An Innocent String of Events
The bar on the fourth deck of Rhodes Island had never been as packed with people as on that particular day.
While decidedly the most famous among all of the landship's bars and arguably one of its best known spots in general, with said fame coming entirely from one particular patron, that bar had always been a rather small one. Not really close to any -other- particular point of interest, the place lacked a stereo system and was instead endowed with an old jukebox, its menu could only be described as painfully average and the furniture itself was as plain as it could get. Some would've believed Minimalist to have designed the entire bar, had it not existed since before his arrival on the landship. As for what the durin thought about that particular bar, that would be far too long of a tangent for us to dive into.
As for why that place was so well known, the main and arguably only cause was that, be it by pure chance or for some reason nobody had ever dared to ask about, Gladiia had made it her resting spot of sort. She could sometimes be found there, sitting in a corner on her own, sometimes with a glass of gin, occasionally with a bottle. It was soon noticed that the jukebox always played jazz music when she was there, but nobody had ever actually seen her use the old machine to select a disk.
The list of reasons why people were curious about the aegirian consul was a rather long one: some had heard of her outlandish -unbelievable, even- feats on the battlefield; some had seen her at one of Rhodes Island's balls and simply wished to catch another glance of her figure; some were curious about the consul who apparently hailed from Aegir itself and was rumored to have single-handedly wiped away a third of the Iberian Inquisition, with this last point in particular being strongly opposed by a certain liberi hailing from Iberia and had even been part of the Inquisition itself. Some of the most daring people even approached Gladiia in at attempt at chatting with her. Maybe she wasn't quite as aloof as her looks and the rumors suggested after all, right?
... well.
Striking a conversation with Gladiia was not exactly what one would describe as an easy feat, but it also wasn't as difficult as most would imagine. Not to say that she liked being approached for small chats by anyone either, granted. In fact, most people had come to learn -if only from second-hand experience- that Gladiia was not one to waste time with conversations she deemed unworthy of her attention. To be more accurate, the overwhelming majority of those few people who had approached her to chat got sent back their own way within twenty seven seconds. Some made it to a couple of minutes admittedly, but nothing more. As it turned out, very few conversations were worthy of her attention. Or perhaps it was people themselves who weren't worthy of her time.
That wasn't quite the whole truth, to be honest, but rather the picture which had ultimately spread through the hallways of Rhodes Island. And, if nothing else, Gladiia didn't care about that either.
Now, to go back to our original point, the bar was experiencing an exceptional flow of people that day. And yet it wasn't actually getting a particular amount of patrons. Still more than usual, yes, but nowhere near as many as the sheer amount of people lined up to enter would have anyone believe. In fact, most were going there just to see something, and the staff had started to chase out anyone who stayed for more than a couple of minutes without ordering anything in order to allow those who actually wanted something to eat or drink the chance to make it to the counter or to a table.
Gladiia wasn't even there that day. Or rather, she hand't gotten there yet. The rumor had spread like wildfire, running from mouth to mouth and reaching nearly every corner of the landship before dinner could come around, new pictures constantly getting posted on Rhodes Island's inner network and luring in even more people who wanted to see the thing for themselves.
It was roughly half past five in the afternoon when something parted the line of people waiting for their chance to enter the bar. Gladiia would've easily been able to make her way through the crowd on her own, but it was the one accompanying her -or was it the other way around?- who caused pretty much everyone present to step to the side and let them pass. Kal'Tsit wasn't actually showing any particular emotion or state of mind on her face, but nobody wanted to check whether she was truly calm or merely hiding her anger by getting in her way.
Thus the two women walked into the overcrowded bar and saw with their own eyes what so many people on Rhodes Island had been talking about since that morning.
It was a statue.
A very peculiar one at that. The base had been worked in an odd way, made to appear rough, unpolished almost, but not unfinished, somehow giving off the impression of a rock hit by a calm wave. Then more and more mass of the original boulder disappeared as one moved their gaze upward, two finely crafted figures emerging from the pale stone as if being born from the reef and tide themselves, vivid and curated in every detail, so dynamic and vibrant the act immortalized that some almost expected them to start moving at any moment. The one thing which seemed to not quite fit the composition, if anything, was its dimension. The statue was by no means small, but it was clear that the subjects were not life-sized, which felt somewhat odd for some reason.
At the sight, Gladiia nearly let out a sigh. Kal'Tsit, on the other hand, simply observed it in silence, her arms crossed.
Nobody dared to make a sound with both them and that statue present, much less speak.
After all, nobody believed that either one of them had approved for a statue of them dancing together in elegant evening dresses to be made, let alone for it to be placed here. Dresses which, while not scant or risqué by any means, were still a stilistical far cry from what either of the two were usually seen wearing. Incidentally, that was one of the reasons why the news spread so quickly, after the staff walked into the bar that morning to find a broken lock, some tables moved out of the way and and exceptionally heavy statue in their place.
"Captain, dr. Kal'Tsit" an almost chirpy voice echoed amidst the silence, the sculptress casually approaching the two with open arms "I admit that I hadn't hoped for my latest work to be this successful, but it would seem people on here can appreciate art better than I had given them credit for. I had to scale everything down a fair bit in order to get the statue through the doors, unfortunately, but other than that I'm quite happy with the end result myself. What about you?"
"Shark" came Gladiia's dry reply, a certain sharpness to her voice "I appreciate your artistic endeavours. Your skills are impressive, even with tools as old-fashioned as chisels and hammers"
"I miss my old toys quite a bit, but I find stone a lot more malleable now than I did back when this was still my job" she said back with a soft smile, her sharp teeth barely poking out from behind her lips.
"Operator Specter" Kal'Tsit then chimed in "You requested for a series of craft tools and raw materials through Rhodes Island's Logistic Department. The documents you presented were in order, the items requested could be aquired with reasonable ease and your form was approved. However, a statue made in this material and of this size is far too heavy for any ordinary staff member of Rhodes Island to transport alone. As such, its unauthorized placement here constitutes a violation of the landship's code of conduct. You have six hours to remove it from this locale, and are free to compile a formal request to have the statue's placement in one of Rhodes Island's public areas approved. In the meanwhile you will need to store it in a private quarter, require for it to be put away within one of the warehouses or propose an alternative solution. The repair fee for the door will be subtracted from your contract remuneration" she said, some soft whispers beginning to circulate around them, nobody really surprised by her words, some nonetheless a little disappointed.
"Is it not to your liking, Kal'Tsit?" Specter asked back, not quite amused, not really annoyed either "Is it the attire? I think the long dress looks lovely on you"
"My personal opinion is of no relevance to the matter at hand" the feline concluded before turning around and leaving, for she was an exceptionally busy woman.
"Now this is troublesome. How's one supposed to improve with no opinion about the results of their sweat and tears?"
"Shark" Gladiia answered, taking the one step needed to close the distance between them and resting an hand on her shoulder, her voice dying down to a whisper even her fellow huntress could barely hear from so up close "Dr. Kal'Tsit usually dons suit and tie when the two of us dance together"
"Ah!"
It was a fairly ordinary morning, that one. Rosmontis had woken up a little later than usual, admittedly, but just by ten, maybe fifteen minutes. She didn't end up being late for breakfast with Blaze nor for her morning class with Logos, so she saw no reason to write that detail down in her terminal. The little feline would've liked to eat with Amiya as well, in truth, but the cautus was rather busy as of late and Rosmontis didn't want to disturb her. Still, she had no other particular commitments for the day and a quick look at her notes left her somewhat unsure about what to do.
Kal'Tsit was busy, and Mon3tr was staying with her for the day. Logos was taking lessons... giving lessons... he was doing something with that sarkaz who always wore a bulky suit of armor, Rosmontis' notes only said it was something private. Blaze had left the landship right after breakfast. Mechanist would be working until sunset. Stormeye, Touch, Pith and Mantra were all away. ... perhaps she could go to the library. Or to the movie theatre.
A knock on her door distracted her from her thoughts, the sight greeting her as she looked out into the hallway leaving her remarkably startled.
"Why hello there, little kitty" a voice she was sure she had heard before spoke out from behind a large object covered by a white veil and hosted on some sort of cart "Can I have some of your time?" the voice added, an head poking out from behind the veiled thing.
Oh, she recognized that face.
"Good morning, Laurentina. What is this?"
"A present, perhaps"
Rosmontis bent her neck a little. Presents were a nice thing, but she couldn't recall having done anything to merit one from Laurentina. At the same time, she didn't want to make her wait in the hallway while she checked her notes to see if maybe she had actually done something to warrant the gift. Oh, wait, she'd been told once -or thrice- that just wanting to give someone a present was a good enough reason to do so, right.
"... one moment"
And so the feline closed the door and quickly walked around her room, pulling the curtains and hiding from sight the walls covered in photos and annotations, dozens upon dozens of fragments of her past immortalized for her to see and remember. With dark, heavy curtains covering pretty much every wall the feline's quarter looked like some sort of production studio, or perhaps like a weird photo boot, but she didn't mind. Assuming the similarity had made it into her mind to begin with.
"Come in" she welcomed the huntress inside, opening the door again and letting her push that veiled thing in, its size just barely allowing it to fit through without damaging either itself or the wall.
"Quite the lovely place as always" Laurentina said, her gaze briefly lingering on the one curtain which was covering something other than a wall before settling on the feline herself "Do you think you could fit this little piece in here as well?" she asked, pointing to the still veiled thing she had brought with her "I'm rather certain you can appreciate it"
Rosmontis' neck bent a little bit the other way.
"Oh, sure" the huntress replied to the unspoken question as she pulled the veil off, revealing the statue she had to remove from the bar just the previous evening.
Rosmontis' ears twitched, and her tail stood straight up. With a soft shine in her eyes, the feline approached the statue and walked around it, her gaze captured by the finely crafted scene immortalized through the cold stone. In fact, she even leaned forward and smelled it, ending up a little disappointed when the statue turned out to not carry Kal'Tsit's scent.
"... does dr. Kal'Tsit wear these dresses?"
"That's what we call artistic liberty, dear"
"I think a... " she replied, pausing for a few seconds as she looked for the right word "... I think she would look better in a tuxedo... "
That got an heartily chuckle out of Laurentina, although Rosmontis couldn't understand for what reason.
"Why are you giving this to me?"
"As I said, I have a feeling you can appreciate it. Am I wrong?"
Rosmontis' gaze moved back and forth between the statue and the sculptor, slowly, her ever-sleepy expression appearing a little less lethargic than usual. Gladiia's figure was as captivating as Kal'Tsit's, but the feline was clearly more interested in the former. In her back, to be more specific.
"... I'd like to keep this"
"I knew I could count on you, kitty" Laurentina replied as she folded up the sheet she had used to cover the statue "Oh, you can keep the transporter too" she added while tapping it a couple of times "There's a lock on the wheels, and I'd rather not have you accidentally chip the statue by moving it around with your Arts"
Rosmontis simply nodded. Those words made sense, after all. Just as she was about to start looking for a good place to put the statue at, however, Specter walked up to her and petted her head. That was not a gesture the little feline was comfortable receiving from anyone, but she and the huntress had gotten somewhat close over time, enough for her to not mind that sort of contact.
"Your hair's a little messy, you know? Shall I comb them for you?"
Rosmontis bent her head a little to the right, then a little to the left, and then to the right again. Laurentina's hand felt a fair bit too soft compared to that of Mon3tr, but she didn't mind it all that much.
"Mnh" she simply replied, fetching a comb, a couple of chairs and sitting down.
The huntress, however, remained standing as she began to run her fingers through the feline's locks, swiftly but not vigorously, getting a better feel of their state. Her hair had somewhat of a stained silvery sheen to it, and each strand was pleasantly soft to touch. Laurentina herself had given her some tips on how to better take care of her hair and the difference was admittedly there compared to before their first meeting, but she guessed Rosmontis sometimes didn't have the time, sometimes lacked the desire and others still simply forgot about the things she'd been taught. Not really a big deal, no. The huntress was almost happy about it, even: combing the feline's hair, undoing the occasional knot in her locks, sometimes washing them, maybe tying them into a large braid, it was all rather fun in its own way.
Rosmontis, on her part, had been a little hesitant about that arrangement at first, but she came to find it relaxing rather quickly. On that particular morning, however, her gaze was fixed on the statue she had just received, the equally pleasant and odd sight of it keeping her from fully enjoying Laurentina's treatment. The huntress had noticed it and, rather than saying anything, simply chuckled a little while making sure to run the comb through her hair more softly than usual and weave her locks into two entwined braids with an especially gentle touch.
... did Kal'Tsit know how to dance, Rosmontis wondered. She sometimes attended Rhodes Island's balls so she probably did, right? In that case, would Mon3tr know how to dance as well? What about Amiya? Oh, but Amiya liked to play the violin, so maybe she'd like to have people dance to her music rather than dance herself? It'd been a long time since Rosmontis had last heard the cautus playing her instrument. She had a few recordings on her terminal, in a folder with an attached reminder to not tell anyone about whose music that was because Amiya was a little embarrassed by her own performances, but listening to those wasn't the same thing as watching the cautus play for real.
What was it like to dance, though?
Was it fun?
"Are you curious about the sculpture" Laurentina eventually said, her voice shaking Rosmontis out of her thoughts "Or about the scene it depicts?"
The feline almost moved her head a little, then she remembered that her hair was still getting combed and stood still instead.
"Do you know how to dance?"
"I absolutely can, little kitty. I was taught by an exceptional dancer, although she could really use to loosen up a bit every now and then"
"What is it like?"
"Ah, such a difficult question" she shot back, the dissonance between her words and her amused voice confusing Rosmontis a little bit "If you were to ask ten dancers this very same question you might very well get fourteen different answers. I don't believe you people of the surface can truly appreciate a dance the same way we do either, in truth"
Feeling the huntress' hands leaving her hair -the double braid was done- Rosmontis decided to turn around and meet her gaze, innocent curiosity in her eyes.
"Would you like to try?" the huntress anticipated whatever question might've been coming her way, a soft smile which still showed off her sharp teeth causing the feline to bend her neck a little bit.
"Yes"
"Very well then! Here, take care of these" she added as she casually handed Rosmontis the combs -where did the second one come from?- and started taking paced steps around the center of the room, measuring the space aviable "A little tight for a dance floor, but we can manage. Would you like some music to go along with us?"
"Do we need music?" she asked back while putting one comb away and leaving the other on her desk.
"The only things one really needs to dance are a partner and a suitable floor, but this is about comfort. Something which will make you excited, or perhaps relaxed"
Rosmontis looked at the huntress for a few seconds, then she stared at her own feet, and only then did her eyes settle on her terminal. After a bit of hesitation, she walked up to it and looked for that one folder, adjusted the volume setting and made the record start. It was probably fine, so long as she said nothing about whose music that was.
As for Laurentina, she spared the little feline from hearing her thoughts about said music. She was no musician herself, but it was still pretty clear that whoever had played that melody was no expert either. Still, it was even more apparent from Rosmontis' body language that she had picked that piece because she found it relaxing, thus the huntress refrained from ruining said relaxation.
Besides, it's not like the music was all that unpleasant to her ears either. Actually, it might just turn out to be a rather fun base.
"Now come here" she called "Put an hand over here, on my back. A little lower -there! Spread your legs a little, don't look like a stick. Yes, that's good. And now hold my hand"
Laurentina had over twenty whole centimeters of advantage over the feline in height, but there used to be a member of her team of old she occasionally danced with who was even shorter than Rosmontis, thus the difference didn't bother her much. It was the feline herself who seemed a bit unsure about it, if anything, and doubly so when the huntress simply... didn't move. Not that she stayed completely still either, no. She was swaying softly left and right, like a wave tenderly hitting the shore over and over.
She knew that Rosmontis occasionally painted Mon3tr -and vice versa as well-, she had seen a few canvases right there in that room, and while she wasn't technically good at it, Laurentina still found the strokes of her brush rather emotional, passionate even. It was partially because of that particular hobby, in truth, that the huntress had decided to give the statue to her. But dancing was an entirely different matter, and she wanted to see if the little child capable of delectably amateurish paintings and amusingly bloody massacres was also an at least bearable dance partner.
"Don't think" she told her "Internalize the rhythm. Feel it. With me now"
That was odd, Rosmontis thought. She had never danced, that was true, but that was still... not quite how she'd have expected a dance to start. But Laurentina said she was good at it, and the feline believed her. So she complied, resting her head against the huntress' chest and beginning to sway softly with her, almost but not quite on time with the melody. They stayed like that for a few seconds, then a few more, and then longer still, and what couldn't have been more than a minute seemed to stretch into a good half an hour With nothing else to do, Rosmontis focused on the familiar music, on the memory of the time she had heard it performed directly by Amiya, and relaxed.
Then Laurentina stepped to the side, and the little feline followed her.
"Oh?"
She took another step, a short and slow one just as the music suggested, and then a third, pause, a fourth and a fifth nearly together, stop, a sixth -break-
"You're truly amusing, little kitty" she commented as she kept dancing, guiding the feline along into a slow duet which kept tracing its own steps back, perhaps because the amount of space aviable simply forced them to, perhaps for some other reason.
But Laurentina's dance wasn't an uninterrupted string of elegant moves flowing into one another, no. What she wanted to do there and then was play along to the melody and, since neither the notes nor the tempo were perfect, neither would be her steps and her transitions.
Rosmontis felt this, if only because the huntress' chosen method for disrupting the dance was to lean into the feline's own missteps and exacerbate them, guiding her feet too far or making them stop too soon every now and then, hurrying her up or making her slow down against the music's pace. That did make her exceptionally aware of her own mistakes admittedly, and yet the end result was somehow harmonious, as if Laurentina had practiced those specific steps to that particular melody hundreds of times.
... it was kind of fun, Rosmontis eventually thought. And rather relaxing as well. No, rather, it was soothing.
She closed her eyes, her ears standing a little bit straighter up to better catch not only the notes but the sound of their steps as well, and at some point she unconsciously released her Arts.
Laurentina chuckled as something soft, lukewarm and immaterial wrapped over her, something akin to a net, an embrace of sort which seemed to extend past her and envelope the feline responsible for it as well, nudging their steps this way or that one.
Rosmontis, however, suddenly stopped moving, the increased quantity of sensorial informations flowing into her brain alerting her that she had begun casting without having meant to.
"Don't just stop like that" Laurentina almost but not quite reprimanded her, giving her back a gentle push and her hand a soft pull without really moving her "Or have you tired of this dance already?"
Rosmontis looked up, her slightly confused gaze meeting a decidedly amused one.
"No, this is... this is nice"
"Then keep going, kitty, exactly as you were doing. Exactly" she repeated that one word, stressing it a fair bit.
Rosmontis decided to comply once again, her eyelids falling a second time. Unlike just a few moments before, however, she was fully aware of her Arts being active and carefully extended them to her surrounding, feeling both hers and Laurentina's motions twice, once through them and once with her own body.
She'd been following along since the start, but the huntress had been slowly pushing her to the front and, with that unexpected turn of events, Laurentina decided to switch up the roles completely. Moreso than to her proficiency in the art of dancing, that was a testament to the complete uniqueness of Laurentina's style, to have lulled someone from follow to lead at their first bout. Granted, not even she could've made it work with someone who truly and completely lacked any sort of attitude for the art, but that hardly made it any less impressive.
In fact, it took Rosmontis a while to come to the realization that Laurentina had been following her steps instead of leading them. The feline had simply continued along the rhythm of the music, occasionally broken up as it might've been, but at some point the huntress had moved to a supportive position instead, still working into or in opposite direction to every mistake the little feline made to turn them into purposeful steps while no longer directing her at all.
She had granted her so much freedom, in fact, that Rosmontis found herself lost and startled, unsure of what she was supposed to do next. To the point that, even with her Arts active, she failed to take notice of her own bed and accidentally led Laurentina straight into it. The huntress hit her leg against the frame while turning around and fell down, but only because she wanted to, grabbing Rosmontis and lifting her up to drag her down onto the sheets as well, making the little feline let out a startled meowl while Laurentina herself laughed heartily.
"I know, little kitty!" she equally chuckled and shouted, earning a decidedly confused stare from Rosmontis "I just know! Now, come with me! Hurry, hurry!"
Most people wouldn't describe Suzuran's quarter as cramped. It wasn't particularly large, no, but the furniture was also far from overabundant. Nonetheless, the little vulpo would sometimes push almost everything she could manage to move by herself either in a corner or against the walls to make as much room as she could, on very specific occasions. Which is to say, when Gladiia dropped by to give her dance lessons.
It started almost by mistake, in truth. Suzuran had seen the huntress dance at one of Rhodes Island's balls, the only one the vulpo had ever been to, and the sight left her so captivated she couldn't help but try and ask her if she could dance with her too, even if just for a minute. None of the people present at the time were all that surprised to see Gladiia accepted, since the rare thing for her was to turn down an invitation at those balls. What nobody knew was that the little vulpo had searched for her the following day, found her only two more days later and asked her for lessons.
Gladiia accepted again, for reasons Suzuran herself wasn't exactly sure about about admittedly, but with two conditions: the lessons would take place whenever the huntress had some time, with no fixed schedule, and they would end when she deemed them either no longer necessary or worthwhile, with no indication of when either one might happen. That could very well mean that they might go an entire month without meeting, an occurrence which happened at least once admittedly, but Suzuran was grateful enough that her sudden request had been accepted to not complain about the frequency of the lessons, doing so at that point would've been more than just rude. Especially because she knew Gladiia often worked together with Kal'Tsit and so, with how busy Kal'Tsit always was, it seemed natural to think that Gladiia herself had very little free time too.
That morning, as it so happened, was one of those rare occasions when Suzuran was being instructed on that particular art.
"Your breathing is too slow. Pacing it is good, but what you're doing is only marginally better than breathing too fast"
"I'm sorry, so... like this... ?"
Gladiia, hunched over to make up somewhat for the over half a meter of advantage she had over Suzuran, felt her breaths, she heard them, and she observed her chest as it moved.
"Now with me"
"Ah- yes!"
Gladiia's way of teaching was remarkably different from anything the vulpo had expected. She was merciless but not cruel, pointing out Suzuran's mistakes while correcting them at the same time, be that a matter of dragging her foot a little further or block it instead, to pull her shoulder up to straighten her posture or down to make her arch her back, to breathe loudly to give her a better grasp of the rhythm, but her voice was always calm, or perhaps even a little cold. To tell the whole truth, Suzuran herself held some doubts about those methods but, having seen Gladiia dance, she just couldn't bring herself to voice any of them. The first few lessons had been somewhat normal she guessed, at least relatively speaking, as the little vulpo simply followed the huntress along a dance improvised on a piece of music Suzuran herself had picked -almost at random- in order to get her accustomed to the act itself of moving her body together with someone else. Or so she'd been told, at least.
But at some point Gladiia did away with the music and had Suzuran improvise the steps with nothing to base them upon. The vulpo would've said those couple of lessons had gone badly, horribly so even, since she spent a bit of time frozen and the rest basically stumbling around, but Gladiia herself made no comments about the performance, neither praise nor criticism.
Then they switched places and Suzuran had to try and follow the huntress along again. With rather middling results at first, she'd say, but after being told over and over to think of that as a conversation and always have something she wanted to convey in mind -that was, in truth, the very first thing Gladiia had told her- something eventually clicked inside the vulpo's mind. She started to get an odd sort of grasp on the flow of their steps, on the way Gladiia moved. It felt a little bit like listening to someone, yes, like being shown a slideshow but not quite managing to make out what was on the film, or perhaps like trying to write someone a letter with a pen which was running out of ink. And sometimes she felt like Gladiia herself was conveying something to her, although she just couldn't tell what, not even vaguely.
Only then did Gladiia start teaching Suzuran actual steps from some dance routines, but that was still a very minor part of their lessons. Partially because Gladiia herself saw little point in hammering those into the little vulpo, given how irregular and unfrequent those lessons ultimately were.
As for that particular morning, the one leading was Suzuran. And just like Gladiia had told her, she was trying to picture their dance as a conversation. It didn't quite make sense when she tried to think about it logically, but with the huntress' hands on her and hers on the huntress, something simply fell into place. And, with nothing in particular to guide her thoughts, she found herself stepping to the most recent memory she had of tending to her potted plants.
At least until the door suddenly got slammed open, swinging so far back it hit the wall with a loud, metallic noise which echoed within the hallways and then bounced right back. Suzuran would've probably jumped from the surprise, had Gladiia not held her down. As for the consul herself, she held back a sigh. She had heard the footsteps approaching, but she had hoped that Laurentina would keep up her good streak and not interrupt her during those lessons.
Then again, that good streak had kind of ended the previous day to begin with.
... arguably.
"Swordfish!" the huntress almost laughed, an impossibly wide smile on her face, her exceptionally sharp teeth in full display "I challenge you!"
Suzuran, who had turned around without quite letting go of Gladiia, blinked several times. Her tails waved in the air.
"Ehm... g-good morning, miss Specter... and... ehm... uh?" she tried to greet, although the sight in front of her quickly left her at a loss for words.
"Shark. We have talked about this already"
"About your lessons, yeah, but not about this"
Gladiia spent a couple of moments staring at the short, silver-haired feline on Laurentina's back, her arms wrapped around the huntress' neck and her legs locked around her chest. Judging by her bewildered expression, by the way she was holding on to Laurentina and by the speed at which they had arrived, figuring out what had just happened to her was remarkably easy.
"I'm not fond of pointless fights, b-"
"No no no, swordfish, you got it wrong" Laurentina interrupted her -and already Gladiia had to stop herself from raising an eyebrow at that- "I'm talking about her!" she explained, pointing a finger at Suzuran "Your pupil in a dance competition with mine!" she concluded, grabbing Rosmontis from her back and presenting her to the duo.
While holding her by the jacket. It wasn't exactly comfortable, admittedly, but she did put the feline down right away.
"Ehm... g-good morning, Rosmontis... ?"
"Good morning, Suzuran" she replied, the feline looking around as confused as the vulpo.
As for Gladiia, she nearly brought an hand to her forehead, but managed to simply adjust her hat instead at the last moment.
"Since when are you teaching anyone how to dance, shark?"
"Since five minutes ago, more or less"
"Oh, you're taking lessons too?"
"Am I?" Rosmontis asked back, not matching Suzuran's sudden enthusiasm in the slightest as she turned towards Laurentina.
"You most definitively are, little creature" she answered, tapping the feline's finger and making her back away a little "And I'm sure you could actually do better than pillow" she added, her gaze trailing to Suzuran.
"I don't think I'm that good yet... "
"You are at least somewhat better than average" Gladiia cut her off "Don't think I would have given you so much of my time otherwise"
"Yes, I'm sorry, thank you!" Suzuran's reply came out, a little too stiff for her own tastes admittedly but sometimes Gladiia's words just commanded that sort of response.
"Come on, swordfish. It'll be fun. Besides, if little pillow here is that good what do you even have to fear?"
"I will pretend you didn't just resort to such basic taunts, shark. However" the huntress captain replied as her gaze moved to Suzuran, who on her part gave her a slightly puzzled one in return "It might be a good time to test her progresses"
Suzuran stood at attention upon hearing those words, though she wasn't exactly sure why herself. In fact, she felt embarrassed the moment she noticed Rosmontis' curious gaze on her.
"You can look for the third person then!" Laurentina continued, bending down to better stare at both Rosmontis and Suzuran in the eyes.
"Ehm... a third one?"
Gladiia briefly rolled her eyes. If that's how her Shark wanted it then sure, she'd indulge her for a while.
"You won't dance with each other. A third person is picked and the partecipants then take turns dancing with them while being evaluated. Skadi would've been such a fine choice, but she isn't on the landship at the moment"
"I don't have that much time" Gladiia chimed in "We will have only one round for each partecipant. I'm fine with leaving the choice of the third person to you. Either someone who excels at dancing or who has little to no experience, so long as they don't trip and fall every other step. But you must find them within the next four days, I will not have enough time for this afterwards"
"Then I'll go and find someone to play some music. Oh, and some pretty dresses too maybe! Can you take care of the location, Swordfish?"
"Of course"
Still not quite entirely sure what was going on, Suzuran turned towards Rosmontis and extended an hand.
"So, uhm... well... let's do out best, I think?"
The feline bent her head a little to the side. Her ears twitched.
"Mnh" she sort of replied as she shook Suzuran's hands.
Around a day or so later, in a different room of Rhodes Island, another young vulpo was busy with needle and thread.
"I told you to stop already"
Morte waved its arms around, stabbing the air a few times with its toy -toy?- knife in response and then hitting the desk's surface with the handle.
"Size has no intrinsic merit, Morte. Unless you want to consider excessive maintenance requirements a positive" Shamare replied, changing both needle and thread as she kept fixing up her companion.
Because the walking doll was pretty beat up. Some small cuts, a bit of missing stuffing, some loose stitches, an hole which clearly hadn't been made with any kind of blade. A leg had been crushed, an arm was hanging loosely by a tiny patch of cloth, one of its button eyes was missing. Morte didn't seem to be feeling any pain as the vulpo pushed her hands into it to scope out the ruined stuffing, her fingers grazing the thin internal structure made of Originium. That one was still intact, at least. Something slimy and lukewarm crawled over her hand as it sunk into the doll, her arm digging into Morte for more than its size could technically allow, but she paid none of that any attention. At least the doll wasn't leaking anything.
"This is stupid. Stop it" she reprimanded a second time, which only got Morte to wave its arms again.
Shamare was just about to think that the doll at least wasn't thrashing around enough to hinder the repairs, but a knock at her door kept said thought from properly forming inside her mind.
"Stay here" she instructed as she went to answer.
"Give it back!" a rather high-pitched voice immediatly demanded as the door opened.
"Give what?" the little vulpo flatly asked back, her eyes meeting those of a decidedly annoyed caprinae, one a little taller than her.
Shamare very briefly ran her gaze over the not-guest. Bena was... not a pleasant person to be around, although the vulpo thought that of most people, but she did have a rather interesting sense of fashion at least.
"Annie's arm! Your doll took it away! Again!"
"... wait here"
With the specific kind of composure which came from repeating a somewhat tried and tired routine, Shamare closed the door and walked back to Morte, which seemed a little more agitated now.
"Spit it out"
The stuffed, damaged doll seemed a little hesitant, but it ultimately pointed its knife at the stitches keeping its mouth shut and loosened them a lot, to the point anyone other than Shamare herself would wonder just how exactly the thread hadn't snapped off. That aside, Morte then plunged its one functioning arm into its own mouth and dragged out of it what looked like the slightly battered arm of a mannequin, although the only things suggesting that the doll hadn't just pulled an actual, flesh-made limb from its jaws were the lack of blood, of scents and the cracks on the skin where the arm should've connected to the shoulder, cracks much more reminiscent of porcelain than of flesh, the detatched limb being or at the very least appearing hollow on the inside.
Without a word, Shamare grabbed the arm and handed it back to Bena, who was still waiting at the door.
"That doll is a bad influence on you" she said -again- as she took the arm back "You shouldn't give it this much freedom"
That sounded like somewhat of a genuinely concerned advice, but Shamare either didn't believe Bena or simply didn't care, closing the door instead and going back to her business, ignoring the words coming from the hallway. Not like she could make them out all that well, the soundproofing in the dorms was rather well made after all.
"I will stitch your eyes to the inner side of your head next time" she informed Morte as she resumed fixing it up "These squabbles with the dream mannequin are pointless"
It was a little hard to understand given its state and its general lack of expressivity, but the doll seemed to cross its arms and pout in response. No further complaints came from it though, and it had even stopped squirming, so Shamare decided to leave it at that for the time being and simply focus on the repairs.
At least until someone knocked again.
With something faintly resembling annoyance swirling around weakly in the placid lake of her mind, Shamare got back up and went to answer the door once more.
"Good evening, Shamare" came Suzuran's greeting, the usual warm smile on her face "Can we talk for a moment? It'll be quick, I promise"
Shamare's right ear did half a twitch to the right as her gaze moved past Suzuran to confirm what her nose had already told her. Rosmontis was there as well, but the vulpo's eyes didn't quite settle on her but rather on the air next to her, as if she was staring at someone else still. Her other ear did half a twitch as well, still towards the right.
Suzuran considered that a bad sign, but she made sure to say nothing about it.
"... yes"
Shamare and Rosmontis exchanged what could be considered an overall polite but rather mechanical greeting, then the vulpo fetched two foldable chairs from under the bed and grabbed the one at her desk so that everyone had a seat. She'd have liked for Suzuran to sit on the bed, instead, but she knew that her friend wouldn't have accepted to make herself comfortable there while the other two sat on chairs. And Shamare didn't really want Rosmontis' scent on her sheets.
"I know this is pretty sudden but we are a bit short on time, sorry. So, well... Shamare. Rosmontis and I will have a... ehm, I think it's a sort of competition, but since it's just between two people then it's a duel? We'll dance with someone else one at a time and then someone will be declared the winner... ? I-it was all decided rather quickly and I honestly didn't get the details, but what I meant to ask is -would you be fine with dancing with us for this? It'll be a quick thing, really!"
Shamare didn't blink. She didn't bend her neck. Her tail didn't move, nor did her ears twitch.
"... with you and Rosmontis. One at a time"
"That would be the plan" the feline replied.
"Why me?"
"Well, I... "
Suzuran had been taking dance lessons precisely because she wanted to invite Shamare to one of Rhodes Island's balls one day, but telling her that would've been a little too embarrassing, and probably too sudden as well. The way her gaze had dropped to her own feet and her tails were waving behind her made it pretty clear that there was something she didn't want to say, but Shamare decided to simply wait and listen to whatever Suzuran was comfortable with disclosing.
"I thought it could be fun" she eventually said, and to be fair that was not a lie.
"And you?" Shamare asked Rosmontis, moving her gaze to the feline, then to something else next to her, and then back to her again.
Suzuran had noticed her doing that somewhat often with Rosmontis, but the one time she had managed to ask Shamare what that was about her friend had dismissed the question as being about a matter of no importance.
"I wanted to ask Logos" Rosmontis admitted right away, making a single bead of cold sweat run down Suzuran's forehead "But he is busy. Dr. Kal'Tsit is too. And Blaze. Amiya said she... "
"B-but!" Suzuran interrupted her, because for as much as she didn't quite believe those words would anger Shamare she still didn't want to run that risk, and besides the feline was being sort of rude anyway, even if she didn't mean it like that "She's totally fine with you too! Right, mis- Rosmontis?"
"I am" she confirmed calmly, giving off the strong impression that the only one actually bothered by her previous answer had been Suzuran herself.
"... when would this event be?"
"Oh, if you accept then I think... tomorrow after lunch? ... Shamare" Suzuran added as she stood up and walked towards her friend, enough to whisper almost right into her ear "I know that you and Rosmontis... don't get along all that well, but this might be a chance to change that a bit? Please?"
Shamare turned towards the feline again, their eyes meeting for a few moments before the vulpo's gaze shifted to the air next to her once more.
Suzuran was... kind of wrong, to be honest. What Shamare felt towards Rosmontis was closer to annoyance, and it wasn't quite really caused by the feline herself. If someone were to somehow manage to make her put it into words, she would say that seeing what followed her around was a bit like seeing someone standing in front of a mail box with a tiny letter in hand, unable to find the hole through which to push the envelope. It had nothing to do with Shamare, technically speaking, but a small part of her simply found the sight itself annoying while another wondered whether she shouldn't make an hole in the mail box herself. That last bit was arguably caused by Suzuran's influence, but that's beside the point.
Well, to tell the whole truth Shamare really didn't like the way Rosmontis occasionally dragged Suzuran into weird situations, such as that one time with the stupid variation of Uno or that other one with the book of erotic illustrations of Rhodes Islanders, but she was trying to not think too much of it as those occurrences were mostly due to accidents, misunderstandings or ill coincidences anyway. Besides, those were much, much easier to bear than Suzuran's weird relationship with Lappland anyway.
As for Rosmontis herself, she held no ill feelings towards Shamare at all but she did believe there was some sort of mild animosity aimed towards her, and that kept the feline from being at ease around the vulpo.
"If you don't want to then it's fine" Suzuran said more loudly as she stepped back, her best efforts at keeping her tails still and her ears tall not quite giving the intended results "We'll look for... ?" she continued, her words dying down when Shamare raised an hand to interrupt her.
"Fine" she said "I will do it"
"Thanks a lot!" Suzuran bursted out, the only thing keeping her from hugging Shamare being the knowledge that her friend wasn't exactly fond of sudden physical contacts "I'm sure you'll like it too!"
"... are you sure?" Rosmontis asked instead, apparently not convinced.
Shamare didn't even look at her this time, her gaze fell directly on the air next to the feline's head instead.
Rosmontis was akin to the letter's recipient, so Shamare figured she might as well act as the hole through which the mail could get to her. Perhaps that would make the sight of her less bothersome.
"Yes. But I have some things to take care of now" she replied, because Morte might seriously start to leak things which were better left inside of it rather than out if she didn't patch its body up quickly enough.
"Oh, then we won't trouble you any longer" Suzuran immediatly agreed "I don't know where we'll do it yet but I'll come to pick you up after lunch tomorrow, is that alright?"
"Yes"
"Thanks"
"It's fine"
That last exchange between the other two girls still leaving Suzuran a little worried, she nonetheless decided to trust Shamare and head back out with Rosmontis, excitement and anxiousness for the following day both welling up within her.
As for Morte, it got fixed within the following two hours, but for its misbehaviour Shamare also sewed it to the underside of her mattress and left it there until sunrise.
The venue Gladiia had managed to secure was by no means grandiose. It leaned more towards the opposite end of the spectrum, if anything. Understandable, considering that the event itself was decidedly small, not to mention that it had been planned in an hurry, but Suzuran was still a tiny little bit disappointed. Then again, a recently cleaned out and currently empty storage room did have enough space, the lights worked and it was far enough from the busier parts of the landship to make it rather unlikely anyone would wander in by mistake and interrupt them. While it was admittedly really different from what the vulpo had imagined, she didn't find anything truly wrong with it all things considered.
Still, there were slightly more people than Suzuran had expected there. Perhaps because she thought it'd just be the five of them, but still.
Gladiia and Laurentina were both there, obviously, having a chat in a corner of the room, and one seemed a lot more upbeat than the other to be honest. Laurentina was even holding a camera, since Rosmontis had asked her to take a photo or two.
Then there were Shamare and Suzuran herself, walking in circles on the area designated as the dance floor and talking about their clothes, because Laurentina had somehow managed to procure three small dress for them despite the short notice. Rather plain clothes, admittedly, and quite similar to each other too, not to mention that they were just a little bit too large here or too small there, but they were still something the huntress found more suited for the occasion than anything she supposed those three had in their wardrobes. Shamare wouldn't have bothered putting that on at all in truth, had Suzuran not been overjoyed by the chance of wearing matching outfits. Rosmontis, on her part, felt largely indifferent about that detail.
As for Rosmontis, she was chatting with Amiya, the cautus explaining to her why she wouldn't be playing the violin for the occasion. She had simply gotten too rusty and the idea of putting up an horrible performance in front of others didn't quite thrill her, especially in front of someone like Gladiia. The feline was slowly getting her to promise to pick it up again if she happened to have the time however, although she was doing so mostly unconsciously rather than by purposeful attempt. As for why Amiya had turned down the invitation to be the third dancer, that had do to with that one time she asked Kal'Tsit to dance and ended up almost breaking her ankle. It'd been years since then and Kal'Tsit herself didn't really think much of it, if anything at all, but the cautus had been left somewhat scarred by that little incident.
There were two more people still, and those were the ones whose presence had left Suzuran actually surprised. One was Executor, a sankta the vulpo found to be kind of cool and also a little scary, although she had never actually spoken with him so she refrained from making any real assessment about him. Vermeil's recollections about the sankta had also left her with somewhat conflicting images of him. Executor himself didn't seem all that concerned with the the event, but rather with keeping an eye on the other sankta present, a woman with black hair, black eyes, even her wings and halo were black. She seemed really amicable from the way she was talking with Executor, at least compared to him. Then again, that was... somewhat of a low bar to clear, let's put it that way. Suzuran had tried listening to their chat, in truth, and caught something of a complain about her instrument -a violin, as it turned out, with something said about a cello-, as well an observation about Executor being too strict with his controls. But she felt like she also heard something about missing Arts unit and loaded shotguns at some point, after which she decided to just stop eavesdropping because she clearly wasn't hearing things right anyway. But the woman caught her staring at one point and waved at her, so Suzuran returned the gesture.
Amiya then walked away from Rosmontis and towards the adults to exchange a few words with them too, while the feline joined up with the two vulpos.
"I'm getting a little nervous" Suzuran commented while walking in circles, her tails fluttering behind her.
"Do you want to go second?"
"No" Shamare answered Rosmontis' question "If you are not feeling at ease, delays will only make it worse"
"That... makes sense, yes"
"Now then!" Laurentina's sudden shout, together with a loud clap of her hands, filled the air as she walked up to the trio "Most people here seem to be rather busy with other matters so we'd better hurry, as much as I hate it" she declared "Have you decided on who will go first?"
"Ah, that's me" Suzuran replied as she lifted an arm.
Amiya waved at her from behind the huntress, while Gladiia simply stared in silence. That was a little bit unsettling, but Suzuran had almost gotten used to that somehow. Besides, the real reason behind Gladiia's attitude was the fact that the entire ordeal barely had a reason for being, other than Laurentina's whim and boredom that is. Regardless of such details, Rosmontis walked away from the modest clearing the group had designated as the dance floor while the two vulpos moved to its center.
"I just have to follow you. Right?"
"Right! Ehm, alright... in, out... "
And she started following from before the first step was even taken, because she didn't know how she was supposed to place her arms or keep her legs or anything of the sort and thus let Suzuran gently put her in position.
Then the music started, and for a moment the little vulpo got lost in the melody, in the string of notes gently following one another and filling the air. Shamare noticed this and nudged Suzuran a little bit, taking her out of the brief daze she had fallen into, her grip on Shamare's hand becoming a little firmer. Then she closed her eyes for a moment, her ears perking up as she listened to the music with less abandon.
Gladiia had told her that a dance -the sort of dance she was teaching her- was akin to a conversation, but a conversation required a subject, even a simple one would do. So, inspired by the music, she thought back to Popukar's birthday, one of the very, very few parties Suzuran had ever managed to take Shamare to. Popukar didn't really know her birth date to tell the whole truth, one day Catapult and Midnight simply helped her pick one for herself just so that they could throw her a party. But that's besides the point.
Suzuran's foot moved, her body leaned to the side, and her tails waved a little. Her other foot moved too, and then she took a third step. Shamare simply... followed, or did what she figured could count as following. Those motions didn't feel all that natural to her but Suzuran was surprisingly easy to follow, and so she did. She could see a soft smile on her face, and at the end that was all that really mattered. The melody they were dancing to wasn't a simple one, technically speaking, but the more minute intricacies of the score felt minor enough -courtesy of the performer herself, in truth- that Suzuran could kind of gloss over them, if only because she had a feeling trying to incorporate those into an improvised routine would get either her or Shamare to make a really bad misstep and fall, perhaps even together. And so she kept leading her along, almost but not quite ignoring the gazes fixed on her. She continued to dance, recalling all the funny things which had happened at the birthday party and trying to convey the feelings related to that day through her dance.
That didn't work, unsurprisingly.
Gladiia had told her that dancing was akin to conversating, and that was true, but only when the dancers were all Abyssal Hunters, or at the very least aegir. When they joined hands and moved together, they could truly express thoughts and feelings and concepts to each other in a way words couldn't quite match. The most poetic would probably describe it as a communion of the soul, and perhaps that would've truly been an apt choice of words for the most expressive of them.
But Suzuran had somehow conveyed something to Gladiia the first time they had danced together, a flickering spark of a faint emotion. The huntress had accepted to give her lessons only to see whether that had been a mistaken impression on her part, a warning sign of her senses beginning to break down, or not. It had come as somewhat of a shock, in truth, that the exchange happened again, although Suzuran herself still didn't seem quite aware of it yet. Gladiia had heard from Kal'Tsit that there were some ancient lineages on Terra with odd peculiarities. She could only guess then that Suzuran belonged to one such bloodline with a rather peculiar trait, one which perhaps allowed a deeper kind of connection than that ordinary people could achieve, especially there on the surface. The little vulpo had once mentioned something about her father being a sort of local spiritual leader in her hometown, and Gladiia could sort of see how someone with such a trait would end up in such a position in a land where nobody else could achieve that kind of communication. The consul would never have bothered giving the little vulpo lessons if not for that.
All of this to say that Shamare wasn't really feeling any of the things Suzuran was trying to talk about, and if Gladiia had to judge by the slowly increasing frequence of the vulpo's tiny mistakes then Suzuran herself was becoming aware of it.
That had been a mistake on Gladiia's part, the huntress figured. She should've better set Suzuran's expectations. Even if she could truly communicate in an unconventional way, it would still stand to reason that the one most suited to teach her how would be her own father. Gladiia ignored his circumstances, but she guessed that Suzuran still being too immature could explain why her parent had yet to tell her anything about the matter. That is, if the entire assumption was correct. But if nothing else, the vulpo was following the melody rather well.
"Alright" Laurentina herself spoke at some point, the loud clap of her hands breaking up the music and telling the musician to stop at the same time "Time's short, so I think we'll have to cut your display here"
"Do you want a break?" Suzuran asked Shamare as they left the makeshift dance floor.
"It's fine"
"Did you... like it?"
"... it wasn't bad"
"Ah! Then- oh, but... I know. Would you like to try again, once I've gotten better?"
Shamare bent her neck a little.
"You are the one who knows how to dance. Shouldn't I be the one who would have to improve?"
"But lady Gladiia can make everyone look like a professional when dancing with her, so... r-right, it's really arrogant of me to think I'll ever become as good as her, sorry... "
That's not what Shamare had meant but, even as her lips parted a little, nothing came out of her mouth.
"Young Suzuran" Gladiia then called out when the two had ended up walking close enough to her.
"Yes!?" the vulpo jolted, straightening her back and limbs "Was that... good... enough... ?"
"We will have a talk about your lessons when I have enough time. As for today's result, it's nothing you should worry about"
"Yes!" Suzuran said back, Gladiia's words and the tone she had spoken them with sounding at odds with each other and leaving Suzuran confused.
"You should go back" the consul then told Shamare "Shark's feline is waiting"
"Have fun!"
Shamare didn't reply at all to Gladiia and only offered a neutral nod to Suzuran before turning around and walking up to Rosmontis. Amiya, who had just finished talking with the two sankta, exchanged a few words with Rosmontis before getting away, leaving them enough space to dance.
"Is something wrong?" Rosmontis asked the vulpo, perhaps because even as they got close enough to almost hug Shamare was still looking at the air next to the feline's head rather than at her.
"No"
"Mnh"
Shamare made an effort to act the same way she had with Suzuran, if only because she knew Suzuran herself would feel guilty over it otherwise. Rosmontis looked at the floor as she took the final step towards her, moving her feet a bit left or right or back or forward as she tried to look for a good starting position. Out of simple feeling because, even if we truly wanted to call those ten or so minutes she had spent dancing with Laurentina a lesson, they had still been merely ten minutes. Still, that was the only experience she could use as a guide at the moment, so she sort of... tried doing the same thing.
The same thing, yes.
That was the first time Shamare felt Rosmontis' Arts enveloping her like that. It was somewhat like being covered in a light, slightly cold net of sort. Most people wouldn't even notice it, in truth, but the vulpo had the luck -or misfortune- of being more receptive than most people, at least when it came to such things.
She didn't like it. The touch felt light, shallow even, but it was nonetheless a sort of contact, and one she found decidedly excessive. They had yet to move the first step and that experience had already turned out to be remarkably worse than she had expected. But she had come that far already, backing away at that point would just hurt Suzuran, so Shamare simply grit her teeth -figuratively- and followed along as the feline started leading with both eyes closed.
From a technical point of view, the difference between Rosmontis and Suzuran was quite evident even to an untrained eye such as Amiya's. Suzuran had certainly improvised every step of her dance with Shamare and it showed, but there were undeniably some fundamentals in the way she carried herself and tried to move her feet and body following a melody she had never heard before. Rosmontis, on the other hand, gave off the impression of not really knowing what she was doing. But she didn't seem bothered by it either, which somehow resulted in her motions appearing more spontaneous, perhaps even more fluent.
As for the more subtle details, those were rather apparent to Gladiia and Laurentina. Admittedly, calling that a detail was not something Shamare would've ever done, but that was because it was a lot easier to figure out -to feel- from her position.
The truth of the matter was that, the longer they danced, the less Rosmontis was dancing with Shamare. Laurentina had already experienced it for herself, but Gladiia noticed it from the way Shamare's motions changed as time went on. They were getting more fluid, more synchronized with those of the feline, less awkward, but at the same time they didn't feel as natural as before. Shamare herself would say that Rosmontis had started dancing on her own at some point, her Arts feeding her informations about the vulpo's body wrapped under them and answering to unconscious impulses from her brain in turn, nudging Shamare's limbs the way she wanted her to. It was a gentle touch, surprisingly enough, one hardly anyone would notice, and those who did would find it tender and almost loving.
Shamare, on her part, almost felt like puking. But she held it in, for a series of reasons, and kept dancing along instead, or rather she kept letting Rosmontis dance with herself.
... it was easier than following Suzuran, that much was true. If only for her body.
"This is enough" Gladiia eventually spoke, the oddly dry sound of her fingers hitting the palm of her hand cutting through the air and stopping everything, shaking Rosmontis out of the slight stupor she had fallen into.
And as the words briefly echoed through the air, Shamare raised an arm and grabbed the air she so often gazed at when Rosmontis was present.
It just so happens that said nothing was, in fact, not nothing. Far from it.
Shamare had always seen it, since her very first meeting with Rosmontis, but she had also never told anyone about it. She had learned quickly that people couldn't quite see the same things as her. Nobody could see the horned, burnt blackness accompanying Ifrit, for example, or the black swirl always floating above Amiya's head, nor the molten creature following that red-haired sarkaz's sword. In much the same way, nobody seemed to be able to see the young feline chained to Rosmontis' head, one even smaller than she was. That one was a rather hazy figure, admittedly, and it had taken Shamare a while to even be certain that she was staring at a feline to begin with. But the way it would keep looking at Rosmontis as if it had something to say... that really annoyed her.
So Shamare reached forward and grabbed it.
Amiya seemed to feel something from Rosmontis when the ethereal figure she couldn't see trembled, when something inside the feline's skull pulsate.
The vulpo then dragged her hand back, shoving the immaterial presence into her own head, her body trembling. For a moment her legs gave out, the only thing keeping her from falling being Rosmontis' confused hold on her. Suzuran and the others were left a little startled by that weird behaviour but, perhaps because they couldn't see Shamare's change of expression due to her facing the other way, they didn't stop her. Amiya, however, was a little worried. She had a feeling something was going on.
The feline herself was feeling startled. Odd. ... unwhole, and yet herself. Like a part of her had just been dragged somewhere it wasn't supposed to be, but a part which wasn't quite meant to be hers in the first place. Shamare's arm moved back away from her head, following that connection only she could see, all the way to Rosmontis' head, and then her palm slid between the feline's ears.
"See?" Shamare whispered with a voice which wasn't hers, someone else's smile on her face "I told you you'd grow taller than me one day, Narcissa"
The feline didn't blink. She knew that voice. She didn't remember it but she still knew she had heard it before, she knew she used to hear it very often once.
"... brot-"
Then Shamare jolted. And coughed, a sudden, intense cough followed by a few others as the vague feeling of misplaced self Rosmontis was experiencing vanished, the vulpo's face turning back to her usual expression, or to its lack thereof.
"... that... "
Before the feline could finish her question, before she could even figure out what the question even was, Shamare brought an hand to her face. She had expected a sense of nausea to assault her from letting a deceased who still lingered in the world into her but, having never done that before, she underestimated just how sickening the feeling would be. But she didn't want to puke in front of Suzuran, so she turned around and ran away.
"Ah, Shamare?!"
Having no idea what had just happened, Suzuran ran after her, the two disappearing into the hallways. Amiya asked Executor to chase them, there was a chance Shamare's Oripathy was flaring up and that would require immediate treatment. Given the circumstances and the people present, the sankta accepted and ran after the two, leaving the custody of the musician in their hands. Musician who, on her part, seemed somewhat intrigued by whatever might've just happened and complained about not having had the chance to thank the vulpo for the performance.
With that sorted, Amiya herself walked over to Rosmontis, who hadn't taken a single step in the meanwhile. If anything, she seemed a little confused still.
"Ros, are you ok? Did something happen? ... are you... ?"
The cautus' voice shook Rosmontis out of her own thoughts, making her turn to properly face Amiya. She didn't seem to have noticed the water welling up in the corner of her eye.
"... I'm fine" she eventually replied "I think I'm fine. Thanks, Amiya, but you don't have to worry. That was... nice"
Amiya still had no idea what happened but, if Rosmontis was relatively at ease, she believed there was no need to probe into her feelings.
The sankta musician seemed content with just watching things unfold. Laurentina and Gladiia, on their part, were still standing there without quite interacting with anyone else.
"This is not quite what I had expected, no" the former commented while looking at the few pictures she had taken with the camera "But it was still a show, wouldn't you say?"
Gladiia held back a sigh.
"At times I wonder why I still indulge these whims of yours"
In response, Laurentina pointed the camera her way and took another photo, showing it off from the screen while putting her own smirk on display.
"That's because I'm oh so charming, my dear captain"
Gladiia held back something other than a sigh.
Suzuran was feeling somewhat dejected. Executor ended up dragging Shamare to the medical ward for a checkup despite her protests -who knows what the sankta was going through right now as a consequence of that-, and admittedly Suzuran had been glad to hear that her condition hadn't significantly changed from her last examination. Still, the fact that Shamare kept insisting that nothing had happened despite having decided to run away all of a sudden left a decidedly bitter taste in Suzuran's mouth. Rosmontis also said she wanted to talk with Shamare if possible, but she didn't seem angry or upset at all so maybe Suzuran was worrying over nothing?
She hadn't heard who won the competition between them either in the end, but she had never actually cared all that much about that anyway. Well, she was probably going to have to apologize to Gladiia on their next meeting, she had a feeling her instructor hadn't really enjoyed her performance, something the little vulpo did feel rather guilty about. It'd been an entire day and then some since then, and such thoughts had weighted on her nearly the entire time. She had decided to at least try and clear things out with Shamare the next day, so perhaps the best thing she could do at the moment was just go to bed early and get some good sleep in.
This plan died in its infancy when someone tried the door to her room, found it unlocked and walked in without even knocking.
"Morsel!" Lappland greeted, her sudden arrival nearly making Suzuran jump from the surprise "I've got snacks! Oh, and something to drink too"
"Miss Lappland, please knock next time" she said back, startled.
The lupo closed the door with a kick before making herself comfortable on Suzuran's bed, which was a somewhat rude thing to do without even asking for permission but the vulpo didn't really mind. Lappland then put down the two bags she had with her, Suzuran's eyes inevitably falling on those.
"Here, morsel. I've got a freshly-made treat" she declared with a slightly worrysome chuckle as she pulled a box from one bag and offered it to her "Made just for you!"
Suzuran's tails waved a little bit. Lappland was an excellent chef, but the vulpo had dinner a bit late that day. Not to mention that her dishes were really, really good, which was actually bad news for Suzuran as she'd been trying to watch her weight lately. Folinic told her she was just growing up but, for as much as she wanted to believe her, Suzuran had been keeping a watchful eye on her tails and she was positively sure those were getting a bit too thick, not the fur covering them but the tails themselves.
With all that said, the box Lappland was presenting her was quite small...
"Come on, morsel" the lupo pressed on when Suzuran herself didn't step forward, taking the lid off the box and letting the aroma roam free from within "I'm sure you will love these"
The alluring scent of fried dough and sweet cream immediatly reached her sensitive nose, the cannoli in full display in front of her tempting her, their aroma nearly making her salivate a little bit.
"A-awawa... I already had dinner, miss Lappland, so... "
"Ohy morsel, these are for me" the lupo pointed out with a chuckle as she placed her free hand on the left half of the box "You surely didn't think I'd just sit here and watch you eat by yourself?"
"... but you have done exactly that before... ?"
"You really think too much for your age" she said back, apparently more cheerful than usual as she grabbed a cannolo and took a generous bite out of it, the crunchy sound of the dough as it got chewed telling Suzuran that they'd been filled very, very recently, finally making Suzuran cave in.
"... well, if it's just a couple I suppose it can't hurt"
"Stuff yourself!"
"Geez, miss Lappland, that's not prope- ah, you're leaving crumbles on the bed!"
"Save that for later" the lupo pretty much commanded, grabbing the vulpo by a wrist and pulling her forward.
In the blink of an eye Suzuran found herself sitting on her bed as well, between Lappland's legs and with her back against the lupo's chest. A position the two had grown really familiar with, so much so that Suzuran had even moved her tails out of the way by sheer reflex to avoid accidentally ending up sitting on one.
"Here"
"Ehm, well then... thanks for the food, miss Lappland" Suzuran concluded before grabbing a cannolo and taking a modest sniff at it.
The filling contained ricotta, that much was a given, and she could smell a bit of chocolate and pistachios as well. That was the traditional recipe as far as Suzuran knew, which was exactly what she had expected from Lappland.
"Take your time savoring them, morsel" Lappland whispered right into her large ear, making it twitch a little "But don't overdo it, or the shell will soften up too much"
Gluttony taking over her, Suzuran finally bit down on the cannolo, the crispy shell crumbling under her teeth and the sweet cream filling her mouth, a smooth and slightly cheesy flavor enveloping her taste buds as tiny bits of chocolate added a crunchy feel to the muothful, the sweet aromas reaching her nose too, the flavor lingering in the back of her throat as she swallowed.
"So?" Lappland asked while munching on her second one, her other hand still holding up the box for Suzuran.
"It's delicious!" Suzuran replied happily, grabbing the second and last one and savoring that too, the crumbles of pistachio giving it a different flavor compared to the first one with chocolate crumbles, the vulpo silently being thankful that there weren't more, her tails would've definitively gotten fatter otherwise. Perhaps something other than her tails as well.
The lupo spent a couple of minutes just watching Suzuran taking her time with the sweet, casually tossing the box back into the bag as soon as it got emptied and using her now free hand to circle the vulpo's waist, something Suzuran herself didn't mind at all.
"Right, you can have this" she suddenly said as she showed the vulpo a little candy.
"Oh? Did you make this too?" Suzuran asked back, both surprised and confused as she grabbed the small paper envelope and opened it, smelling strawberries.
"I don't make candies, morsel, don't really eat them either. But you do, right?"
... well, just a small candy probably couldn't do more damage than a couple of cannoli, right? She thanked Lappland again and put it into her mouth, feeling it melt over her tongue surprisingly quickly and releasing the taste her nose had anticipated, although... there was something else too inside of it, a core made of a different ingredient.
"Now you might want to keep this at hand" the lupo casually remarked once the little vulpo had finished eating, placing the other bag in front of her.
"... miss Lappland, why do you- ahem... wait... m-miss Lappland, was there... ?" she sort of began to ask, fanning herself a bit with one hand as embers sparked to life inside her mouth.
"You know, morsel, I'm hurt. Why didn't you ask me to dance?"
"Eh? Ah! About that, you, no I mean... "
"Was that too spicy? Here, drink up" the lupo said with a slightly colder voice as she pulled a somewhat small bottle of water from the second bag and offered it to her.
Suzuran briefly thanked her for it before taking the lid off. Drinking straight from it was not something she liked, but the burning sensation inside her mouth was only getting stronger and she had a sinking feeling Lappland wouldn't have let her get up to grab a glass anyway, so she just drank the entire bottle one gulp at a time, the fresh water soothing her somewhat. Or so she thought, because the same moment the last drop left her mouth to head towards her stomach the spiciness reared its head again.
"Too spicy?" Lappland inquired as she offered her a second bottle, watching with something akin to curiosity in her eyes as Suzuran emptied that one too, albeith more slowly as by then she had gulped more than two liters of water already "This would be better" she added then, presenting a decidedly small bottle of what seemed to be yogurt and smelled like... well, Suzuran wasn't actually sure, the state of her throat was proving be too intense of a distraction for her to concentrate on anything else.
So she grabbed it and drank that as well, and admittedly that one proved a lot more effective than the water at properly extinguishing the fire ravaging her tongue, her cheeks and the back of her throat. Fanning her face a bit more still as the burning sensation abated, Suzuran leaned back against Lappland while feeling everything she had just drunk swirling around inside her stomach.
"Miss Lappland" she spoke as soon as she regained her composure, although her tails were still waving a bit around them "That was a competition and... well, how should I put this... I... I feared you might try to give me an advantage... ?"
"I'd have tried to trip you up, morsel"
"Eh?! That's mean!"
"Says the one who didn't even talk about it in the first place. I'm hurt, morsel, you know?" Lappland shot back, the blatantly melodramatic intonation of her words making it really hard to take her seriously.
"... I don't think you're truly upset, miss Lappland"
"I won't be anymore! In around... ten minutes, roughly"
That answer puzzled Suzuran, but a certain, physical urge presented itself before she could inquire about it.
"I'll be back in a minute" she said as she tried to get off the bed, only for Lappland's arm to not move at all from her waist, keeping her pinned.
"Don't worry about that. Come on, I wanna cuddle a bit" she said back, sinking her nose into Suzuran's hair to take ample sniffs of her and poking her large ears with her teeth, sending brief but intense jolts down the vulpo's spine, each one making her tails shiver a little bit.
"Ehm, miss Lappland, I... I need to go to the bathroom"
"I'm sure you do, with all the diuretics I put into that yogurt"
It took Suzuran a couple of seconds to truly process that casual admission and fully realize what was going on.
"... mi-miss Lappland?!" she shouted, her hands shooting between her own legs as the need to run to the bathroom grew more intense.
"You know how it goes. You clean my kitchen, I clean yours. You hurt my feelings, I make you- no, wait, that's not how that one went... eh, whatever"
Suzuran tried to push herself up again, her face quickly turning red from the extreme embarrassment as she pictured what would happen if she couldn't make it to the bathroom in time.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I've got a change of clothes here"
"Miss Lappland, please!" Suzuran shouted again as her legs frantically stepped on the floor, both an attempt at getting up and a reflexive reaction to the state of her bladder "I-I'm too old to wet the bed! And my clothes too! And I don't want to d-dirty yours as well!"
"Don't make such a fuss, morsel" the lupo replied, moving her free hand between Suzuran's ears to pat her head while taking ample sniffs at her fur "Oh, you smell a little weird right now. This aroma's not bad either though"
"I'm being serious here! This is-!"
"Oh, I almost forgot" the lupo interrupted her "You don't mind if I borrow your shower once you're done, right? How large was yours again? I'm not sure we could take one together given these" she asked while tenderly and somewhat possessively running an hand over the vulpo's tails.
"... miss Lappland!" she shouted back at a loss for words, getting only an amused laugh in return.
Suzuran would remember that evening for a very, very long time as one of the most embarrassing experiences she had ever lived. Not to mention that she'd spend the entire night trying to come up with a way to get everything clean without anyone finding out about it. The clothes were somewhat simple enough, she could just was them herself in her room, but the mattress and sheets ended up requiring... special measures.
Contraty to what the scene could suggest, Gladiia was not lazying around. She was sitting on a chair and leaning against the backrest almost to the point of lying down on it, with her hat pulled down enough to cover her eyes admittedly, but she was not taking a nap. She was mentally reviewing both her schedule and the last reports she had gone over. Her desk was currently empty, all documents either sorted away or tossed into the trash already depending on their content, her terminal closed and placed on the tallest shelf present. Her lance was lying against the wall behind her, well within her reach, its shaft collapsed on itself in order to be less cumbersone to transport.
Her not-break didn't last long, the sound of footsteps headed towards her reaching her from the hallway, together with a soft humming. Then came the familiar scent of her kind, of someone born far away in the depths. Soon after, the source herself walked in.
"Swordfish!" Laurentina greeted as she twirled around on herself to close the door, the sound of steel hitting steel getting almost covered by the huntress' words "Here you are!"
"And here you are too, shark"
"Are you mulling over the state of your little pupil?"
With her hat still covering her face, Gladiia allowed herself to roll her eyes at her subordinate's choice of words.
"Young Suzuran is an interesting oddity, but nothing more. I suppose that if I had more time and, perhaps, more specimens-"
"Now you're just being mean" Laurentina interrupted her with a chuckle.
"-more specimens" Gladiia continued, pretending to not have been interrupted in the first place "I would be somewhat interested in truly studying her case. As for you, shark" she added, lifting her hat and making eye contact "I take it that you've already abandoned the pretense of teaching that feline how to dance?"
Laurentina decided to not question any further Gladiia's reasons for giving Suzuran lessons. For the time being, at least.
"You see, captain" came the answer, Laurentina taking measured, elegant steps across the room as she spoke, her entire body waving softly like a calm wave "She's busy, more than most kittens her age. I believe she should be occupied with taking a nap together with Kal'Tsit's detachable spine right now"
... peculiar, if true. Which it most likely was, Laurentina was not one to lie so casually to her face. An half truth, maybe? ... currently irrelevant.
"You know, I had a taste of that lovely creature myself once" the huntress almost casually commented, her lips curling up into a smile as she leaned over the desk separating her from Gladiia "I wonder if the doctor herself would taste similar?"
"Unfortunately for you, Kal'Tsit is performing a surgical operation at the moment, and she has other commitments to attend to once that matter is dealt with anyway. I doubt she has any time to deal with your whims"
"Oh? And why do you know that, swordfish?"
"A pointless question"
"It sure is" Laurentina agreed, stepping back from the desk and turning around to head towards the door, only to turn right back around again "Ah, I was just about to forget! Here, captain!" she declared while pulling something from an hidden pocket and presenting it to Gladiia "For you"
At that point Gladiia decided to stand up. For good measure, we could say.
"What is this supposed to mean?" she inquired as she looked at the silver disc in her hand, its deisgn almost painfully plain, its size a fair bit too large for it to be a coin.
"I've been told that it's common use, here on the surface, to award people who rank second place in a competition a silver medal"
Gladiia looked up, her gaze moving from the so-called "medal" to the wide, toothy smirk Laurentina was showing off.
"Your voice is most definitively pleasant to the ears, shark. I won't deny that" she said, not really putting the offending piece of silver on the desk so much as just letting it fall on it "But between the statue, that farce of a dance event and today's conversation I believe you have made your request clear enough"
Laurentina leaned forward, hands held behind her back and neck bent a little to the side.
"And what would my clear request be, captain?"
"I believe I once told you what the fastest way to incapacitate an Abyssal Hunter without killing them is, have I not?"
"Ah!"
Most ordinary people wouldn't even have seen what happened. Gladiia reached for her lance and swung it, the blade cutting through the air fast enough for even the sound of the strike to get left behind. Laurentina chuckled, and by the sound of it she was truly, genuinely amused by the way her captain's blade had just cut her eyes. The wound itself was rather superficial admittedly -if only in relative terms- but still more than deep enough to blind her, drops of blood sprinkling around them.
Gladiia then changed her grip on the weapon, its shaft still retracted, and used it to parry the desk Laurentina had just grabbed and swung at her like it was a mace. The poor piece of furniture, however, took more damage than Gladiia herself from that strike, its structure bending in multiple areas under the pressure of the two hunters' raw strength, the fact that it was still in one piece most likely an indicator that the two were not being all that serious. Gladiia then stepped to the side a bit, grabbing the hand which had just reached for her and pulling it in instead. Silently pleased by the remarkable accuracy with which Laurentina had just aimed for her neck despite her temporary blindness, Gladiia pushed her against the wall with enough force to make her sink into it a bit, the wall itself bending from the force of the impact as something audibly cracked, a bit of blood coming from Laurentina's mouth. Having decided to return the attempted courtesy, Gladiia sank her index and middle finger into her subordinate's neck, her digits entering and leaving within less than half a second, blood gushing out from the fresh wound and from Laurentina's mouth as well.
The huntress, however, didn't seem to mind that at all, immediatly grabbing Gladiia instead and pulling her forward, enough to bite her. Laurentina's teeth easily cut through layer upon layer of cloth and sank fully into the shoulder, piercing skin and severing flesh, quickly making their way to the bone. The fastest way to get her off would've been to simply grab her head and pull her back and so Gladiia did just that, the sound of flesh tearing briefly filling the room as Laurentina took a sizeable chunk of her captain's shoulder with her, giving it a couple of quick munches before swallowing it whole. Gladiia took the chance to drag Laurentina away from the wall -in order to not cause any further collateral damage- and cleanly pierced her chest, the blade of her spear large enough to completely destroy Laurentina's left lung, making her cough up blood and entertaining her, the huntress' laugh loud and true, but also short-lived.
Gladiia then pulled her spear out, lifted Laurentina off the floor and slammed her down onto the desk -which had just then finished falling back down to the floor after Laurentina had let go of it a few moments earlier-, slamming her chest with the flat of her spear to force all the air out from the huntress' remaining lung. The desk had caved in twice through that, and it was somewhat of a wonder that it hadn't collapsed completely under the two impacts.
"Satisfactory" Gladiia commented, and while Laurentina could only manage to gurgle and spit blood the consul was sure she knew what she had just said.
The fastest way to incapacitate an Abyssal Hunter was not to strike their eyes. Laurentina was aware of that, and in fact it was precisely because she knew that she had expected a different kind of attack, making her react too late to the actual strike and getting her eyes destroyed. But she had still managed to avoid part of the slash, the resulting wound being shallow enough for her to have already recovered almost completely from it. Yes, she had always healed more quickly than most of her comrades. The following confrontation had been little more than a game, a play pretend of sort. Laurentina was currently exactly where she wanted to be, exactly in the condition she wanted to be in. She'd have put up a better resistance otherwise. As for the missing chunk of flesh from Gladiia's shoulder, the method had been somewhat crass but the results had to be aknowledged, that wound did limit both her arm's mobility and the amount of strength she could exert through it after all.
Without a word, Gladiia produced something from her pocket. Laurentina's sight was still blurry, but she nonetheless recognized the little gizmo and chuckled. It'd been quite a long time since her captain had last used one of those little toys on her.
Still silent, the consul stabbed Laurentina in the lung again, sinking her spear into her -and a little bit into the table as well- and pulling it out in the blink of an eye, blood sprinkling as she then placed the small device, black in tint, almost twice an eyeball in size and seemingly made of metal, on her huntress' forehead, pushing it down until the inner mechanism activated. Cold straps of composite metal sprang out, covering her eyes, running around her head and jaw, some even sank into her mouth. Then the straps latched on to each other and tightened, some barbed spikes even sprung forth from their underside, warm blood pouring from Laurentina's face as the contraption latched to her head, destroying her eyes again and preventing them from reforming. The huntress, however, was more concerned with the bits which held her mouth wide open, the structure keeping her from closing her jaw.
"Your voice is most definitively pleasant to the ears, shark" Gladiia repeated herself while grabbing both of Laurentina's wrists, the blood loss and missing lung preventing her from gathering enough strength into her limbs to put up any sort of resistance, even one meant only for show "But as for your words, I believe I have heard enough of them for the time being"
The consul then lined up Laurentina's wrists with the still gaping wound in her chest and pressed another little mechanism to it, rectangular in shape and rather thick. Rather than wrapping around her, however, this second one sprouted a few spikes which stabbed her again, piercing wrist, wrist, chest and coming out from her back, each tip then opening up and winding back until they hit her skin again, sinking into it a little but stopping there, effectively pinning her wrists in place while keeping her lung from regenerating.
A decidedly less elegant set of tools than those she was used to, but for the time being they'd have to do.
Gladiia grabbed her spear again and, pinning Laurentina down to the table with her other arm, used the tip of the blade to sever the huntress' clothes, from the neck down to her chest and then over her navel as well before putting the weapon back against the wall.
"I am surprised" she commented as she pulled the clothes away, tearing what she hadn't cut, her gaze fixed on the red-stained figure of her subordinate, the intense scent of blood filling her nose and making something primal pulsate to life in the back of her mind "You did put on a bra this time"
Laurentina spat out blood. That might well have been a spontaneous attempt at draining some from her flooded lung, or what little was left of it at least, but the timing and the intonation of the gurgle which had come with it clearly told Gladiia otherwise.
"Correct, yes. You have always had a good eye for such things" she continued, her fingers tracing a line along the frilly rim of Laurentina's once-black bra, a piece finely crafted and decorated "But I still believe Skadi appreciates such things better than I"
Circling the breast not pressed down by Laurentina's bound arms and stabbed through by the spikes, Gladiia allowed herself a few moments to appreciate the feeling of her huntress' chest under her palm, the loud pulse of her heart, the flow of blood through the veins and the way it spilled out of her, the stiffness of her nipple. Laurentina shifted in place, perhaps to push her chest out further into her captain's touch, and Gladiia hit her solar plexus to keep her from moving too much, a sudden spasm shaking Laurentina's body as more blood gushed out from both her pierced chest and her mouth. Had the strike not knocked what little air she had in her sane lung out of it, she'd have chuckled.
Gladiia then moved her hand down, her cold glove tracing a line across Laurentina's much too warm skin, sinking briefly into her navel and then moving a little further still.
"I admit it, Shark. I will enjoy this" she said as she steeled her digits and palm, the tip of her middle finger a mere hair away from Laurentina's skin "But not quite as much as you, isn't that right?"
Gladiia pushed her hand forward, tearing flesh and skin apart. Laurentina jolted, her body spasmed and contracted at the sudden intrusion, and so Gladiia leaned over her enough to move her other hand from her huntress' chest to her neck, pinning her down and further limiting her air intake, still without cutting it off completely.
"I believe it should be here" she commented as she reached for Laurentina's clit.
Not for the glans, that part was perfectly accessible from the outside, but rather for the part located right behind it, normally impossible to touch directly.
Other than the lovingly searing pain already trying to overload Laurentina's nerves -and failing at it, to be honest- a different kind of sensation shot through her as Gladiia's fingers found their mark, the consul tearing muscles and ligaments apart to reach for her target and tenderly caress it, almost paradoxically so perhaps, the glove still clading her hand making her touch feel especially cold.
Laurentina's mind briefly went blank when Gladiia pushed her hand a little further, moving past the clitoris' body to cup one of its crura and then sliding past them too to touch the vestibular bulb, fully swollen with blood to testify the huntress' intense arousal.
"Do stay still" Gladiia said -ordered- as she pushed Laurentina's neck down again, her other hand continuing to stroke the huntress' clitoris in a part which was not meant to receive direct stimulation, the nearly overbearing pain mixing with the unsettingly foreign pleasure quickly building up within her to bring her close to her climax already.
But Gladiia did have a bit of time. Not all that much, no, but still enough to afford savoring the situation. And so she simply stopped moving, feeling Laurentina's flesh trying to grow back and push the foreign object out, her ligaments trying to stitch themselves back together through her hand, the warm pressure and the blood pouring onto her palm and fingers with every heartbeat reminding her of just how alive Laurentina was.
And since the huntress' eyes were currently not functioning, Gladiia even allowed herself to smile a little when Laurentina bucked her hips, trying to rub herself against her captain's hand to get that small push she needed, the grotesque and yet adorable mixture of a blood-drowned, air-starved rattle and a moan filled with ecstasy leaving her parted lips.
"Patience, shark" she admonished her as she pulled her hand out at once, either not caring or not even noticing the blood the gesture splattered across the walls and furniture.
Perhaps because, at that point, it made very little difference.
Quickly going over the possible course of actions and swiftly picking one, Gladiia walked in circles around the desk, her eyes fixed on the way Laurentina's chest tried to rise and fall with every strained half-breath she took, on the way her head kept following her as if she could see her through her crushed, blindfolded eyes.
She even poked out her tongue at Gladiia for a moment.
Knowing that, for as aware of her spacial position as she was, Laurentina still couldn't actually see anything, the consul decided she had no real need to not roll her eyes a little bit at that. Not quite out of annoyance though, not under those circumstances.
"Just a little bit of patience, that's all" she said as she got in position next to the huntress' head, briefly testing her own arm to check how much strength it could exert with the shoulder's wound still not fully healed.
Having found her own condition adequate, Gladiia grabbed Laurentina's shoulder with one hand, her arm with the other and simply pulled, a single, firm yank which slightly tore flesh and strained muscles but, more importantly, dislodjed her humerus, making her body jump in response again, an almost equally pained and paradoxically pleased noise coming from her mouth.
That kind of injury would heal quickly, so Gladiia acted quicker still. She took up her spear once more and used it to make a wide incision on the huntress' shoulder, stabbed the weapon into the limb slightly above the elbow to cut the bone and further pin the arm down then slid her hand into the shoulder through the freshly cut opening, grabbing the humerus and yanking it out with a single, firm pull, Laurentina's body growing stiff for a brief moment as the sensation overloaded her mind for a split second.
"Pretty" Gladiia almost casually commented as she looked at the bone in her arm, in pristine condition save for the lower end missing.
She had no interest in the radius or ulna, not on that particular occasion at the very least, and the fastest way to ensure those bones wouldn't get pulled out together with the humerus had been to simply cut the desired bone short and severe its connection to the others. Somewhat surprisingly, however, it still looked like the extraction procedure had fractured them, because Laurentina's arm was not quite bent the right way.
"How are you doing?" she asked for good measure, a part of her thinking herself a fool when Laurentina replied by running her tongue over each and every single one of her teeth.
Nearly letting out a soft, amused laugh, Gladiia closed the circle around the desk by walking back to Laurentina's lower half, hooking a finger into her dress and fully tearing it in two, leaving nothing but her pantyhose and panties to cover her private. The amount of blood made it impossible to tell with just one's eyes, but Gladiia could smell Laurentina's excitement so well she could almost taste it.
... it was... pleasant, yes.
Gladiia then softly -relatively softly- hit the still open wound on Specter's lower abdomen with her humerus, twisting its head into the flesh as if to lubricate it with blood, drenching it even more than it already was, making her jump and tremble and cry and moan again.
"Don't trash around, shark" the consul equally ordered and repimanded as she turned the bone around in her hand, using the end left sharp by the earlier slice as a makeshift blade to rip Laurentina's pantyhose open, the sound barely audible through the huntress' excited vocalizations. Then she made an incision in her panties as well, taking a few moments to appreciate the black cloth's fine, elegant design before cutting it and turning the humerus back around again, aligning its head with Laurentina's privates. Gladiia leaned forward and over the huntress a bit, sinking her hand back into her flesh to hold her down.
Then she simply shoved the humerus in.
Laurentina's body trembled, her back bending into an arc as a rather oddly pleasant warmth shot through her. The bone's surface was rather smooth, in truth, but the mere act itself was stimulating enough to send intense shivers through her body, a pleased giggle clearly filling the room. Her body then twisted again as Gladiia brought her other hand back over the huntress' clit from within, cupping the vestibular bulb and pushing it down against the vaginal wall, making every trust of the humerus feel that much more rough and intense, her nerves compressed and set on fire with every back and forth of the bone within Gladiia's grasp, the consul's breath growing ever so slightly ragged at the sight of Laurentina bucking her hips and trying to move them at the rhythm dictated by her captain, the huntress bending an hand nearly to the point of snapping her own wrist off just to cup her own breast and fondle herself, her fingers sliding underneath the fabric of the bra, drenched with blood and sweat, and violently pinching the hard nipple hidden underneath.
To reward her for the amusing spectacle, Gladiia adjusted her grip on the humerus and started flicking Laurentina's clit -the part naturally exposed- with her index every time she thrusted the bone into her, enjoying the frantic up-and-down motion of her chest as she tried to breathe, the mixture of internal bleeding, crushed lung, intense pain and perhaps even more intense arousal, not to mention the blood loss, making it remarkably hard for her to get more than just a little air into her still functioning lung.
Gladiia slowed down occasionally, both to delay Laurentina's release somewhat and to give her time to actually breathe a little, but despite those brief interruptions the huntress still reached her climax, every muscle in her body, be it sane or damaged, growing stiff as her heart pumped more fresh blood into her veins, yet more spilling out from her still open wounds and trailing down into the bent desk, its surface made concave and irregular by its earlier, improper usage, the depressions formed into it having filled out by then, the crimson nectar overflowing from the small puddles and dripping down onto the floor.
At times, Gladiia found herself wondering how exactly Laurentina could make the sort of basic, primal noise she had just let out as she went through her orgasm sound so pleasant to the ears.
Pulling both the humerus and her own hand out of the huntress, making her body tremble yet again, Gladiia placed the bone down and wiped her glove on her cloak. A futile attempt at cleaning it, by all means, but she still liked the gesture. Then she bit the tip of her index and pulled her glove off before biting her digit again, this time directly, her teeth sinking into the flesh and quickly hitting the bones.
She walked around the desk again, her steps slow and measured, one for every three ragged breaths Laurentina struggled to make, the huntress' current appearance nearly making Gladiia forget of her commitment later in the evening.
Then she placed her bleeding index on Laurentina's tongue.
"Ah!"
The huntress smiled, even with her face in that state, and pushed her tongue up, coiling it as best as she could around her captain's bleeding index, taking in her taste, her scent, her jaws struggling against the cold metal forcing her mouth open, a slightly annoyed giggle escaping her as Gladiia ran her index over Laurentina's lips and then over each and every one of her sharp, crimson-stained teeth, following every shift and turn of her head in order to not allow her to cut her, the wound on her finger barely bleeding anymore already.
Then something broke. The sound of locks breaking and metal shattering briefly filled the room, swiftly followed by the much more unsettling, alluring noise of teeth closing.
A mild amount of disappointment ruining Gladiia's otherwise pure amusement -sturdy enough alloys were so difficult to fabricate on the surface-, the consul looked at her missing finger for a few moments before turning her gaze to Laurentina, who on her part seemed to be having the time of her life chewing her captain's index and then swallowing.
"Aaaahhhh, your flesh is... so tender and sweet... swordfish" she said after having spat out her own blood, her words interrupted by heavy half-breaths "Sometimes I almost... can't believe it's yours!"
"I did not grant you permission to speak, Shark" Gladiia shot back, her enjoyment of the situation perfectly concealed behind the cold, distant tone of her voice "Surely you are aware of this"
"What're you gonna do then? ... punish me?" she laughed back as best as she could.
Silently asking herself at what point Gladiia had come to accept that those kind of interactions between them were anything but a punishment for Laurentina's purposefully insolent behaviour, the consul stared at her. The little toys lodged into her eyes, lung and wrist were still preventing those parts from regenerating, but the other wounds' healing process was proceeding at a satisfying pace. So she simply grabbed her and lifted her up, putting her right back down on the desk but this time with her back facing upwards.
"Perhaps" she conceded as she walked around her again.
"I can't help but think that you're just enjoying my lovely figure here, captain" Laurentina teased back as she felt Gladiia's hand get a firm, ample feel of her butt through what was left of her clothes.
"Weren't you the one who said art should be appreciated at all times?"
"How -sweet- of... you!" she said back between one strained breath and the other, the enthusiasm in her words almost palpable.
Then, with no warning given, Gladiia moved her hand up to Laurentina's lower back and sunk it into her flesh again, purposefully avoiding her spine and reaching for the inner part of her clit again, grasping it with more strength than before, forcing another violent, bloody, hopelessly amused cough out of her. She pushed her fingertips against the root, the part of the organ where the nerves from its other areas met.
Laurentina laughed, moaned and shrieked all at once when Gladiia scratched that part with her nails, setting her nervous system on fire and making her mind go blank for a long, blissful second. The consul then waited a moment or two, perhaps even three, just enough to let the oh so tiny furrows she had carved into the clit heal up, to give the huntress a chance at drawing half a breath, and then she scratched it again, sending another wave of overbearing pleasure and blinding pain crashing through her body and mind alike, her muscles trashing around then stiffening up then trashing again, what little air she had gathered in her lung escaping her.
"What's -ah- wrong... captain?" Laurentina managed to speak as she pushed her hips up a bit "Does your hand hurt?"
"My hand is fine, your concern is unneeded" Gladiia replied almost casually, pinching the organ again, sparks going off inside the huntress' system once more "And you don't seem to be in quite that much pain yourself either"
And then she tore a piece off.
Laurentina's body nearly jumped, Gladiia's free hand coming down on her back briefly just to make sure she wouldn't fall off the desk, the slow, purposefully loud sound of chewing echoing inside the room as the consul savored her huntress' flesh.
"Pleasant"
"Don't give-" Laurentina began to say, a bloody cough forcefully stoppind her halfway through her sentence "-me such a cold -aahh- treatment now, captain" she almost sang, her lung contracting and expanding almost melodically.
"Don't overstep your boundaries, Shark" Gladiia replied after having loudly swallowed the small piece of flesh, an intimate kind of warmth traveling down her throat.
Then the sound of bones breaking, flesh tearing and skin ripping filled the room. With half of each hand not answering to her will due to the butchered state of her wrists, Laurentina quite literally threw herself at Gladiia, the desk bending further under the strength of her push, her arm closing around her captain and pulling her in, their lips meeting, lips and something else, the consul simply allowing Laurentina -and herself as well- to enjoy that brief contact, that intense kiss, the intense smell and taste of blood flowing into her mouth and then mixing together with another one, identical in nature but different in source.
"Now this... is more... fair, don't you... think, captain?" Laurentina said with a wide grin once she was done swallowing.
Gladiia casually brought one hand to her own mouth to check the damage, and as she had expected her lips were missing completely.
That was probably a rather unbecoming sight.
"Correct. However, shark, this has never been about fairness" she replied, holding her up with one hand and placing the other over the not quite yet closed hole in her lower abdomen "Do clean this mess up when you awake. I truly don't have the time for it"
"Now don't be such a- !"
Gladiia interrupted her by shoving her palm back into her wound, making Laurentina spit blood through her smile again as she closed her fingers around her clit.
And then she crushed the entire organ with a single, swift motion before ripping it -or what was left of it- out of the huntress, the shock proving to be too much for her already strained nerves and making her faint at last, pure ecstasy filling her mind before it went blank. Gladiia waited a moment, then two, and only lied Laurentina down on the table after having confirmed that she had truly fallen unconscious. At which point she took a look at both herself and her surroundings while eating the small clump of flesh which had once been one of Laurentina's organs.
... cleaning that would be a real bother, one she was not at all sure Laurentina would actually deal with. There was blood everywhere, as well as some bits and pieces of flesh and skin alike, even a few fragments of bones. And that was without mentioning the damage to the desk and the wall. There was a good chance someone would even file a noise complaint about the entire ordeal. And their blood wasn't all that easy to wash away, for the matter.
Failing to hold back a small sigh, the consul decided to start off by pulling the spikes out of Laurentina's chest and remove the metal straps from her face, allowing her body to fully heal. That would take a while, but the huntress was not in any real danger, Gladiia had avoided all vital parts. As for what exactly counted as "vital" for an Abyssal Hunter and what didn't, that would be its own can of worms.
What time was it again? Not early by any means, the clock told her, but not late yet either. She decided to turn around and walk into the bathroom -her office had a private one- and take a long shower.
Soon after the door closed behind her, however, another one opened. Not the one leading out into the hallways but instead that of a cupboard normally used to store documents. And out of it came Shamare, one hand gripping Morte, the other pinching her nose in an attempt at shielding herself from the overbearing stench of blood filling the air, a small bag hanging from her shoulder.
The gruesome scene in front of her didn't really bother her. She had seen something similar one of the first times her Arts had activated on their own after all, back in her hometown, although the mess she was looking at right there was admittedly worse. Besides, her divinations had told her what would happen there, even if just broadly, and she had previously cast her Arts on both Gladiia and Laurentina so that neither would notice the fact that she was hiding inside the room while also making them subconsciously avoid hitting the cupboard she had snuck into. That had... still been kind of dangerous, in truth, but whether Shamare failed to realize it or simply didn't care, one could only guess.
Stretching herself a little, her limbs numb and her back aching from all the time spent in that tiny space, Shamare opened her bag and produced another, smaller bag from it, an hermetic one made of plastic. She took a pair of disposable gloves from there and put them on, then a roll of cellophane which she ran around her shoes and ankles, taking care to wrinkle it under her feet to make it harder to slip up. Finally, she grabbed a plier, dropped bags and Morte down on a clean piece of furniture and walked over to Laurentina's unconscious body, staring at her open mouth and deciding which teeth to pick. Without touching her, she pointed the plier at one tooth, then another, and then another still. Those... really didn't look like a person's teeth, she'd say. Shamare herself was no expert but, to make just one example, she was fairly sure canines and molars weren't supposed to be as similar to one another as those she was looking at. But she wasn't there to ponder about the huntress' weird physique so, having decided on which teeth to pull out, she moved the plier forward.
Then the huntress' hand shot up to grab hers, the grip soft and yet unshakeable, the sudden contact annoying Shamare rather than startling her.
"You... I recognize you. The third dancer, aren't you? I wish I could... praise your performance, but I fear the best I have to say about that is that you... proved functional" she said, taking some breaks during her sentences as her lung hadn't really had time to heal yet "Amusing nonetheless though, if only a little. Tell me, have you seen steak as of late? Are you two still... at each other's throat?"
Shamare didn't like "steak" as a nickname for Lappland, but she didn't quite hate it either. She just found it stupid, if anything.
"Let me go"
"I could, surely, but... oh" Laurentina said with a soft giggle as her fingers clumsily explored Shamare's hands, her digits still not quite answering properly to her will "Now this is... quite funny. What were you... planning to do with this?" she asked once she had figured out what the vulpo was holding.
Shamare's right ear twitched exactly once. She didn't like that situation at all but, seeing how she had gotten herself into it knowing that something could go wrong, she refrained from forming any strong thought about it. As for her hand... Laurentina was much more difficult to suggestionate than Specter, especially with physical contact already established. Not impossible, probably, but hard. As much as it annoyed her, simply talking it out sounded like the most reasonable option.
"Extract a tooth"
The huntress laughed, and a bit too intensely if the blood she coughed up was of any indication. Shamare didn't move at all, but her gaze was fixed on her own hand. Had some gotten on her sleeve?
"I'm in a gorgeous mood right now, little walking oddity, and I suppose I should still show at least some appreciation for your contribution to that little competition. So" she said, her hand closing more firmly and guiding Shamare's own towards a tooth, closing the pliers on it and casually pulling it out "I suppose I can give you this, I won't be missing it for long anyway. But you should prepare better" she warned as she let go of her "That little bunny with the eyepatch might be able to pull a teeth from my mouth by force, but you surely can't with these tiny arms of yours. Amuse me a little better next time, will you?"
Shamare didn't answer, silently walking back to her stuff instead, much to Laurentina's disappointment. Morte, which had gotten up when the huntress grabbed Shamare's hand and back down once she let go of her, sprung to life again to hold the hermetic bag open. The vulpo slowly removed the plastic wrap from her feet and took off her gloves, careful to not get any blood on herself as she stashed them into the hermetic bag, their disposal to be taken care of later. Then she inspected her sleeve, which thankfully had remained clean. She'd have cut it off otherwise.
"Have fun with that" Laurentina casually said as she heard the door opening and then closing again, no answer coming her way once more.
Left alone, the huntress wondered whether Gladiia truly hadn't heard anything. The sound of running water from the shower surely wasn't enough to make her deaf to what went on in the next room over, after all.
Then she laughed as she noticed something. Namely, the fact that everything which happened after the consul entered the bathroom and before the vulpo left had somehow completely lost her interest the moment Shamare had closed the door behind her on her way out, to the point she even mused whether the entire sequence was worth remembering in the first place.
Oh, what an silly little creature, that one, unpleasant and yet amusing at the same time.
As for the tooth itself, it's not that Shamare truly needed it, no. But it would make that night's ritual much easier and, in particular, faster. Not only was her target also a set of teeth, but she also knew for a fact that Laurentina had bitten that lupo at the very least once in the past, there was a connection she could exploit there.
And so Lappland ate nothing the following day as, from sunrise to sunset, the lupo suffered from arguably the most fulminating, painful but also shortest case of toothache ever recorded on Rhodes Island.
That did not amuse her.
At all.
Thank you for reading.