Disclaimer: I own nothing. Pokegirls originally came from Metroanime and I literally own nothing. I am not making any money off of this, and I do not plan to profit by this endeavor.
/Run
Celaboner was a nice city. It was a monument to the human ability to rebuild after disaster. Towering buildings, several entertainment districts, and a massive sprawl of residential neighborhoods all in the center of the continent. Plenty of gardens and parks, cared for by the Celaboner Gym and it's leader, who had what some might call an unhealthy 'appreciation' for Plant type Pokegirls. The Two-Hearts Ranch was also a big draw, for it's raising and sale of elemental Pokegirl breeds of all stripes. The Casinos, situated in the entertainment districts, were the biggest draw for out-of-towners. They were the reason so many flocked to the Game Centers of Celaboner. Hotels, gambling, and all situated in a metropolitan location giving the place a certain 'city that never sleeps' kind of feel along with 'what happens here stays here' vibe.
So, when a young man woke up in a hotel in one of the many casinos? It would normally not be an event to note. When one takes into account that the bed he awoke in was not the one he remembered going to bed in, considering the atmosphere of Celaboner, it was even less noteworthy. Even considering he awoke to the odd sensation of someone in the bed with him would be considered so mundane in Celaboner that it'd be more noteworthy if he hadn't.
But when the man named Markus awoke to these things? It was cause for concern. For you see? He'd gone to bed last night in his home in Minnesota, in his own bed with only his cat for company, and she refused to be near him when he slept because he would move about in his sleep. It took him a few moments to realize that things were different.
First, the bed was decidedly not the second-hand mattress he'd had previously. He was too damned poor to afford any kind of new bed. Secondly, when he opened his eyes the ceiling was entirely different. He hated to mentally make the Evangelion reference, but it was there. Thirdly and most importantly, while the air conditioner was running and the room was cool (To his taste, since he hated being too warm) he was not in any way cool. Even discounting the somewhat flimsy covers he was under (Another difference, given that he had specific tastes for his personal bedding which involved colorful designs and such) he was still nice and warm.
Why? Because of the slightly more clear tactile sensation of someone being in the bed with him.
Now, Markus was not a heavy drinker. Not by a long shot. He'd have a beer here and there, maybe a few shots of rum every now and again to relax, but to wake up in what looked to be a hotel room with what looked like a very attractive young woman using him as a body-pillow, whether she was fully clothed or no, was something of a panic-inducing nightmare for the young man. With social movements as they had become in his life? It was scary. If the girl wanted to? She could very well claim he'd raped her, and no matter how drunk HE might have been, he'd be at fault. Even if they'd both been drunk off their asses, the woman's story was usually believed, and the man involved was considered to be responsible while the female was considered to be beyond reproach.
This was one of the many reasons Markus had avoided the very concept of being in a relationship, and in fact privately called them 'relation-shits' after he'd heard the term on Youtube.
He was naked. She wasn't. Strike 1. The room smelled of sex, now that he was awake enough to realize it. Strike 2. He had to have gotten beyond drunk at some point, to the point that he didn't even remember getting drunk, or the days prior in which he'd decided to take a vacation, use some of his piddly paycheck to check into a hotel, and then get himself drunk enough to go against his deeply-ingrained fear of personal contact with the female of the species.
As he nearly tumbled out of the bed in a panic, the girl rather obviously woke up and stretched, showing off a certain physique that, if this were one of his sessions of surfing for porn, would have made him immediately click on the thumbnail to see what she'd do.
The woman had soft features, despite seemingly having no body fat whatsoever, and long blond hair that looked like something he, himself, would love to have if his job hadn't forced him to cut his goddamned hair...
That was another thing. He had his goatee and his long hair back. As Markus fumbled about, he saw that his hair was back to the length it had been before his employers had told him he needed to cut it, and his goatee was even better than it had been! He missed that beard... More than he missed being unemployed, since he'd begun growing it back despite it 'not looking professional.'
He internally scoffed as the thought passed his mind, right before his train of thought got derailed once again by noticing that the girl wore a collar. It was a very well cared-for and very high end collar, not a simple strap of leather with a buckle. It looked to be made of dark leather embossed with what he recognized as 'angelic script' from his few trips down the rabbit hole with Christianity. The underside was lined with black silk or cotton or... he couldn't tell, only that it was apparently soft given the way it contoured around her neck. The very front of it held a small bar of metal which, if his eyes didn't deceive him, read, 'Salohiel. If found, please contact Markus W.' followed by his cell phone number.
Now, he knew the name. He'd used it many a time for various angelic-style characters he'd written, or he'd played in his Tabletop RPGs. But to then see his name... ON A COLLAR... being worn by a girl who could only be described as 'Perfect...' was not something his sleep-addled brain was ready to cope with while still trying to boot up necessary systems.
Such as the sudden need to go to the bathroom. He couldn't tell if it was to throw up or to evacuate in the other direction, but his body moved on auto pilot. Nakedness ignored, his need for the bathroom overrode that pithy concern. If he was going to go to prison? He'd go comfortable and not needing to use the police station's 'inmate bathroom.' he had enough privacy issues, damn it.
"Master?" The voice of the girl came just as he pulled the door closed behind him. Nope. He didn't hear that. He was kinky in his mind, sure, and would have likely done a lot of work to get that kind of thing going with a girl, but hearing it in his 31 year old cynical mindset was not something he ever expected to happen.
It was only after his body decided to allow him the dignity of only needing to go numbers 1 & 2 that he finally began to calm down. When he went to the hotel room sink? He finally got a look at himself.
He looked... Different. A bit more healthy? Like he spent more time outside, maybe? Bit more time at the gym? He'd learned the basics of Capoeira, Muay Thai, and Karate, sure, but he'd never had the willpower (or the time) to go into it as deeply as he'd wished. It was a source of shame for Markus that he'd given up... Still. The vision in the mirror told a different story. Instead of the belly he was used to seeing he saw a chest more defined and a stomach that didn't stick out over his waistline... Sure it wasn't a six- pack, but it looked like with a bit of effort he might be on the right track for it? And he wasn't wearing his glasses? He'd needed those for years since he was 5 years old! And yet when he looked back around? He could see just fine. Like he could when he was wearing his glasses!
What. The. Fuck.
Markus might not have had the willpower to stay in karate, but he was proud of what he did have at that moment. Enough to not faint given that he was naked in an unknown bathroom with a girl outside wearing a collar with his name on it, the room smelled like sex despite the possibility that nothing had actually happened due to said girl being fully clothed.
When he came out of the room he saw that same girl sitting on the bed watching the T.V. On the screen was a news anchor he'd never seen talking about things that plain didn't make any sense. Leagues, regulations, championships... OK, that last one made some sense, but how was this news? Was she watching ESPN?
The girl looked up at his reentry to the room. "Master!" she cried, throwing the remote to the bed. "You scared me, there! All you needed was to use the bathroom? Must have been some need to have you rolling out of bed, eh?" she asked as she grinned. Her voice was like music. The kind of voice he'd always imagined belonged in a choir singing hymnals or hallelujahs.
"Um..." Markus tried to think of how to respond to all of this, but failed. Instead? He simply went to where he saw his pile of clothing and began to put on the clothes... he'd assumed they were his, anyway. The boxers, pants, socks, and T-Shirt were plain, black, and they fit him. The shoes were different to anything he'd owned in the last 10 years, though. Good solid boots, those. Black leather that went up to his calves, solid soles of good rubber with a good traction-enhancing pattern... They reminded him of the boots he'd loved to wear when he was a teenager and didn't have to shill out the $150 price tag when he'd needed a new pair.
The jacket was also something he'd wear, but never remembered owning. All of his jackets were either from second-hand shops or the low-quality kinds you'd get from, like, Walmart.
This one? This was nice, supple leather lined with silk and seemed to have been made specifically for him. The patches showed that it had been through hell and back and still stood the tests of time and the elements and god only knows what else.
"Master?" The voice drew mark back from his musings on the clothes.
"Uh..." Again, a lack of words, but then his brain got going again. "Yeah? Salohiel? This is gonna sound..." he chuckled nervously, "absolutely insane, but I think I'm in the wrong place? Where, exactly, am I?" he asked. "And... Don't take this the wrong way but... Who are you?"
The blond, dressed now that he took the time to appreciate it in what looked like a business suit fitted to her voluptuous form, blinked a couple of times before getting up and putting one of her wrists against Markus's forehead.
"No fever... And my Aura should have taken care of anything else." she said, mostly to herself. "Master? Are you playing with me? That joke about... 'banging me like a drum' and 'fucking my brains out?'" she asked. "I mean, I'll admit the sex was nice last night, but you know I like it best when we're outside under the open sky."
It was Markus's turn to blink, now. She was an exhibitionist?
"Uh. No? I'm serious, here." he said, trying to remain calm. "I really, REALLY don't want to get into trouble, and I don't even remember getting drunk enough to wake up... wherever the hell we are. Let alone do so with you in a bed, in a hotel I don't remember coming to."
Salohiel's eyes hardened a bit. "Master. This isn't funny. This joke has just passed the point where I might have laughed and gone into the land of 'annoying.'" she said, her voice gaining a bit of an edge.
"I know. If this IS a joke, I'd love to know the punch line, because I just woke up with a woman wearing a collar with my name on it, in a hotel I don't remember coming to, in a room that smells fadingly of sex. The last thing I remember is going to bed in Minnesota... oh god, what'd I do with Duchess? That cat's gonna kill me if I didn't leave enough food for her..." he recalled his cat, again. Duchess was his 'pretty kitty' after all. If he'd left her with his roommate while he went on vacation? That'd be a nightmare when he got home.
"Who in the nine Hells is Duchess?" Salohiel asked, suddenly very confused. If her master was telling the truth, and not just taking a joke too far, then this was a very strange situation. Normally even her master knew when to drop the joke with her. He'd made a few such jokes before, but she always made sure to let him know these days when it stopped being funny and he'd drop it.
This time, not so much.
"Duchess is my cat." Markus said. "Adorable little black cat. I'm slightly worried that I might have left her back in Minnesota before going on this little vacation?" He still wasn't sure what was going on... This was like a surreal mix of 'Dude, where's my Car' and 'The Hangover.' he had no idea where he was, he had no idea how he'd gotten there, and he had absolutely no clue as to what was going on.
"Master... What's Minnesota?" Salohiel asked. She'd never heard the word, before.
"Minnesota? The state? Upper Midwest? Known as the most temperate region on the planet? Actually declared 'unfit for human habitation' back in World War 2, ya know. Mainly because the winters are a nightmare." he said, recalling the fact because it always made him laugh a bit at having been born and raised in such a place.
"Master, States haven't existed for the last 300 years. There are only the Leagues..." Salohiel was hoping to dispel this madness with a bit of fact.
"Leagues? Like, the football leagues? Major League Baseball? Sports leagues and such?" he asked, dreading the answer, because the only 'league' he'd ever really paid much attention to were fictional. Pokemon games and... more 'mature' content found on the internet.
"As in the Indigo League, Johto, Blue, Edo, White Lotus..." Salohiel listed off, confirming Markus's growing fear.
It took him only a moment to respond, and when he did he summed up his thoughts as eloquently and succinctly as he possibly could.
"Fuck me running. Sideways. With a rake." He said.
Salohiel smiled. "Not into the kinkier stuff near the end, but the first two words seem like a wonderful idea." She said, showing off perfect teeth in that smile. "But first? Let's examine the facts. Firstly, we're in Celaboner City. Second, We're in the Hotel Battle Royale after a night of 'stimulating' nocturnal activities preceded by gambling and a bit of light drinking. VERY light drinking. Third, we've been here for two months." She listed off the current facts of the situation as she recalled them. The pertinent ones, anyway. "Anything to add?" She finished.
Markus nodded. "One, My name is Markus. Two, you have a collar with my name, and a cellphone number I recognize as mine. Three, You've mentioned Celaboner City, which implies, lord help me, that I'm in a world I thought only existed in the digital pages of a niche fetish fiction community. Four, The last thing I remember before waking up here is going to sleep in my own bed, in the room I rented from my buddy from community college... The fact that I am here right now greatly disturbs me, and I can't help but wonder if this is a hallucination brought on by too much stress, if I am dreaming and this is just shameless wish-fulfillment, or if I'm actually here, real, and not any of the previous. And no, pinching me doesn't work. That's a big myth. You always 'feel' pain in dreams, but you don't actually 'feel' it because the mind will always try to keep a dream going if it's not ready to wake up." He sighed, seeing the girl was getting ready to do just that.
"Well, Master? It sounds like you've got a problem. Because I'm still feeling the Alpha Bond, and I'm not going to go through the hassle of abandoning my steady source of Taming because of a slight hiccup. We've been through this every Sadie Poken's Day for the last four years since you got me." Salohiel said, keeping her voice calm and patient. She'd dealt with insanity before. The less said about the last Tamer she'd had, the better. The man had tried to keep a Neo Iczel in the Harem and wouldn't 'give in' to her taunting and attempts to become the Alpha.
"So... What Breed are you?" Markus asked. "I can take a few guesses, based on the name if I'm the one who gave you that name, but I'd rather hear it straight from you." He explained.
"Angel, Avenger Subtype." Salohiel said, smiling. "You always say that I act more like an Elysian than an Avenger in private, but that's just how I am. You did give me a new name when you got me, because me being named 'Miss Fluffyfeathers' was in neither of our best interests if we wanted to be taken seriously."
"Miss... 'Fluffyfeathers.'" Markus repeated. "Who the smeg would name a human-like being... Miss... Fluffyfeathers?" He asked, still trying to come to terms with the words, and coming out haltingly because of it.
"My former, and first, owner." Salohiel shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand it. I told him my original name was Julia, but he just didn't care. When you bought me off of him? We discussed it, and you, being my owner, thought 'Salohiel' fit me better. I think it does, too, and gives me a bit more credence as a Celestial type."
"Well thank fuck for that, at least." Markus said, somewhat relieved of one potentially embarrassing worry... now he 'only' had to deal with the fact that he was, seemingly, in the middle of finding out that the Multiverse Theory was in fact correct and that he had somehow managed to traverse the barriers and he apparently had a life in this world where he was fairly certain one had not existed previously. Only.
With that thought in mind Markus took out his phone, which was of a make and model he'd never heard of, and began scrolling through what he'd assumed were contacts. Each was was associated with a picture (something he never cared to do on his iPhones...) and most of said pictures fell into two categories.
Benign, such as his 'Mom's Cell' contact showing a picture of a much healthier and more active figure he recognized in broad strokes as his mother wearing exercise clothing and smiling at the camera, likely inside a gym of some kind... His 'Dad's Cell' contact, which showed a man who looked again much healthier and more active but looked much closer to his mental image of his dad than his mother's picture.
And Pornographic, such as nearly every picture not associated with a name he recognized. The fact that a majority of those contacts were listed under the subcategory of 'booty call' disturbed him, greatly.
Markus had never been one for the act of sex, after all. He'd tried it. Three times, in fact. Same night, so he only counted it as once, but he'd tried it! It wasn't his favorite pastime. Porn was more his thing, which made him wonder often whether or not he was just a voyeur. To find out that this 'version' of himself? Had over 30 people in his contacts list, Salohiel included, under his 'booty call' contact group? It was rather surreal. And a drastic left-turn from what he knew of himself.
When he pointed the 'phone' at Salohiel, during his pacing, the stupid thing BEEPED at him, shoving aside the contacts listing and showed him a display of Salohiel, her battle record, her physical stats, even her GPA and the T2s she'd been put through such as 'cooking,' 'house-work,' and 'Finance Basics.'
"Wow. Did I put you through those T2s?" He asked. "I didn't even know 'Finance Basics' was a thing..."
"Yes, you did. At least the finance and Housework ones. Cooking was from my old owner." Salohiel supplied the answer happily. Her Master's change in personality was odd, but then, she'd met Pokegirls who'd undergone a Level 4 and even level 5 Taming Cycles. Radical Personality Change (RPC) wasn't a common thing amongst humans, let alone Tamers, but it was a noted phenomenon nonetheless. "I'm glad you're done panicking?" Her voice tilted in tone upwards near the end, turning it into a question more than the statement as which she'd started it.
"Oh, I'm still utterly terrified right now, but given that this is either wish-fulfillment dreaming, or reality? I'm gonna roll with it, for now. When I see the Holodeck beneath the veneer, that's when I'll start worrying in full, again." Markus explained, going through the apps on what he now recognized as a very nice model of a Pokedex.
His finances were, seemingly, in the 'comfortably stable' range, with investments listed under the name of the man he'd used for his IRA account in 'the real world' as he thought of it. Either this hallucination was really thorough, or this world had a lot of commonalities with his own. his father was listed as a retired Watcher who'd become a Researcher focused mainly on computer technology rather than on Pokegirls... Another big difference from his memories of the world he'd written and played in before. Most Researchers seemed to be utterly focused on studying, and some might say exploiting, Pokegirls for the advancement of technology. Turned out that there were, in fact, a bunch of League-employed Researchers focused on more mundane subjects.
Markus found his own licensing as a Tamer, though he only had Salohiel listed as being a member of his Harem. The license was dated back to, based on some quick math and looking at the calendar, Markus would have been 23 years old... About the same time he'd gotten his driver's license in the 'real' world. His Starter was listed as having chosen a new owner during that Sadie Poken's Day festival...
"Wow. Am I that bad of a Tamer?" He asked, laughing a little. "I mean, I've had my license for almost 10 years, now, and I've only got one Pokegirl to my name? The rest have all left during the Sadie Poken's Day Festivals since then. Angela, Mary, Sarah, Susan, Aki... Wow, I lost a Kunoichi to salvage. That's painful to my ego... Then lost the Shieldmaiden I had left the next Sadie Poken's Day? Jesus H. Christ, that's painful." He sighed.
"Well... not to put too fine a point on it, Master, but your ambitions so far have always been to make just enough money to survive and little else, moving from place to place, selling off all but a small core of Pokegirls you chose mainly for their looks rather than personality and Harem Compatibility..." she listed off his seemingly many failings as a Tamer one by one, each one felt like another punch to his fragile little ego. Small stones flung via catapult at the glass dome of his psyche.
"But..." she continued. "When we met? You were about ready to call it quits. We've been tooling about for about 4 years, now, master, training me up and trying to get enough money to buy a Shield Stone..." she finished by wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Don't worry, master. We've had this talk before, but since you don't recall it right now? You're mine and I am yours. Until we either reach the Championship, or we both retire happy and wealthy at the age of 45 to spend the rest of our days sunning ourselves on the beaches of Cinnabuns Island... Or maybe to become Rangers at the Safari Zone National Park." She finished with a grin.
Markus was taken aback by the tone of her voice. She actually cared? he could tell she did, in fact, by the way she spoke. She was simply stating facts, not making vague promises or leading him on. he'd gotten very used to that, and somewhat good at recognizing when people were doing it. No, she was actually honest about it. She actually cared. Not just 'gives a shit' but actually *cared* about him and this goal.
Markus had never won anything in his life, aside from that karate tournament when he was, like, 8. The tournament for White - Green belts, anyway. Markus sighed and looked down at the phone's readout of the girl in front of him. In the display, she had her wings out and fully extended. The stats, from what he could see, were rather impressive for the sole member of a Harem, and a mid-level evolution like an Angel.
"I dunno how I feel about any of this." Markus said. "I mean, I just woke up to find out, effectively, I've been in as committed a relationship as one can be in when taking into account the world in which I find myself... In a different world, apparently? Yeah. I'm in a different world. Or my world got so rapidly fucked overnight I missed it and about 300 years... Last thing I remember is that it was 2019... But according to what I know of this world, which bee-tee-dubs I smegging WROTE STORIES about, that would have been over a hundred fifty years ago..." he looked at the device again, and the readout of Salohiel's stats.
"As a side note? My inner power-gamer says these look good? Have we tested you recently? What kinds of training have you done?" he paused for a moment and patted himself down. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Oh, thank you Jesus..." he said as he pulled one of the little white sticks out and lit it. Taking a drag and holding the smoke in for a moment as it burned his lungs, he relaxed slightly.
"You're not supposed to smoke inside." Salohiel said. "But that's why we got the smoking room, I suppose." she shrugged, grabbing one for herself from the still-open pack and lighting it.
"Something about seeing an angel smoking is just adding the perfect level of surrealism to this whole thing." Markus noted.
"Quit complaining master. You and I smoke all the time." Salohiel said around the cigarette.
"Valid, I suppose?" Markus was unsure. HE had only just met this girl. Still, if she smoked? She smoked, and he wasn't gonna withhold cigarettes from someone. He wasn't that kind of asshole. Still, he flipped through his 'Dex a bit, through the various apps installed. 'Halls of the Mountain King' looked to be a game, despite the reference to a piece of classical music. Likely used it as a theme or something. A few RPGs by the looks of things... Some reference apps, books by the dozens, a few dozen movies, some of which he recognized, others he'd never heard of and several more that looked to be porn.
After the cigarettes had burned down and their heads were pleasantly filled with their fix of nicotine, Markus and Salohiel sat down at the small table in their hotel room.
"So." Markus began, "I need to know where we are, in terms of goals, finances to reach those goals, and other less monetary resources. Right now I know I have you, a fairly stable income from investments and such, and a 15 year end-goal of retiring to a semi-tropical island to a life of luxury and leisure... OR getting into the Championships, of which I can only assume is meant the Indigo League Championship tournament, likely with the main goal being given the rank of Harem Master... Could never figure out why that'd matter. I mean, it's great to be the best at something, but it'd be you and other Pokegirls doing all the damned work, wouldn't it?" He sighed. "Then there's the fact that it'd do nothing but paint a gigantic target on your back for any one of the numerous team and Team-Like organizations."
Salohiel nodded. "I just know that *I* want to be recognized as one of the best Pokegirls in the world, one of the most respected, most powerful, and most beautiful."
"Wow. An Angel with ambition AND an ego?" Markus asked, genuinely surprised by this, since he'd always mentally ascribed such things to the more... Infernal breeds.
"Just because I'm a Celestial type doesn't mean I can't want to advance. Humility is knowing when to stop. Stupidity is stopping before you have to." Salohiel countered, a bit of a defensive tone in her voice overwhelmed by the teasing smile on her face. "Besides. Someone in this relationship had to have ambition." She said, giving Markus a pointed look.
"I think, given a few weeks to adjust, we can both agree that ambition will no longer be in short supply in our dynamic." Markus nodded. he'd already, behind the fear and concern that this might all be the result of a psychotic break or whatever drugs he might be on in some hospital somewhere, begun planning what he might be able to do.
The words from the book 'The 48 Laws of Power' rung in his mind as his plans began getting a little too far off track. 'Plan to the end. Plan contingencies and alternatives. Don't let emotions or dreams of the 'happy end' get in the way.'
With that thought in mind, he brought up n app designed for goal planning and started a new file.
Goal: Full Harem.
Wants: Magic Types, Fire Types, Fighting Types. NO PSYCHIC TYPES.
~target of Opportunity: Demon-Goddess, Neo Iczel, Sayjin.
~ Avoid: Megami, Dark Lady (Salohiel's a Celestial, newb,) Mazoku (TT_TT)
Step 1: Evolve Salohiel via Shield Stone to Archangel.
Step 2: Light gambling, to gain game Coins.
~Have: 980
~Need: 12,270 for full plan.
~Desired prizes: Witch, Slicer (Optional: and Video Girl.)
Step 3: Battle.
~Choose carefully. Ferals, for the most part, to gain bounties and salvage rights.
Step 4: Acquire enough money to pay for a good bike.
Step 5: Acquire Pokegirls and breeds which compliment one another. Bonus points for templates.
Goal 2: Acquire Fame/Renown.
Step 1: See goal 1.
Step 2: Reinvent Image.
~Ideal image: Confident, ambitious, competent.
Step 3: Challenge Gym Assistants in Celaboner to gage strength, and check necessities.
Step 4: Safari Zone.
~ Avoid Mantis pokegirls at all costs.
Step 5: Make certain to train MYSELF as well, since being known only as a tamer = Bad in long term.
Step 6: Repeat as necessary until respected in Tamer circles of at least 3 cities.
~Anything after that is Gravy/Bonus/Not Needed.
Goal 3: Find out wtf happened.
Step 1: Polite Inquiries into Dimensional travelers.
Step 2: Create persona of an interest in how such things work.
Step 3: Gain access to academic studies on subject matter.
~ Acquire access to several other subjects as well, as smokescreen, but don't be afraid to explore. One never knows.
With those things written down, though goal 3 wasn't quite complete yet, since he had no idea what he'd do with the information on what the hell had happened if he ever found it, Markus was satisfied with his two main goals. Gain a full harem, like any self-respecting male might do if given the opportunity and ability, and gain fame and renown. He'd been a nobody in his old life. With a smaller population (less competition,) and a decent plan, maybe he'd be able to pull it off? Maybe a bit of chicanery might be required. Or outright lies.
Salohiel leaned over Markus's shoulder as he was typing out his plans and goals. "Well, that's certainly new." She said. "You never used to use that app. I think your dad bought it for you, but most of our plans have been 'improvise.'"
Markus sighed. "Improvisation only lasts until the next crisis. I see I put funds in a safety account, with investments to make money in return. That's good. Looks like I was learning, slowly, to plan ahead."
"Somewhat." Salohiel said, leaning back again and turning the TV back on. "You're definitely different today, though. You used to doing that, now?" She asked. Her Master had always been one to play things by ear, more than anything, and while she admired him for it, it also got him into most of his trouble.
"Not really." Markus sighed, slumping. "I'm training myself to think ahead and plan things out, but I'm still getting used to it. Used to live paycheck to paycheck, without much concern for the future."
"Sounds like you, alright." Salohiel remarked as she changed the channel from the news to a movie channel. "I kind of like the change, just don't go getting too rigid on me in your plans and forget spontaneity."
"If I forget? I have you to remind me, don't I?" He asked.
Salohiel stopped watching the TV for a moment. That comment really hit her right in the headspace. This really *wasn't* her Master, was it? He looked like him, sounded superficially like him... even walked like him. But it wasn't him inside. Her master had never even tried to rely on her for anything but emotional support, financial knowledge (AKA: "Salohiel? It's Tax season. here's the computer with all the data. File them for me, would ya?") and maybe the occasional back-scratch.
Never to remind him of things. Her master hated reminders when he didn't set them on his 'Dex, and even then if they didn't shut the fuck up soon enough he was prone to bursts of anger at the device.
Finally, she spoke. "If you wish, Master." She said, a cautious tone to her voice.
Markus noted that, but filed it away for later. "Thank you, Salohiel... now. What do you think oof my plan? Right now, knowing the Celaboner Prize Center's exchange prices and the prizes available, I'm looking at a Witch, a Slicer and a Video Girl, if I can get them. The Video Girl is optional, since it's the biggest expense, but I always wanted one." He was a sucker for the anime the Video Girl breed was based on, sue him.
"Not a bad combination, so long as you don't just pick the first ones they show you, Master." She said. "Or pick them solely for aesthetic qualities like hair color or hand shape or weapon of choice or some nonsense. bring me with you when you do, and I'll help interview them. not only to make sure they don't swindle us, giving us a problem-Pokegirl for the same price as a prize example of the breed, but to make sure I can get along with them."
Markus nodded. "You got it. let's deal with the Witch, first. We can do that today, see how things go with her, and see if we need the Slicer or if we can find one elsewhere, like at a Ranch. I've got the money for the Shield Stone, we're just waiting for the market to get one in, right?" He asked.
"We placed an order for one, but it has to get here from Stone Town. Shouldn't be more than another week or so, master." The angel supplied.
"Good. I want you evolved as soon as possible, so we can gage how that affects your stats as it is. Once that's done, we'll do a full workup and test of your abilities." Markus noted the changes in his planner app, making notes as he went for various thoughts and proto-plans.
Breakfast was spent in much the same way, with the two of them talking. Markus was trying to both get to know the girl he'd apparently be working with and get his plans situated so they wouldn't backfire in his face, as this incarnation of him seemed to have run into so often.
Salohiel was getting to know her Master for the second time... This version of him seemed... Excited? Like he was a kid in a candy shop. Like a new tamer, almost. She caught him reading Taming for Dummies during breakfast, even! When she'd met him, he was already cynical and jaded. 4 years ago, she'd left her previous tamer at the Sadie Poken's Day celebration and found this depressed looking older Tamer, near the age when most would retire to some other profession, sitting in Cerulesbian City and people-watching... She'd talked, and he'd explained his situation. No reliable home, no reliable income, no Pokegirls with which to attain a reliable income as a Tamer... he was near to retiring in shame. A bit of fun later and she handed him her Pokeball, mostly out of curiosity to see if she COULD help him.
For the next 4 years, he'd played it 'safe.' Minimal expeditions into the wilderness to capture ferals, long hours of training, and investing what money they did earn conservatively while basically living off the land and going from Pokecenter to Pokecenter.
They'd spent a long time in Lavenderriere, with her practicing against Ghost types and him learning about ghost types. he had a slight fetish for the darker types, even if he was training a Celestial, and always wanted an infernal to 'round things out.'
This 'new' Markus, however, had specifically put down in his plans for a full Harem to *avoid* infernals. If he was anything like HER Master? Then he likely wanted one, but would avoid it due to the inevitable conflict... Which was a good sign. It meant this new Markus might actually have a brain in his skull, rather than just the one between his legs? She was hoping, at least.
The reasons Markus had put down to avoid Infernals did, in fact, involve the conflicts between Celestials and Infernals... but mainly it was because he had absolutely no intention of dealing with the potential for them to somehow report to Hild. behind a computer screen? That shit was fine. Sexy, even, but if it came down to it? He'd rather rip his own arm off than come face-to-face with a Legendary... maybe Moan, but that was still heavily iffy given the whole 'no psychic types' hardline policy he was instituting. The ONLY psychic type he'd consider would be a Shieldmaiden or a Barriermaiden, and ONLY if they chose to fixate on him... He might not have lived through it, but the shame of losing a Shieldmaiden to that fixation being on another member of the Harem was palpable.
As the early morning passed into 'brunch/late morning' times, Markus and Salohiel could be seen exiting their hotel room, placing the door-sign saying 'please clean' on the knob, and leaving the hotel through the nearly abandoned Casino floor.
The Prize center, as Markus remembered it from his times playing Pokemon, was beyond different. it looked like a mix between an auction house and a warehouse with a hint of 'model runway' thrown in. The two of them were greeted by a smiling woman. Markus couldn't tell if this was a Pokegirl or not, but Salohiel grabbed his hand and let her wings come out of... Wherever the hell those things go when they're being hidden.
"Welcome to the Prize Center!" The girl exclaimed happily. "My name is Mina, How can I assist you today?" The girl asked.
Markus nodded at the introduction. "Well, I'm Markus. I'm looking to spend some of my game coins, but I was hoping we could take a look at the selection. Specifically, Witches." He almost went on to explain, but that'd just give them reason to hold back the good Witches, so he'd be pushed to spend more on a Slicer.
"Of course, sir!" The girl nodded, her hair bouncing along with the movement. "Right this way! Would you like a 'one-by-one' runway style display?" She asked, leading the Tamer and Angel off to a series of halls and doors.
"Interviews, if possible, please. I'm sure they can all comport themselves well physically, but since it's a Witch we're dealing with, I need to make sure their style matches my planned harem layout." Markus said.
Salohiel nodded. "Wouldn't want to accidentally pick a Necromancer when we need a Diviner, for example."
Markus winced... he'd totally bang a necromancy-focused Witch into next week...
The girl smiled as she led them to a door. "I can have the Diviners set up first, if you'd like?" She offered.
Markus shook his head. "Nah. It was an example. I'm more looking for someone good at Evocation, or Potions, but generalists are my preferred fare, since i'd like to evolve her to a Sorceress and eventually an Archmage." He said. "Hence the interviews. I'm looking for potential and compatibility. Salohiel is an Angel, who's going to be an Archangel by the end of the week, so any infernal tendencies are a hard 'no' even if I don't mind 'black magic' specialists."
Salohiel nodded, and the girl opened the door for them to a room with four chairs, a window into a room that looked to be made of tiles on every surface save for a single door in or out. Salohiel guided Markus to sitting down, and took a seat next to him on a stool with no back so her wings could be out.
"I noticed that." Markus said, gesturing to her wings. "Why take them out?" He asked. They were beautiful, just as he'd always imagined them, but the question begged an answer.
"Simple, Master." She said, shrugging, ruffling the feathers as she did. "They were starting to cramp, being hidden away, and I always feel vulnerable without them out."
"Then don't hide them when you don't absolutely have to." Markus said, trying to affect a tone of command despite feeling ill at ease doing so.
Salohiel easily caught the slight hesitation of his discomfort at commanding her to do something, but smiled slightly nonetheless. "Yes, Master. As you wish." Then her face was back to the calm, cool stoney expression she'd had all day while in public. She WAS still an Avenging Angel, no matter how much she could appreciate her Master in private.
The door to the room opened up, and twenty young women, seemingly in their late teens to early 20's, entered the room. Each and every one of them was dressed in a uniform black-and-white color scheme, wide-brimmed pointed hats, and cloaks clasped together by a broach in the shape of the Celaboner Prize Center's logo. The only things that set them apart were the individual features they all possessed and the numbers printed on tags hung around their necks. All of them wore collars Markus could only assume were power-inhibitors and anti-teleport capable.
Salohiel immediately reached to push the button for the intercom into the room. "Numbers 3, 9 and 17? Please exit." She said. The three girls, a brunette and two blonds, walked over to and out through the door. When the button was released, Salohiel looked to mark and whispered, "Power-Hungry. I could see it in their eyes. They'd do anything for an edge, including make certain unacceptable bargains."
The explanation was enough for Markus and he nodded, taking a look at the girls in the room. He pondered for a moment before a feeling of nostalgia hit him like a train. "This shit's just like the fucking 'online dating' experiment." He laughed.
After a few seconds, the only human male involved in this sordid affair pressed the button. "Anyone who can't take a joke or make a joke at their own expense, please leave the room. This includes jokes about your tits, your ass, and your ability. I want someone with a sense of humor, but not to the point of not being able to take anything seriously." He said.
Several girls left the room, leaving him with about 15 Witches. He pushed the button again, "Evocation and Black Magic specialists, please step forward, along with Divination specialists, if you will."
Three of the girls stepped forward. One was a cute redhead with bright red eyes and sharp features. not an ounce of unnecessary body fat on that one! The second was a somewhat more mousey-looking girl with glasses and blond hair tied into a braid which draped over her left shoulder to hang down her front. She looked like she was trying not to cry at being told to step forward. The third and final Witch that stepped forward stood a full head taller than the others, and looked to be in her mid mid 20's with deep purple hair loosely hanging down to her lower back. numbers 5, 7, and 14.
Markus nodded in appreciation at the sight. "Numbers 5, 7, and 14, I'd like to continue this to an interview, do you know if this is possible? Or am I forced to do this out here in front of everyone?" He asked.
Their guide from before's voice popped up on the intercom before any of the three could answer. "For a nominal fee, yes you may. it will cost 1,000slc per hour, no Taming, though, and no damaging the merchandise!" The chipper and cheerful voice said.
Markus nodded. "Numbers 5, 7 and 14, please go to wherever you wait for a one-on-one interview." He said into the intercom before continuing after they'd exited. "Can anyone who specializes or has an interest in necromancy please step forward."
When none of the remaining 12 stepped forward, Markus and Salohiel both sighed. One out of disappointment, the other out of relief. Salohiel pushed the button, this time. "Anyone with skill or interest in healing Magics?" She asked.
One of the girls stepped forward. Black hair, brown eyes, and a kind smile on her face. Number 18.
"Number 18, please join the Interview group." Salohiel said into the mic.
Markus nodded. Having a dedicated healer was a must in any D&D party, so why not here? Not like he expected a Rapha to fall into his lap, literally, unlike some of the stories he'd written... After a few seconds of shifty-eyes, Markus settled back to looking at the remaining Witches in the group shown to him.
"Any of you deal with spirits of a non-necromantic sort?" He asked. Three raised their hands and Markus continued. "Of you three, do any of you have any interest in binding those spirits to physical objects of power?" He asked. Might as well draw on his Gaming knowledge from other genres, right? Couldn't hurt...
Apparently it *could* hurt, since all three left of their own volition.
"Well, that worked out." Markus groused. "Like a lead balloon..."
Salohiel reached for the mic again, "Has anyone received formal or informal training involving their desired areas of specialty?" She asked. None raised their hands and Salohiel sat back in her chair.
"I was afraid of that..." she said before sighing deep. "Most of these girls are likely either claimed by the League for being in storage too long, claimed from dead Tamers, confiscated from those who had their license revoked, or they're straight off the Ranch." She explained when she saw Markus giving her a questioning look.
"We've seen enough. Thank you, ladies, we'll let you get back to whatever you were doing." Markus said into the mic before standing up and walking to the door. The Witches filed out of their side of the room while Markus and Salohiel made their own way out of their room, only to be greeted by their guide.
"Did you have fun?" She asked. "A lot of the time, most people just assume we give them a randomized selection of our stock. Like a roulette wheel of what they're going to get. But that'd be stupid, don't you think?" The girl asked as she led them through another series of halls to an interview room. "We want people to *want* to come here and spend their money and coins on our merchandise, after all, and making it a craps shoot whether what you get is compatible with what you wanted? Not a good way to do business. Best we can do is rank their costs based on breed." The girl waved a hand dismissively as she opened the door to what looked like a comfortable waiting room with a long couch, a few chairs set up in various places, a free soda machine with little clear plastic cups next to it, and a coffee machine next to that with white ceramic mugs for the coffee. Markus beelined to the soda... Blessed, icy cold, caffeine.
The Witches they'd told to wait for interview were then shown in one at a time. First up was number 5, a red-haired athletically built young woman of about 5ft tall.
"Yo." the With said by way of greeting, holding up a 'peace' sign. "I'm the Queen Bitch, Number 5. Call me Johnny and I'll laugh as I'm castrating you. Explosively." she said.
Salohiel hid a smile behind her hand, but soldiered on with the first question. "What's your area of specialty?" she asked.
"I'm a Black Magic Expert. Attack spells and abilities are my usual fare, with a few minor enhancement or status-effect spells like burning someone, freezing them, or paralyzing them, though I love explosions." The girl grinned manically at the thought of 'very big booms.'
Markus and Salohiel glanced at each other before continuing.
"What is your favorite spell, and why?" Markus asked.
The girl shrugged. "Ain't got one. They're all tools. Picking a favorite means you start looking for reasons to use it, rather than a situation in which it is best. I like flames, but sometimes Lightning is better, or water… or even, heaven help us, Summoning something that can do what we need, rather than trying to figure out a spell for it and wasting time and energy on research."
Markus nodded at that. He liked practicality and pragmatism. His next question came out without much trepidation, as it was something he was genuinely eager to know. "What do YOU get out of me buying you?" He asked.
Number 5 blinked. "What?" She asked, trying to get the thought clear in her head. "What do *I* get out of it? Nothing but a steady dick, I suppose. Whatever freedom you allow me in researching or learning new spells… The possibility to advance?" She offered. "I get a lot less than you, though. You get an awesome Witch like me who legally and biologically can't reject you telling her to warm your bed and defend you when you're out in the wilds."
Markus nodded at that. He was still trying to figure out if this world he woke up in was as he'd imagined it… if it was even real.
Salohiel sighed. "OK. So you get a bit more freedom, and Markus gets a new Pokegirl with the potential to be an arcane power, but right now? He's getting a young Pokegirl, barely into adulthood, who likes to blow things up." She clarified. "Do you have any other areas of interest besides Black Magic?" She asked.
"I can brew some simple potions, never really had instruction in the stuff and what I can make is by touch, you know?" At Markus's nod, he'd done most of his cooking by the 'does this taste right' method, she continued. "I can do basic summoning, low-end stuff like summoning messenger birds or summoning a distraction. Banishment is more my deal on that front." Number 5 leaned forward a bit and propped her head up with her hands, her elbows on the table.
Markus made note of that in his 'Dex app before asking his final question. "Where did you grow up? Was it on a ranch? Or in a family unit?" He asked.
"I was born and raised on the Two-Hearts Ranch." She responded, not really seeing why that was at all important. "I had my mother, a few sisters, and the ranch owners. I'm a Domesticate, in case that wasn't clear. No Threshold for this badass Queen Bitch Witch!" She grinned wide at that, but waited for whatever was coming next.
Salohiel and Markus both made notes… Salohiel's notes were concise, logical, and clear… Markus's while clear since they were typed out in digital format, were more along the lines of someone flipping between 'want' and 'do not want' with reasons beside them.
The duo nodded to the girl and asked her to go into the waiting room ad send in Number 7. Number 5 scoffed.
"Good luck if you choose her. She's so shy i'm amazed she even stood forward." She said, giving the two a wave before heading out.
The blond Witch came in, next. Her glasses were big, thick, and obviously bargain-barrel 2-for-1 frames for $20, if Markus's estimation (long years of buying those same glasses…) was anything to go by.
"I…. I know how this is going to end." The witch, Number 7, said in a voice that sounded like a mix between someone who wanted to vanish and someone who wanted to cry. "I… I saw this." She said. "I'm… Number 7. Lucky number. Important number." She began rambling, but was cut off by Salohiel.
"I assume, then, that you're a Divination specialist?" The Avenging Angel asked.
"Yes. Divination, Numerology, Astrology, and potions." She said. "All things I can do alone, I know." She'd taken the words right out of Markus's mouth… That'd get…
"Annoying, I know." The girl said, seemingly shrinking in on herself. "My visions show me how things can go. The most likely outcome, and they usually change fairly quickly." She sighed. "I'm Number 7, Divination and Potions are the main reason you'd consider me, but the fact that i don't have much control over my power, just like most Witches though in an 'entirely annoying way' will be why you don't pick me." She said. "I… I was a Feralborn. I learned to speak English by T2, and the rest at a ranch near Vale Academy before I was sold to Celaboner City because the ranchers didn't think I was worth the investment. I kept telling Tamers their futures, but they never liked it. It's not my fault…" she sniffed. "A lot of them were bound for mediocrity or death. Everyone wants to hear they'll be the next Champion… or something." She trailed off after that and seemed to be shaking in her seat.
Markus looked at Salohiel, trying to figure out just what he felt about this whole thing. Sure, the visions were annoying, and her cutting him off because she knew what he was going to say before he said it was aggravating, but she was so *cute.* And he'd always loved Divination as a concept. To find himself in a world where such was not only real, but *reliable?* He could deal with the annoyance, couldn't he?
The girl sighed. "You'd try." She said. "You try, and within two weeks, you'd sell me off, or trade me to a collector, or straight-up give me to a Researcher." She said, her voice tinted with the sadness of what was likely a severe Cassandra Complex.
Markus, however, looked at Salohiel and grinned. The Angel nodded slightly, despite her own trepidation… Her master had told her what he'd done before, going for aesthetic qualities over substance, so she *was* worried, but she was his Pokegirl, he was the Tamer.
"Well, Number 7? Let's see if we can't change Fate, shall we? I'm fairly sure that if I did sell you off or give you to a Researcher, Salohiel here would beat me black and blue for days, and likely not let me touch her for years. If I wanted, I could probably find a more combat-focused Pokegirl, but I think it'd be a more wise choice to look for a support 'girl." He grinned. "That and I think I'd like to see how you handle being out and about."
Number 7 looked up at him for the first time since entering the room. Sadness filled her eyes as small sparks flitted across her pupils. "You will certainly try." She said, morosely. "But you'll get tired of me and my visions in a few weeks. You'll try to use them for your advantage, but you'll find that I'm too much trouble to deal with."
Salohiel smiled. "Even Megami can't tell the future with perfect accuracy." She said. "You said it yourself. You see the most likely future, right?"
Number 7 nodded.
"Well," Markus started, holding his hand out for her. "There you have it. Most likely is not 'inevitable.' If you'll have a go, we'll get the 'prize' portion of this out of the way, yeah?" He offered.
Number 7 sighed again. Her vision had said he'd interview her, send her out to tell 14 to come in, and she'd never see him again. She'd been hoping to avoid the heartache of being rejected *again* by just cutting to the point. Instead she got purchased for 750 Prize Coins… And a new name. Pythia.
The establishment of an Alpha Bond is one of the first things people should always do when they obtain a new Pokegirl, Whether by capture, trade, or purchase. This is one of those things a lot of Tamers take for granted, because the way to establish said Alpha Bond is to screw their brains out. To Tame them. Pick thy euphemism.
When Markus, Salohiel and the newly named Pythia returned to their Hotel room, the group knew it had to be done. Salohiel, used for so long to being the only Pokegirl in the duo's dynamic, shrugged off the small surge of jealousy. Instead of dwelling on it? She decided to grab one of the credit chips and, after verifying the amount on it and moving a small amount of extra 'padding' for her little spree, left.
New member of the harem meant more clothing for the newbie, extra food, and all sorts of other things… That and there was a cafe advertising free pie if you bought a full meal, and she was in the mood for pie. With ice cream, damn it all. In fact? Ice cream after the pie sounded great.
Her shopping, with identification on her showing she was, in fact, tamed and owned, kept her out of trouble with any moron thinking only with his dick that an Angel wandering alone might be 'up for grabs.' Not to mention it allowed her to move about the city without really worrying about being taken in by the police for wandering about. She was more used to Viridick City police department, not Celaboner's. Hopefully she'd never have a run-in with them. The less blue hair she saw? The better.
The clothing shop was helpful. They had a selection of general designs, and Salohiel was able to give generalities and still come away with some good picks for casual clothing for her new 'sister.' And she knew HER Markus's tastes… how different could they be? Men were men, after all.
He'd probably regret passing up the others. A Healer would be good to have, and a dedicated attack specialist with the versatility of a pure Magic type was nothing to sniff at. But she agreed that the poor Divination specialist might be worth the investment… if she could get over her visions long enough to realize that the future was anything but set in stone.
Salohiel knew several Megami. The Celestiial breeds usually got together during Sadie Poken's Day celebrations, to discuss, confer, and generally have a bit of fun amongst themselves, and she'd had several conversations with the Megami that would sometimes show up. And while they did, in fact, always speak in riddles about the future? Salohiel was old enough to see through the younger members' attempts to misdirect. They saw possible futures. That's all. They saw probabilities. The future was a raging storm of possibility solidified only in the moment into a single line. To attempt to do so magically would take power beyond any even the Celestial type allowed her to feel. Infinity is a strange concept, since it could be infinite in a single dimension of reality, but completely useless against something infinite in 2 dimensions or more.
Honestly? Thinking about the various potential theories out there hurt her head, so she simply didn't. She was an Angel. If Markus and her had their way? She'd be an Archangel by next week. Her job was to serve, avenge wrongdoing, and to be an example of the light at the end of the tunnel. Not to ponder high theory of the universe and the Powers That Be.
The food at the cafe was nice. She got herself a nice salad with a good vinaigrette (no croutons, thank you) Some warm bread with olive oil and seasoning… And then that glorious pie. Peach Pie, made with proper peaches cut in the back, not the canned crap some places used. A small scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of it, still hot from the baking making the ice cream melt in rivulets across the flaky crust glazed with just a bit of sugar…
And she still got her damned bowl of ice cream afterwards. With caramel sauce. Worth every credit.
With Markus and Pythia, however, things weren't entirely going to plan. Or to trope. Depending on how one looked at it. Markus had written several stories on this. He'd read even more. But literary experience in the situation did NOT prepare him for the immanent reality of it. He was standing in a hotel room with one bed, the T.V. Set to a daytime talk show (He hated them, but he didn't want to risk his presumptions about the cartoon channels being accurate. The talk show was risque enough, thanks) and a painfully shy and almost morose Witch in front of him.
Pythia, she was still getting used to having a proper name, looked at the man who'd bought her from the Prize Corner. She saw several things. The most likely outcome of this encounter would be him being dissatisfied, despite 'getting his rocks off.' Her chances of getting off were minimal, as well, due to two new partners still feeling each other out and trying to get used to the differences between current and past experiences. Her own biologically-induced ease of getting off was negated, somehow, by an experienced Tamer *not knowing what he's doing.* It was rather frustrating, but the poor girl had been rejected from about a week after she'd been Tamed onward.
It was awkward. Markus didn't know how to go about doing this, let alone starting it. His actual experience in this arena, his timeline anyway, was a grand total of 3 times in his life, all in one night with one girl, and had resulted in him thinking several times about what shows he might have been missing on Cartoon Network… he didn't know if that was because he'd been desensitized by porn, or if he was just not interested in the actual act of sex so much as the lead up. He knew he was good enough at the lead up to make the 'main attraction' decent enough if he had some time to explore, but this was a whole new situation.
He'd literally just fucking spent money, which he'd gained by gambling like fucking arcade coins at the prize desk, on a sentient, thinking, living, breathing female… Of a near-human species, granted, but that wasn't the point! If he were in goddamned Star Wars, he'd be no different than a Hutt buying a goddamned Twi'lek slave girl! AUGH!
He'd gotten caught up in the excitement of 'new world! New me! New possibilities! Yay!' To really think about the moral implications of just what he was doing. During the interviews? He'd been more interested in possibly finding out more about magic, or seeing if his imagination had done the Witch breed any justice (It didn't. Real life is always more intense than imagined scenarios…) that he'd completely forgotten, or ignored, the fact that he was there to exchange currency for what, by his memory of the legal status, amounted to a sex slave. A biologically engineered non-human dependent upon human interaction *sex slave.*
"Well." Markus sighed as the thought killed whatever wood he might have been growing. "Fuck." He said, summing up his feelings on the situation once more in the most succinct fashion he could.
"I-isn't that… What we're supposed to do, now?" Pythia asked, looking at Markus curiously.
"Yes. Yes it is. But I'm at about no-mast, at the moment. No roll of quarters. No flag-pole." He sighed. "I just realized I just fucking bought someone. SomeONE." He emphasized the part of the word that was the bother at the moment. "I…" he sighed.
"You're going to explain." Pythia said, seeing it in her mind what was about to happen. "You stumble a bit, but you tell me about how you, yourself, are not from this world, though you have a body here and a history."
Markus nodded. "Minnesota." He said. "I'm from Minnesota. United States of America. Year 2019. Dunno what the fuck's happened, but I woke up this morning…"
"And found yourself here. You got caught up in it all, and went with what you thought you'd need to do to blend in and survive. Survive what, though?" She asked, not necessarily at her new Tamer. "You seem worried? Worried about the possibilities of psychic types, when I suggest trading me in for an A-Bra…"
Markus paled at the thought of getting any kind of psychic type. Nope. All aboard the Nope-train to Fuckthatshitville.
"Much like that, yes." Pythia nodded when she looked at Markus for his reaction, confirming her vision. "I can understand why. All signs point to that being a generally bad idea."
Markus nodded, regaining his color only when he'd affirmed mentally to never get a Psychic type, if he could help it. "I don't suppose you would like to just, like.. Cuddle for a bit? I mean, we can put off the Taming for a bit, right?" He asked.
Pythia nodded. "We can. I'll let you know when I need it. For now, I agree, we should get to know each other. I've seen visions of possibilities, but you might be able to surprise me?" The petite blond shrugged and then sat on the bed.
Markus followed suit and just sat on the bed, turning the T.V. Volume up and switching to a movie channel. Apparently they remade the goddamned Indiana Jones movies! Philistines!
That the titular character got laid regularly and often on screen was not an improvement, in Markus's eyes. Seriously. Why did they have to make Indy a Tamer for these things? Ah well… At least they updated the plots slightly? And he couldn't fault the special effects. Good lord, Temple of Doom was downright watchable when you took out the little kid involved and replaced him with a Shadowgirl.
Yes. It was still disturbing, knowing the base material, but… When in Rome? That was Markus's bullshit justification and he'd stick to it. By the end of the movie his arm was over Pythia's shoulder and the blond, sans hat now, was leaning into him a little bit.
One thing the Witch refused to acknowledge was the minor possibility she'd seen. One of herself, powerful, respected, and loved wearing robes of collected starlight and peering deeper into the future than she'd ever dreamed of attempting.
/End