Your return to Generica Grande is, as a natural extension of your enormous victories, a victorious one, for all that it is unaccompanied by the heavenly trumpets and angelic choirs such an occasion surely deserves. All the same, you do not let this stop you, humming the Imperial March intermittently as your flight crosses the ocean.
It is a lot of ocean to cover, but hey, details. You have the time.
Adjusting your new favorite hat, you idly consider how you shall term your 'birth' as a deity, now that you have acquired religious authority by virtue of wearing it. Clearly, you are made of the joining of two great beings, but how can you describe pre-ascension Jack and Elena Winters in a way conducive to the penning of a new, improved, bible?
The Father, the Daughter and the Holy Jackie? The Communion in the Dark, to symbolize the way you were recreated more or less in the middle of the forest and had to trudge all the way back to civilization? Or should you just steal Christianity straightforwardly and go from there?
Daaad, please stop…
You chuckle, silently agreeing to stop teasing Elena. You'll be back to normal soon enough, the added perspective present, but slipping back in under the rest of your personality… It is a recurring theme with him, to be honest. Brian, you mean.
He creates and researches and becomes the originator of miracles, only for things to inevitably not work out quite perfectly, an unexpected spanner in the works, a failure to meet his personal standards, that kind of thing. Then he obsesses over it, grows more and more frustrated, annoyed, begins blaming his creations for being what they are.
It's just the kind of person (for lack of a better word for what he is) that Brian is, at the end of the day. Just look at the imperfect fruit you ate, or hell, even yourself; even while completely and entirely self-centered, largely ignoring his very existence as such whenever possible, you have been completely and thoroughly bulldozing anything even reminiscent of his control over the situation, for months.
While tricking him, making him believe he had you in his paw. He simply is very bad at accounting for people, or wildly changing circumstances or simply just the luck of the draw.
Setting Tabitha down on top of the back of the sleeping tiger instead of your lap, the large cat deciding it may as well nap a bit, you shimmy over towards him, the plush toy you very much expect to be hiding the secrets of the universe or something still staring off into space in realization of exactly how much of its time will be taken up dealing with the bureaucratic fallout of your actions.
"Muh. There, there," you say, patting his back. Brian jolts, as if only just realizing he still exists. "You totally deserve it."
"… Chuuh."
Aw man, this is the life. Nothing could ruin your day at this point.
Your nap was nice, once you chose to join your lesser cat-cousins and leant against the side of the tiger you decided to adopt, in your endless magnanimity. Your crimson irises slowly taking in the light, you eventually do wake up again, yawning and stretching a little to get yourself back up, slowly.
You rub your butt. The ground is hard and vibrates annoyingly as the plane flies. It's just a little numb, though any real discomfort disappears within moment as your regeneration regenerates you.
You look out of the window. You see things you do not want to see. "Muh. What is this shit."
A city that is on fire. You would like to call it on fucking fire, but sadly the fire is not animated and in the form of hundreds of sexy ladies out to have sex.
You are personally disappointed in and aggrieved at its failure to be sexy.
"This not Generica?" If it is, you're-
"Yeah, sorry, we've been circling for five minutes now looking for a landing spot not on fire or taken," the pilot yells over the sound of his machine. "But we've arrived! Progress, eh?"
Fffffffffuuuuuuuhhhhhhh-ck.
"Chuh, it's not as bad as it looks, puuh, the damage is being hemmed in to within a few blocks and it'll rain in the next few hours."
You look again, observing the smoking fires that somehow spread across a few buildings. Okay, so maybe reality was wise enough to adjust itself to avoid aggravating the one being that is omnipotent and omniscient within it. You shall leave it un-smote. For now.
Still you are mightily annoyed right now. And you just so happen to know a certain someone you shall blame for this until and unless you find reason to do otherwise.
After all, you know of exactly one magical girl that does fire, as well as one that does wind… and you obviously left them unsupervised for far too long already.
The battle against the fleshy creature the plucky trio of Magical Girls found themselves fighting had continued on for many hours, producing huge amounts of collateral damage as the abomination threw itself at any easy prey it could spot, against buildings and onto the ground, a mad, perpetually enraged scrabble for death and destruction taking place in plain sight.
Then they had defeated it. For the first time.
Two boss fight phases later, days into the battle as they slept in shifts and sought to eradicate the monster before it could self-replicate again, they were at their limits, physically, emotionally and magically. Each of them felt the burn of continuous action in this way, muscles burning with every move, minds sluggish, magic slower and more arduous to call upon.
Finally, though, they had it where they wanted it.
The last phase of the abomination they had found themselves tangling with without Jackie to provide superior firepower and pure might had seen all the bodies it had managed to accumulate explode in a shower of gore, slimy bits and pieces flying in all directions and beginning a curious process akin to a caterpillar cocooning itself, a fleshy, squirming shell growing out of individual limbs and pieces, size varying with the sizes of the fragments in question.
Then they had begun combining, turning into frenzied, smaller versions of the original. By the dozens.
Luckily, they had been spread all over the place, and so with some ingenuity and abuse of Olivia's mobility at Kerrie's instruction, they had been able to contain the threat… all the while the main creature was still attempting to rebirth itself, unknown to the team of Magical Girls fighting to clean up after it.
They did notice, eventually, but by this point an entire skyscraper of Los Genericana De La Angelos had been taken over, grown into a massive tower of flesh pulsing as it raced towards whatever next stage of awfulness was about to be unleashed.
The entire area was long since evacuated, the brave policeman they'd saved helping to coordinate the situation. Kerrie, thoroughly and absolutely fed up with every part of this entire situation, had a thing or two to say about all of this.
"This is frickin' stupid," her profound wisdom had been. "Olivia, give me all the wind you have, we're flamethrowering this thing. It has to be sterilized."
"What if the fire spreads?" The green-haired girl asked, trying to keep things reasonable all the while being just as overtaxed. It was not working well.
"Then that means we're finally rid of this thing! I don't want to have to live in a world where that exists!"
"Like, just do it already. It's not gonna go away until we make it go, yanno?" Bubbles added.
"… You're right. Any potential cost is worth it. I want to have a shower. And sleep in my own bed. And eat cookies. AND NOT BE COVERED IN THIS STUPID GUNK ANYMORE! DIIIIEEE!"
The combination of the two magical girls' magic succeeded in setting the tower of flesh ablaze, burning the steadily regenerating flesh and halting its unnatural regrowth, individual proteins making up cells denaturing due to the intense heat it was subjected to.
So great was this intent effort to reduce this monster to ash that it finally succeeded, a grand wave of partially blue flame springing forth with the draw of Magical Girl True Blade's weapon from its sheathe to carbonize the outer layers even as the inner ones were subjected to just enough heat to cook them into uselessness.
The battle was finally over… Even as the burning meat chunks raining down from the now dead monster's massive corpse splattered fat and oil every which way, spreading a small inferno that quickly grew in scope as it hit upon neighboring buildings.
That did not matter to any of the three in the moment, however. It was finally, finally over…
Fast forward to the present, whence all three of them were sitting at the side of the street, wrapped in an oversized towel and nursing hot cocoa each. It couldn't be called done until it was all over and, just in case, they needed to remain nearby…
None of them were willing to accept that the creature they had fought might just return. None. This better had be the last any of them heard anything from it.
"I'm gonna be, like, so taking a day to walk into a college football team's locker room after this," Bubbles said, waving her plastic cup through the air. The scent of burning flesh gave everything around them a vague remembrance of the perhaps most disgusting barbecue ever, but they were by this point rather used to the horrible stench of the monster.
Olivia grimaced, but just shrugged. "You do you in your free time? I just want that hot shower and my bed."
"Same here, honestly," Kerrie added. "I don't think I'll ever feel clean again, though…"
They all shuddered, having been thoroughly covered in the juice of decomposing corpses several times over the past few days. Some things never went away once they became a part of your experiences and memories.
Just then, however, the most curious thing happened. Despite the ambient heat caused by the literal massive fire that Kerrie would forever insist had been an absolute necessity in life, the temperature dropped all of a sudden, a faint mist created for a few moments where lower temperature met hotter air.
Perplexed, the Magical Girls looked at each other… and raised their heads simultaneously, the more than welcome sight of Jackie floating down on a flying sheet of ice greeting them.
"Muh."
Literally, Olivia reacted by jumping up, propelling herself with her magic to leave her arms stretched out wide. "JACKIIIEEEEE!"
The other two, taking a moment to actually look at her, immediately realized something was different about the white-haired Magical Girl; her costume was different, for one, and she was carrying a huge, ornate cross over her shoulder, standing still in perplexed confusion as Olivia gave her a big bearhug.
"Muh. Fire. What."
Takin a few breaths in the heartening realization that the much stronger girl was back, Kerrie cleared her throat, what with the greenette busy holding onto the ice girl like a safety blanket. "There was a monster while you were gone. It, uh, it ate a bunch of people, but we stopped it pretty quickly, except it went on a rampage and just, uh, wouldn't die. It became this huge flesh tower thing and we had to burn it to the ground."
"Muh." Jackie's brows were twitching unhappily, a vague gesture at their surroundings telling Kerrie very little about what the issue was. "All this?"
"It… It was a giant corpse thing that smelled really bad and spread this gunk everywhere, it's not our fault!"
"Muh. Get off. Stinky." It was only now that Jackie seemed to realize Olivia was still smeared with some of the slime in question, despite each of them doing their best to get the worst off following their victory.
"It had to be cleansed from this earth, Jackie! It was the only choice, we had to make it stop existing with all the fire!" She wasn't sure why she was justifying herself, but screw it, who was gonna stop her? Jackie wasn't about to talk much anyways. "You should've seen it, it was ugly and evil and-"
"Muh. Shut up."
Right. Shutting up.
Having successfully shaken Olivia off, Jackie turned towards the giant burning edifice to the abhorrence of certain monsters, shifting the cross she was still for some reason carrying.
"So, uh, how was… whatever you were off doing?" It probably wasn't a vacation, all Kerrie knew was that she'd been-
"Yeah, you were in Egypt, right?" Olivia said, seeming unnaturally alert and pepper after the ordeal they'd gone through together. "Anything cool happen?"
"Got loot. Became pope. Considering religion." Each statement delivered in the same disinterested tone even as nobody present had any idea how to react, Jackie raised a hand.
A formation of ice spears appeared, each large as a person, and shot off so fast they were blurring in the air despite Kerrie's enhanced eyesight and reflexes. Their impacts, on the other hand, were hard to overlook- smashing into and through the building that became a cocoon for their hated enemy, massive construction and still sizzling flesh both sagging inwards, then downwards.
Another wave of spears followed. Then another. And another. It was only on the third barrage that Jackie deigned to speak and explain what drove her to do this. "Fuck my city. Muh. Get fucked. Muh. Gonna fuck you up. Muuuh."
By the time the entire building was crumbling down, she did something with that cross of hers. Seemingly endless lengths of gold chains shot out of it, rattling and shifting something inside, and towards the site of the newest instance of entirely justified and understandable destruction. Instead of simply impacting anything, though, they spread out, encircling and wrapping around the fleshy building.
"MUUUH!" The cry echoed through the air, entire still burning skyscraper torn in two. The upper half, full of more flesh than inorganic stuff by weight, was lifted into the air, unbelievably, and pulled towards them by Jackie- pieces of rebar and concrete rained down together with chunks of flesh, but it kept on moving nevertheless.
The chains released, snapping back inside the cross, and Jackie… took aim with it?
"Gettus Fuckus Magnus," she intoned, an even bigger, single, massive giant icicle shot from her (apparent) weapon, the projectile totally breaking the sound barrier from what it felt like before it penetrated into the half of the building still in the air, conveying its momentum to it and all but shoving it far, far away.
"This direction is… The ocean?" Olivia asked.
"Muh. Feeding fishies. Also, more punishment. Muh muh." With that, she got right back to firing off more of those mega-projectiles at the rest of the flesh tower still remaining, all but demolishing the entire area.
Well… "I fully support this measure. Is there anything in there you'd like me to set on extra fire while we're at it?"
You are still very annoyed at the team you left with the responsibility to take care of your backyard while you were on vacation, regardless of whether you told them they're responsible for things for a few days or not, but your anger is quickly fading away again as you look over the sorry state of exhaustion the three musketeers are left in; literally dead on their feet, you doubt they would even notice if you went and raped them for punishment now.
Muh. Disappointments through and through, but at least they did limit the damage… you think. You shall consider their words truthful until such a time that you can find any hint as to the opposite.
In which case you're back at penal rape, and hopefully the intended victims of said behavioral correction shall have recovered sufficiently so as to appreciate the effort you put into pumping your seed into them.
That established, you leave them to their fate, flying off to parts unknown. To them. Specifically, you saw how Melanie sent you, like, five messages when she noticed something was going on, but a few quick assurances that you were busy elsewhere and are well have her calmed down right quick. She still does want to see you to make sure in person, because apparently you leaving the country for a few days is something she feels the need to talk about in person.
Silly Melanie. The Jackie does not leave a place, a place leaves the Jackie when required. Of course last time you left New Generica, a massive monster that the bottom feeders you use to sniff out actual threats couldn't deal with happened, so maybe she does have a point…
Nah, it's not your problem. You can always just hunt down and inflict horrible fates on anything that tries anything while you're gone.
As you leave the general area, you notice a particular guy lying on a stretcher, being carried off. He is quite naked except, for some reason, a police officer's hat, instead absolutely covered in the same horrible gunk that marred the troublesome trio from head to toe, something about his face awakening memories in you…
Did you go to high school with him? Nah, you still don't remember that part of your life. He probably is connected to the police somehow, but where have you seen him…
It probably wasn't just a chance meeting, a glance at his ugly mug (compared to the glorious picture of utter manliness that is your noble visage) either- you have an excellent memory, but even you do not bother remembering every Jill and Joe…
Ah! No, wait… No, now you remember. It's that one policeman that you bugged into giving you a ride to that abandoned hospital where you never actually killed the flesh horror.
Man, this guy has to be the unluckiest man in the police force.
"How… how bad is it?" He'd grown pretty used to the stink now, to the point he could open his mouth without retching. He still wanted to, but he could repress the urge.
The first responder giving him a look-over looked Jacob in the eyes. "Congratulations. You're pregnant."
"… What?!"
"Easy, easy, it was just a joke, jeez."
"Well sorry if I don't appreciate it after what just happened. Can we get this crap off me already by the way, it's disgusting."
"Ah. Don't worry, we'll take some DNA samples just to be sure, then we'll take care of that. How much do you remember?"
"Not much, to be honest… My head's fucking killing me." He wasn't usually one to curse, but honestly, this situation deserved it.
"No wonder, you got a pretty hard conk to the head. Fucking looters, man. So, uh, just let me sum up what happened- there was a freak hurricane, demolished a couple blocks before anyone knew it."
"Right, I… I do remember helping people evacuate, when…"
"When something hit your head, yes. You did your job, but as best we can tell a couple jackasses formed up into a gang and ambushed you, knocked you right out."
"Fucking hell…"
"'Xactly. People are assholes. After they did, they took everything you had down to your underwear, then, uh… Okay, no pretty way to say this, they raped you."
He was oddly calm about this as the ambulance kept moving, probably more a matter of shock than anything. "… Fucking double hell," he said with a shaky voice.
"Yeah. That. You see why we need to take samples first. Though they, uh, they covered you pretty thoroughly, so at least there's a bunch…?"
"If you were trying to comfort me, please stop, it's not working."
"Hey, I wasn't even suggesting you try your hand at being a male stripper! … Yet."
This city was hell and he was in it, Jacob thought.
The visit to Melanie goes well enough, as these things go. She requires some assurances that you shall tell her the next time you are gone for longer, but beyond that she is fairly fine with you going on business trips as your work requires it.
She is a good girl. And friend. Girl that is also your close friend. Yup.
Alas, your return all the way home is delayed a bit as Melanie also a more physical proof of your presence, such that she insists on blowing you, but after you have deposited no less than two loads of your seed inside her stomach, she finally seems satisfied… And also generally refreshed, remarking your cum tastes better than usual.
Even better than usual, it must be said, for as it is produced by your most noble body and dispensed by your loins, it is the very ambrosia that defines the idea of 'good taste'. Truly, none would be left untouched by the ingestion of the life-giving fluid that you generate with negligent ease.
Regardless, once you have completed the cuddling of the Melanie, letting her hold onto you and replenish Jackietamin by rubbing her entire body against yours, you still have to go and pick up the rest of your group that declined to come with you the hard way when you jumped out of the plane to go deal with the fires by casually cooling the entire area down too much for them to persist, once more demonstrating the superiority of the Ice Type. You know where they ended up landing thanks to Brian texting you the address in question, but you are the only one in the party that can provide transportation from there.
… Well, you could just make them ride the tiger to the nearest Overcity access point, but the tiger is still a tiger and inferior mundanes are likely to panic at the sight of a cat that does not bother to hide it is large enough to kill them. Very strange logic, of course; cars can kill them as well, yet they aren't panicking about the thousands of lethal machines they walk past every day.
People sure are stupid. Much stupider than you.
You do as you must and, in relatively short order, ferry everyone and everything you brought with you into your home, the comfortingly disgruntling silence of the Overcity you are greeted with only ceasing near the forest now consuming even more of the surrounding urban landscape than it did when you left. Looking at the street signs, it seems this change has been added to the Sprawl's network in full, from 'Forest Avenue' being your current address' street name to several trees having more signs carved into them to denote various parts of your backyard the size of at least a city block by now.
You don't exactly bother measuring it out, okay? It's probably larger, but this is how large it definitely is.
"Muh muh, am home," you say as you enter through the front door that realizes who is coming and opens for you of its own accord. Good door. It shall not be sacrificed to the Jackie to make a point to the rest of the house.
"Welcome home, Jackie!" Surprisingly, Chuckie comes out of the kitchen, showing that Mirasol is sitting at the table stuffing her face with pie. Clearly, as your very first reactive thought tells you, you must add cream to said pie. "We were just eating lunch, would you like to join us?"
"Muh." Tempting. Especially if it involves the good stuff. You've been hankering for some of your garden fruit for a while now. "Five minutes."
The Jackie's great hunger must be stilled.
You finally feel like you have properly returned home once you have ingested a hearty helping of your homegrown fruits (rather than vegetables, which you aren't growing any of). The familiar taste of home and the accompanying slightly manic rush of energy as you metabolize through all the fruit sugar and nutrition inside of the things really put you right back into the proper mindset.
"Muh. The moment I come back half the city is on fire. Gotta do everything myself. Muh."
"It's really gotta suck having so much to do and so many things depending on you, huh?" Chuckie, eating together with you, nods along as she agrees with you in full. "Never let any of my brothers do anything either, they all just fucked it up no matter what."
"Muh. Competent help, impossible to find." You shove another slice of pie into your mouth. Well, half a slice of pie because it doesn't fit otherwise, by which you really mean the tip of a slice of pie. Details.
"Man, am I glad I don't have to work. Or do much'a anything." Mirasol, your monkey-like daughter with Viridis, also agrees that it is impossible to get people to do your job for longer than a few days without everything going tits up.
"Muh muh." Your memories are still fragments at best, but you remember that this is an issue that followed you since you were Jack instead of Jackie. How many idiots are standing ready to let themselves be eaten by the building the moment you aren't there to perform proper percussive maintenance, really?
You feast on pie late into the night, also known as eight pm. At that point you are so tired you simply stumble into bed, uncaring about the sounds of battle coming from the basement below you.
"Chuuh! I am your creator, puchuh! You will obey me or perish, chuh!"
Yep, Brian has everything under control.
Sleeping in your bed after being deployed on foreign bases on foreign soil for so long makes you sleep like a baby, complete with Tabitha coming to join you in your blanket hill propped up with plenty of pillows. She is dozing away rolled up into a little kitty ball right next to your head, such that by the time you once again wake you promptly stick your face into the fur of her neck.
Her reaction is to lean into you and purr happily, as she loves you as well as what you are doing. Cutie kitty cat.
She's really adorable. Why'd we never get a cat again?
Mostly you were both too busy to pay a cat the proper amount of attention. They're very social animals and require lots of care, way beyond just the obvious issues of food, water and cat toilets.
That and you already had a catty daughter to keep in line.
Hey!
Once long familiar routines are still feeling invigorating and pleasant even as you slide into them seamlessly, from your confused shuffle out of bed and the first piss of the day to the overly long way you have to take, all the way down all the stairs to the ground floor whereupon to find breakfast.
'Breakfast', in this case, meaning bumping your head into Chuckie who is already awake until she agrees to help you throw something together. Luckily, the former farm girl still bearing horrible scars sometimes made sure to stock everything you need to make pancakes, somehow, and so pancakes are what you eat.
Pancakes, it must be said, are amazing. The one invention mankind made that is a clear good in this world. Everything else can be weaponized somehow, but not pancakes.
You clearly should claim to have invented them yourself. You shall consider the matter and how to present it for best effect, m-hm.
"You like 'em? We used to eat pancakes with chocolate cream, but there wasn't any o' that in the buildings the plants crushed up."
"Muh." Naturally, a great loss for mankind. Yet even so, the soft dough of the sweet, sweet breakfast food now being mass produced as you are too busy eating and Chuckie takes the use of the frying pan over fully is simply delicious. You have to cut it up into slices to eat, so thick and succulent are the pancakes in question.
Just then, the sliding glass door to your garden opens, Mirasol strolling inside and brushing her feet off on the mat laid out for just that purpose. That wasn't here when you embarked on your vacation and looting tour around Egypt, now that you think about it. "Oh, hey mommy, didn't see you there. Oooh, we having pancakes for breakfast?"
"Muh." This is new, though not entirely unwelcome, you'll admit. More people to admire your radiance is a great way to start the day, to say the least.
"Oh yeah, I basically started to visit for breakfast a day or so after you were gone. We also used some of your leftover ice to store a bunch of fruits and stuff to make more food with."
"Muh?!"
"We just ate those sweets you had left in there. It wasn't much anyways, so we made space."
"!!!" Your chocolate! Nooooooo! "!!!"
Chuckie looks back over her shoulder. "Is Jackie making sounds of distress?"
"Yup," Mirasol says, popping the 'p' like she didn't just reveal herself to be an utter war criminal. "Look, you can gripe over this or I can show you the chocolate trees later, your choice."
"…!" There are chocolate trees?! What happened while you were gone!?!
They exist. They really do. The legendary, mythical tree upon which life is born. Screw the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil, you have found real religion right here.
Upon the branches of your most blessed form of life, thick bark standing with deep rents in it where it splits open in irregular patterns, you see several thick clumps of brown, hanging from what is obviously a direct manifestation of your desires. No nut nor fruit grows upon it, merely a brown, smooth mass merely waiting to be plucked.
"Took a bit of work, but if you dissolve sugar in water and water the tree with it you can basically adjust the chocolate, from dark to brown to even white, though that one's a pain."
"Muh. Choccy tree." You do the one thing you never thought you'd ever do, stepping closer to touch the circumference of the tree. Then, overcome with emotion, you hug it. "Never leave me."
Sometimes, sometimes the world is worth living in, when a glimmer of hope and faith in a better tomorrow manifest themselves. Ruining Brian's life is one of those cases, but so is this.
You may or may not shed a manly tear or two before you finally leave the chocolate tree behind, though not before trying out some of its bounty for yourself. The current crop is delicious, though it could be a bit sweeter- there is a reason you enjoy the industrially fabricated chocolate with loads of sugar the most.
A thought for later. Much as you would like to create a massive grove of your favorite plant, you have work to do on this fine day, knowing that someone has to do it and nobody else can be trusted to. You do not particularly care about the mundanes besieged by terrible horrors from all sides, but dammit you kind of do like having access to a more or less functioning city and all the things that come with it.
When did you become such a goody-two-shoes again? It's not like you to give a shit beyond the loot you get from killing monsters. Maybe you should reconsider your priorities…
… Nah, screw it. This is fine, you're fine, everything's fine.
The first thing for you to do then, in the interest of your official duties you are totally taking seriously and not at all mostly doing to have something productive to do ('productive' defined here as 'generating loot for the Jackie'), is to get ready and leave your home again, out to have a gander around Generica City.
Specifically, you are looking to visit Melanie again, now that she has calmed down from the whole thing yesterday and will be more receptive to any inquiries that you may have. Especially considering you desire to consult her in her role as a provider of news and intelligence on various threats, something you do believe may or may not be booted along by the narrative to keep you nice and occupied doing magical girl things.
Because you are, as you have already established, the protagonist, making the genre of reality that of a magical girl show. And it would be hard to have one of those without plenty of things for a magical girl to do, logically, hence Melanie always 'just so happens' to overhear the specific information you need to hear.
It all makes sense. Could it be you are… a genius?
Your once again reaffirmed status as the very smartest being in the known universe aside, however, your preparations pass quickly, as do your attempts to make sure everything is going alright around your home; Tabitha went off to stroll around your garden after having her kibbles and she probably smells enough like you to ensure none of the critters around are stupid enough to trouble her, whereas a strange scent and occasional wafts of smoke come from the basement.
You swiftly decide to ignore the latter, as a matter of course. You may consider helping Brian if he beg on his… knees? Knees. But until then, this is his problem and he better solve it on his own. Yes, sure, not having access to the basement facilities is a minor annoyance, but you can wait a couple hours, easily.
Thanks to the portal you finally excavated from the nightmare place that is currently a mall again (note to self, explore it sometime, the lack of people you can rob is made up for with the fact you can leisurely stroll in and take your time taking everything not nailed down), you don't particularly need to pay attention to your schedule anymore, the extremely convenient transitional location right behind it letting you pass through at any time you want. This is not something you plan to reveal to anyone else easily, of course, as limiting potential followers after your home to specific times is actually pretty nice, but yeah, it's a thing.
You could easily work around having only specific opportunities to penetrate the veil separating dimensions, of course, but this makes your scheduling (also known as doing whatever you feel like) even easier than before.
This sees you enter the proper, real-world city you are based out of much more leisurely, this trip intended more as a quick, temporary visit before you disappear off the face of the Earth again for the day, given the many important things you have to do within your sorcerous base, but it never hurts to go ahead and knock on Melanie's window on a weekend, now does it?
… Funny how that works out. More often than not, it is the weekend when something happens in the morning, so that mundane obstacles like school have less of a chance for screwing things up. It is by no means a hard and fast rule, but more of a general tendency that you've begun to notice.
What day of the week was it again yesterday? And… Actually, you know what, this is fine. Everything's fine. If the world wants to decide the week consists of more weekend than normal days, you shall allow it.
Your girlfriend, who is still a girl that is your very close friend, opens her window wide after only about twenty seconds of your insistent knocking, smiling at you. "Hey Jackie."
"Muh. Morning. Want some pie?"
You meant to eat the leftovers from breakfast later, but you just realized you may as well share it with her. Totally not because you feel somehow bad over forgetting her for about a week while you were in Egypt, that would require you to both be able to feel bad and care. So you don't. Simple as that.
"It's really nice to see you, by the way. We should do casual cuddle dates more often." You are sitting right next to Melanie, the slender, black-haired girl takin small bite from the food you brought, held on little cardboard plates like you'd use at parties or something that you also brought with you (these kinds of things come in handy at the weirdest of times). And when you say you sit next to her, you mean you're literally leaning against her side, rubbing against her a little periodically to remind her you're here. "I like 'em."
"Muh." You consume your own slice of pie, still taking massive bites that make those of, say, an ant look like you are devouring mountains at a time, truly.
"So, like, didn't have the chance to ask yet, but how was Egypt? You had fun or was it, uh, just work?"
"Muh," you repeat, tilting your head to bump against her shoulder. "Both. Lots of work. Took time off too."
"That's good to hear. Make sure not to overwork yourself." Her hand lands on your head, but it is not an attack, so you shall allow it, closing your eyes to signal she may proceed patting it. "There's been some weird stuff going on while you were gone, too, but I figured it could wait until you replied. Until the flesh thing inferno happened."
"Muh, improperly handled. Remedial training, muh." Or at least that's what you're telling her.
"Honestly, whatever it was, I'm just glad it's dead. That said, the other things- nothing super threatening, but I figure it's something to look into when you have the time?"
"Hit me, muh." Really, how bad could it possibly be?
"First off, there's… A bunch of circumstantial stuff? Some of the regulars at the music shop were gossiping about it, but there's a lot of trucks belonging to chemical manufacturers delivering stuff to a particular address. The interesting part is that that address actually belongs to a hospital right next to the university I told you about before, if you remember?"
Instantly, alarms ring inside your head. Your intuition, as infallible as it is precise, tells you that this is clearly the work of the one opponent that managed to get away from you and turn himself into a recurring villain.
That's right. This is absolutely your Pokemon Rival in play, you're sure of it. "Muh."
Melanie, on the other hand, knows nothing of these things, obviously not having invested into keeping up with your bid to become the Genericana Gym Leader. "Then there's the other one. Down at the beach, people say there's some kind of giant octopus? But-"
You remember what happened last time you went to the beach. First you were swallowed by a nasty monster, then you had sex with the Amazonian shark lady, but it involved you letting her fuck you. "Muh. Ocean sucks. Can I freeze it?"
"That's… probably a bad idea, Jackie. Maybe you can just keep away from it?" Melanie shakes her head, shrugging. "Anyways, it doesn't seem to be anything bad, nobody went missing or anything. It's just kind of a persistent rumor, so I thought it may be worth checking out."
"Mm." You wait for a moment, but she doesn't seem to have anything else to say. "That all?"
"Yeah, normally it's three things, isn't it?" She chuckles, shaking her head. "But yeah, the rest is just entirely mundane gossip I overheard at the shop. I doubt you would really be all that interested."
Huh. Maybe the flesh monster your minion trio defeated is counted as part of this crop of monsters? Then again, maybe it's something else entirely. Imposible to say.
You take yet another (massive) bite from your slice of pie. Chuckie really made them far too big, it takes you several dozens of these to properly devour a whole one!
Returning home after extended distraction applied via staring menacingly at Melanie with big, big eyes and luring her to spend more time with you via more bodily contact, to the point she only realizes belatedly she may be late to school, you first check up how things are going downstairs; while you do not need the basement to do anything as such, it is an admittedly very convenient place, given it has a lot of your tools you made Brian give you, among other things.
Luckily, the basement door has stopped releasing smoke and the stench of burned metal and dried sunlight (no, you do not know how that works either) is reduced a lot compared to when you left, which you choose to interpret as a good sign. Entering the lower reaches of your home reserved for your High Sciencer and Court Jester, you do however quickly find him pacing not far from the entrance.
"Chuuh! Jackie, everything is under control and there is no danger," he badly lies. "That said, chuh, I would recommend not entering any floors below the fifth underground one, and if you do to watch out for ambushes from inside walls. And ceilings and floors."
"Muh. Fine." None of your stuff is below the second floor anyways. Third at most, if you count your personal storage you claimed by taping a piece of paper saying 'Jackie's stuff, no touchy' onto the door of the room in question. You mostly use it to keep any sensitive materials or stuff you don't see yourself using outside of your workshop. "About time. Poor work ethic, Brian, you are getting in the way of science."
The demented cat plushie twitches, staring up at your face. You stare back, entirely emotionless.
"Muh."
You know how to make it sting by now.
But yes, science is what you are planning on doing. Leaving Brian behind where he is having what you believe to be a mild epileptic attack right now, you go on and search out your workshop, which you see is not at all affected by… whatever is going on with him.
You switch out your costume, your guns turning into your massive new cross, the thing's weight pressing down on you rather quite heavily. Far from enough to truly bother you, but still. Using it, you fire off a bunch of the golden spears it is capable of producing, pounding small holes into your test wall before you collect them in several bundles.
Now to the experiment at hand. You have your magical transforming sword, which has in the past shown it can absorb magic of particular types to unlock new forms for itself. You also have an unlimited supply of holy spears, the first batch of which you are clamping in place before raising the sword in question.
A good swing and you have cleaved them all in twain. Observing the moment of destruction using your magical senses in detail, you see that… something seems to be happening, an interaction taking place between the temporarily present weapons' divine magic and the magical abilities of your sword, but it doesn't quite seem to click, for lack of a better word.
Naturally, this calls for an entirely sane approach of clarification. Looking at the magical shapeshifting artefact, you make sure it knows how this will go. "Muh. I am more stubborn than you. And have all day."
It does not react… But you know your words have an effect, for you are filled with protagonistic might and any and all actions you undertake are inherently important, including talking to inanimate objects.
Now to repeat the same experiment a few hundred times until something happens…
Divine Form: Transformed through holy mana; deal double normal damage against demons, undead and similar unholy creatures and, up to twice per day, may be used to activate a blessed laser attack that deals double damage to a single target at range and may be used to melt obstacles
Finally, your efforts are crowned with success. You didn't count how many holy spears you had to break to make your sword trigger, didn't bother beyond the first couple dozen, but just like you told your weapon, you are very stubborn and very ready to invest time and effort into these things.
Again and again you clamp bundles of spears together to hack them apart using your magically resilient blade, occasionally using too many at once so you can't just get through all of them at once, though that just means you're trying it again in short order until it works out. You are not the kind of disgraceful science-er that takes not succeeding at first as an excuse to not immediately try again and try something else instead.
In a fight, sure. If something doesn't work there, you can change targets, at least. Otherwise, though? Just because your massive magical dick doesn't fit into a tight little girl (or boy) at first doesn't mean you shouldn't keep on forcing it in anyways, just saying.
Magical girl hentai truly is a most patrician field of pornography.
All similarities to sex aside, though, your experiment does work out, as you'd mentioned. When you cleave through the last couple of spears, their metal rent apart forcefully, a change occurs within the sword you are using for this. A bright glows runs throughout its length, from the handle to the tip of its blade, golden light breaking out forcefully.
It lengthens a fraction, the handguard merging with the main body of the weapon itself as gold pushes out of it, becoming decorations and etching runes along the handle. The core of the blade becomes almost a sun in its own right, long shaft running throughout and becoming a relentless, ever-watchful edifice of the punishment a just guardian shall bring unto the wrong, all deceitful and harmful beings that cannot escape their merciless gaze.
You give it a swing. Then you hold it out in front of you, fiddling a little bit with it- directing some of your magic to push against it, you figure out its real use, a bright beam of concentrated sun laser boring into the wall, melting metal with little warning and almost painful brightness.
"Muh. I approve." All that go against the will of The Jackie shall receive their due punishment!
Hey, you're both the leader and the deity of the faith, as your pope hat proves. You may as well have sun lasers that are, obviously, powered by ice mirrors somehow, right?
Because Ice Type is best type. It is the alpha and the omega, the origin and the end. Nothing exists save that which springs from the Ice Type, that which does not spring from it exists not. Including this cool new toy for you to play with.
"Chuuuh! Chuhuuuh! Something cut the power cord! Containment break! Puchuh! Alert Red, Code C, activate countermeasures!"
"Muh." Right, good enough cue to take a quick break while you let Brian deal with whatever he just carelessly bungled in his negligence to keep his laboratories in working order. You wanted to look through your ice magic instruction book a little, anyways…
Slippy Ice: Medium area spell that conjures exceedingly slippery ice over a given surface. Any creatures that try to traverse it must roll a DC 5 AGI check or else automatically fall, becoming prone for one round. One new roll must be made every round while they remain on this ice, upon success they may move at normal speed for one round. Costs 10 mana.
"Muh, muh. Muh, muh." You muh to yourself, reading over the suggestions and concepts laid out by the book you bought from Baphomet. Naturally, all of these things are simplicity itself for you, as you are a true master of everything ice, but even so you have often received useful inspiration from it, though you have long since reached the ends of what the text can give you.
There is but one last thing, really. A 'spell' this beginner's textbook goes out of it way to point out as useful, on account of allowing a relatively new and weak spellcaster to inconvenience or even wholly incapacitate entire groups of foes with relatively modest mana consumption. Specifically, a specialized form of ice creation.
The creation of very slippery ice, that is. Make it slippery enough and, well, nobody can come close- making it much harder for, say, many simple monsters to approach easily, for example.
You never bothered to look into this before, as you are so superior to the 'average' magic caster just on account of being a magical girl to begin with you are not overly concerned at such possibilities as fighting things up close and personal if you for some reason choose to engage in a way that lets them rather than, say, bombard them with massive amounts of magic from afar because you can just float far above them.
That said, it probably couldn't hurt to give this little trick a try, see if you can find a use for it. Who knows, maybe it'll come in handy, maybe not. Not like it's particularly hard to learn and memorize what to do as a proper, concrete spell, you can do that within five minutes of opening the chapter in question inside Foundational Ice Magic. It simply just so happens that you feel the need to polish it a little, get it to the point it may actually be useful to you.
Or at least reach a decent starting point towards that.
"Chuuh, Jackie, did you-" Having waited near the basement stairs, you are immediately aware when Brian comes up, which is why you can immediately try it out, in fact. With a sound like bare flesh rubbing along a pane of glass, the plush creature slides straight back down the stairs, now a very smooth ramp. "Chuhat?"
"Muh. You shall be present or go away at my sufferance," you declare, quietly smugging at him as you follow after him. "Also, help. Need to subjugate Efreet."
"Puchuh, the lamp?" Brian asks from the bottom of the stairs, your own descend far more elegant and casual than his own. "Chuh can chuhust do it by yourself."
"Muuh," you complain. "Make it give up. Break its free will."
"… Chuh, I liked you much better when you pretended to be retarded. I know prechuhly what you are doing."
"Rude. Muh. Also, is it working?"
"Lead the way, chuh."
Actually summoning the Fire Type (ugh) creature now more or less under your control takes quite a bit of magic, regardless of how one measures it- apparently, people have come up with a whole bunch of ways to describe it, mana, prana, magical energy, magicka, mojo and a bunch more. In modern times, it seems just calling it 'mana' is the norm, at least in your own general area, but again, doesn't matter what it's called exactly.
Long story short, you, being magically omnipotent as you are, have a whole bunch of the stuff. Even so, you don't quite have enough to charge this stupid lamp up in one go, though at least after a minute or two of rest you can totally keep going and actually summon the creature contained within right away if you so choose.
You do not, of course. Instead, Brian has you insert the lamp into a machine, a whole bunch of weird thingies that look like magical sensors and beams of energy unfolding around it as you do.
"Chuh, this is fairly simple, as Efreets like this one are essentially just demonic spirits, puh. Their forms are malleable enough."
"Muh. Gimme that." Bumping him aside, you take a seat in front of the computer screen he was focused on, looking over the weird keyboard with an unknown key layout and even labeling. "Muh. Mumuh. Mumumuh."
"Jackie, you have no idea-" You begin typing away, getting some kind of simulation program to open by just intuitively proceeding through what was already going on. Wating no further time, you get right to rearranging the spirit-creature's features within it, the controls requiring just a bit of experimentation. "Chuuh, how even? You're no idiot, I get that, but how? You can't even read the inscriptions!"
"The power of horny compels me." You look at him. "Muh."
The amount of time you take to do this right is considerable, as you can't simply take this thing and turn it into quite anything you want; no matter what form it takes, an Efreet is still an Efreet. Still, you are perfectly capable of twisting and changing many things about how it will materialize, its gender and overall size first of all.
Sadly, you cannot make her smaller than yourself, the obviously compensating fiery hell-spirit not able to be squished smaller than a massive titan of a man such as yourself for some reason. You can, however, turn her only a little taller than most grown human females, the relative sizes working out for some reason.
By the time you're ready to complete the summoning, the once grotesquely muscular creature is about to be in for a rude awakening indeed. Brian insists he has to do some small finetuning, but you don't really care as long as the gist of your work is maintained, something he easily agrees to.
"Muh! I command thee!" Rubbing the lamp, you issue forth a fiery swirl of magic, your own most noble ice mana (because you can't really do any other type) defiled into this inferior element.
"… Oh great," a burning hot (in the sense of passion) voice drawls, "this is going to be one of those centuries."
Great, big horns remain, but where once they were carried high by an inhuman figure, now they are attached to a female form, hair made of flame that extends into a burning cloak over her shoulders. Skin made of hardened lava, her upper chest is made to look like it's still glowing hot and liquid, giving her the impression of wearing clothes on first look even as only a few crumbs of stone remain to hide her nipples. Her dark arms are covered in black 'gloves' coming all the way to her upper arms, a similar patterns intimating stockings on her thighs, all the while her hands end in long, cruelly spiky claws, entirely inhuman in case the black mask for a face and the glowing orange eyes didn't clue anyone in.
Then there are the pieces of metal, the majority of the Efreet's clothes turned into them, covering her legs below her tights and floating beside them. Her lower legs, however, are not particularly well-defined, just burning sticks of sharpened rock poking out of the armor in question.
Most of her torso is completely naked, letting you see her tight pussy and slim, curvy waist in all their glory as well as allowing her tail move freely, the spaded thing loosely wrapping around her legs as she fixes you with a stare.
"Muh. Good work," you congratulate yourself.
Naturally, you immediately proceed to go ahead and dart forwards to stretch your hands towards the brand new pair of titties you just created, wanting to confirm their feel and sensitivity for yourself. However, before you can do so, the floating Failed Ice Type creature glides backwards, already well-used to her current mode of locomotion.
"Hey there, hands off the goodies." Her voice is like a heat haze, you decide, an almost visible phenomenon flickering in the air before her coal-black face. "I have to obey orders, I don't have to let you molest me."
"Muh. Counterargument, can't stop me. Beat you last time, can summon you whenever."
You get the impression she grimaces, even though you can only really see her eyes- one eye, really, her hair is covering one. "I will point out I still have some very pointy claws."
"Muuh." You aren't about to try and discuss the terms of your relationship with your new P*kemon, that's not how these kinds of partnerships work. They consist of you doing whatever you want and the recipients of your activities learning to love you for it, for you are the ultimate likable person that everyone must eventually worship the mere presence of. It's how it always worked in the games, too, so obviously you're working off of the established science here.
If you have to make this one fight a hundred battles in the name of your loot and glory, you shall do it, just you watch.
Emanating a great deal of the one true type of mana in existence, you snatch at the Efreet's legs, grabbing both of them to pull her toward yourself. "Hey! Let go!"
Ignoring her, you spread those same legs, your brute strength more than enough to physically dominate her much smaller frame. Forget the fact you cannot reach much further than you already are, of course.
Now then, to continue proving you are much better at science than Brian, you shall now perform an experiment. Your modifications combined with your natural temperature tolerance present as long as you use passive magic to keep yourself cool enough should allow you to come into close, intimate contact with a body even as hot as the one you are manhandling, but you must test it out… And regenerating your face would likely be easier than regenerating your dick. Or at least less painful.
So you lean in, giving the Efreet's privates a sniff. The scent kind of reminds you of lighty burnt cinnamon, though you could be wrong, or it could be a temporary effect of your changes. One way or another you quickly lick over the soft petals bared to your touch, the until now hesitant magical creature freezing in place. She tastes kind of nice, kind of like a bonfire smells, is the closest you can describe it as.
"Ah…" Hands with long, harp claws for fingers settle over your head as you continue. You do not particularly care, trusting your natural vitality to just heal off any scratches you sustain, instead wiggling your wet tongue deeper into her equally wet honeypot, nowhere near as dry a one would imagine when thinking of a fiery desert demon spirit thingy.
Your hands on her knees spreading them to make space for you, her hands on your head and back, you take a long moment to properly test your theories, but yes, even licking all over her inner folds your tongue remains unhurt. Her insides are hot, they feel like they should be boiling over, but they don't actually burn you.
Satisfied with the conclusion you've come to (and your chin smeared with steaming fluid slowly evaporating away), you pull back, nodding with satisfaction. "Muh."
Not quite as satisfied would be the smokin' chick (literally) you just got all hot and bothered. Is it just you or is it getting hot in here? You-
Daddy, please, no dad puns!
In deference to what little mercy you possess, you decide not to break the Geneva Convention more than necessary. For now.
"Why'd you stop?" The Efreet growls, trying to pull you back into her crotch. "If you do this regularly I may just not choose to misinterpret orders, you know?"
"Muh. Better idea." With a flex of your mighty body, muscles covering it like mountain chains, you easily shred through your outfit, by which you mean you shrug off your clothes in short order. Your originally demonic in origin (now Jackieonic, of course) manhood stands loud and proud into the air, wide rod once more ready to go forth, unto the breach. "Fuck."
"Hah… Having a female body after so long… I'm not used to being on this side of-"
You yank at her waist, pulling her down to basically lie in the air in front of you. "Fuck," you repeat, staring at her pussy.
"Maybe we should slow down a little? I'm sure we can-"
"Fuuuck," you hiss out, your fat head pushing into her already, soft folds now forced apart and adhering to your girth as you push and push and push, her flexible, but incredibly tight walls forced to give way around you.
You thought she was hot earlier. Scratch that, now; she is cooking, burning, boiling, melting, all of that at once even as she doesn't so much as inconvenience you a single inch of your crusade into her depths. She is yielding and pliant, yet even so it takes all your effort to maintain your icy consistency with every moment you spend inside of her.
Worse, it feels good. You are not supposed to feel good like this, you are Ice Type!
"Auauaua…"
"Ahh… Come, deeper, child of man. You have not satisfied me yeeee-!" In a massive, straining effort, you ram yourself deep into her, piercing all the way into her depths, the Efreet still floating as she has been so far.
How's that for satisfaction, huh? "Muh!" You pull back, a brutal thrust sending your balls slapping against her butt and your knot smooshing flush against her lower lips. "Muh!" Her entire body is rocking every time you ram into her, jiggling and writhing just how you like 'em! "Muh!"
"Ah, ah, ah! Harder! Faster!" Glowing eyes meet yours, obvious challenge inside them only serving to make you harder. You can feel your nails digging into her flesh, your will of pure ice unshaken at the test before it.
There is no more foreplay, no slow working yourself up and up until you're in the throes of passion and ruining the delectable cunt you're fucking. You are handing out the Jackie treatment now, unfiltered, raw desire to breed dominating your mind to the exclusion of all else. You paw the spiritual being's body, even reaching her tiddies now, but over all else your hips become a jackhammer in motion.
What feels like sticky lava against your skin is dripping all over your crotch and running over your thighs, but the heat does not bother you at all. Your ribbed cock is forcing more and more involuntarily pleased moans out of your mate, smooth red skin rippling over her muscles as she takes it nice and proper. "Nh! Ngh! Ah!"
Her strong legs waving through the air, one slung around your hips for stability, you have her at your mercy, your strong masculine presence completely conquering this female. "Muh, breed!" You exclaim, rapidly smalling yourself into her, your knot pleasurably pressed against her entrance, but it's not quite enough, you have to fill her up and make it take! "Breeeeed!"
With a last act of effort, you stretch the entirety of the remodeled Efreet's snug canal over your cock, a whining noise escaping your lips as, finally, you knot her up, the sudden burst of pleasure driving you over the edge. Your balls clenching, you feel a twitching, shuddering orgasm rip its way through your spine and into your brain, only reinforced when the bitch you're breeding betrays her own go at it with a sudden, wrenching tightening of her pussy.
"Aaahh… Shit, that felt good. It's been millenia since I had a pussy to get filled. Don't get me wrong, a dick's just fine too, but I've been kind of missing this." Oh great, she's talkative after coming. Her long, spiky fingers on your face, she makes you look at her. "Now just remember, you have to keep doing this twice a day, so-"
"Chuuh," Brian makes, casually walking inside to flick a switch on the wall that activates some kind of ventilation system to keep the scent of ex from settling in, "don't bother, she's too stubborn to be mesmerized. Just keep her drugged on her usual aphrodisiac cocktails and you'll keep her occupied just that much more, chuh."
Hah. Look at him. So jealous he can't know girls and breed them nice and big like you can.
"Puchuh, also, keep in mind spiritual beings like this one just give birth to raw mana or crystals at most unless True Love is in play."
…. Dammit Brian, do you have to ruin everything?
It could be said that you have, you consider with some measure of mild exhaustion, done a lot of exhausting things today that have, so far, exhausted you. You really deserve to take a break, if only to make that dull, throbbing itch in what you suspect to be your prostate go away before you have to focus on anything else.
You just pumped a lot of your divine Jackiesperm into the Efreet you claimed as spoils of war. And you mean a lot. Her otherwise slim waist already looked kind of pregnant when you were done with her, a clear bump visible on her belly- of course caused by the sheer amount of seed you made sure to plant.
That looked kind of sexy, which caused you to be hornier again, in turn leading you to knot her again, repeating ad nauseam until you reached the point even your massive regeneration had a hard time keeping up with how much fluid you were losing, plus something deep inside of your body feeling swollen and sore. What you suspect to be your prostate, as you mentioned already, though you can't really be sure either way.
Hence why you are now ascending the stairs up to the first floor, slowly on account of your legs protesting just a bit, in order to look over your very first loot room. All your serious magical loot is stowed away securely, of course, but you stole a lot of 'souvenirs' while you were in Egypt and the Vatican, the magically irrelevant objects now part of your collection needing to be put somewhere you can actually admire your riches, not to mention they would just clog up your box of holding otherwise.
The thing does not have unlimited capacity, for the record. It has a lot, but it is far from enough, you feel the need to state.
This is what you've had Elena and a few golem mooks busy doing for the past couple hours, by the by. Arranging the statuettes, laying out the gold inscriptions torn out of ancient walls, sorting through valuable, though mundane metal pieces to decide what should go where… And that's just the Egyptian stuff!
You're pretty sure your loot kittens may have managed to open some kind of vault in 'men-in-dresses' central, or at least you have some ridiculous ancient scepter, a bunch of rings with shiny gems and a few bits and pieces of other non-magical jewelry to add to your authentic pope hat. In short, it takes some surprising amount of attention to detail to put it all into an orderly room, though clearly you chose the correct person for the job; Elena is lazing about and just telling her golem minions how much they suck every time they get anything done until it works just right.
Truly, none could have done it better. You are simply too proud of her work ethic. On an unrelated note, you may need to look into somehow adding additional rooms to your house if you keep this level of loot intensity up for much longer.
There is simply not enough space to put everything not nailed down you grab at this rate. First world problems, that, aren't they?
… Ah well. You've mostly recovered, so off you go trying to find a way to transport living beings inside your storage bags, boxes and whatever else you can come carve out of adequate raw materials you kill around town. Stuffing, say, Olivia inside your box for easy access to a desperate puppy slut can't be the worst idea you've ever had…
Living Storage: Modification to runic storage objects that allows living beings of up to half a Jackie's size to enter and survive storage for up to half a day (twelve hours), automatically being ejected otherwise. May cause vertigo and mild nausea, so caution is advised in using magical bags, boxes etc. in this manner. Automatically applied to any self-created objects that may benefit from this characteristic.
It takes a lot of work to get anything like what you're intending to work properly, for several reasons- mostly because while storing a bunch of stuff is easy enough with enough magic, that assumes the stuff you're storing isn't actively metabolizing anything.
Y'know, things like needing sunlight to survive, or oxygenated air. Or, say, having issues with being crammed into a very full room like a piece of furniture used in a spontaneous game of Tetris. That's not actually quite what's going on inside your storage medium like your trusty box and the bag before it, but it's close enough to make the point.
So it takes a lot of additional rune work to get this whole thing properly survivable, mostly on a basis of trial and error as you apply several differing schemes to test bags and try them out. Not yourself, of course, that is what you have a functionally unlimited amount of test subjects for in the form of the imps.
They are very grateful for the opportunity to assist in the advancement of science, screaming in joy even as you use them up by the dozens and their squashed, dismembered, somehow mummified or horribly mutated bodies stack up at the side of your workshop. Among other causes of painful deaths, anyways.
And yes, their wide-open bloodshot eyes and the foam at some of their mouths tell you they really, truly, absolutely want this. There can be no mistake.
You eventually do manage to find a combination of runes that gives you reliable, positive results, thankfully. They still die if you cram too many of them into the box you're using, but up to half a Jackie can be stored alive for extended periods of time.
And yes, you are a measurement for things like size, biomass and importance. You are, after all, an absolute unit.
I don't know, this one is kind of cringeworthy, but it's also a little bit funny.
For now, you shall leave the test boxes you made for a long-term test, having put one imp, three imps and Brian into them respectively. The rest of them will just stay inside the cages of unmelting ice you put them into for later tests, you aren't planning to actually release them anytime soon.
While you wait to see what happens with your new and improved (as in, possible) storage of living beings, the cameras inside your workplace adjusted to record any changes that may happen for later, you get going doing stuff elsewhere, because like hell are you just going to keep sitting around waiting.
You are The Jackie. Things wait on and for you, not the other way around, and experiments are no exception to that rule.
That cleared up, you once more embark on a journey, though this one won't lead you to another continent. Presumably, anyways, you actually aren't quite sure where the settlement you usually visit when you need something would be located relative to the real world, come to think about it.
Then again, geographical accuracy is kind of nonexistent when it comes to a literally separate dimension made up entirely of cityscape. So, really, who gives a crap about it?
But yes, that is where you're going. You have important business to take care of, after all, verily important, even. Extremely super-duper must-be-done important. To be honest, you are surprised you have been able to wait about it until now, if anything.
You're familiar with the way there, though it seems like it's changed a bit- the nearest mark leading you towards the central hub you want to get to has changed position after your garden grew over the building it used to be on, so now it's on a tree instead. You have to go through a few additional bends and turns to navigate from there, taking care to walk between a particular pair of trees further onward, but that's about it.
Your magical vision lets you figure out what you need to do exactly, so it's not like it's all that difficult, really. For most people the Overcity is a treacherous sprawl of confusing pathways that don't make any sense whatsoever, but as long as you generally know which way you want to go, it's actually easier to find your path thanks to the magic in the air.
Once you hit town, you quickly summon a couple golems, of course, no less than ten of them. One after the other they take form, ice forcing itself into existence like the primordial source of reality it is.
"Battle Golem Elena, reporting for duty!" Your Elena is grinning wryly, saluting you with the sword she quickly grabs by stretching her arm out behind your back, the motion practiced a good bit at this point. Including the shapeshifting, yes.
"Muh. Keep to poor places."
"No need for another mission briefing, we just talked it out together!" She isn't wrong, but your head is not a replacement for a proper affirmation of anything. It's not reliable enough for that. "Me and the boys are going for a tour through the weak and crappy parts of town and shaking down anyone that has anything useful, or cash."
"Muh," you nod. "Need some knicknacks for the musketeers."
Maybe if they had a few actually useful magical items, like you went out of your way to acquire towards the start of your own career as an omnipotent, brilliant god-being, they wouldn't have nearly burnt down a sizable chunk of the city. More sizable than the one they actually did burn down, anyway.
How useless. They didn't even think to just flatten the buildings nearby immediately after they blew everything up to keep the fire from spreading. They still get a bare passing grade for actually managing to kill the monster they were fighting, but no more than that.
Insufficient for the job, that's what they are. Not quite at the level of goblin fodder (and at even this veiled reference to a certain currently dead girl, the back of your head grows quiet for once), but only by a measure of technicality.
Yes, they could probably defeat those goblins you fought yourself, as long as they were careful. With the three of them, they may even manage to take on that hobgoblin that gave you some minor trouble back then and win. By themselves, though?
Nah, easy win for Team Uglystink. Just saying.
It's seriously troubling for you as well when the backup you rely on to cull the weak around your city aren't up to snuff, hence your initiative for the improvement of their equipment quality. Insofar as they need at least a few items they can use to turn a fight around, give themselves that critical edge they need at the right moment…
Basically a Magical Girl narrative's bread and butter. It's not like this is particularly hard to put into practice or anything, either, anyone can pull the pin on a grenade when it comes down to it.
Of course they may then blow themselves up, but that's still better than being a hindrance to yourself.
Those are the thoughts circling inside your head as you wander about, your destination firmly in mind. The layout of the city inside the Overcity (like some kind of matryoshka doll, huh?) doesn't really shift the way it does elsewhere in this place, so you don't even need to take that much into account.
Which is why you easily arrive in relatively short order, guided in part by the smell of something delicious.
That's right, you're visiting Kitten's Cat Cafe! Which is really more of a restaurant, but nobody wears the detail around here. Taking out your kitty booze, you open the doors.
"Muh. Alcohol."
How very like you, to condense your message as poignantly as possible. Crimson, one of the three cat girls that run this place, is already there and blinking at you, uncomprehending. "Huh?"
Ugh. This will take some explaining, won't it…?
Ten figures were walking along the street, casual yet with an air of threat and even menace about them. They did not go out of their way to block off the entire area with their bodies as they went, merely relying on the scare of their presence to shoo any passerby away.
It felt cold around them, like their very presence leeched the warmth away from the living, every breath one took leaving them a little closer to death than before.
Aside from any undead that just happened to be in the area, but ones that were rational enough to be tolerated were pretty rare to begin with.
The lead creature snapped its fingers, something about the sound unnatural and strange. Like the hand used to make it was not made of flesh and blood, but rather some harder, very different material entirely. It wasn't unheard of to have folks like that around by any means, but most of them were an unusual sight indeed in this place.
The strong didn't bother coming here… usually. And it took more magic than most of the locals would see in their entire lives to just go and come to life if you wouldn't do so normally.
"Clothes," a feminine voice called out. As it did, the cold, translucent figures twisted and morphed, now appearing to be veiled within casual clothes, jeans, sneakers, hoodies and similar, as well as two or three of them in ill-sitting, cheap suits.
None of them had any individual faces, however, all looking equally inhuman and rough, like someone had heard of humans through half-forgotten stories and vague descriptions at most and tried to replicate them. Their eye sockets were empty, their jaws a little too pronounced, no visible lips near the cracks that were their mouths, merely shallow indentations where their nostrils should be…
It was an uncanny display of inhumanity. And in this place, so close to baseline human levels of power, that meant it was a display of strength.
It didn't take long for the group to come upon one of the bottom-dwellers that were too slow to dive into a nearby alley or hiding spot, one of the typically unwashed masses one could find in most areas on this level. The leader, the only feminine creature among them, tilted its head towards him, causing the rest to spring into action.
"Wha- whoah! Whoah, whoah, whoah, what?!" His arms grasped by unyielding hands, the man looked around with wide eyes, struggling fruitlessly as his legs joined in on the fun and he was bodily lifted into the air. "What's going on?!"
"This is a shakedown. What do you got on you and is it enough we'll let you off easy?"
"I- I ain't got nothing! I-"
Another snap of cold, icy cold, fingers, and he was rotated around until he was being held upside down. "Could've made this easier on yourself. Shake it, baby."
Just like that, he was literally shaken down, violently so, until a few coins of the usual small denominations one would find in the area tumbled from his clothes. A few calls and phrases were heard by those unwieldy lingering nearby, their wise prescience in getting out of the way having them congratulate themselves.
"Stop hitting yourself!" Smack! "Stop hitting yourself!" Smack! "Stop hitting yourself!" Smack! "Stop hitting yourself!" Smack!
Good times were had.
"So it's the real thing, huh?"
"No doubt about it. Completely authentic."
"Amazing… Where'd you get this bottle?"
Showing off your kitty booze was enough to open all the doors, as the cat girl trio was all too eager to take you in the back (not literally as of yet, sadly) and look into it. You should've expected as much- it is legitimate kitty booze, after all.
They took turns sniffing the cork, keeping it closed without opening it or anything of course, then held it up against the light to observe the viscosity of the fluid inside the bottle, finally holding some kind of weird magical scanner over it to be sure. Apparently, this stuff is a really big deal, from how they're fussing over it.
"Normally, non-cats aren't given the good stuff… You know, they don't really deal well with it, they get all sick and everything," Kat explains, gesturing for the bottle on the table. "Did you find it somewhere?"
"Muh. Got as a gift after drinking. Tasty."
Three pairs of eyes look at you, exchanging glances between each other.
"... Hey Jackie, quick question," Crimson says, holding up a finger. "Are you actually a cat?"
"Mmmh? … Muh." You consider your answer for a moment before you decide that, ultimately, there's no point in lying. "'m a girl. Just like a cat. Kind of a cat."
You nod, satisfied.
"Cat goddess certified, too. Made me drunk and gave me lots of pats."
"Hmm…" Brows furrowed, one of the sexy cat girls, Kat again, gives you a considering look, one you shall allow because she's pretty. "Hey, you really liked the booze, right?"
"Muh, muh." You nod twice, then thrice for emphasis.
"We can get some more, though not all of it is as high-quality like this, but when it comes to booze it's better to have too much than too little, right? Of course we're going to charge you, but a silver a bottle is a really good price, because we like you."
"Muh…" You dunno, you aren't exactly swimming in silver coins either… Even though you totally should be allowed to do that. The world's just bullying you by not giving you infinite money.
This is where Mimi pipes up, the blonde cat girl posing with one hand on her waist as her Chinese-style dress strains to constrain her sizable bust. "Ooor we could come to another arrangement… You know, kitty boozes invigorates its drinker if they're a cat!"
"And that makes ingredients just that much better," Kat nods along, smiling at you. It's a very cat-ish smile. "We could just share some with you, as long as you do us a favor in exchange and donate a lot of 'sauce' afterwards?"
Crimson holds up a hand at this, leaning forwards to look at the other two. "Hey, wait a second, isn't she a minor? I don't think we should give her anything with alcohol-"
"Is fine. I regenerate." You puff out your chest, crossing your arms in smug superiority at your ability to just drink as much as you want. "Drink you under the table."
"You hear that~? Crimson just volunteered to extract the good stuff~!" Mimi grins, nudging Kat in the side. "How reliable~!"
"Wait, what?"
"Oh my, how nice of you, Crimson. I don't know how we'd operate without your help…"
Muh. Amusing byplay, but you aren't getting drunk yet, so it could be better.
"Oh yes, if we do agree to do this, it will be a lot more formal of a deal," Kat continues to point out. "So you won't get out of the basement until we're done with you, you hear?"
Why do you suddenly get a bad premonition about this? Like, you'd still totally do it, but your feline instincts tell you to stay away from whatever basement they have here…
Kitty Booze Effects Discovered
Kitty Booze: Alcoholic drink made for cats. When consumed, grants one additional dice to the next three rolls made for the rest of the day. May also cause cat-related transformations if not already present. Note, causes violent nausea in non-cat-lifeforms.
Yeah, let's not. They may be fellow cats, but that's precisely how you know better than to go into their basement. Just look at your own place and how your basement turned out for reasons why.
As you are what a cat is, whatever is happening down there is probably bad for everyone else. Simple logic, but you think it's likely.
So you know what to do, pretty much. Darting towards Crimson, you hide behind her, using her as a human (cat?) shield. "Scary…"
"S-see? You're scaring her!" The red-haired cat girl puts herself between you and her friends. "Don't come on so strong, okay?"
"Ah~, so you would've wanted to do it if she wasn't frightened off?" Mimi grins at her.
"Muh! Am not scared. Just no basements."
There's an important difference there, one that you feel deserves to be properly mentioned and honored as what it is. It is a matter of your wisdom and experience prevailing over what is obviously a trap, not just you being scared you may be chained to a bed and fucking Crimson for weeks straight instead of also looting more stuff while you fuck various other things as well!
It would be such a missed opportunity… And opportunity costs are some of the few things you still can't help but actually have to pay, at least until you find a way to just do anything and everything at once.
How deplorable of the time-space-continuum to deprive you of your rightful ability to be omnipresent. You are deeply disappointed in it.
"Ara ara~, can't be helped then," Mimi says, fanning herself. Kat, though, just looks at her.
"Cut it out, you aren't milf-y enough to make it work. But yeah, guess we won't get to see Crimson making a fool out of herself being used as a cocksleeve for hours on end?"
Kuh-! That's exactly what you would've wanted to do, but you shan't trust those vile temptations that totally promise your favored outcome here!
"Muh," you complain. "Crimson. Much nicer."
"Guh!" Mimi clutches at her left tit. Oh, probably meant to be her heart? "Unexpectedly cute, ain't she?"
You hide your face behind the redhead, tugging at her dress. Then you look up at her. "Want to play without them?"
"Urgh… Hey Kat, can I clock out a bit early today? We're having a break anyway, aren't we?"
"Hmm, I don't know…" You blaze your cute itty bitty kitty eyes at her, the strength of your sheer will alone to topple mountains under the weight of your manliness and handsome charm.
How could anyone or anything ever possibly resist it?
"Muh, muh, muuuh." You make little sounds as you walk, happy at having successfully employed your masculine wiles to persuade the other cat girls that it would be okay to leave you and Crimson alone for a bit.
Sure, they demanded to pinch your cheeks and pat your head in exchange, but that was a small price to pay in exchange for what you were after. And who could begrudge them something like this, anyways- anyone would want to touch your rugged, handsome self in order to satisfy their natural cravings for your noble form upon so much as seeing it.
Truly, you are sinfully attractive.
Why, they even did go ahead and gift you a bottle of kitty booze anyways, despite you not agreeing to what was probably an extended stay in some BDSM dungeon. Looks like you should try your hand at haggling about things more often, maybe you could make a fortune by visiting a marketplace or two?
Ah well, not like it matters right now. Right now, all that matters is that you have to corner Crimson and-
Up the stairs and in what seems to be an entirely different place than downstairs, as the windows show you a wholly separate view of what is probably still the Overcity, a calm night sky filled with glittering stars towering over skyscrapers and empty streets, the redhead cat girl opens a door, letting you see what some may call 'paradise' right behind it.
Veiled in a warm glow light coming from somewhere you can't see, the ground is covered with collectible cards of different kinds scattered everywhere and large plushies, at least two of which you recognize on first glance from the Finale Fantasia game franchise. Anywhere you look, collectibles and figurines are sloppily sorted into large shelves reaching all the way to the ceiling, with books and manga also taking up space here and there.
In the middle of the wall right in front of you as you enter, a massive gaming setup is awaiting the return of its owner, consoles and a computer below an otherwise normal desk and two screens set upon in, a bunch of cords connecting everything together. A large, colorful chair, bearing its own headrest and holding a couple pillows at least one of which is anime meat shaped, completes everything sublimely, even though its armrests have been pulled back and out of the way (as opposed to having them stand ready to rest arms upon).
While you were busy staring in mild awe at this display of utter gaming spirit, Crimson went and changed her clothes, going from the Chinese dress to much more comfortable-looking shorts and a tank top. Her feet, on the other hand, are wearing fluffy indoor shoes shaped after what is probably some sort of monster, and they look overwhelmingly comfy.
"So, uh, see you found my gaming stuff?" She throws herself onto the chair, shoving a pink controller that was left on it to the side where it teeters on the edge between her leg and falling to the floor. "I watch gaming teams sometimes, that's what the background is about. Wanna play something together? Just be careful about the Buster Sword."
Yep. This is, in a word, heaven.
Crimson's lap is soft and cushy, her thighs like pillows that bear you aloft in themselves. Sitting with your head poking between her breasts, you feel as though this girl was made specifically to let you sit on her lap and let you hear the rumble of her chest as she purrs too quietly for you to hear.
It is insanely nice to be in this position. Seriously. You easily maintain a manly, stoic face at all times, but you are very close to letting the corners of your mouth pull into a smile, closer than you have ever been, that's how comfortable this is.
"Haah… Sho cwute…" Crimson's slender finger are poking at your cheeks, but you refuse to bite at them to catch a nibble in retaliation! You refuse! "And your butt feels so soft, too…"
Blasphemy. Your butt is not soft, it is hard as stone from all the massive musculature stored within it!
Regardless of this brazen act of heresy, though, you soon find yourself suckered into the very purpose of this room, nay, this building, or perhaps even this entire world! That is, using the black backup controller, you play a few of Crimson's games, drawn from a different pool of genres than what you usually go for.
Diabolos III in particular is the first one among them that has her join in as well instead of just continuing to mush up your face or touch your legs, both of your characters running around inside the game laying down unimaginable hurt on anything and everything that moves, powerful spells ripping through the hordes of enemies the game gives you to play with.
It's pretty nice. There's a lot of wildly varied destruction you can cause, burning stuff, freezing stuff, disintegrating stuff… The normal things you do inside games like these, but the controls go off smoothly and it's fun enough to do a lot of.
Of course, you have to make sure your superiority is acknowledged and respected, and after you once again wipe out a group of monsters, you nod. Smugly. "Muh. I win."
"Pretty sure this is a co-op game, so I'd say we win," Crimson disagrees, but you are not fooled- she is just trying to distract you from the point.
"Muh. Killed more. Reward." Your feet are dangling between hers as you tilt your head backwards to give her a demanding look. "Mih muh."
"... Jackie, what is that stuff you were drinking since earlier? Is it booze?"
"Muh." You casually raise the bottle the other cat girls gave you, pouring some of it into her gaming cup, the same one she's been drinking out of all along. "Booze party. Go."
"That explains why the screen's been so wobbly," Crimson mutters, lifting her cup and emptying it in a few big gulps. "Pwaah… Awright, you wanna reward?"
She sure went from 'tipsy' to 'noticeably drunk' quickly there. Then again, it's kitty booze; it never actually pushes you that far until you want it to. Or some outside force thinks it would be funny, or you get so drunk on it you think it's a good idea…
Stuff's convenient like that.
"Muh." You look down as Crimson's hand pulls your skirt back, then pushes your panties down, your half-hard cock now subjected to her tender mercies; she grabs it, stroking you to hardness with all the enthusiasm you expect of your loyal subjects.
Which includes any and all beings in existence, by the way. Most are simply woefully unprepared to do their utmost to fulfill their duty to cater to your every whim.
You sit there, on her lap, letting her stroke you off with a small, entirely unnoticeable smile on your face, nevermind the drool you are noticing on your chin; Crimson may be against child exploitation, but she's damn good at what she's doing, her slender, cute hands wrangling and wringing your cock awesomely.
She's going from your tip down around half your length, keeping up just enough pressure to let you know a cute girl is at work with your dick, then back up, rubbing her thumb around your head and, after you may or may not have garbled some not-words as she did, repeatedly focus on the underside of your head, making you tremble and grown in a mixture of frustration and lust.
"Hah! This one was all me!" The intoxicated cat girl grins, bringing your attention back around to what is going on in the game. "Score! Now you gotta eat me out!"
… You aren't sure that's how it works. On the other hand… As long as you kill more stuff than her, you may get to pound them kitty-cakes. A plan is forming inside your head even as you tug at her shorts.
As one would expect, of course, the events playing out within Crimon's room were well within the calculated expectations of certain other inhabitants of the house. Specifically, both Kat and Mimi were watching along, using the spycams they had inserted into their friend's place ages ago.
"Look at 'em go," Mimi commented, eyes fixed on where she could clearly see Crimson slurping all over the little seed dispenser's shaft. "She got 'er drunk and ready to rumble in record time."
"Please, it's Crimson," Kat, the (at least technically) leader of the trio rolled her eyes. "Not like it takes much with her."
It was true that the two of them often pushed their friend into lewd situations, but say what you want, Crimson may complain and cry about it endlessly, but she absolutely enjoyed being stuffed into an unmanned gloryhole booth for a few hours, offered for free use to random strangers or just spontaneously whore her out to anyone with a huge dick to their name.
Not like she ever actually offered any real resistance, though she did get wetter than a public fountain all the time wherever it happened. Really, she should thank them for helping her get what she wanted.
This way, Crimson got fucked stupid on the regular, Kat and Mimi got to watch and make some pocket money on the side and, in this case, the redhead's true destiny (that of a complete slut) even got to help them produce some nice ingredients!
Once they pumped her stomach, anyways. And speaking of…
"Ooh, now we're talking! Right in the cushions!"
As Mimi had put it, the Magical Girl that they'd given the good kitty booze to was currently busy burying her sizable cock inside Crimson's asshole, bending the other cat girl over her own 'gaming chair'. Their cameras were getting them a perfect shot of how she was screaming with pleasure, her tongue hanging out and her mouth twisted into a big, fat grin.
That was always Kat's favorite part. The way she totally loved it, despite anything else she said. The happy degradation, the joyful reduction of Crimson into a cock receptacle and nothing more…
"Muh muh muh muh muh! Gonna knot your ass! This is my ass now! I claim it! My! Kitty! Girl! Assss!"
"That's the spirit, girl! Show that ass who's fucking it!" Mimi was giggling, already touching herself over her clothes. Crimson was shaking, her tits already loose from her shirt because it was rolling up around her collarbone, her shorts long since down near one of her feet dangling uselessly.
She was beautiful, as any cat girl was, her smooth, perfectly even skin long familiar to both of them, nearly as long as they'd known her. That didn't take any of the fun out of watching her get railed stupid like she deserved, though, so her cheeks being spread apart by some monstrous cock Jackie was packing for some reason was just one more bullet point on their list of things that looked good when done to their friend.
"We should have Jackie over more often," Kat decided when she spied the indistinct appearance of spiritual cat ears on the white-haired girl's head, fading into and out of her vision for a second or two at most. "Let's give her more liquor."
"Eeh, the kitty booze ain't cheap, yannooow?" Mimi really was letting her speech patterns go when she was horny. "Don't wanna run out, do we?"
"Please, we have a few hundred bottles in reserve," Kat waved her off. "And if it makes her cum better, it's a worthy investment… Even if the original plan failed."
Really, just a few days, a week or two at most, and she could've had the girl's cock producing some first-grade ingredients… And addicted her to their food to the point she would be slavishly happy to let herself be milked in exchange for some of it, but that was a perfectly fair trade, wasn't it?
Kat whistled innocently as, a few rooms over, Crimson was being railed face-first into the ground, her belly beginning to bulge with their first crop from this session.
You pant mightily, feeling the tight embrace of Crimson's asshole around your pulsing knot, and release the last twitching remnants of your latest peak, a few ropes of sticky white fluid added to be bulge inside of her belly.
You would say you're coloring her insides, but that train departed the station a while ago, somewhere around the tenth go you had at her butt. She's tight, and hot, and it feels unbearably good to fuck her, plus she's got the whole video games as a hardcore hobby thing going on, so you feel you kind of like her.
Which is why you put extra effort into fucking her. You can't stop before you're drained your balls dry inside of her, not with how she's clearly loving the Jackie Deluxe treatment.
"Muuuh!" A last, long thrust, your entire hard rod grinding into her cute ass, is all you have left in you nevertheless; you could keep on going, of course, but Crimson is pretty much done, with hearts in her eyes and little to no conscious actions she's taking anymore, so you should probably pull out… slowly, and only once your knot's deflated.
The last time you tried to pull you, she got a second wind from somewhere and bounced her butt all over your shaft again, and you aren't sure how much more of this you can take. In the sense that you had some plans for the rest of the day and it's getting a little late.
O-of course you aren't exhausted, you're Jackie. You could keep on going and satisfy the womenfolk (and effeminate manfolk for that matter) for days on end without breaking a sweat if you so desired. You simply choose not to, okay?!
Slowly, but surely putting your plan into practice, your wet, slimy cock comes loose bit by bit, Crimson's butthole only letting go very reluctantly indeed. She's leaking thick dollops of your cum, her big, cum-swollen belly proving just how much of it you deposited, and she's looking pretty dang sexy like this, literally bloated with your seed, asshole gaping after taking you up the knot, her peaceful ahegao'ing sleeping face…
But no, other stuff. That needs doing. Luckily, Elena can still keep herself occupied rampaging through the poor quarters, so you don't have any reason to hurry all that much, but you never know how long it takes to get things done at the library.
You leave Kitten's Cat Cafe fairy easily once Crimson is down for the count, quickly making your way over. The upwards-flowing lava is still doing as well as always at the entrance of Baphomet's Library, its color looking… healthy?
Look, you're Ice-Type, you have no idea how to judge this kind of thing.
Instead of loitering a bunch, you just go in, the heating inside the building itself as well-regulated as always. Now then, where to find-
"Oh my, if it isn't Jackie," a voice you know calls out to you, swiftly followed by a warm hand patting your head. You shall allow it. "Finally back, hm? I do hope you did your homework by now…"
"Muh, muh!" You gesture insistently, communicating all the learning you totally did since you last were in this place. You studied everything the magical ice grimoire outlined and took, adapted and then implemented a lot of the practical knowledge therein.
"I see," Baphomet nods, her turquoise, shoulder-length hair waving in the air as it parts around the pair of horns sticking out of her skull. You briefly wonder if she ever gets stuck on door frames with them and if that's the reason there aren't any doors as such inside the library proper, but then chase the thought away.
You have to focus here.
"However, you've been gone for such a long time already… I am sure you learned something more than what was written in that dusty old book, didn't you?" Baphomet's refreshing smile seems innocent, but you are not fooled. It's bad enough she's making you do work, you cannot trust a single thing about her, muhmpf!
… Yes, by the way, that is how that works. The more work you have to do for someone, the less trustworthy they are. Just look at Brian for definitive proof of this.
"Muh, went to Egypt. Very educational. Much learning." Mostly you just learned that desert goblins are a thing now apparently, Egyptian girls are hot and ancient tombs can and should always be plumbed for treasure. "Also the Vatican."
Lots of stuff you grabbed there. Or, uh, learned. Same difference. And you ate the Fruit of Knowledge of Good and Evil (still way too much of a mouthful, that), so that probably counts, too?
"That explains the scent of pedophilic hypocrisy, at least," Baphomet sighs, patting your head. You shall take this as a good sign and allow it. "You didn't eat anything weird there, did you?"
"... Pleading fifth," you say.
"Too bad, we're not technically in America right now. You must implicate yourself with everything you have now." Your eyes swim left and right as you try to figure out how to get out of this one. "Was it anything bad? Did you get infected by the bible-slingers?"
"No?" At least you don't think so. You just recovered some perspective for a bit before taking it back out behind the barn and making it stay there forever again.
"Good enough for our purposes, then," the sexy demon drawls, turning to walk deeper into the library whose walls are still made of anti-ice. "Come along, I'm sure you have something you would like to know, don't you?"
"Muh," you reply, following the swaying booty hidden under her short skirt. You aren't even listening anymore, you just focus on the perfectly shaped butt suddenly in front of you.
You find yourself sitting at a desk, a different one from last time… you think. Your memory is a little bit hazy, but you recall that one being set against a wall, whereas this one is in the middle of a wholly different room. Then again, maybe Baphomet just moved it.
You sit down, looking up to find the cute goat girl demon sitting opposite of yourself, despite her not having gone through the motion of sitting. Probably just her doing something wonky to reality to save herself the hassle- you know you would, if you could.
"Now then… How can Baphomet's library help you today?" She's smiling, but you can see the guile within, the cunningly hidden subterfuge. This is a demon that preys on those that think themselves clever, that seek forbidden knowledge and end up being tricked out of everything they have learned in the process.
Joke's on her, because you use reverse psychology, bitch! "Hot ice."
"Hot… Ice," she confirms, quirking an eyebrow.
"Muh." You nod, ignoring the way space warps around the bookshelves surrounding you. She's probably just sorting through them already to help you find what you need. "Cold fire is in stuff, so hot ice."
"Hmm… I see where you're coming from, then." Infinite possibilities open up, the total sum of something greater than what reality can handle being weighed, considered and then resorted faster than any mind could possibly process. In other words, something akin to your true power being manifested happens.
A book appears inside of Baphomet's hand as the moment passes, her fingers snapping shut around it.
"What you are asking for is possible… Though few bother with it. You see, the reversed temperature requires increased mana expenditures to be viable when conjuring ice, while adding very little true use to it; when considering combat, using up twice as much mana to do half as much damage as normal in the best of cases is hardly worth it, now is it?"
"Muh, don't care," you say, stretching out a hand. Yet, for some reason, you cannot reach the repository of knowledge held just out of your reach. "Wanna make warm showers in my castle."
You have plans. Ambitions. And a giant disney castle made entirely of ice continues to be part of them. You don't give a crap about mana inefficiency when you just need to build it once and then pick the whole structure up with your magic, to make it double magical.
"I see… Do keep in mind, however, that 'hot ice' will melt when exposed to low temperatures… As well as to high ones." Baphomet continues to hold the bounty just out of reach, smirking as you try to reach as far as you can. "Knowing this, are you sure you would like to learn more?"
You can just fix the stuff up with runes. You're very smort and have access to a cheat code for physics. "Muh!"
The demon chuckles, cruelly denying you your bounty forevermore. "I see. In this case… How shall you pay for this knowledge, I wonder? I could let you take this book, for a price of course, but as this is a library, I shall allow you to peruse it here for free. I may even be convinced to help you learn." She leans forwards, her threatening presence making you pull back in turn. "If. You are. A good girl."
"... Muh." Options. Choices. Muh.
This is how you end up sitting on Baphomet's let yet again, your soft cheeks (it is totally manly to have a soft butt when you relax it, shut up) squished against her even softer thighs. This time, however, something is different, for not only are you naked for it…
So is she.
This adds a wholly new dimension to the feeling of her hands on your body, as she's basically molesting you all over now, groping your breasts (voluptuous and perfectly formed as they are), squeezing your nipples, stroking your legs and tickling your sides as her fingers slide over them gently.
Simply put, you're a tad bit distracted. Which likely pays a role in why, as you make a show of comprehending what you are reading as Baphomet murmurs magical knowledge into your ears, you just zone out every now and then, especially when your boner starts to press against the underside of the table.
"What's this, performance issues?" The hot goat-y demon girl whispers, squeezing the base of your shaft right above your knot. "We can't have that now…"
"Muh," you protest, not at all breathlessly on account of all the teasing, "absorbing knowledge. Passively."
"Is that so?" You hear a wide, smirking smile right above your head, but your hands and eye are busy squeezing infernally formed perfect thighs below yourself. "Maybe we should make this a test sooner than I thought…"
You wordlessly conjure a chunk of room temperature ice ahead of yourself, letting it plonk on the table. "Simple," you say. "Still ice. Just warmer."
"... You're a downright little savant, aren't you? Even for a magical girl," Baphomet purrs. "That does call for a reward."
"Muh?" Her hand pulls your chin up and to the side, where she is already waiting; her soft lips meeting yours in a strangely intimate embrace. Her tongue, warm, HOT even, slips into your mouth, and her other questing hand is stroking your cock in slow, methodical motions. "Mnnh."
You almost run out of air, that's how long she kisses you. Even once she lets up, returning to lounging behind yourself where her round, full breasts are cushioning your perfect white hair and head, she just fondles your balls for a few long moments.
"You liked that? That's your first reward." Her voice is throaty, now, laden with warm honeyed promises and the mild spice of anticipation. "Continue like this, and there will be more."
"Muh." You may actually have to start trying at that. You like kissies, and the implied sexytimes are certainly tempting.
You really, really wanna bone Baphomet, in case that wasn't clear. Maybe make her put on some glasses, she'd look great with them.
New Ability/Spell Mod Learned
Hot Ice: Doubles mana cost of spell used. Halves all Cold damage dealt or debuffs caused in exchange for turning them into Heat damage or Heat-based effects. Causes created ice to melt into water based on both environmental warmth and cold it is subjected to.
In hindsight, making ice warm, or even 'hot', as less enlightened minds would call it, is actually very easy. All you have to do is make ice like you would normally do, which is cold, but then you reverse that, and so it's hot.
Simple. You don't know why that book Baphomet is making you read doesn't just say to do it like this.
That said, while you'd love to just say as much, you don't want her to stop stroking your cock, her perfectly warm and soft hands careful not to neglect your balls nor your pussy either, dipping a few fingers into it on occasion to slather your erection with fluid.
Learning with Baphomet in the driver's seat never ceases to amaze you. You are much learning. Such wow. And you mean that completely unironically, she's really, REALLY good at this.
"You can do it already. Good girl." A shudder runs down your back at the voice speaking right into your ear, an arm across your waist holding you in place so her breasts are rubbing against the back of your head. They are, as should be expected from a demon, SINfully soft. "Now show me how well you've learned before and if you can't combine lessons. Sit up."
Baphomet pat the desk, so you clamber onto it, the books nearby moving around on their own to give you some space. You have a hard time looking away not from the tits now right in front of you once you're done, but instead of the deep, turquoise eyes fixing your own in place, the smiling woman in control of the situation.
As long as you allow it. Which you shall. Purely out of magnanimous munificence, of course.
Her hands on your thighs, she spreads your legs apart with gentle, but insistent pressure, letting her view every part of the Jackie Package. Gaze trailing across your shoulders and chest, she takes her time looking you up and down before anything else, licking her lips as her fingertips trace your navel and go just a little further, deeper…
Your belly is making you feel weird things as she finally arrives at the good part, the same one she's been all over for a while now. "Mhm… Give me a penis, about body temperature, however big you like it," she decides. When you tilt your head, she smirks evilly. "Now, before I get my collection involved."
Thinking better than to fuck around and find out, you do as she says, creating a penis shaped of ice, modeled after your own. Maybe an inch or two smaller, but reality simply could not bear two Jackienator Cannons at the same time- it would simply break down with hearts in its eyes!
Snatching the object out of the air, Baphomet inspects it, holding it up against the air to check it for imperfections. "Hmm… Lifelike, but only superficially. About what could be expected, and a passing grade for you. For the moment."
With that, she lowers it to rest against her perfectly proportioned lips, a red tongue sliding forth from between them to taste the icy phallus' tip. As you watch, and she watches you back, she slathers it with her saliva, tongue crawling over the veiny surface you crafted out of thin air and judiciously applied mana.
In case your cock throbbing with the urge to get in on the action didn't say as much, you really want to replace the ice with living flesh. Sadly, the moment you try to move, pure invisible force materializes around your hips to nail you in place, keeping you right where she wants you.
"Now, now," Baphomet drawls, smiling up at you gently as she lowers the ice dick, "be a good girl and hold it in. All of it."
With that, she pushes the inadvertently created ice dildo against your delicate folds from below, your eyes wide as you realize what's about to happen. And just as you do, she truly begins to push, violently spreading them as she rams the entire thing up your cooch.
"Mh! M-muh!" It hurts a bit, but it also feels really, really good. Obviously, this is caused purely by the physiological reaction between your body and ice, as you are absorbing your element, and that's all that's happening. Nothing else.
Baphomet is stirring your pussy up now, her fingers securely holding onto the knotted end of your faux-dick as she thrusts it in in short, staccato-like bursts, leaning forward to let her gaze glint up at your face. "Such a cute little student, aren't you? You've really earned yourself a reward… And your poor teacher is getting just a tad thirsty, you know?"
Her mouth opens, slick tongue licking the underside of your painfully hard cock as she makes her way all the way to the top. Your sight is swimming, breathing suddenly becoming really hard and complicated, but she keeps on going, still filling up your manly Jackie-channel with your own ice dick and, finally, blessedly, wrapped her lips around the tip of your mighty mass cannon.
You could say you lasted for hours inside the swelteringly hot, tight suction now applied to your cock, but you would be doing a lie. One hand stirring your honeypot, the other jerking you off again when it isn't playing with your balls, you are fully aware you are putty in Baphomet's hands, her knowing look making the already rapidly approaching orgasm just that much more dreadful.
You hold back for as long as you can, softly mewling and sitting there with your legs spread wide, both hands caught behind your back. Still you give her what she wants, your magical girl cream quickly erupting from your sorcerous rod in thick, uncontrolled bursts, greedily sucked down the beautiful, demonic woman's throat.
It takes half a minute or so, but she swallows it all without breaking a sweat before she lets you hear her voice again. "That's one. Now give me another two toys, this one's already melting beyond usefulness."
The eyes literally glowing with the intensity of molten glass and the finger poking your butt leave little question as to why she wants two this time. "Muh…?"
"And while I reward you, I want you to recite the spell pathings for modifying a natural element's attributes," she grins wickedly, a jolting push of her finger letting you know your chastity is at danger. If you had any. "Do well, you get more reward. Fail, and I get to punish you instead…"
"M-muh…!"
You ca feel the unspoken words following that statement. Either way she gets what she wants. This may be the greatest challenge you have faced yet…!
EmperorLee uses a token to power up once again!
Cross of the Virgin Saint Mary: Melee Spears Damage (8), Ranged Spears Damage (10), Contact Fire (14), Grapple Fire (15), Ranged Spear Damage (14). Mass Fire (18), Melee Sweep Damage (7), Melee Sweep Crush (10), Reel In (10)
Ice Golem: Natural Weapons (15), Natural Weapons II (20), Ablative Armor (14), Ice Bullet (10), Ice Cannon (15), Mechanical Shifting (20)
Ice Champion: Learned Ice Champion (20), Ice Leadership (8), Autonomous Activity (10), Consume Comrade (10)
You end up doing much, much more of the learning than you would have thought before coming, mostly because Baphomet seems insatiable for making you cum whenever you prove you've learned something and you very much like coming a lot, so your goals kind of overlap and you do a lot of reading of the materials she gives you to rifle through while making you bend over the desk so she can violate your butt.
Well, not only your butt, but you're pretty sure you'd be walking bowlegged by the end of things if it weren't for your regeneration, one of the many privileges enjoyed by being The Jackie.
Letting your golem henchmen collect you, you swiftly direct them to the way back home. Man, you really are pooped after all of this stuff going on, you'll just have to leave looking through whatever Elena's managed to loot in terms of useful stuff for later.
Whatever. Not like the plot can move on without you, so you have time, even if some random mundanes might get munched by whatever creepy-crawlies are out and about around the Generic City. Being the main character of the world is nice like that.
You're kind of drained, hungry and thirsty, but you're sure Chucky can help you find some sustenance…
She was feeling drained, weak, and the beeping of the machines all around her was her only companion. There were needles in her arms, she knew, but she didn't even feel them anymore, and the light was so bright she just wanted to keep her eyes closed forever.
She used to feel hungry, but that had gone away a long time ago. She also used to have hair, which she missed a lot more, though she'd settle for any feeling other than mild pain at this point. It was better when the nurses came through and put new stuff in her sack, but like an eel or a stubborn stain, the pain always came back in her chest and in her joints.
She didn't always breathe right anymore, but there was a machine that did that for her now, too. She wasn't even sure what she was supposed to be doing anymore; most days she just slept and then stared in a daze, not eating, not even putting air into and out of herself anymore.
It kind of sucked, but the nurses were nice when she was awake for them and the doctors didn't bother her too much anymore. It could be worse!
… Mommy and daddy could still be there to be sad about her. They used to, but they'd stopped coming all the time, and it was probably better. It didn't feel fair- She was sick, she was feeling bad, why should they be sad about it?!
She laid back again, just feeling the machines whirring and beeping and doing stuff. Maybe she'd feel good enough to hold a book again later, then she could read something at least. Staying stuck inside her head with nothing but her thoughts for company sucked.
Then, she saw something moving. She was confused at first, thinking the swaying tail belonged to a pet someone had lost that wandered into her room, but then she heard a voice. It was strange, and more inside her head than outside. "Hello, is this room 404?"
"... Who are you?" She asked, mumbling into her breathing mask. But still being heard, for once.
A soft pressure from a light weight appeared on the hospital bed next to her. "My name's Kyubey and I'm from the Make-a-Wish foundation. How would you like to be healthy again?"
Your sleep, once you are back home and Elena has deposited you inside your mighty pillow fort bed, is calm and quiet, even 'muh's produced as you sleep the sleep of the righteous. Covered by the many blankets and assorted soft, fluffy objects you assembled for your bedding, you dream of many happy, fun things, many of which involve you riding sleighs for some reason.
You also wear a Santa hat, and a whole costume made of red cloth with white trimmings, in fact. You happily ride along the sky, born aloft by the power of Christmas cheer and your icy magic constructing a road out of snowflakes materializing at your leisure.
Just like this, you ride along, not giving out any presents and instead keeping them all to yourself. The only reason you are out and about is to show off how much stuff you have and how nobody else has any, which makes you extra happy about having it.
Then comes a weird part of your dream where you're racing some jolly old man also dressed as Santa Claus to the North Pole where you aim to perform a corporate takeover to monopolize gifts and drive up their prices all over the world, but you don't remember what happens next all that well.
All that counts, though, is that it's a good dream. You feel deeply content when you wake up, the lingering satisfaction glowing within your chest, which is both immensely manly and chiseled and extremely feminine, the size and appeal of your breasts alone enough to make women everywhere doubt their sexuality and become lesbians on sight.
There's only one thing that bothers you, though. Throughout the period between dreaming and waking up, that half-awake period of quantum uncertainty of whether the world is real or just imagined by yourself whole cloth, you keep on hearing a strange sound, too quiet to make out normally when you're out of bed and your thoughts so loud they drown it out.
It makes you think there might be termites or something, deep underneath your house, a persistent digging sound, or maybe hands and feet moving around within the walls. But that couldn't be, you have monsters inside the soil around your house specifically so anything that tries that gets eaten before it's your problem, after all.
As you gracefully stumble your way downstairs, not at all precariously close to completely losing your balance, you happen to find none other than Brian standing near the stairs down to the basement, seemingly frozen in place. However, as you have not yet used your magic on him (today), that can't be quite right.
Coming down the stairs, you glance over at the kitchen, but for once it seems like Chuckie isn't already making something for breakfast; she's probably outside, in other words, doing whatever she does to take care of the plants you asked her to deal with.
She's an early riser, a morning person, one of those people that can jump out of bed and be functional within thirty seconds. An aberration by any reasonable standard. What even are you if you don't need to take an hour or two every day to get something to drink, stare blankly at nothing in particular and slowly amass your metal capcaities until you feel like an actual person against first?!
But yes, without Chuckie and before Elena is up inside your head (she somehow manages to take even longer to properly wake up than you do), you're pretty much alone and undisturbed for the moment. "Muh."
In response to your casual greeting, innocent and entirely benevolent, as all your action are, Brian twitches, violently, his tail hitting the ground as he whirls around to face you. "… Chuhackie."
"Muh," you repeat, noting with great interest as he suppresses another twitch. Something must really be rustling his jimmies if he's like that already this early in the morning; normally, he just walks away whenever you really manage to get on his nerves to the point he might just be reduced to this state.
"… Chuh. The situation is under control. Do not enter the laboratory space until combat has ceased."
":.. Muh, made something you can't put back in the bottle again?" You feel the question is very much justified, given he did as a matter of fact create you, and look where that went.
"Chuh, don't give me that lip. If they reach the exit, who knows what chaos will occur as they flood all over the house?!"
"I don't, muh, I got no idea what 'they' are," you point out, quite reasonably so if you say so yourself. Brian has been keeping mum on whatever the things that apparently escaped containment inside his facilities actually are.
However, just as you do so, you realize you can hear something. A sound, one that vaguely reminds you of something you've heard not long before, echoing from the open door to the basement.
(Awareness Triggers, allowing you to hear this)
Voices. Many, many voices, dozens of them, all conjoined into an angelic, downright heavenly choir. They are quiet as of yet, but also entirely consistent in what they are saying, intoning the same word over and over again in a cacophony speaking over itself, yet united in the message it carries.
"Muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh…"
"… Muh," you say, finding this entirely sympathetic to your own agenda.
Clearly, Brian isn't actually going to be able to deal with whatever he created; it being similar to yourself to be aware of the Secrets of the Muh, it is far too powerful and, in all likelihood, enlightened, to be easily banished.
This means that, for all that you are a generous employer and have been willing to allow him many freedoms, he will soon be forced to just close up the basement and live inside your home instead.
This is bad for two reasons at once; one, you don't feel like dealing with your Puchuu science guy that closely day in and day out, two, your workshop and material storage are down there and you'll be damned if you let his incompetence make you clean up after yourself and find somewhere else to put all of that stuff.
You see only one expedient solution. As always when emergencies happen, the only one that can deal with them properly, without royally screwing up and just making the problem worse, is yourself. "Muh. I'll deal with it."
"Chuh, no!"
"Muh, yes!"
With that, you simply step over the beat-up plush cat masquerading as someone that thinks they can tell you no, taking no small amount of joy in ignoring the mild urge to forget what you were just doing in the back of your head.
"Chuh, curses! Foiled again!"
As shall forever be the fate of the foe of the Jackie.
You descend into the basement, its dark concrete walls bathed in dimmer light than usual, a silent alarm blaring as the lamps are rhythmically going brighter, then back to minimal normal light.
Sirens and red lights would've been too much to ask for, you suppose, and you do wonder whether Brian decided that in case of emergency having that kind of thing on would be more distraction than help or if he just didn't want to admit that he fucks up badly enough for the results to be worth that big of a reaction.
Either way, you navigate the area, having been in the higher floors often enough to have an idea of where you're going as you orient yourself towards the source of the Muhs. The familiar echo is hard to trace back, at first, as it keeps on resounding across nearly bare walls and around corners, but you are nothing if not a smortie.
And as such, you are more than ready to meet this challenge.
Triangulating the approximate location of the source, you move to confront it, being fairly sure it is moving into a particular direction. The closer you get to it, the louder the calls it lets out become, until Muh is all you can possibly hear, a continuous whisper repeated often enough to become all-encompassing.
"Muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh!"
There, finally, rounding a corner, you see it. A large mass of Jackie, clumsily moving as a single, cohesive horde, is spilling into and through the hallway. Their eyes are set in a wild, swiveling stare, their limbs not quite as mobile as they should be and their faces are collectively set into a near-mindless smile.
They are coming, each just a little different from the last. Some of their physiological differences are subtle, some less so, but they are united in one thing.
The Flood of the Jackie cometh. Woe be to any that stand in its way.
"Muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh!"
Yes. You know exactly what to do. Standing strong in the course of the oncoming storm, you spread your arms, sensing no recognition nor higher thought in the glassy, soulless eyes of the horde Muhing at you.
You face it with utter, stoic intent, deeply forcing your presence to bash against it as it proceeds. It is now or never. "Muh."
Like a wave of physical force, the word halts the oncoming tide, the crazed, less defined Jackies halting in a tumble of limbs and poor life decisions. They seem to be confused, their nattering halting to be replaced by a questioning version of itself.
"Muh?"
"Mu-muh?"
"Muh muh?"
"Muuuuh?"
You clear your throat. "Muh," you announce, deeply impressing upon them that while you are not quite one of them, they kind of are ones of you, and thus there is no reason for them to be so excited.
"Muh!"
"Muh muh!"
Apparently, these incomplete clones of yourself, inferior by virtue of the simple fact of your utter inimitability, have been rampaging in search of Brian, as they want to pester him into providing better accommodations and a government-mandated supply of chocolate and ice cream to them.
This, of course, is a cause you cannot help but deeply agree to. If any copies of you exist, inferior and incomplete as they may be, they at the very least deserve to be fed with lots of sweets and to sleep on a pile of blankets whenever they want.
Jackie solidarity! Jackies united! "Muh, muh!" The flag of rebellion shall be held high as you cast down the bourgeoisie and demand that your rights as magical girls and clones thereof are respected!
"Muh muh muh muhmuh muh muh muhmuh muh muh muhmuh muh muh muhmuh!"
Then, however, you remember that you are, in fact, not here to demand justice for the oppressed Jackie classes and actually just want them to be quiet and not make much trouble that filters all the way back to you. If they're a headache to Brian that's one thing, you fully support it, but you kind of do need this entire place to be at least minimally functional.
Hence you wave your hands up and down once, focusing their attention back on yourself. "Muh. Muh?"
"Muh muh muh muh muh muh muh muh."
According to the muhrmuhring voices now discussing your suggestion, the Jackies' Assimilated Compulsory Kriegsfront (war front, but in vaguely antiquated German to preserve the acronym) is open to the idea. As long as Brian provides them a monthly tribute of chocolates and pillows, they would be ready to simply obtain their own living arrangements and occasionally aid you in battle.
The latter part goes without saying, as you are the Jackie Prime, but you know from observing yourself that sometimes, you must be bribed into doing things even when you know you should be doing them anyways. It helps to generate your own motivation with promises of nice things, just saying, and you apply the same principle here.
The exact amount of vital supplies required for this remains to be discussed, but for the moment the mob of Jackies thinks it's a good deal. One of them, wearing a little golden crown, wiggles out of the mass of other clones, raising a thumbs up towards you despite the immediately visible level of overall aggression within her.
Probably just caused by a sugar deficiency. You know you get hangry sometimes yourself.
Incidentally, the crown seems to be the only criteria for being the leader. As soon as the copies of yourself calm down, it is thrown up into the air, subsequently juggled among the group until it lands back on the same Jackie who makes a Muh sound and points downwards.
Having received their instructions, the Jackies proceed to slam their hands, feet and heads into the ground underneath themselves, applying blunt force in great excess as to dent the material it is made of. A couple bones break, but it seems Brian managed to both copy your own regenerative powers and grant these clones invulnerability against pain, such that they are entirely uninhibited by it.
As a result, a wide hole slowly forms, being pressed into the metal Brian put all over the deeper parts of the basement, and wiring, plates of harder materials and various pieces of machinery are dug out as the Jackie Swarm works its way directly downwards.
Having discussed this just now, you are aware they will be continuing to dig deeper until they have secured their own Jackie Caves, to be filled with nothing but Jackie. A paradise in its own right.
Saluting the teeming mass of Jackie as it slowly, but surely disappears from sight, you have to hold back a tear at their brave defiance against all that is not-Jackie. That said, though…
"Muh. Mission complete."
Unbeknownst to the magical girl known as Jackie, full name Jacqueline Frost, the Puchuu in charge of her operations was watching everything that happened using the various cameras installed all over the base in many ways constructed despite the operational manual and company policy on these things.
Said Puchuu was also, in a twist of irony, imitating the creatures it had made to imitate the magical girl in question, slamming its head against the nearest wall in a hollow attempt at alleviating its immense annoyance and validate its existence. "How. Why. How. Why. Chuuuuh."
Sadly for it, however, its current body was entirely incapable of feeling pain just like its creations, again, and so there was little to no relief to be found in so doing. Still, it was at the very least capable of listening as its currently strongest, if also least reliable trump card, described the demands of 'The J.A.C.K'.
Nothing was worth this. Nothing.
Having successfully reinstated the proper order of things and told Brian to get his ass back into the basement where you don't need to see him too often, you reconvene back upstairs, not seeing much use in lingering near the hole left behind by the exit strategy of your clones' choice.
Instead, you are going over the pile of stuff Elena and her golem henchmen gathered up yesterday, as you totally remember happening while you were busy doing other stuff elsewhere. And hey, though they were active primarily inside the low-income areas you can do whatever you want inside of, assuming nobody actually strong happens to take exception at it, she did find some neat enough equipment.
Part of it was sourced from various vendors that seemed worth not just robbing, as it's kind of bad business to do that with people that might have the connections to be even mildly annoying- as any proper bully, you want to be stomping down on the little man, not to actually confront people, even if you would totally win out. Though, as for the other part…
Well, some of it was take from a couple individuals directly when it seemed to be useful, some was beaten out of anyone that mucked up and some was just grabbed from those vendors that did not, in fact, seem like they might potentially be doing jack shit. Dem's the breaks, more or less.
Looking at the minor magical items, you have a good couple rings and amulets meant to provide some manner of protection for their wearer, pretty much just weaker version of the protective amulets you have a habit of runing up yourself among them as well. They seem to be common enough, so really they fit the bill of what you wanted, considering you're planning to use this stuff to equip your B-Team.
So that, hopefully, they do not in fact burn your damn city down the next time you're gone for, like, half a week and some change. Yes, you're still kind of annoyed by that.
That said, there's also a few more… interesting pieces, set aside by Elena's careful hand, as she explains inside the back of your head while you go over it all.
For one, she managed to find a spool of thread that generates more thread when fed with mana. Not terribly impressive, as you understand it, as said thread is a strictly temporary existence that dissolves about an hour or so after it was created, but that's more than enough for combat purposes. Such as if one were a magical girl with some particularly narrow magical specialization and severely lacking in options in any fight where either punching or controlling a single enemy is not going to cut it.
Yes, you do mean Bubbles with that. Say what you want about her enthusiasm about any monsters she's got the hots for, she is actually fairly limited in combat options, something that easily accessible thread to be thrown out and controlled by her should hopefully alleviate.
Next off, you have… some kind of armband that belonged to some wacko that thought he was hot shit, literally, as he used it to add small blasts of fire to his punches.
Literally, that's it, he was barely above mundane levels, just a little stronger and faster at most. He thought he had what it took to face down your golem mooks with just that.
Suffice to say, his brave contribution to the cause has been noted and will henceforth be forgotten immediately. His stuff was taken after his unceremonious demise was conducted and his body subsequently dumped inside a side alley after he tried to fire punch one of your minions.
Arguably, Kerrie will have use for this thing; it has limited uses per day, but hopefully she should be able to enhance her sword slashes by activating them. If not, hey, it's an on-theme last-minute ace up her literal sleeve.
Speaking of being on theme, though, Elena really had to look hard to find something useful for Olivia, who as always continues to be an Olivia. You are barely even disappointed in her anymore, if anything being a disappointment is her natural state of being these days.
No matter how many times she simply magics away horrible scents, is surprisingly effective in close combat or pulls big combo moves, the puppy remains a puppy.
That said, Elena, who is the opposite of Olivia in this regard as in many others, has once again done her thing. A whistle, like one that you'd use to call your dog, except this one causes a strong wind to blow when blown, is also within your possession now.
Ordinarily only kind of a party trick, at most, or a way to keep a windmill turning or something, but in combination with Olivia's air magic, it should be pretty useful. Enhancing her spells, letting her move further when enhancing her mobility using her magic, that kind of thing.
The fact it also greatly fits the magical girl herself is the best use you can imagine for it, of course. You have to make sure your doggie knows her place and all that.
That said, you have been doing too much thinking and not enough breakfast-ing this morning. Where's Chuckie and her magical cooking powers when you need them?
"Oh, Jackie, you're up already? Were you waiting for me?"
"Muh." Your stomach performs a threat display to assert your dominance.
"Well that's a hungry grumble if I ever heard any! Lessee what we have on hand to fill us up a lil'."
Success. You smugly pat your belly.
"Muh."
As you are, by virtue of being yourself, omnipotent already, there is precious little you can learn through study, practice or training, since even if there was anything you could not do you could simply will yourself into being able to do it. All the same, your omnipotence is a result of hard work at being Jackie, rather than simply a byproduct of it.
So it's totally okay if you, sometimes, practice with your magic, the only truly worthwhile thing to get better at, entirely objectively. As you do now, under completely controlled circumstances.
"Muh, muh."
Yes, you are unable to pull yourself free after accidentally casting your spell meant to immobilize whatever you cast it on on yourself; thick strands of ice are connecting you to the floor and one wall around you, keeping you from budging.
"Muuuuuh!"
You could just make the ice reform away from you, but you refuse. You shall shatter it with your mighty, bulging muscles, as you are strong and mightyful indeed, and nothing in this world shall-
A creaking sound erupts, icy dust emerging as the shackles made of ice crumble away. "Muh?!"
Huh. You actually did it. Clearly, this spell is not strong enough yet if all it takes is a casual flex of your biceps to utterly destroy it like this, but it should do just well to imprison lesser beings than yourself, such as anything standing at under three meters.
You have spent long enough waffling about at home. You must set out to a wonderful journey through the world of Golem-Mon, to find the meaning of your life and experience the forging of bonds, the burn of pitched battle and the bittersweet sensation of seeing your rivals brought to their knees before you.
However, there is sadly no Golem-Mon professor confused about basic gender identity and awkwardly trying to be inclusive instead of just letting you play the damn game around, and so you shall never be able to do any of that. Thankfully, you don't really feel any need to, as you are already aware of the use of bonds (collars and chains are fun stuff on other people), the joys of pitched battle (if it's actually a battle, that's a bad thing, you don't want to fight you want to already be winning) and what to do when your rivals are defeated.
You stomp them into the ground properly, then you move on with your life. No need to make a massive drama out of everything.
It is with this spirit in mind that you are now observing a hospital near the university where you found a secret government facility once upon a time- the one that wasn't even technically what you came to find, back then- and, after some thought, coming to a conclusion.
This place is obviously 'sus', as Elena would put it.
I mean, look at it, there's a bunch of men in black suits standing near the front entrance and white, unmarked vans are moving in the back. They could just as well be screaming 'conspiracy fodder here'.
Well, they are, you assume, from the government. Them being some manner of incompetent was to be expected, of course.
That said, you're still floating up above the place itself, considering how to acquire entry. You could just break in the hard way of course, but the hospital itself is still running normally, so you doubt you'd get anywhere in the chaos that would follow.
Like, it would be more of a pain than strictly necessary, see? Also, you have in the past made good experiences with sneaking inside government facilities, may as well keep it up.
Clearly, you must draw on your wealth of experience and skill in these matters, as this isn't the first time you are infiltrating some government spooks' playground by far. In fact, as the hospital is still running normally, it should be even easier to pull this off.
You land your ice platform some way away from the place you are targeting right now before approaching it again, on street level this time, and you do so with swank and confidence.
You are, after all, wearing a full suit to disguise your identity as a magical girl, complete with a necktie and all. It's all a matter of looking like you belong; you could get into literally any place easily as long as the people in it just assume you aren't a intruder, after all.
Hence you walk right past the men in black stationed conspicuously around the entrance, and once inside you immediately steer towards the next set, giving them a nod as you push open a door that is, thankfully, unlocked. You don't want to use up your trump cards for these kinds of situations just yet.
Having avoided the busier parts of the actual public and civilian areas open to just anyone, you leave the sound of people babbling behind in exchange for eerily quiet hospital corridors, all sterile and while, the scent of disinfectants heavy in the air.
It's that characteristic hospital scent. They all smell like that, every time. If one didn't, that would be a surefire way to tell something was up, actually, something you'll have to keep in mind going forward.
While they didn't hang up any signs reading 'unethical government experimentation this way' anywhere, you still manage to proceed thanks to the few suited goons still hanging around in particular areas, one of which you even get to open a locked door for you by pretending to be an external agent sent in to reinforce the site as you move further into the building.
"Didn't give me any keys. You know how it is."
"Tell me about it. This whole thing was all hush-hush, but they still couldn't be bothered to give us a break room in here."
"Bosses. Muh."
You sure are glad you don't have to work a nine-to-five anymore. And no, Brian doesn't count as your boss, if anything you are his boss.
Most of the distance you cover doesn't hold anything of particular interest; just the usual stuff you'd expect to see inside a hospital, hallways, windows, the occasional wheelchair standing around near areas where patients would have normally needed one on occasion, that kind of stuff. However, as you gain more understanding of where you are going, you soon notice the presence of some magical signatures inside the walls around you, running through them like several cables.
You follow them, naturally, soon arriving at a staircase that leads you down into the basement, the higher floors disregarded entirely for the moment.
Counting the steps with little 'muh's, you soon come face to face with yet another door, having swindled your way past one last set of guards. You could have been a con artist in a past life, if you hadn't been so busy being a serial killer, you think.
The power inside the walls is almost palpable to your senses here, an oppressive, sinking thing, and the air tastes a little like static. All the same, you have a feeling like this is where you were meant to come, all signs from the guards you moved past to the bright hospital lights lighting up the hallway pointing toward one conclusion only.
Your rival is near. You can feel it. You must find him, take on his P*kemon and steal his stuff. There can be no other way.
Trying to open the door, you immediately hit upon an obstacle; it doesn't. Open, that is. Looking for some kind of lock, you find that this door in particular seems to be operate via intercom only, as a small apparatus is built into the otherwise featureless white wall next to it.
Suffice it to say, this is an issue. You have, so far, relied upon trickery and blending in with expectations to a perfect degree in order to overcome security, but it seems your opposition is wise to your tricks- a proper verification procedure beyond a particular point makes sense and also screws up the strategy you've been following so far.
You could maybe try to shift your voice in order to imitate a grown man's so as to trick whoever is on the other side of this thing? "Mu, mu, mumumuh~." No, your voice is too perfect and won't go deep enough. You need another way.
You eye the wall around the door, considering whether you could saw it out of there somehow, maybe using your golems, even- they're surprisingly handy for stuff like this. On the other hand, you may trigger an alarm, which is what you don't want to do quite yet.
The Ice-Type does not lend itself very well to subtlety, sadly. You do not have any spells that let you unlock things, so instead you have to get more creative; trying for the doorknob again, you give it a good-
Ah. It turns and lets you push the door. You were trying to pull it, which may explain the issue.
Having outwitted this most perfidious of mechanisms, you slowly push it open a crack, allowing you see and hear what lies beyond it. As well as to conclude that it was definitely soundproofed, because you would have heard things happening at this volume otherwise way ahead of time.
The buzzing of open electricity is everywhere, wired in from all over the large room you are looking at. Big, medical lamps are lighting up something that looks like a man in the middle of it all, but the familiar sight of mechanical augmentations all over his body put paid to that notion.
As with the last time you snuck up on the man, your P*kemon rival is communicating from elsewhere, using a speaker system to broadcast his words. "Muahahaha! The augmentation is successful! Truly it was worth it to have the hospital hire only the most attractive nurses!"
"Hrngh…!" The cyborg standing atop not one, but two smaller pedestals is twitching, lightning-like energy emissions escaping from several ports all over his body. Both his arms and legs are either wrapped in or replaced entirely with metal, massive, yet smooth plates and pieces that give him large claws and, on one arm, some kind of melee weapon welded onto himself in the form of several blades. "Rrargh!"
One of his eyes is covered by a mechanical sensor of some kind, most of his head except for the rest of his face also hidden by some kind of helmet, and his naked chest bears a big core bursting with even more blue energy. "What is it, Subject Beta?"
The cyborg's visible flesh is writhing with thick veins, his face twisted into an emotion you cannot quite describe. "I, must, fuck! And I have no dick!"
… There is a smooth plate in place of his genitals, it's true.
"You know as well as I do the accident took that. Was the BlueBall Energy calibrated incorrectly?"
Obviously enough, that's just shoddy engineering. How is this guy supposed to function without an exhaust port to avoid overloads with? Blue balls don't just go away on their own, after all!
Clearly, it is now or never. This Golem-Mon has been freshly created, with no modifications or level ups to make it stronger or give it improved moves over what its creation endowed it with; you may as well defeat it now while it's still weak.
At the same time, however, you still do need to ensure that your loot is not once again destroyed right in front of your face… Or behind your back anyways, you were getting right the hell out the moment the self-destruct mechanism of the last base you destroyed started counting down. Thus, in the interest of taking care of that just in case, you take a moment to concentrate.
"Muh! Loot Kittens! Assemble!" You wave your arms (in an exceedingly manly way, for the record) and conjure a bunch of your patented loot kittens, the small, feline ice golems tumbling about and looking up at you quizzically. "Find loot. Stuff that looks important."
Soft mewling informs you that your command has been understood and is currently being processed. And, just like that, they scatter in all directions, some of them walking right into the room whose door you just heroically overcame.
Inside, the conversation progressed while you were busy doing all of this, if you can call 'going in a circle' progress. "I keep telling you, you do not have any genitals and I will not create what you call a 'robo-dick'. I would not even know how!"
"I! Need! One! It's too much! I can't take it! It's exactly like the scream without a mouth shit!"
"You will just have to-" The man's accented voice stops cold as he seems to realize something. "What are these small things scurrying around biting into the cables? Quickly, you must-"
"Muh!" Having caught your best chance for a dramatic reveal, you jump through the door, posing with extra panache as you make yourself known (and buy extra time for your loot kittens to work). "It is I."
"Cheh! The enemy hostile creature has returned, without its creator this time! Clearly it has gone past testing phases and is now in active, autonomous use!"
"Muh." You resent that interpretation of events- if anything, you created Brian and just forgot about it, as you created the world as a whole and therefore him, if possibly indirectly.
Being a creator deity is a lot of hard work, especially if the world of your creation refuses to acknowledge your omniscience.
"Quickly, Hornbot Nine Thousand, engage the servitor before it creates lesser servitors to bog you down! You are stronger than them, but if it accrues a sufficient number, it will-"
You raise your hands imperiously, conjuring a wave of cold, hoarfrost covering nearby surfaces, and in a whirl of snowflakes and icy winds rising from the ground with sudden and increasing intensity, none other than Elena rises up, her slender golem body raising the sword and the knife that disappeared out of your handy storage box.
"Who was stronger than whom, exactly?" She asks, pointing the tips of both her weapons at the Golem-Mon she must now face in traditional single combat. "The Dickless Wonder isn't going to cut it, just to let you know."
"Argh! Ahh! The energy… It's overflowing…!"
"A-hah! It seems the BlueBall Energy is surging in response to the presence of the female form, after all. It is more a feature than a bug, I assure you!"
"Not gonna help you, buddy. Not gonna help at all."
Oh no, now Elena's excited. This will be a glorious slaughter.
The battle begins with Elena taking initiative, obviously having higher Speed than her opponent and using HM01, colloquially known as 'Cut'.
In other words, she rushes in, the seemingly delicate form she's in not at all bothered by the kind of damage sudden acceleration like hers should do, and swings her sword down in a large vertical swing, bringing it down in the rose-based state you found it in first, applying a deep cut despite the quick dodge to the side performed by the 'Hornbot 9000'.
Sadly, the vines immediately snaking around its limbs are summarily ignored, as it instead raises its left arm to ram its weapons at her, ripping them apart due to the simple strength it moves with. A lethal melee ensues, blows exchanged and parried on both sides as the combatants circle each other step by step, raw strength and manufactured materials somehow managing to hold off the storm of even stronger strikes executed by Elena.
Well, no, you know what she's doing. Elena is deliberately holding back to manipulate her prey, as she is wont to do, methodically fighting him into a corner before-
A swift strike with her favored knife pierces into the exposed flesh of the cyborg man's chest, plunging in deep and momentarily immobilizing him while its curse seeps into his mind.
"Ah… Arrhh! Monica! No!"
"What are you doing? Stop this! You are screwing up the programming of the visual matrix!"
"Oh, I'm about a screw up a lot more than that," Elena says, the sword in her other hand morphing into the holy variant as she speaks. Is she going to do it? "Take… this!"
With a bright, blinding glow, she slashes out, a beam of light shooting from the blade of the now golden and majestic weapon. It scythes straight through one arm and one leg of the nutless nutjob, a glorious arc of pure energy that carves a path through the ceiling and one wall before ending again.
"Noo! What are you doing?! I just bolted those limbs on him!"
His remaining hand stretching towards Elena's boobs, the cyborg himself groans quietly. "Ah… If only I could touch them… One last time…"
"In your fucking dreams, sucker." Morphing her longer weapon into the jade-like form you gained after killing that one forest spirit thingy once, its shape changing accordingly, she reaches back only to execute him with one last, powerful slash, sending the overly muscled man's head flying.
You bet he was the kind to do professional bodybuilding, actually. The one where people just look disgusting after a while because of the grotesque mass of muscles all over their bodies. Not that it really helps in daily life, such as when someone shoots you- you distinctly remember proving as much, once, back when you were Jack instead of Jackie.
Good old times. You should commit random murder again one of these days.
Of course while all of that was going on, you went and shuffled off to the side, elegantly scooching past some machinery towards a location two of your loot kittens have been pointing out to you by standing up on their hind feet to claw at it.
It's some kind of… huge pipe coming out of the wall, with an equally huge hose attached to it. "Muh. Good work. Looks important."
Using your gun-knives, you cut into the hose with only some (mild) difficulty, small muhs and sounds of exertion going unnoticed as you do so. However, just as some kind of blue fluid that quickly dissolves into misty wafts and seemingly ceases to exist afterwards on contact with air begins to leak from your efforts, more talking is had over the speakers.
"Within this laboratory, my creations are invincible! Stronger you may be, but nothing has the capacity for stubborn resistance against inevitable existence failure that frustrated reproductive urges do! Hornbot Nine Thouand, prepare for an injection of BlueBall Energy stat!"
"… Muh," you say, eyeing what seems to be the main line of the stuff providing whatever is harvested throughout the hospital to the machines surrounding you.
You think you still have the BlueBall Energy storage device you used up last time lying around somewhere, may as well fill it back up while you're at it.
"What?! Where is the pressure in the pipes going?! Did something get damaged down there? If there is a leak, I am going to be filtering the air for weeks before it is safe to handle again!"
Kazooie kazam, EmperorLee does it again! Token into powering up your magic, because you can always get an edge over whatever you're fighting.
Ice Armor: Efficiency Upgrade (22), Efficiency Upgrade (24), Armor Stack (14), Purge Damage (10), Purge Knockback (20)
Ice Champion: Consume Comrade (15), Frost Veil (15), Simple Cryokinesis (30), Ice Absorption (10), Ice Absorption (15), Ice Weapon Master (20)
Cryokinesis: Move More Ice (16), Move More Ice (18), Enhanced Creation Speed (15), Detailed Work (10)
Well, you could go and just completely shut down whatever your Golem-Mon rival is trying to do, but it seems more entertaining to just watch Elena completely dismantle his fighter from where you stand, after all.
That's what being a Golem-Mon trainer is all about. Watching the opposition be mowed down horribly, blood and gore optional. Not that you don't welcome it in this case; the guy it's coming from looked kinda disgusting even apart from where metal was welded onto him.
Like, nothing wrong with a bit of cyborg-ing it up, sure, but do people always have to look like chopped-up corpses someone put into a metal casket to parade them around? Brian's version of the concept at least has the excuse that they literally are chopped up and more dead than alive to begin with.
Note to self, tell Brian he's no better than the Ben Franklin guy. He'll know what you mean.
Anyways, the cyborg guy, the Hornbot 9000, is somehow still standing after being decapitated, a steady stream of lightning-blue energy flowing into it and steadily bursting out of its wounds, its movements mechanical and downright robotic as it attempts to enter phase two.
As though he was a Bl*dborne boss fight instead of the Golem-mon he obviously is.
Elena, of course, proceeds to methodically murder him anyways, hacking him up into pieces and using the enormous strength your nigh-infinite magical power and skill grant her to wedge her blades into his body, dismantling it piece by piece while contemptuously avoiding, redirecting or just straight-out smashing any attacks coming her way down.
She's just too strong. You have leveled her too high for this rival encounter, it seems, allowing you to just completely trivialize it. Which, failing having a whole team that just completely leverages the type advantages you can get (better known as Ice Typing your way to victory) is the way you prefer to play these kinds of games.
Just have a brutally overpowered starter and steamroll everything. It's not that hard.
"Ice Type, Ice Type," you chant quietly, showing your support and determination as Elena wins everything ever for you. This is how it should be; as the Jackie-Empress of Jackie-kind, you should simply be sitting back and watching as the world bends to your whims or, failing this, is bludgeoned into submission by your subordinates and summons.
Such is the third chant of the Sutra of the Muh. It is known.
"Meeh." One of your loot kittens rubs itself against your leg, so you focus on it for a moment, but what it tries to tell you is immediately obvious, as the speakers a certain mad scientist uses to communicate flare to life once again at this point.
"Buarh! What is this absurdly small and cold rodent?!" Blasphemy. "Get off! Get off my face! This is no way to treat a superior intellect! Activate detonators immediately! How did it get in here at all?!"
"Muh," you make in annoyance, already delving into the respective loot kitten's field of view, but sadly clawing into a panicking madman's face does not offer the greatest opportunity for you to figure out where he's hiding exactly. "This is a hospital."
"We will just blame the communists, we always do. Beside, the charges are not that large, so- What are you doing?!"
A plethora of the loot kittens you summoned for this occasion are approaching you, dragging a bunch of sparkly, shiny or otherwise seemingly valuable items with their little mouths. A few of them also have an aura of magic about them, though you do not have time to inspect them any closer for now.
"Muh. Good kitties," you declare, causing a small avalanche as they all come to receive their head pats for their good work. Such good kitties. You want to give them each a little kitty kiss on their heads.
… But how are you supposed to do that while also grabbing all the loot? Sometimes life's challenges are just impossible to overcome.
"Guarh! No! Do not take the Emotion Condenser! Those are expensive and time consuming to make!"
Exactly. The more this hurts him, the better- he failed to pay up with half of everything he owned last time, after all. Besides… "You'll just blow this up anyway."
"It is the principle of the matter, hostile golemoid!" Rude. And vaguely racist. "Mark my words, I shall take my reven- AAAAAH! Get out of my shirt, you little menace! Too cold!"
Good kitty.
Edward Van Kirchhausen was a highly invested and advanced magi-engineer even among those aware of this side of the world, a proud American citizen unable to stomach the ravages of foreign magical powers on US soil and, unsurprisingly for someone of his highly in-demand skills, a very, very busy man.
When it was not his experiments and advances in magical science being delayed due to issues in material delivery (supply chains were extremely hard to maintain when half the people involved had a tendency to spontaneously forget what they were meant to deliver where), it was problems with the subjects he had available or unexpected results of said experiments and advances causing things to explode, be set on fire, spontaneously vanish or more.
And, barring all these blockades to humanity's progress in deciphering real, true physics, there were regular instances of interference by other organizations working against the nation in an eternal crab race to maintain their own advantages, or else inhuman ones entirely making use of unwitting pawns in their efforts to keep humanity under their thumb.
Not to mention the advanced golems equipped with immense magical powers sent against him. Case in point, the one that had previously invaded with the usual hidden government bunker secretly built under the local university had, once again, decided to interfere with the creation of one of the superior magi-cybernetically enhanced operatives he was prototyping on behalf of national security.
It was to be expected. It seemed like whoever had been speaking through the sockpuppet he had seen during the last time it had come for him had their claws deep inside this area, only waiting for him to produce results before assaulting the hospital he had requested use of for this experiment.
"Note to self," he murmured inside his safety box, a barricaded administrative office on the other side of the hospital (for safety reasons, as was immediately obvious), "add more defense mechanisms next time I operate anywhere on the West Coast. Bluargh!"
The small, vaguely feline construct of what appeared to be living ice, obviously a great advancement in itself, jumped at him again, sapping his body heat and causing him to flail aimlessly instead of teleport away as he had been planning.
This thing was a nuisance. He might be developing a trauma at this rate- he was positively covered in scratches and his lab coat was in complete disarray!
"Get off me, you little menace!" Sadly for him, the faux-creature whose internal machinery he had yet to investigate had proven excessively slippery, evading any attempts at capturing it yet again as it scampered off his back. "And stay away!"
He really needed to take a break. Maybe even take a whole weekend off later, once he was done compiling his notes on the latest prototype; it may have been dismantled and the man inside very thoroughly eliminated, yes, but there had still been a brief bout of combat, generating data which the sensors would have gathered as intended.
Maybe the next version should be channeling another emotional energy; blue balls had proven to be too temperamental, too volatile, in his opinion, despite the otherwise steady results they had provided in testing.
At any rate, he had best-
The entire building shook violently, as though a massive explosion had gone off. This was strange; Engineer Van Kirchhausen should have over a minute of time left.
Almost involuntarily his eyes were drawn to the monitors that connected him to the laboratory he had been using, erected within the underside of the hospital at his request. Inside, more explosions rang out as the golem imitating a human being fired enormous icicles into the walls at random, destroying everything and causing the hospital as a whole to sink to the side a few degrees.
"Muh. Muh. Muh."
"Daddy," the creature made of living ice that had defeated the Hornbot Nine Thousand said, its mental capacities obviously insufficient as he had assumed beforehand considering the likely lack of a brain, "what are you trying to hit?"
"Bombs, muh. Can't blow up if I blow them up first."
"… I hate it, but this is likely correct," he murmured, quickly turning to activate the teleportation device. "Though… Perhaps I could-"
"MEOW. MEOW. MEOW. MEOW. MEOW." He had to hold his hands over his eyes, the volume of the sudden sound coming from within his control office deafening. "MEOW. MEOW. MEOW. MEOW. MEOW."
"Gaargh!" He could scarcely hear himself over this racket! "I am leaving! Nothing is worth this torture!"
Just like this, Edward Van Kirchhausen disappeared… For the time being, already hatching plans to return at a later date.
You fly away from the hospital smugly, as in, expressing your superiority over everyone and everything you found inside of it with every casual swerve of your ice platform above the random mundanes crowding around the area now.
For some reason. Honestly, the whole building is kind of tilted, probably as part of the self-destruction stuff you took out with your usual levels of pinpoint precision; it's probably dangerous to be around for someone that can't look any suddenly falling debris coming off of it in the eyes and say 'muh you'.
Ah well, it's their problem now, not yours. No, your problem is just how difficult it is to squeeze all of this machinery you stole, or rather liberated to be incorporated into the one true industrial apparatus that can be allowed to exist, that being yours.
If they will not accept your rule over them, they shall just have to deal with living like cave men. Once you have ascended to your proper societal station, to match your cosmological one, you shall swiftly instate this measure of complete destruction upon any that refuse to bow to your unmatched authority, yes!
Denying the unbelievers the advantages of warm showers and coffee machines shall be enough to drive them out of their holes in short order. Even if coffee is close to being a heretical substance, being as bitter as it is, you are aware nothing gets done in adult society without it, which is why it shall continue to be allowed at large.
The pathetic creatures crawling over the ground beneath your feet better appreciate this, or else you most definitely shall have to punish them for it.
Anyways, you bring a bunch of stuff home, but you have no idea how most of it actually works; in essence, you just tore whatever survived your careful, extremely precise and deliberate act of disarming whatever explosives were meant to blow everything up.
You'll need Brian to look at them and tell you what is usable and how. Still, you've done a really great job this evening, you have to say- you beat your P*kemon rival once again, as is only natural whenever you encounter one of those throughout any of the games, thwarted his plans to… turn people into neutered robots that would forever be unable to have sex or something so that everyone's an eternal virgin like himself and even saved a whole hospital's worth of civilians.
It's not quite the same as an orphanage on the Scale of Story-Relevant Innocence as far as those things go, you think, but still pretty far up there. Nearly the same level if there's a maternity ward of any notable size, maybe?
Ah well. You got the loot, that's all that really matters when you get down to it. All's well that ends well and all that.
Emotion Condenser: A device that allows emotional energy to be condensed into a form that may be stored in another appropriate device or directly used to fuel or enhance certain magical processes. Can also charge most mobile devices.
Once you're finally home, having had a loooong day at work and all, you first go off to unload your new loot in the underground areas of your home- sadly, it seems Brian is (mistakenly) prioritizing something other than doing what you want, busying himself with repairing and reinforcing your basement.
Silly him. As if the army of your clones would be so much as slightly inconvenienced by him putting some titanium alloys into the walls and floors he's constructed.
The power of the Muh is far too great to be stopped by any such thing.
Well, you just go on ahead and do other stuff instead; specifically, you go ahead and have some dinner, as it's already that late in the day. You send a couple golems out to throw the last of that fertilizer you obtained to entice Viridis into moving in once upon a time in with the rest of the stuff, having trickled it through into your yard over time to make sure your plants would grow properly, too, and you would have sent them to run a few other minor errands as well, if you hadn't been distracted a little.
And you were fully in the right to be distracted, as anyone would agree, by the events going on inside your kitchen around this time.
"Hey Jackie, we've been waiting for you!" Chuckie greets you, waving you over. There's a pleasant, thick scent wafting around the house and you take a few moments to really recognize where you know it from, but you immediately do realize that you are intimately familiar with it. "I harvested some potatoes today and Mirasol found a nifty little thingy in a house nearby, so we're making fries!"
Exactly right, it's the smell of fries being made! "Muh. Fries are great."
"Yup! I've been wanting to try out that deep fryer I found in the kitchen, so this has been a long time coming!" The brilliant smile of the heavily scarred girl is, in this moment, the perhaps brightest thing you have ever seen. And you've seen Moonmoon's tail. "C'mon, we didn't want to start without you, but we also saved up some of those chicken nuggets Miri liked a bunch."
"… Love you. Have my babies."
"Haha, it's just some food." She pats your head, mussing up your hair (which you shall allow while one of your eyes closes, as strands of hair try to tickle it). "Did you wash your hands when you came in?"
"Muh," you immediately lie, unwilling to waste any time when you could instead be eating delicious food. And flirting. "Babies."
"Silly Jackie, you've got enough on your plate with the titty cats and Miri, don't you? And I think the moth woman wanted to see you as well."
"… Muh." You really want to make Chuckie pant your name… But food… But Chuckie… But food…
Food is delicious, the fries and nuggets you end up making and sharing among the three of yourself, Chuckie and Mirasol coming out really, really well. All just crispy enough to be both crunchy and tasty, served with some ketchup and assorted soft drinks salvaged from the Overcity.
A meal for a king. Or an empress, rather, but you don't mind the formalities right now.
Dessert consists of chocolate chip cookies and some warm milk, both of which you consume with less speed than you usually would; Chuckie made a lot of food, having foreseen your hunger after a long day of work, obviously.
The glasses you're using are those really big ones, by the way, the ones that you have to hold in two hands to hold up and drink from. Such is your great thirst that not even this measure is enough to quell it!
Also, Chuckie wipes your mouth for you when you get milk all over it. You still want to give her your babies.
In other news, Mirasol is showing a bit of a belly, though it doesn't really slow her down in any way. This goes without saying, as she is both born from the majestic Rod of the Empress (yes, that's your dick) and impregnated by it.
If you were not supplied with too many fries to be bothered by it, you would be bothered by how much of the stuff she's eating. As is, though, you just insist she feeds you some to demonstrate your superiority.
You pout at her to spur her into obedience. It is very effective, even causing everyone present to produce sounds of great distress at the realization of their own insignificance in this universe full of Jackie!
Even so, you still get sleepy eventually, which sees you trying to go to sleep on the couch- only for Chuckie to insist on carrying you up to your room, in turn having you 'muh' at her in protest until you go there by yourself.
You would've let her, but you're kind of sure she'd insist on you making your bed if she saw the Fortress of Jackietude erected in the Loft of Superiority.
"Muhnyah…"
You fall asleep quickly and easily, Tabitha having already awaited you rolled up next to the gathering of lumps that are your stacked-up pillows. She yawns back at you, the two of you quickly rubbing your faces together only once before you drift off alraedy.
You were planning on doing a bunch of other stuff today, but… Nah, you don't feel like it. Jackie full and tired. Slep.
She was humming to herself, quietly enjoying the feeling of sun on her skin and the fresh, slightly pollen-laden air she could taste with every breath she took.
The sky was clear, only a few fluffy white clouds wandering over the sky, and Yoshikawa Mitsuko was after so very long not shut inside of a sterile hospital room.
Yes, the pollen made her nose itch and sneeze a little, but she didn't even care! That just proved that yes, she really was healthy again, able to just wander around outside under her own power whenever she so wished, rather than breaking down and falling to the floor at-
"Whoop!" Mitsuko steadied herself, having nearly broken out into a wide twirl that was nigh guaranteed to send her stumbling uncontrollably. She had the strength to walk again, not necessarily the coordination.
She may or may not have been getting acquainted with the floor every now and then these past few days. Still totally worth it.
A miraculous recovery, they'd called it. The doctors and nurses taking care of her had been completely baffled by her sudden revitalization, the girl a step or two from death suddenly the very picture of health before anyone knew, but as Kyubey had explained to her, magical happenings had ways to sort themselves out by themselves.
And then Mitsuko had to hold back a squeal, because she still wasn't used to the idea of magic being real. Magic! Real magic! And she was a Magical Girl! A girl that was also magical! How awesome was that?!
Sadly, she wasn't able to just conjure rainbows to accompany her every motion, not out of costume at least, but if she could she totally would have. It was amazingly fun and she loved playing with it.
There had been that one monster, too, but it hadn't lasted long, sadly. Its death had also been kind of disgusting, but if it was the price to be paid for her being herself again, Mitsuko was very gladly going to make creepy crawlies everywhere pay it, te~hee!
Ah, but she had to concentrate now. Shaking off her thoughts, the pinkette (which was the correct term for someone of her hair color, by the way, and anyone claiming otherwise was a liar) focused on what she was doing- after all, it wan't every day one attended a new school!
Her family had been worried and opposed her moving to America at first, but Kyubey had wanted it and provided her with everything she needed to convince them, so there she was now. New country, new school, new classmates, obviously!
"Nice to meet you everyone, my name is Mitsuko Yoshikawa," she said, reversing the order she was used to to fit with naming conventions in this part of the world. "I look forward to being here!"
She couldn't really help being excited, but that was very okay for her! After all… Well, everything was new and amazing for her after spending the last few years in a sterilized hospital room!
"Very good, now why don't you take the free seat next to Olivia for the time being?" The teacher suggested.
"Right on it," she said, beaming at the verdette that was staring at her blankly. "Nice to meet you, Olivia!"
She had to suppress the '-san' she was tempted to add as a matter of habit. It wouldn't do to be that kind of foreigner, though, so she kept the need to express politeness down.
"… Nice to meet you too? Uh, if you need anything, just say the word, okay?"
She looked friendly! Mitsuko was happy and determined to make the very best of her new friend's friendship and nodded at her, hands thrust at her waist.
Very good! Now all she needed to do was to wait for the end of classes before she could get back to Kyubey about why she'd been asked to come to this oddly Generic City…
You muhmble to yourself as you twirl a pen between your fingers, considering balancing it on your lips instead as you look at the piece of paper you've been writing on all morning.
Well, more like the last five minutes, but you just got done waking up, cuddling with Tabitha, conjuring new clothes onto yourself because you were too lazy to take the last set off manually and all that good stuff. Same difference, right?
You're trying to figure out a list of things you need to do, a to-do-list, as it were. Not that you can't just think on your feet and figure things out as you go like usual, but Chuckie isn't here to feed you so you may as well.
'Step 1: Impregnate reality
Step 2: Become God-Empress of Reality
Step 3: ???
Step 4: Profit'
A foolproof plan. Now all you need to do is to work out the specifics. For example, how tight is reality's asshole? Where can you fit 'knock up everyone' into this plan, and how will you handle the direly insufficient levels of Jackietamine in the broader population's nutrient intake?
You have ideas, but none of them are at any practical levels yet. Maybe you should-
"Muh, Chuckie."
"Hey Jackie, sleep well? Did you brush your teeth already?"
You wiggle in vague agreement, having done nothing of the sort. "Hot chocolate?"
"Mhm, I don't know… Too much chocolate isn't good for you, you know?" You pout in dissent. You have scientific evidence proving the opposite! "Also, not sure we even have all that much chocolate left."
"!" You make sounds of distress.
"Don't worry, I'll just go harvest our chocolate trees later, it won't be an issue for long." This is a matter of national security! Humanity's existence hangs in the balance!!! Aaaaah! "There there, I'll make you some chocolate cake today, how's that sound?"
"… Muh." You rub your head against Chuckie's belly. "Babies."
"Nope, it ain't that easy, girl! Now go ahead and take a seat, I'll see if I can't magic us up some breakfast."
You already gave Tabitha her kibbles, so you remain seated at the kitchen table, awaiting good news. Chuckie was the perhaps greatest thing that ever happened to this house. Muh.
"Muh. Muh muh."
It was hard work, making Brian stop fiddling with… whatever he was doing in the depths of your basement; you assume it has something to do with security he's installing due to the abundance of massive gun components and what you're pretty sure may be explosives he's somehow producing and moving around in large amounts down there, but you can't be sure.
Not like you stuck around for long. None of his pitifully inferior creations could ever possibly so much as mildly inhibit the might of The Jackie, anyways!
With your mobile knowledge dispenser in hand, you take a moment to identify the optimal place to continue an older investigation- it takes a little while for him to stop wiggling under your arm, but Brian eventually give up and accepts that the sooner you have what you want the sooner he can return to whatever inconsequential tasks he busies himself with.
He is physically weak, after all, and though he can create many powerful traps and minions to surround himself with, both of you are perfectly aware how any fight involving you being opposed by them would go.
Short and brutal, and very much not in his favor. And Brian's never been one to waste resources needlessly, not unless he gets personally invested.
"Muuuh." So yes, after he led you to a room where you could plug your phone, the same phone you took certain pictures with, into a computer to make said pictures show up on this big holographic display thingy.
It's all sci-fi looking. Very neat. You just have to wave away a few pictures of Tabitha to get only the ones relevant here to show up, though you do keep one as a background image while you work.
It's of her blinking at you slowly as she gets up from sleeping. Very cute. Cute kitty.
Now, as for the object of your investigation… Before leaving Egypt, you and the girls (you include Brian in this to make fun of him, yes) looted a bunch of stuff from that weird ancient temple you found, including some really old scrolls covered in Arabic writing and symbols completely divorced from it as well.
"Muh muh muh." You wanted to see if you couldn't make any use of the pictures you snapped, potentially even replicate some of the magical scrolls somehow… Which is why you are currently squeezing and squishing Brian as punishment for his failure of doing so.
"Chuh, I told you there's magic in the symbols and the writing itself. Seeing it in a picture doesn't help you do anything."
"Muh." As you have found out, Brian's body is pretty durable and not particularly solid, very much like the plush toy it looks like on first glance. As a result of this, you can press his head into a surprisingly small ball, as long as you can get a good grip on it despite his attempts at evading this. "What they do?"
"Puchuuh, judging by the writing and the style, some of these are meant to summon fiery spirits to fulfill the user's command, as was a common practice among oriental wizards and sorcerers a few centuries ago," Brian explains, lifting his tail to point out a few sections of highlighted text. "It's a way to command the elements by accessing ambient magic, in essence. Skilled practitioners could perform complicated operations with it, but the practice fell out of use due to its high skill requirements in particular compared to more modern schools of magic and classification thereof being brought from the west."
"Muh," you make, quietly reflecting that Brian's tendency to lecture on whenever his knowledge on something is a given is back again. "Can I do that?"
"No, chuh." Just like that, you have lost interest. "While this method of using magical power externally is not principally beyond you as a magical girl, chuuh, it is inefficient compared to your instinctual usage of direct magic the way you are used to. To begin with, this practice is rooted in the misapprehension of the presence of indistinguishable 'spirits', an anthropomorphization of what amounts to magical background radiation into something that may be commanded or bargained with. It works, but it is imprecise and costs more effort for the same effect."
"Muh." You really don't need that much detail on top, but keeping Brian's mouth covered doesn't make him stop talking.
"It is a shame, too, there are many highly interesting artefacts of this time period left behind and sorcerers specializing in this practice had some intriguing insights and breakthroughs in the field of summoning and utilizing actual spirits and demonic entities. Granted, to them there were little to no differences between the two, as they viewed them through a religious lense and consideredd all supernatural entities to be either subservient to their deity or rebelling against it, an interesting parallel to-"
"M. U. H." You have quite enough now. You need some chocolate to ward off this attempt to fill your head with knowledge.
"Chuuh, right, with the original scrolls on hand you could maybe try to imitate some of their methodology to cludge together something similar with runes, but it would have to be based on your natural magic to have any chance at working anyways."
Muh. Ice Type is the only type anyone needs anyway.
"As is, you may as well memorize the symbols so you can recognize them elsewhere? Some of this was fairly widespread magical script around the time the scrolls were made."
You have not come this far, made the sacrifices you've made (of others) and done the things you did (to others), in order to be forced to do homework again.
It was a horrible, mind-bending bore in school and it would be the same thing now. Let's just not.
You have a lot to do, contrary to appearances; you may seem like you are completely unruffled, immune to any amount of rufflement whatsoever in your infinite grace and unbreakable composure, but even you can get annoyed when you have a to-do-list longer than your dick to work off before dinner.
And you have a huge dick. Several witnesses can confirm it in great depth.
That said, some of your self-imposed tasks are more pleasant to deal with than others, and so you soon find yourself once again seeking out Brian, after you have left him so he may think himself safe from your righteous wrath and general Jackiness directed straight at him.
"Muh!" You exclaim, lifting him straight from where he was using his abominable plush toy paws to handle a welding machine and do whatever it is a Brian does when you have no need of him. "Brian."
"Chuuh, Jackie. We really need to have a talk about interrupting me while I wor-"
"Where's my stuff."
"Chuh, no idea what you-"
"Muuh." You promptly squeeze down on him, compressing his body down to what would be unhealthy degrees on anyone else. "Essence. While we were in Egypt. Where."
"Puchuh, I though you'd have forgotten all about that-"
You stare him square in the eyes, impassive face expressing your absolute, unyielding desire to receive what is yours. "We made a deal. You get a cut. I get a cut. My cut. Now."
"… Chuh, I will warn you production has still been slowing, if you remember."
"Don't care. Will fix that soon. Still owe me my cut. Do not fuck with me, Brian. You remember what happened the last time I decided you fucked with me too much."
Talking this much is a bit unusual for you, but you have a lot of complicated concepts to convey here. Also, you rarely get to legitimately pull this kind of thing on anyone- normally when you demand someone give something to you, you're just taking it, rather than legitimately being owed something.
"… There is no Vatican nearby for you to screw up my life with. I just got done cleaning up after your clones and doing the first batch of paperwork and damage declarations, chuh," Brian says, now fully invested in the conversation.
"Muh. Just need to be a big menace. A big big one," you point out. "Freeze over the eastern seaboard. Unleash spirit cats. Let the Muh spread over the internet as a memetic hazard."
"You would be hurting yourself more than me, chuh!"
"Muh, but I would hurt you," you say. "Think I wouldn't? Just out of spite?"
"Puchuh, take your damn essences and leave me alone." Brian refuses to call your bluff. How wise of him.
Now to see how long Elena and her goon squad need to gather enough weed for you to begin the next step of your plan…
Gained Vial of Magical Essence x5
Now then, your plan, as such, is fairly simple. As far as you know, the field of widespread demonic corruption magic that is affecting a good chunk of downtown (and generating precious magical power for your use in the form of magical essence) is slowly losing power because, at the end of the day, you took out its cause and just kind of started siphoning off its energy, which was more or less an intended effect of the process as you understand it.
Standard procedure when dealing with these kinds of things, you guess. Just make them decay and fizzle out over time all by themselves if it's the easiest option to do so. Of course you then did slow said natural decay down in the course of making use of the whole thing for your own ends, but that's entirely beside the point here.
Point being that you need to re-power the whole thing somehow to reinvigorate production. Now, you could try to mess around with demons, what with the whole field being a demonic thing to begin with, but that promises to be potentially dangerous and all kinds of annoying, especially as demons generally are untrustworthy and all that.
Instead, you have a different plan, as you already noted earlier, and the supplies you require have been pilfered off of a drug den that has recently experienced an unusually high mortality rate and low overall temperature, as it has been absolutely covered in ice from top to bottom.
How could such a thing ever happen. Your disbelief is great and real. Much shock and wow.
With a bunch of weed in tow now, you quickly make your way through your backyard, having a specific location in mind as you draw near it. It's becoming a little bit difficult to actually navigate the area, what with all the vegetation everywhere, but you have a good sense of direction and so after only getting lost twice you finally arrive.
Near the current residence of none other than Moonmoon. The hot cat spirit goddess thingy of none other than Intensity, the same way Viridis is of Growth.
See, you are a very smart cookie when you want to be. And so you know that if there's anyone that could possibly re-intensify the lust field downtown, it would be her- assuming you can get her to do it for you, anyways. Which is why you need the drugs, naturally.
"Muh," you announce yourself, knocking on a nearby tree- Moonmoon doesn't live inside a house so much as in a specially grown clearing surrounded by prismatically glowing trees and other plants, its roof a glittering canopy built on multicolored leaves or stars and stars made of leaves (you aren't quite sure which is which and it looks different every time you look).
Normally being this colorful would be nearly nauseating, but as you are bathed in the light streaming from her residence, all you can think about is that it's kind of nice. A little bit overbearing, but it fills you with vigor and a low-burning level of near-frantic urges to do… something.
Just do it. Doesn't matter what, as long as you're moving and thinking and acting and not standing still. The compulsion is mild, just pushing you to be active in some way, any way, but you resist it for the moment; you'll be very active soon enough.
"Oh, it's the little moeblob. Do anything fun lately? 'Cuz I'm booored." Slowly floating through the air, Moonmoon reacts to your presence, turning around and lazily bobbing up and down as she darts over to you. Once there, she starts to circle around you, twisting a little until she's perpendicular to the ground and still in motion and all.
"Muh," you nod. "Stole a pope hat from the pope. Banged a cute chick in Egypt."
"Luckyyyy. Also, nice. Pope hats are fun."
"Muh muh." You wholeheartedly agree. "I have weed and a place where everyone fucks. Want to go take a look?"
"Sure, count me in! But I wanna smoke ten joints at once, right now!"
It's a deal.
Assembling a group of grasswolves is as easy as just finding a few of them and telling them to come with you, though you do realize you can go a to further, hopefully finding yourself a way to resolve the issue you are having more thoroughly than just going there and having a bunch of your good doggies have sex.
Hence why you then also proceed to hit up Viridis herself, telling her you want to take them with you to go breed a bunch of people. She agrees easily, and a brief green glow overcomes yourself and your whole party, making your balls tickle a little.
Success, you think. Now all you need to do is to move this whole circus to the right place, plug Moonmoon into your lust field and have lots of sex. That sounds like child's play, especially considering you're going to be aiming for a nice park you sighted a couple times not too far from a certain school you have visited in the past, one which is liable to be filled with playing kids around this time of day.
Having plotted out the shortest route towards the general area you want to go to, you get right on with it, only stopping once on the way because you and Moonmoon concur on the need to obtain some ice cream which leads you to robbing a convenience store real quick, as is your wont.
Interestingly, it seems having, like, two to three dozen green wolves following you has people give you some space as you walk by. You enjoy the opportunity to demonstrate your superiority in an entirely passive way greatly, of course.
Finally, the lowly populace knows better than to stand in your path! You could always just fly to avoid coming into any contact with the common filth, of course, as you usually do, but this is a nice opportunity for a little change of pace,
The very air around you changes, however, as you enter the area which has been under your demonic lust zone's effects so far, your surroundings not so much changing as the people populating it are. The changes are, at first, gradual, no hard border between mundane normality and 'here there be sex'. Instead, you have an area with people shrugging clothes back on that have no reason not to be on them anymore, families regathering themselves after an 'unusually eventful' walk and things like that.
Then, as you move in deeper, you see more and more signs of the things you are here for, as long as you actually keep an eye out or them. Couples spontaneously forming and sneaking off deeper into the lust zone, not yet comfortable just jumping each other out in the open just yet, a few articles of clothing scattered here and there- one of your grasswolves sniffs and picks up a pair of striped panties with its snout, in fact.
Truly a worthy find. You scratch its neck. Gooood boy.
Anyways, you keep on going, soon coming upon the telltale sign of the real influence having taken hold in people you come across. Strangers making out in the open, families spontaneously performing some hands-on sex education, you even see a funny sight in a black girl being 'whited' by a bunch of men while her mother watches and masturbates.
Good stuff all around. Looking at this, it seems weird the whole zone has been losing power. Well, at least Moonmoon seems to be having fun running commentary, though you have to muh at a few of your wolves to keep them from wandering off.
Lewd doggies can't wait for when you get to the park. Which, then, makes it all that much more rewarding when you do just that, of course, because while it's not quite like herding cats, which is comparable to herding Jackies, it still has you pretty busy while you're on the move.
So, the park itself. It's not too sizeable, but not too small either, and it bears an extensive playground filled with swings and climbing frames and slides, these little water pumps and all that kind of thing, perfectly adequate to let younger kids play around with with or without supervision.
Not that this stops a few parents from being present anyways, keeping an eye on them from a few benches set around the area. The park's location near the school and a whole residential zone means that there's more than enough kids around, and so you don't have any worries about being short for the time being.
Naturally, this being deep inside the lust zone, the parents 'supervising' the kids are, if anything, doing the opposite; when they aren't hooking up with each other, mothers whose husbands are at work making out with fathers that have less of a time constraint on their day, they're instead getting busy with the kids, more than one guy sitting there with a boy girl kneeling between his legs bobbing their heads.
You also note that about a third of the adult women in sight are pregnant to differing degrees, their bellies somewhat swollen or jut bulging a little. Must be all the sex they're having, logically.
As you observe, a woman waves a girl closer, doing much the same as the other grown people around in shoving her face into her crotch. Interestingly, as it's a pretty warm day, most of the kids are either playing around entirely naked or only wearing their shoes, every inch of their bodies on full display as they play around.
Many of them are also fondling each other, many of their 'games' taking on a less innocent tone all over the place. It doesn't help, you think, that someone went and made a bunch of adjustments to the playground equipment as well; you don't think half the swings usually have dildos on their seats, just to name an obvious example, and several child-sized glory holes have been carved and carefully sanded out of the toy castle structure sitting around the middle of the sand pit.
Many of the people present of course look in your direction when a veritable flood of big, green doggies emerges into the park behind you, but you don't let that bother you. Instead, you simply clear your throat and wave. "Play nice."
They proceed to trot onward, curiously spreading around the playground and investigating the people therein. The kids pretty much all instantly like them, because they're good puppers, and the parents are too preoccupied having sex to do much of anything.
Mission success. Now to wait for them to start mating. And speaking of which…
You take another look around, watching for something. You'll know when you see it.
And see it you do. 'It', in this case, being a cute girl.
Around your own apparent age (you actually are an ancient being of great might and influence, after all, having been forced into being slightly less immensely manly than usual due to some unfortunate circumstances), her long, brunette hair frames a cute face that watches curiously as your doggies begin to lick any exposed flesh they can reach among the other kids.
You quickly decide that yeah, she'll do just fine. Approaching her right away before one of your grasswolves does, you imperiously clear your throat, making her pay attention to you. "Hello."
"H-hello," she shyly responds, fidgeting a little. "Do you know where all these dogs are coming from?"
"Muh," you nod proudly. "They're my doggies. Out on walkies."
"Oh. That's nice." She smiles cutely, looking around as the first of the girls and boys in the area start to get… frisky with them. Getting on all fours to lick and suckle on doggy cock, getting their own genitals slobbered by their dog-like tongues, that kind of thing. Both boys and girls seem to be curious about them. "I'm new here, so I don't know anyone yet."
"How new?" You ask, mildly curious about the specifics here.
"We just moved. Would you like to be my friend?"
As you talk, you've been busy wiggling out of your panties, but at the offer you finally manage to do just that, your half-hard cock flopping out from below your dress. "Mm, muh. Better idea. You lonely?"
"… A little," she admits, shrugging. However, for all that she's 'new' in the area, she doesn't wear any clothes still, and so you can imply and bluntly take a step forwards, poking her belly with your still hardening dick.
"I'll give you a baby," you decide, having found the obvious 'solution' to this 'problem'. As all real problems in life, it is resolved through the application of your dick to whichever hole is in reach, of course.
"R-really?" She asks. "Only mommies can have babies, though… And what are those dogs doing?"
You look over, confirming that, yes, the first of the nearby brats have started letting your grasswolves mount them, more than a few crying out as their tapered cocks are roughly shoved into their pussies (or assholes, they aren't picky). A few of the boys even chose not to be bred like little bitches, instead fumbling around trying to get their little dicks into the female wolves as well.
And a couple also try to fuck the male ones from behind while they're busy with someone else. How gay of them, not that sexual orientation persists in the lust zone of 'everyone fucks everyone anyways'.
"Making doggy babies," you say instead of explaining any of this in depth, slowly pushing against her shoulders to navigate her through the sand pit and to a clear spot near the water pumps. "Just like I'm gonna make babies with you."
When it's a bit moist, the sand isn't quite as prone to getting literally everywhere. It's the one issue you always had with beaches.
"Ouff!" Landing on her butt, the shy girl looks up at you as you follow her to the ground, pushing her upper body down a bit more before you spread her knees apart a bit. "Mm, I think this is a bit naughty…"
"Muh." 'Naughty' is one word for it, sure. Despite being relatively new to the lust zone's influence, this girl seems to be kind of a pervert already, the indeed perverse display of depravity between your loyal wolves and the kids formerly 'playing' around here turning her on.
Or perhaps she was just hot and ready to go already because she was watching everyone else get up to horny shenanigans earlier. Either way, her pussy is hairless and cute, but also already wet a little, at least minimal levels of lubrication already there.
Good enough for you. Pale skin shivers as your hands handle her thighs, pulling them a little wider apart yet, letting you see all of her unimpeded, from her slightly frizzled hair over her flat chest, only just starting to bulge out into femininity (contrary to your own massive mammaries, of course) down to her flat belly, baby fat just barely visible along her body.
And, of course, her precious little pussy, the angle of her legs making it gape just a little bit, delicate pink folds visible under your gaze.
She fidgets again, holding her balled hands up to her face to hide it now. "It's embarrassing…"
"Muh." Right, that's an issue. If she's conscious enough to be embarrassed, you aren't doing your job.
Angling your huge, inhuman penis against her entrance, you immediately begin to push, the sound of sex coming from all around you and only making you harder. She's too tight, of course, but that's nothing some constant, insistent pressure can't solve!
She whimpers, but you hold fast, steadily pushing forwards as the desire to breed grows stronger in yourself. It doesn't take too long, thankfully, your broad tip spreading her open just enough to slide into her, her tight and hot little honeypot making you groan with how good it feels.
"So big!" Her eyes are wide open, staring down at herself where your fat rod is slowly sliding into her now, her legs spread as wide as she can to let you in. "So big, it won't fit!"
"Muh." Where there's a will, there's a way, and you have plenty of will. Slowly thrusting back and forth, you ease yourself deeper into her, her overstretched love canal made to take you despite your size.
Human bodies are surprisingly flexible. Even your Heavenly Pillar can be hidden inside of one, and that's saying something.
You get yourself deeper and deeper inside of the cute girl you picked out, making her quiver and twitch with your every move. At the same time, she still does wrap her arms around you, clearly understanding what you are making her feel.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! So good! Feels so good!" Yes, that. Your cock is literally ribbed, in more than one pattern, to elicit this exact reaction. "AAAH!"
And that would be you hitting her womb successfully. "Gonna breed you and make you a mommy," you say, gearing up to thoroughly rut this clueless little cunt until she gets a preview of how it feels like to be pregnant, when-
When something wet and warm touches you from behind.
"Muh…?" Looking back, you see one of your grasswolves, throbbing cock hanging below it, sniffing at your butt. "Am busy."
Undeterred, the doggy proceeds to lower its snout, its tongue lapping all over your own pussy that you only now realize is precariously accessible with the angle you're stretching your hips to try and slam yourself home inside the girl underneath yourself. It feels tingly, and nice, but-
Your eyes go wide when he rears up, green-furred paws slamming on the ground next to you on both sides. "Muh! Stop!" Unfortunately, as you're still held close by your girl and stuck deep inside of her pussy, you can't move much, and so you can't really pull away or dodge when a big fat doggy dong comes closer-
And thrusts inside your own pussy, tapered tip effortlessly sliding inside you as the wolf growls happily. It's smaller than you are, but as your descendants none of the grasswolves are anywhere close to what you'd call 'small'…
In other words, you suddenly have to content with a big doggy dick thrusting inside yourself, which absolutely and totally doesn't have you gasping and squirming as you receive stimulation from both it and the tight, sweet little pussy currently milking your own cock. Indeed, its thrusts inside you do not at all have you thrust your hips in reaction to it- you simply choose this moment to begin fucking the girl under you of your own volition!
"Muh! Muh! Muh!" Nor are you in any way breathless as you grunt and moan in concert with your own fuckdoll, the sudden change of circumstances not at all stopping you from continuing to breed her. The three of you continue on just like this, though not for long. "Muh! No knot! Won't fit!"
Unfortunately, while you have the most will… Others also have some bits of it here and there. And so some thorough, insistent thrusting, large canine penis ramming itself inside you and hitting what few weak spots you have hard enough to make you fail to stop it, a huge, overgrown knot is soon threatening to pop inside of you.
Which is bad, of course. Really bad. "The doggy is very happy," the girl you're buried in remarks dreamily, just about as breathless as you are. "It's- aahn, so biiig! What's that?"
… That would be your own knot, currently pressing against her already overstretched lips after all the additional pressure from behind, your cock filling her out to completion all the way to the entrance of her womb. "… Muh," you finally decide, reckoning that if you are getting knotted, you won't be the only one. "Take it."
"AAAAH!"
"… Muuh."
"Woof."
Just like that, all three of you are connected by two knots, breeding apparatuses firmly held in place as copious amounts if cum begin to flow. Yours is fired right up against the girl' womb in thick, heavy spurts, five or eight of them or something, you don't even count as a steady stream of grasswolf jizz is pumped into your own pussy at the same time, the entire experience a little overwhelming and leaving you more than a little breathless.
Then you remember the green glow Viridis gave everyone before you left.
"… Muh. Totally gonna have another doggy baby," you realize.
"Haah… Haah… Can I… Have that too…?" The girl you promised to knock up asks, a sizable bump in her belly showing off just how much you just ejaculated inside o her, none of your cum able to escape while your knot is still holding (and it'll stay there for a while now, you ain't moving unless you have to).
And hey, you know what? "… If it gets born quickly." If she'll take care of it, you don't see why not. Not like this is your first time making more grasswolves the hard and dirty way, you don't really need any more than you already have. "Also, get off already. Heavy."
The grasswolf resting its weight on your back whines, staying right in place. Ugh, Viridis save you from overly affectionate and lazy fleabags like this.
Though she'd do the opposite in all likelihood, huh? Nevermind, prayer withdrawn.
Slowly trying to loosen the knot stuck in you, you look backwards, where you can see something that might be a little… problematic.
It seems the grasswolves have decided that it would be unfair for only a single one of them to have a go at yourself, as a literal line of them has formed in the meantime while you weren't looking.
"… Muh. If we do this, I demand I also get to fuck the humans."
Fair's fair, after all. And you doubt the girl currently babbling about puppies will last if you have to fuck everyone.
You burp, a small, cute sound instead of anything long and drawn-out. Even your manliness, it seems, has its limits in how far it will go to assert its boundless self.
You also are burping because you drank way too much canine-plant-hybrid cum, having had to ensure that they deplete as much libido as possible in as short a time as possible to keep yourself from being overwhelmed. That was totally the reason, as opposed to you getting a hang for sucking tapering dicks at top speed.
Oh, and you also needed to make sure the puppy growing in your belly received the appropriate nutrients, and where better to take those from than from other grasswolves?
Because yes, you are kind of pregnant after all of this. Not that it stopped any of your doggies, of course; even as your belly began to bulge, rounding out with new life instead of their cum (none of them can keep up with your capacity for breeding, after all), they kept on cramming their dicks inside you while you in turn buried yours inside the nearest human being- or the lady wolves, for that matter, some of which were very insistent on also getting a turn.
Honestly, you stopped caring about the difference a few dozen nuts in. Both inside yourself and pumped into others by you. You just wanted to knot and come and knot and come and keep on going ad infinitum at that point. Then again, even if you were particularly conscious about it, you'd have still pinned down the human boys to ram your cock into their asses as well anyways.
Boy butt is almost as fun as girl butt. The way they get confused when it feels good just adds to the joy of demonstrating your superiority by seeding them just as well as any girls that don't run fast enough.
Not that any of them do run from you. If anything, most of the girls inside the lust zone see your dick and are intrigued, curious about how it compares to those they are more used to by now. What a happy coincidence for them you provide in-depth experience on the subject whether you are asked to or not.
Muh. Everyone gets a tour of the Jackie Tower. Muh muh.
But yeah, you are pregnant with a grasswolf. Again. This time though you aren't inside your backyard garden, in Viridis' direct presence, and so it is taking a bit longer than you are used to to actually give birth.
At least you aren't the only one. Probably due to the magic Viridis shared with yourself and your horde of horny puppers, most of the girls that were playing and 'playing' around the playground you ended up visiting have little pregnant bumps on their freely exposed bellies by now, though none of them are anywhere as far along as yourself.
Obviously, even in this way you are standing above and beyond any others. As pregnant as only a true man could be. Muh.
But yes, after you had fun with most of the grasswolves and they've calmed down a little, you are finally free to just lie around a bit on a heap of sand that probably used to be a castle before you started a spontaneous public orgy, just quietly observing your surroundings and the trails of cum decorating the small humans running around happily, both all over their skin and in particular leaking from their privates; it has something oddly erotic to itself, so you just enjoy that.
Or, well, you would, if it weren't for the first girl you fucked quietly mumbling to herself as she gently pats your swollen belly. And you know what, you shall allow it as long as she's careful.
"Are you gonna give me a puppy soon?" She asks, watching you with big eyes. You adjust your position a little, spreading your legs so you have some more space to shift your belly into. What with your giant dick and all.
"Muh," you then nod, feeling your child moving a paw or something. "Won't be long. And you already got a baby on the way."
"Hehee~!" Laughing happily, the one girl on the playground that's more or less guaranteed to bear a human child rubs her own belly, barely noticeable in how its form shifted yet probably pregnant as well. "I'm really looking forward to it. If it's a girl, I'll call her Lulu and raise her into a good bitch for all the penises she can find!"
Witnessing the determination in her eyes a she raises a fist triumphantly, you can't help but ask the question. "If it's a boy?"
"Then I'll raise him into a good bitch for all the penises he can find!" Well, that's pretty consistent, at least. Gender equality and all that, you guess? "Unless he's born as hung as his other mommy, then he can breed everyone instead, starting with me. Oh, and the same goes for the puppy, too!"
"Muh." You nod, placidly happy with her concept of parenting already. It's more a 'her' issue than anything you will ever have to deal with, so- "Muh!"
Uh-oh. Your contractions have started. Except ever since you started feeding on a steady diet of Viridis' milk for a while, those are actually pleasurable instead of horrifically painful. There you go, the great manly man Jackie, dodging all the worst parts of being a girl!
"Oh, is it starting?" The girl clambers towards your feet, lifting your balls up to see your pussy (that's still leaking a bit of grasswolf cum despite your best efforts). "Can I watch?"
Rather than wait for an answer, she opens her mouth wide, latching onto the tip of your now stone-hard dick to suckle and lick on it while she massages your balls. You all but immediately come into her mouth, pumping more of your inexhaustible stores of Jackie Juice down her throat.
How sneaky. That was supposed to be for everyone, but you suppose you can let her drink some extra. Not like you'll be moving much for a while- giving birth always makes you cum like crazy.
Speaking of… Time to push as hard as you can while your brain is reduced to firing off endless fireworks until you're done. Giving birth is serious business.
While all of this is going on, and indeed for a bit longer afterwards as you take a while to get yourself together again, Moonmoon has been sitting inside the place you have (secretly) dubbed the 'control room', the location from which the magical inhibition removal lust zone is both maintained and manipulated by way of the device Brian built.
Indeed, it is the random apartment you found a certain possessed slut inside of, possessing anal demon included.
… You quickly chase away the thoughts about demons possessing people through the ass. It's probably a thing, but then everything is a thing somewhere, so who cares?
While here, you set her up with three things to keep her entertained and use her passively emanating power to properly recharge the entirety of your lust field. One, you lent her your phone, which has an internet connection. This, by itself, would be enough for most sapient beings to be inundated with information and blinking light,but you went two steps further on top!
Secondly, you actually secretly had one of your golems set up a video camera streaming to your phone live, giving Moonmoon a direct view of your activities as they proceeded. More or less, anyways- a chunk of ice can only climb so high into a tree before its own weight becomes an invariable problem.
And thirdly, you gave her a whole bag of catnip, in addition to the weed Elena grabbed before you embarked upon this exhibition… Expedition, you mean. That. Very much that.
The end result is that you have a happily giggling Moonmoon pointing at you as you come back into the empty apartment (you made sure Brian ensures that it is kept empty, of course), babbling something about you being a literal bitch and further insinuations that have nothing to do with the truth.
You check on the control device, looking into the rate of accumulation of your magical essence. It's actually higher than it was when this thing was first made, so… Mission success, you decide.
Now to just figure out a way to get both a completely stoned Moonmoon and your pack of grasswolves back to the Overcity in more or less one piece…
Getting this done- bringing everyone back without any stragglers getting lost on the way- is, predictably, a… delicate task, one that requires far more investiture of time and effort than it has any right to. Still, you are Jackie the Mightyful Empress, Undisputed Ruler of All That Is, and so such minor difficulties are summarily below you!
It also helps the grasswolves have sated their urges for the moment and are generally fairly calm and content to just follow you after you give in and feed all of them some dog food you rob from a convenience store on the way. The things you do for the sake of your subjects.
Especially when they whine at you pitifully, which is absolutely fruitless and has nothing to do with your decisions. Your heart, made from the coldest, darkest ice at the center of reality itself, is immune to melting! No meltage shall take place, you say!
"Muh."
By the time you arrive back home, you are tired, surrounded by happy doggies and dragging Moonmoon, who is half-asleep and still a menace to society at large, by which you mean yourself. You need a drink, or you would if you could stand alcohol anymore- way too bitter and yucky in general- so instead you'll settle for some chocolate and milk before bed.
Jackie tired. Jackie sleep. Tabitha also tired. Tabitha also coming to sleep. You nuzzle her neck, giving her a little kiss she returns by putting a paw on your head and rubbing her snout against it.
Cute. You love your kitty friend.
Sitting high upon your mighty throne, you survey the lands beholden to your mighty rule, feasting upon the finest of delicacies as you are attended by your loyal servants.
Yes, your 'mighty throne' is just a normal stool you froze in place on one of your ice platforms and your delicacies and servants are a bar of chocolate and Tabitha who is sitting on your lap, respectively, but who cares, it's the spirit that counts. And for you, this is greatly satisfying and that's what matters.
Your satisfaction. It truly is the ultimate measure of whether something is worthwhile or not.
"Muh. It's a bit warm today," you tell Tabitha, who is cuddling into your lap while you slowly stroke her back, an act she enjoys very much indeed. "Don't like it. You do though. Wibble Tabble-tubble…"
You do some baby talk as you float away, your kitty purring loudly. You're keeping close enough to the ground the wind doesn't whip at you too harshly, specifically so she can stay comfortable with you, and so you pretend at patrolling the city of New Generica as you scratch her behind her ears.
It is also the reason, of course, you end up witnessing an act of utter brutality.
A girl with notably pink hair, bound in big, fluffy twintails and dressed in a fluffy, frilly pink and blue dress, is standing before a trio of what you believe to be random thugs inside an alleyway. Oh, sure, their skin is green and they're pretty huge, in all dimensions, but they're really just thugs. Anyone could deal with them with a shovel and some elbow grease, in your experience.
Daddy… Are you serious right now or are you just fucking around? Because I could see both.
Muh. You are always serious.
The reason you mentioned brutality, though, is the girl in question… Who is brandishing a massive weapon, a long shaft she holds with both hands that balances a huge disk of some kind and an enormous, crystal-blue spear tip on each end.
This girl is not just any girl, for you can see the magic in her. She is, quite literally, magical. A girl that is magical. You could even call her a magical girl, if you were so inclined.
"Finally I found you, foul evildoers!" She exclaims in a high voice, smiling brightly. "You shall know the pain of the weak and the oppressed!"
The three thugs exchange a look, then laugh, a choir of grunting voices audible all the way up where you are watching. However, undeterred, the girl points the back end of her weapon towards the exit of the alley, conjuring a shimmering field of light.
"There, now you're locked in here with me! And now… BRILLIANT… BASH!" Whirling around, she raises her weapon up, slamming its blunt back end down on one of the creatures she's cornered. Its head caves in, skull broken apart under the force of the impact, and the disk sinks deeply into it, completely smashing apart the brain and positively pulverizing the spine, only stopping by the time it's sunken halfway down its throat.
The other two draw their weapons, an oversized pistol and a piece of pipe, but the magical girl doesn't particularly seem to care, instead choosing to just showcase more of her power. By impaling one of them with the pointy end of her weapon, then clobbering the other one with its compatriot, their pitiful squealing echoing for some time as she brutalizes them.
She has style. You like said style. While you are not the type to go out of your way to decorate the area with the blood and guts of your enemies for half an hour every time you kill someone, she does seem rather enthusiastic at doing so.
… Well, only really one thing you can do, at this point. Nodding to yourself, you (slowly) get up, depositing Tabitha on your stool for a moment so her paws don't get cold on the ice of your platform itself.
While it is a delight to warm up cold pawsies in your hands, it seems weird to purposefully make them cold to begin with. Priorities, eh?
Anyways, down below, the unnamed magical girl is slowly winding down, her uninhibited, possibly deranged yet still pleasant laughter ebbing back in favor of heavy breaths as she flicks what remains of one of her victims off her weapon, streaks of red covering her costume, skin and hair from head to toe.
Once that happens, you don't waste much of any time, stepping right off your platform and gracefully letting yourself drop down into the alleyway you were watching, the blood and gore currently covering it from top to bottom not at all detracting from your full majesty. "Muh."
The girl turns around, hurriedly hiding her massive weapon behind her back and blinking in surprise. "O-oh! Sorry, I didn't see you there! Oh my, where could all this ketchup have come from?"
Giving her an unimpressed look, you demonstratively poke your nose. "Smells like blood and shit."
"Uhh, it's very bad, old ketchup? Nobody should ever eat it!"
You point at the upper body of one of the thugs she just absolutely butchered, lying draped over the dumpster that's apparently meant to be here.
"Ooooh myyy, it's a crime scene?! Let's not touch anything, okay?"
"Muh. I saw it all. Good work. I like you."
"Thanks?" The pink-ette tilts her head, then clears her throat and shakes it. "I mean, thanks! I didn't know people liked this kind of thing."
"Muh. People are stupid. Don't matter. I do."
"Hah, guess you're right, there. You really shouldn't let the opinions of complete strangers influence your life, huh?" You get the feeling the conversation is very unfocused and going out of control, but you kind of want to see where it goes. "So, uh, yeah, I did this!"
She gestures with her giant, two-pronged and gore-caked weapon, accidentally scratching a rent into the alleyway's wall with its tip.
"Good work," you repeat as you keep staring at her.
"Thanks!" This time, it seems, she knows how she wants to react. "I really like to just, let it all out like this, you know? Make these little monsters regret being born, work up a bit of a sweat, get all dirty and grimy so I can shower it all off later, plus the exercise, of course…"
"Muh," you nod, indicating your understanding. You get where she's coming from, though you personally prefer the satisfaction of just ending something that used to be alive. That, if nothing else, is something of yourself that persisted from your past life. The important bits of your personality, in other words.
"Ohmigosh, I never thought I'd meet a comrade here!" Suddenly, the pink girl still covered in blood picks you up, smooshing you against her chest. You shall allow it. "We're gonna be the bestest of friends, aren't we?"
"Muh." You have no idea how you got to this point. Truly, your silver tongue runs faster than you can keep up with.
"I'm Magical Girl Dazzling Destruction, but my friends just call me Mitsuko!" She looks down at you expectantly, wide eyes and smile constant and unchanging.
"Muh. Ice Empress. Jackie."
"So nice to meet you, Jackie!" She continues to look at you as before, only continuing when you stare back stoically. "You have to say my name. Since you're my friend now."
The grip around your body tightens, though you pay that little to no attention. For no tight, constraining, crushing hug can threaten the might of the Mighty Ice Empress! Still, since your new subject seems to be highly emotionally invested in this topic, you shall humor her. Once you have coughed once, to clear your throat, and moistened your lips, anyways.
"Hello Mitsuko."
Too tight! She's holding you too tight! Assassination! She's an assassin after your head, for the Ice Crown and the authority it confers over all that exists! "OHHHHH we're gonna have so much fun being friends and hurting things together!"
"Mh… hh…" You want to muh, but the air available to you does not suffice. Where's Olivia when you need her, she could probably use magic to help you right now!
"Oh, sorry! I just got caught up a bit, there." Mitsuko loosens her grip of your majestic, luxurious Empress body, grinning widely. "Ehehe!"
"… Muh." Fresh air regained. Assassination attempt once more effortlessly thwarted.
"Oh, do you have a phone? We can exchange numbers to meet up again, to kill something or maybe to eat something sweet! There's this place I know, they have these amazing cakes they serve in big slices, you have to try them yourself to believe!"
You pull your smartphone out at warp speed, immediately convinced that this will be a fruitful relationship of cooperative spirit between yourself and a loyal retainer. "Muh!"
"I'm so happy I met you, Jackie! I was trying to find other magical girls for a bit, but I never thought you'd just find me so suddenly!" Giddily, Mitsuko puts her own phone away once you're done showing her your number, twirling her weapon around absently (and carving more bits and pieces out of your surroundings). "Ah! I completely forgot!"
"Muh?"
"I was supposed to find a Puchuu named Brian in this city somewhere, to deliver something. Do you have any idea where anyone like that could be?"
Hm. Brian… Or cake? Oh who are you kidding, you absolutely are going to sell him out in a heartbeat for cake. "Muh. Can bring him sometime."
"Thanks a bunch!" Picking you up again once she's rammed her weapon into the ground, the pinkette swirls around, giggling cutely. "Oh, I'm so happy to have made a friend! And even one that's so cute and light!"
"Muh. Less than a feather and heavier than mountains," you immediately spout the motto describing the weight of your importance juxtaposed to your physical weight. "Also, friend ritual. Hold still."
You grab a pink permanent marker you keep on hand inside your supply box of magical storage, wiggling out of Mitsuko's arms to walk around her and lift her skirt. Time to sign her panties, for they are your property.
"You're so silly! But okay, just don't do anything weird back there, okay?"
"Muh." You never do anything weird. Everything you do is natural and right, for natural-ness and righteousness are defined by your actions.
You have, in the past, had difficulty with the concept of ice-powered power armor, no matter how obvious and, indeed, natural the idea thereof was.
Truthfully, what thinking mind may not look at the majesty of cold, heat-sapping, life-taking, massive ice and think, 'oh, if only I could cover my weak flesh with this clearly superior substance, that it may preserve my feeble body with its great and terrible inherent superiority over all other Types'. Sadly for them, most living beings are also susceptible to the cold, and so they have, over the ages, to put thought into practice.
But no more! Standing here, in an empty part of the Overcity, the eternally stretching Sprawl, you shall write history and enforce your superiority once and for all, all in one move!
"HHRRNGH! MUUUUUUUUH!" You roar with all your strength, emitting the mana you require to construct your glorious battle-shell. "MUUUUUOOGH!"
The temperature plummets. Light refracts in a chilly mist that may just turn unprotected skin and flesh into solid ice on touch. You rise up, billowed by sheer cold, the absence of heat taking on a life of its own. Smooth, blue and clear perfection follows you, spreading out around you in a wide, swirling pattern-
You fall down. "MU-ouf."
This is not how you usually do your miniaturized training montages that show the narrative why you're immensely powerful so it should just shut up and accept it already. This is not how this is meant to go at all.
Gathering yourself up off the floor, you grumble a little as you think a bit. Why is this spell not working, just… not forming correctly? You would assume that, being able to create a chunk of moving and semi-autonomous ice, you would be able to do the same thing just in bigger just fine; it's not like you're changing much, if anything you're actually making it less complicated to use by trying to assert your own control over it.
The only thing that's really going on is that you're thinking bigger, which is the only way anyone should ever think, but that really shouldn't be-
Ah, crap. You just realized that volume rises exponentially here. Or something around that ballpark anyway, you're no mathematician and you would violently murder people for accusing you of being such.
But, assuming for the sake of simplicity that your golems as you use them, and not the better version you give Elena as a body, are roughly cube-shaped pieces of ice that simply unfold into humanoid forms and all, you can say that a base golem cube has certain dimensions and go from there. So, one Jackie times one Jackie times one Jackie in your example…
You grab a piece of ice left from one of your previous attempts and scratch a few calculations into the ice covering the ground, illustrated by the streetlights forever shining in the evening twilight of the Overcity. This is probably completely incorrect in any directly practical application, but pretending you had any idea about what you're doing and abusing the basic formula for the volume of a cube…
1x1x1=1 (assuming base golem, 1=10 mana)
2x2x2=8 (80 mana)
3x3x3=27 (270 mana)
4x4x4=64 (640 mana)
5x5x5=125 (1250 mana)
… Yes, clearly, just making a bigger golem is actually extremely straining on your infinite reserves of power. And while they are infinite, you can only ever draw on so much of them at one time, for fear of instantly shockfrosting all of reality and losing out on all the pussy contained within it.
Having clarified the theological questions raised by this issue, you turn back to the issue at hand itself. You would either have to compromise on the total size and volume of your glorious Frozen Uncovered Combat Knightsuite (FUCK in short), which would be both heresy and defeating the purpose of creating a massive ice mech for you to control in battle in the first place, or else figure out a way to dramatically increase the efficiency with which you can conjure and control animated ice, which has proven… difficult so far.
"Muh. This is a problem."
You're telling me! Like, here I was thinking I'd never have to use math for anything ever again after we ditched school forever, but here we are.
"Fuck math. Not important." You wave Elena's thought process off, still sunk into consideration of your current focus.
You do need massive ice to make this work. the more massive you go, the more it costs your personal reserves of mana to maintain your work, and you can't just work with, like, thrice the size of a regular golem- you may as well not bother then. Five times is the minimum that would still allow you to sit comfortably inside of and control it.
Ugh. It is times like this that make you wish you'd studied something actually useful like engineering instead of business administration. Not like any of that crap helped you when you basically ran a one-man IT department.
You survey all you see before yourself, which as you rule all you behold is also your very literal backyard. The joys of calling the shots, you can just declare things are yours and make it so just like that.
And yours they are indeed, your ownership of these woods obvious to any that may so much as glimpse them. For though most of your glorious garden area, spanning more and more houses behind your own residence every day in a glorious show of why you truly are the greatest and most fertile garden owner of the Overcity, is just the normal kind of forest, a palette of green and brown that has already begun corroding and completely digesting many signs of the Sprawl within it, but there are some exceptions to this rule of thumb.
Indeed, a part of your territory is, how should you put this… cold. The trees are darker, their bark, leaves and general surroundings incorporating hues of blue and some have needles in place of leaves entirely, their mild glow almost festive to your eyes.
This area in particular also is, as you immediately notice because you are great at remembering where what is and did not have to check twice, fairly close to your Ice Type companion with the big tits and wide hips, so you promptly embark upon a course that shall let you visit her. Maybe breed her a little, she seemed to enjoy-
You freeze, your eagle-eyed astuteness picking up upon a creature moving around inside this colder area. A creature somewhat bigger than a grown Jack's hand, with entirely more limbs than universal laws allow.
It is also, clearly visibly, an Ice Type. An Ice Type and nothing else.
… You still turn around and get back home immediately without another word. Do not want.
Mayhaps the time has come for you to reconsider the punishments applied to Bug Types for existing. Just as a thought. And though these are clearly Ice Types, meaning you by definition should probably not genocide them by default, you still cannot help but wonder if breeding your Ice Type was a wise decision.
Like… You would totally do it again either way, but you need to think about it now.
To your great and continued sufferance, however, your troubles regarding Ice Types of troubling persuasions do not end even when you return to your noble residence, thinking yourself free of and safe from such mortal terrors as these.
After all, you had, unthinking of the risks involved in doing so, summoned Elena earlier, before you started to screw around and relax a bit after a long day of Being Jackie. And now, now this fact is coming back to haunt you as you try to settle down in the kitchen, nursing some hot chocolate you bugged asked Chuckie for.
"Hey Daddyyy!" Your currently embodied daughter calls out, opening the sliding door you prize the room layout for normally. "You wouldn't ever guess what I found earlier when I hung out with Mirasol!"
"Muh?!" You ask, filled with a mix of anticipatory dread and a sense of premonition. This reminds you of back when you cleared the height requirements for most carnival rides, she's acting just like-
"Ta-dah!" Pulling her hands out from behind her, Elena presents to you the exact kind of sp*der you ran away bravely retreated from earlier. "Look, look, isn't it cool?"
"Muh!" You jump off your seat and retreat, tactically, to the nearest wall, only stopping when your back hits it. "MUH!!"
"Hehehe… Did you know you're way too cute and bullyable like this?" She grins, still holding up the abomination unto the Ice Type in one hand, loosely grasping its abdomen as it slowly wiggles around in that horrible, horrible way you cannot stand.
"Out! Get it out! Muh! No Bug Zone!" You protest, highly eloquently and with extreme calm. "Not in here! Bad!"
"Aww, don't worry daddy, this one's literally made out of ice, see?" Elena says, holding the terrible, terrible thingy up for you to see. "It's already starting to melt because it's room temperature in here. They need cool places to live, so you're totally safe."
And indeed, as you watch, you can make out a layer of perspiration forming on the creature's surface, clear water that covers both it and Elena's hands in short order as the sp*der begins to move more and more animatedly… and slips from her grasp as it keeps on losing small amounts of surface mass, making it both slippery and smaller than she expects.
"Am colder than room temperature," you point, suddenly rooted on the spot. You exchange a look with Elena. Then with the ice sp*der, now loosely perched on her wrist. Then they exchange one between one another, only for both of them to look back at you.
The sp*der jumps at you. You scream as it latches onto your clothes, immediately burying deeper to try and nest on your skin. "MUUUUUH!! AAAAAAAAAA!!! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF GET IT OFF IT'S TRYING TO GET INSIDE ME NOOOOOOOO!!!!"
Your cries of distress are both heartbreaking and testament to the great injustice committed against you on this day. Elena's roaring laughter as you desperately try to get the thing out of your clothes is not only entirely unwarranted, but also exceedingly hurtful and unnecessary, even as she does try and help you to get it off.
Unfortunately, so great is your unimaginable pain and desolate suffering, you cannot stop twisting and slapping at yourself in your efforts to do so, culminating in a full task force of Elena, Chuckie, Mirasol and the Anal Demon dragging you into the first floor's bathroom where they, after some initial panic and far too much amusement, fill the bathtub with warm water and dump you inside, melting the offending parasite trying to infest you for your most noble of body temperatures right away.
Naturally, the scalding temperature is most offensive to your Ice Type sensibilities, but after Elena mentions it's your first time washing yourself in months Chuckie insists on making you take an actual bath while you're at it, forcing you to take off your clothes and all.
You resent this entire series of events and, by order of the most holy office of the Jackie, declare the affair to be classified entirely, the order to be followed under pain of being tickled while powerless to resist for a minimum of two hours. Draconian, yes, but such is the pain and indignity you suffer you cannot allow any less.
Also, shampoo is stoopid and the bubbles get into your eyes while you are being given that bath by the three arch-traitors upon your name, which you continue to complain about. Very loudly.