miss Jodie.’

‘I’ve never heard it spoken so smoothly; you could pass for a …’

She makes sound akin to a choking canine. Her pupils shrink as her eyes widen even further than they’d reached before. To your right, you hear the growling of a disapproving Sansa, who, in all likelihood, probably had half a mind to sock you in the jaw.

‘P-P-PLEASE FORGIVE MY IMPERTINENCE—’

You start to chortle—

‘—LORD REINWELD!’

Something in your depths of your mind … breaks. You feel the blood drain from your face as she practically cries the name out. Despair and disbelief scratch at your very soul as the name booms a thousand times louder with every passing nano-second.

Gerard looks away, trying his hardest not to laugh.

The bastard.

>Write-In

>>3871611
>Why does everyone guess Emilio first? (sulk a bit)

>>3871614
oughta work

>>3871611
>>3871614

Ayyyy, this.

>>3871611
>>3871614
this

>>3871611
support>>3871614
also kek

>>3871611
>Write In
>"IT IS I! EMILIO REINWELD" (pretend to be Emilio)
Sulking is for wusses. Let's have some fun

>>3871715
This

>>3871614
This

>>3871611
>>3871715
This is the choice

They can’t keep all of it in.

The laughter of your friends is barely a tonic on your mood. Rosaria, bless her, doesn’t quite drop into hysterics, instead looking confounded by the sudden cackles that shaped the current atmosphere. Sansa had detached herself from your arm, instead focusing on keeping herself from rolling on the floor by balancing herself on her knees, snorts and snickers escaping through her nose. Jodie, meanwhile, spares her boyfriend an odd look, furrowing her brows as the latter hung onto the rails as if for dear life. You stand in the middle of it all, embarrassed by a statement that should have washed over you like a brief shower.

You move to right the situation.

‘Why does everyone always guess Emilio first?’ you grumble, crossing your arms across your chest, sparing the pony-tailed woman hunched over next to you a look. ‘Is my presence just an afterthought next to him?’

Sansa regains her bearings, throwing a playful wink in your direction as she adjusts her pony-tail. ‘Well,’ she starts, ‘you have managed to keep a low profile rather effectively. It’s only normal that they’d guess Emilio first, you know?’

You let out a grumble, making your lack of amusement as obvious as possible. You preferred anonymity to mistaken identity. Especially when that identity happened to be Emilio Reinweld’s.

‘Huh?’ Jodie sounds out, her confusion more than apparent.

‘Wrong Scion, Jodie,’ Gerard manages, smirking in your direction. ‘Mishima.’

If the blood had drained from her face before, it had positively evaporated at the reveal of her mistake. You want to stick your nose up high, basking in the superiority … until you find her on all fours, knees on the floor, prostrating in your direction in a manner that reminds you all too well of your family’s staff in the wake of a mistake. Gerard kneels to get her to her feet, but the scene was already unfolding … and you can feel more eyes on your person with every passing atto-second.

‘F-Forgive me for my mistake, please, Young Lord Mishima!’ Jodie cries out in a tone that’s much too desperate—and a volume too loud—for you not to pay notice. It’s again, a reminder of just what and who you are … and what the name Mishima means to her and the trillions that littered the Imperium.

Gerard looks distraught, his hands hovering above her shoulders as Rosaria, to your left, mirrors your friend’s expression. Sansa crouches, reaching for the young woman in an attempt to get her to her feet, before looking up at you with an odd expression.

Did she … expect you to say something?

You hadn’t expected the woman to practically kiss the ground in fear at the mention of your name.

What could you do?

>Write-In

>>3874695
jody, please stand up, you're not only embarrassing yourself but everyone else here, including me. I spent a long time at your boy friends farm and I am not the stuck up asshole I used to be. Reinwald and I just don't get along. Seriously stand up, I'm not going to be a jerk cause you guessed wrong.

>>3874695
>No offense taken. I was actually impressed that you realized that I was a Scion from only a few words... and it feels wrong to make a friend's fiance grovel.

>>3874695
>>Write-In
Go down and bring her up to her feet. "Hey, hey. It's alright. No harm, no foul. And among friends, I'd not have someone grovel at my feet." Smile at her, bumble a bit, put her abit more at ease.

>>3874695
>>3874709
This. Casual is the way to go

You didn’t know Jodie and you really didn’t think it was wise to extend your … concern so easily, but considering the commotion that her actions were building up to, it was a reasonable alternative to explore. Closing your eyes and letting out a sigh, you swallow what little protocol adherence you had left … and lowered yourself, one knee on the ground.

Gerard throws you a brief, thankful look.

It was the least he could do.

‘You have wrought neither harm nor foul with your mistake, Miss,’ you let out in a faux-superior tone, prompting the woman to nervously raise her head to meet your gaze. ‘Not enough to warrant grovelling for, anyway. On your feet, now … unless you’re more comfortable kissing the floor. I’m positive there are some parties that are willing to find you in such a position.’

Gerard holds up an obscene gesture. You remind yourself that had it been anyone else, you’d have socked them by now. However, you’d humiliated Gerard on his home ground and in the eyes of his kin. The barrels and bovines were witness to your mighty deeds. This was nothing. You could let it slide. Jodie tentatively looks up, still visibly shivering. If your mother was in your position, you could see her sending the woman off with a dismissive gesture and perhaps half a click of a tongue. Your father would probably just send them away or …

You try not to think about what your father would and could do.

‘It’s all right,’ you reassure her, holding your hand for her to take. She doesn’t, of course, breathing hard as she tries to get to her feet, dusting herself off … but as far as you were concerned, you’d presented the gesture. That was it for you.

‘I’m … I’m really sorry,’ Jodie stammers, glancing at Gerard before looking to the floor in what was likely shame. ‘I … I didn’t know that House Mishima had … no, I knew, but … I didn’t know that Gerard was … I didn’t know that you were, um … his acquaintance. Forgive my error, Lord Mishima.’

You roll your eyes, shoulders drooping. ‘You don’t have to be all tight-laced, you know,’ you communicate casually. ‘It’s not like I’m … well, you just don’t have to. I’d prefer it if you were a lot less … skittish. I think all of us would.’

Jodie nods quickly.

Good. As long as she understood.

‘I … forgive me, my Lord, I’m just … a little overwhelmed. Gerard never—um … I never thought that he’d actually be acquainted with … two Scions. Both Scions. He told me about Reinweld, but—’

‘Slow down, will you?’

She squeaks.

‘He’s a lot less predatory than he looks, Jodie.’

You fix Gerard with a flat stare. Jodie, to your pleasant surprise, smacks his shoulder, aghast.

‘Excuse me?’

‘What?’ Gerard chuckles, grinning. ‘It’s true.’

‘Stronger, too.’

Your friend frowns, not at all enjoying his turn at the end of the firing line.

Life was give-and-take.

>Write-In

>>3874772
>>Write-In
"Wanna get some drinks? We're about to hit the taps and drain the distillery."

Then when walking away, quietly to gerard. "So, did you fix it?"

>>3874774
I'll support that.

‘What say we go get some drinks?’ you suggest, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the bar. ‘I was thinking about hitting the bar and getting some yellow and green down my throat before the night’s done. Sound good?’

Gerard scratches the top of his head, looking thoughtful … and reluctant.

‘I don’t feel like getting smashed tonight,’ he admits, wearing an expression that looked as though he’d finished chewing his tongue. ‘That’s more Ryosuke’s thing, I think.’

‘Yeah, just saw him trying to chat up a pretty number by the bar,’ you respond, prompting Gerard’s further surprise. ‘He was doing quite well by the time I left him.’

‘Was he? I’d believe that you’d finally decided to live up to the reputation of Scions before I believe that.’

>‘What makes you think I haven’t?’
>‘Heh.’
>‘Fair enough.’
>Write-In

>>3874815
>Wide grin while holding up two fingers.

>>3874817
I have no idea what this communicates in the context of the conversation. I know it means "two girls", but it really doesn't say anything or tells me how to proceed proper.

>>3874831
Pretty much a non-verbal version of "What makes you think I haven't"

>>3874815
>‘Heh.’

>>3874817
That sort of jocularity seems a bit out of character, in my opinion.

>>3874815
>‘Heh.’

>>3874815
>Heh