This is a highly narcissistic fanfic.
The author will not be held responsible should any nasal hemorrhages occur from the immense amount of sexiness that is to follow.
CHAPTER 1 - I Am Ridiculously Tempting
Oh curse the Maker, bless His name, for making me so sexually appealing.
In all honesty! It is almost ridiculous how attractive I am. Even now I want to make sweet love to myself!
But of course I would not.
No, I shall save myself for the thousands of sacrificial lambs who want me and my deliciously textured (READ: wrinkled) human shell.
Jihl, for example.
Oh, poor Jihl. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me.
Lust.
Longing.
It is rather apparent, of course.
I would not be surprised if she were to confess she joined the Cavalry for the sole purpose of being near me and my luscious body.
Hmm... is that girl in the Cavalry or PSICOM or... ah, never mind. It would not matter either way, seeing as she would die sooner or later.
Although I pity her; imagine, dying unfulfilled, her lustful craving for me and my sizzling-hot buttock wrinkles unsatisfied. The horror!
But it is not just Jihl, I am sad to say.
All of those gullible insects basking in their spoiled little utopia will also die unfulfilled, despite the fallacious care I have given them.
As a fal'Cie, my sole purpose in life is to orchestrate the return of the Maker, but as a venerable sex symbol I simply cannot allow this abomination to occur.
I must give the people even a shred of my seductive prowess, which they have craved for so long (two hours? Yes. The last broadcast was two hours ago. I am surprised I consider them spoiled at this rate).
"Jihl," I called out in that temptingly raspy voice I always use.
"Yes, Primarch?" she answered almost immediately, appearing out of somewhere that is beyond my range of vision at the given moment (because, honestly, 'nowhere' should not even be considered a word, as anywhere is somewhere. Goodness. I am desirable in both intellectual and physical ways. But of course I should be, as I am Galenth Dysley).
Yes. She was probably waiting outside the door, touching herself while thinking about me.
Who would be able to resist doing that, though? I have already fully acknowledged the fact that every Cocoon inhabitant does it at least daily.
"Put me on the monitors. I wish to speak to the citizens." I am completely sure she just got an orgy.
Even though she is just staring blankly at me.
She has gotten so good at hiding her spasm attacks, it's ludicrous.
"Yes, Primarch," she replied with a formal bow.
Why is it that she smirks at everyone except me?
But of course, this is only further proof of how much she wants me.
Galenth Dysley, anyone?
He always talks in that weird, overly highbrow way, doesn't he? =.=
(Gonna need a dictionary. Gohdfockindamnit.)
THIS IS NOT A DYSLEYxJIHL FIC. THERE ARE NO PAIRINGS IN HERE BUT DYSLEYxBARTHANDELUSxPRIMARCH.
Oh yeah. I just gave you a new OT3, didn't I?
This fic was inspired by the super fabulous amazing fic "Alois Trancy's Super Fabulous Amazing Diary" by the super fabulous amazing kaaaaarl.
REVIEW FAVE ALERT AND EVARYTHING.