[b]Solarel[/b]

“Sure, yeah, I can work with that. In fact, this will be fun.” Crescent smiles and licks her lips, showing you her fangs. They’re thick and long, and you have just enough time to catch the metallic gleam of what seems like some slight strengthening from nanobot technology before she plants her paws into the bench and hard shoulder checks you into the wall.

It’s relatively lucky that The Jungle has such a strong Hybrasilian aesthetic. If this wall had been all concrete or metal, a part of your body might have broken and even if it could have been regenerated with nanobots it would have really hurt! Instead, you’re slammed into a wall of hanging vines and ivy, which still fucking hurts but not in quite the same debilitating way.

Crescent is taking advantage of the power of Hybrasilians in personal combat though. Being a head shorter than you, she’s got a low center of gravity and that lets her rebound like a gymnast from the hit and have her balance faster than you. You catch a glimpse at your cores before she goes in for a punch to the face, claws out. She’s fought Zaldarians before and not just at long range like your mecha fight, she was checking to see how your energy was doing and whether she needed to brace for an explosion. 

Oh, one other thing before you hard launch into a fight here. If you wreck the place or disrupt the show, you will be escorted out of the building by a lot of guards, important pilot or not. No seeing Mirror or the Hybrasilian designer tonight if that happens. 

So, response to this?

***

[b]Mirror[/b]

“I…I…” Valentina’s breath is hot, intense. Definitely the first Hybrasilian she’s ever kissed. You can tell she liked it, the way her tongue brushed your lips. She wanted more, wanted you. She’s so unsure though, and you can see the way her mind is going. There’s an internal decision happening there, a woman who’s getting tired of feeling that unsure.

“Yes” she says and means no. She looks like she wants to kiss you again. Stands up instead. Straightens her back. There’s a blush in her cheeks. She wants more. She wants to know what your tongue feels like. In her mouth. And in other places. You’ve got something over her here, but she’s not falling all over herself, not yet. Honestly, it’s impressive poise all told, you’ve seen trained huntresses that would collapse into a mewling mess over less than this. But not this woman. Valentina de Alcard has pride and she’s going to hold herself together through the fashion show come hell or high water. After though, get her alone and you could curl her into the palm of your hand. 

[Take a string on Valentina de Alcard]

You watch the stage for a moment. The next house is starting. Murasaki from Shiki. They’re an odd one. They don’t incorporate any modern technology into their designs at all. All traditional techniques, hand-sewn embroidery and stitched long robes. The most sophisticated piece of tech that goes into their designs are tools powered by electric motors. They manage beautiful lines though. 

There’s something else odd. You’d drifted with Valentia a bit further from the stage, you’ve still got two shows to get back, but you notice that there’s some kind of fight in a booth near you, a Hybrasilian Tigress going after a tall Zaldarian. Almost looks like Solarel in fact, though the light is dim in the booth and the glint of pink scales and a very feminine cream dress don’t particularly speak to you of the former Zaldarian champion. 

***

[b]Dolly and Jade[/b]

Angela’s eyes go wide for a moment. She stares. At you, at your paw, the bodies close, the softness over her face, no sharp claws of any sort, but that pressure. And you call yourself the jackal for your huntress, isn’t that something. She doesn’t know what to make of all that, your impish tail curling around. And then Jade cuts you off and oh no, oh no, that face, that glare building and building. What…what’s she going to do?

And then she has it. Angela humphs and grins, so wickedly. “You are through then? Your goddess does not wish me to know anymore? Fine, little imp, you clearly cannot be trusted to sit with me by yourself.” With one hand, Angela pulls the tablecloth clean off the table near you all in a swift motion, the oval vase of pink flowers in the center barely shakes. Then she’s got her hand on you, and the linen cloth is over you. First over that arm, the one with the mesh, she knows what that looks like, she’s a pilot! She knows you didn’t touch her, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t dangerous, and so arm first, pinning it to you safely wrapped in cloth. Then around, pulling your legs together tight, so the knees touch, and up over the tail too. Now, only now does she pull your arm from her face, you silly kitten. She’s pinning you, wrapping that arm against you too, tight to your side, pulling you into a cocoon of tablecloth. You pulls it once more around your whole chest, pressing your breasts in, you can feel the constant pressure of the wrap against them too, and then with a final cinch she pulls it tight and knots it about your back. 

“Mm, now, now we watch the show, little Dolly. Murasaki is my favorite. You’ll tell me yours when it’s done, aye? Assuming your goddess permits you speak again before the night ends?” Then she hefts you over one shoulder and positions you to look out over the railing with her. They’re showing silk robes with beautiful designs on them, embroidered with trees and flowers you’ve never seen before from a planet you’ve never visited. 

So, good luck moving now, enjoy the visual treat. How are you both feeling about all this?

***

[b]Isabelle[/b]

Madame Toldeo looks only slightly stern at being fetched by your attendants. She expects this to be worth it, she’s a busy woman and the showing of expensive dresses takes a great deal of logistics. Every model must be at the top of her game, must show the fabric and the make and the design to its fullest. Many aren’t used to the traditional fabrics from Murasaki of Shiki on display here either, though you’ve seen them before, they are popular with a certain kind of elegant upper crust on TC Prime.

But anyway, the point here is that Emidio is very ready to take notes and Madame Toldeo is impatient and would be more than happy to snap even you in half if you’ve wasted her time. 

Also, a word of warning to you. Adriana Teresio is a woman of style. Sponsoring a fashion house would get her attention because it is a declaration of style. You would be a patron of the arts, the prime model for their work, beautiful, powerful, and therefore valuable. Sponsoring two houses is a show of extravagance, but you can’t just wear two competing designs at the same time and expect to look good, you need aesthetics. You’d better have a plan for putting your two choices together into something new, something really spectacular. If you don’t, this might backfire on you. 

So, what [i]is[/i] your plan here?


***

[b]The Second Fashion Line by Murasaki [/b]

Murasaki of Shiki is all about the classics. They’re showing a mixture of long dresses, kimonos, and court robes with wide sleeves. They emphasize pinks, blues, and purples interlaced with gold and silver. Embroidery on the outfits is focused on Shiki: local flowers, birds (real and mythological), trees and mountains, the bright sun of Shiki setting over water. 

The thing to understand about them, as Mirror has already noted to herself, is that the work of Murasaki is all low tech. They make their dresses with classic sewing techniques and locally grown or raised fibers. The most sophisticated they’ll get is a sewing machine powered by an electric motor. Patterns are hand drawn and hand cut, the artwork hand-stitched for the most part, perhaps a bit of machine stitching if you look very closely. No nanobots, no projectors, no neural mesh, nothing hovering or doing weird light shows. Just classical beauty. Murasaki has nothing to prove, and the house’s line is them exalting in their planet and its unique beauty. 

The crowning piece is a dragon robe, a long gown with wide sleeves depicting a mythological beast from Shiki’s tradition (and a shockingly high number of other places it seems, giving some credence to the theory that celestial dragons are a real sort of being that roams deep space). This robe is in bright pink silk fabric, and it is decorated with a pattern of gold and silver waves that run across from the shoulders down to the waist on both sides. Rising from them across both sides of the chest is the great dragon in gold and some kind of precious green gems woven into the fabric. Its mouth is open and a roaring red gout of fire blows forth from it in triumph towards the sky above. It’s quite the sight, and it sparkles and glimmers with every step of the model, who carefully waves her hands so that the sleeves sway and shimmer in the light but never obscure the dragon.