[b]Mirror[/b] [u]To Valentina[/u] Valentina de Alcard has never felt anything like this before. She stiffens when she’s pulled down, all surprise and wide eyes. She almost resists, there’s a moment of tension in her muscles. She’s not a woman used to be treated this way, the whole evening has held that sense that she’d rather be the one in charge, but then that’s also why she was so intrigued in the first place. She had not expected to lose her match. So she lets the tension go out of her and lets you work. Mostly. She can’t quite relax all the way. The sense of eyes on her is too strong, she cares too much, even as you work across her body, to completely relax. A part of her mind is on everyone else, everything else, trying to predict the future and the consequences of this moment. It’s only a small part though. She wants this very much. Her body wants this. Each nip of your teeth sends a shudder running through her. Her back arches, her shoulders pull together as the waves of ecstasy run through her and she can’t stop herself from leaning into them. When the kiss comes, it’s too much and not enough all at once. She doesn’t understand, she wants to be devoured. She doesn’t understand, she wants to recover and pose for someone else. She doesn’t understand, so she doesn’t move. She allows the chaste kiss, and for a brief moment her confusion is so intense, so complete, that she really does forget everything else. She’s just there, she’s feeling every touch of your lips, her tongue, curious, carefully touches those lips but does not press further. Just far enough to taste a bit of her own blood, and the softness of it leaves her in ecstasy. She stands because you help her. She moves because you move her. Your words, too fast for translation, snap out and pass into her and she’s there but she’s behind reality. She’s working on a lag. Later, maybe. There will be more later. But you’ve already walked off. [u]To Crescent[/u] Crescent never tries to resist. She realizes what’s happening and she is impressed all the way into awe. You’re showing her something here, about how your attention works, about how much control you have, how much space there is in your mind, and how skilled and delicately you can move your tail without even having to look at what you’re doing. Crescent brings herself close to Solarel, never touching, precisely as guided. From the frills of the dress, up the neck, and over the face oh so carefully. Close enough to create the feeling of phantom touch, but never ever breaking that perfect line. She breathes hard, her eyes are intense, focused. She’s concentrating, never blinks, not even once so long as that tail is holding her. She’s taking in every bit of this, trying to sear it into her memory. She wants this for…herself? No, for someone else. The hunger isn’t there for her, but the desire, the value is. When the words come out, Crescent mouths each one. “"Eyes. Wait. Soon. Reward. Obey. Misjudge…Dreams.” She’s going to hang on them. She’s going to puzzle over each one, almost as much as Solarel might. When the tail finally releases, she brushes a paw on it lightly but longingly, leaving just a bit of her scent on the fur at the tip. But she says not a word, and then you walk away. [b]Solarel[/b] There’s a little movement to do once Mirror walks away. Crescent checks you over delicately and carefully, ensuring that you have a clear, straight, and unobstructed view of the stage. She’s working efficiently now. No coyness, no toying, just obeying Mirror’s instructions. Her touch is careful, delicate, and skilled. She considers smalltalk. Decides against it. Gets the job done instead, settles herself into a seat across from you now, instead of beside. When your legs recover, she won’t stop you from leaving, won’t even be in the way. When she’s all settled, she does finally speak. “I guess we don’t have much compared to that” she says, letting out a long breath and relaxing a little. “I still have an offer for you. Here.” She slides a tiny piece of neural mesh across the table to you, enough to hold a short memory impression, little more than a still image and perhaps some location data. “If you ever decide that you need Zaldarian technology and you don’t want to deal with your new empress, take a look at this.” Content, she leaves it on the table by your hands and turns her attention to the show. She’s not even looking at where you might put it. *** [b]Isabel[/b] “Linterna?” Asil chuckles, nervously though. “What the fuck am I supposed to do about them, huh? It’s not like they reveal their lines in advance, not unless you work for them.” She tries to shrug, doesn’t quite carry it off, she’s too nervous and cares too much to really manage nonchalance. “I hope you didn’t call me over just to tell me you’ve had buyer’s remorse.” She sighs, puts an elbow on the table, leans a hand into it, and doesn’t wait for you to answer, just launches into it leaning forward like that. “I’m being a dumbass. You want me to pitch you, right? This is a sales thing. Alright, sure. I came here to show my stuff to the best people, like you. I think it’s good enough. More than good enough! What I’m doing with the drones, Linterna doesn’t have that, they’re just doing cheap neural tech and enhancers. My tech might not have their polish, but it’s got more potential than they could dream of in their fancy high rises. And I did it with just me and a small team of techies. We don’t have four hundred people to polish it off and do all the seams, just me, one seamstress, one patterner, and two techs. You give me the kind of backing that lets me actually do polish and I’ll you show something really special.” She turns her head then, glances at the Zaldarian designs, riveted. “Or, just think what I could do with a little of that. How about a few hundred micro-drones, mix the best of new and old. Oh yes, I could do some amazing stuff with that.” That last one’s probably a better pitch than the actual pitch because she’s really dreaming. There’s a head full of ideas there. Creative in everything she does. Everything~ *** [b]Dolly [/b] Angela’s chatting now, a little with every dress. She’s impressed by the Zaldarians, especially the canine outfit. “Wonder how you’d like to be on all fours?” she asks. And “wonder how that might affect piloting, what if the neural interface could be reactive differently, shifting over the body, changing how it delivers feedback as the pilot needs it, maybe with a more complex AI directing it?” She’s a smart one, not just piloting a simple mecha with nothing going on. She’s also getting comfortable with this arrangement. You’re stuck, she gets to hold you close in your wrap, tell you what she’s thinking, and you squirm and moan a little and have rapt attention for the show. This would be perfect if not for the fact that Jade is still distracted somehow. And for the fact that several of the Hybrasilians at nearby tables continue to stare and hide their grins. They seem to have settled on the explanation that you’re just into this and were hitting on Angela and got what you wanted. They’re just smirking about it, you can feel it even from the ones behind you. Mayze’s show is about to start though, and that’s going to be an exciting one for sure. Pity Jade’s still distracted, hopefully she set this up to record for her later review at least. [b]Jade[/b] There’s a flurry of quick chats and hand signs again. The Zaldarian, Marik, doesn’t seem to think that he’s allowed to address you, and instead he’s trying to correct things with the engineer. After a short burst, Nine Forests speaks again. “Marik wishes to apologize. He indicates that he was concerned that we would destroy his offering because of its suspicious nature and wished for your [blessing of protection]. He also tried to explain that Zaldarians have a different relationship to their gods, one in which they more clearly negotiate terms before making an offering. He begs forgiveness for his misstep and makes his offering freely. He says that he will remain and receive any blessing you would now willingly give.” So there it is then. He wants to be well-received, did the best he could, followed your directions now. At least mostly. He’s waiting on your blessing, but then again he’s also waiting to watch what the engineers do with the data stick he handed them. Perhaps if they tried to destroy it, he would leap up, seize it, and flee. Awaiting your blessing is a good excuse for that, as well as perhaps sincere. Not that you necessarily know how to read a Zaldarian, but it makes some sense that when one can speak directly to a goddess, one wouldn’t assume their blessing was received until they stated it was so. [If you want more of a read on him than this, you’ll need to roll] *** [b]The Fifth Fashion Line by Mayze Serpaws[/b] Take it away, Mayze.