[b]Yuki![/b]

The Nagi princess makes faces. Several of them, actually. The kind that an honest girl can't help but pull when she wants to say something but is trying to keep it buried. And, to her credit, she doesn't prioritize herself, or argue with you, dear. Not when you're like this. Instead, she cups your chin and makes herself say: "I should have enough time tonight to, to rent you out a suite. You can stay in! You [i]and[/i] Eclair! And then by the end - if you haven't gone to bed - we can stay up and talk about the ball and wait for news that Aadya's been a great big hero, and maybe I'll even bring Hazel along, and there won't be any need for talk about chosen ones, not here."

She smiles. It's a little strained, I must admit. You're not the only one who's coming loose. That connection with Hazel, that one magical moment, and now she's swept to the side like a worm trying to evade Purnima hassling her for a rematch, hoping that someone else doesn't steal his heart, wondering what happened to all the gifts she tried to send him during the reconstruction efforts, trying not to think about the fact that Eclair is a wanted criminal, trying to be good.

She wants you, one way or another, Yuki. She wants time with you, to scheme with [i]you[/i] instead of having you run off behind her back to scheme with Karn-Pana, to flop onto you and go limp after she's [i]crushed[/i] the ball and figured out a way to make Hazel all hers (romantic, possibly; pet, possibly).

And she's [i]trying[/i] to be good.

[hr]
[b]Eclair![/b]

You wake up with your face plastered against Nagi tummy, and in this moment, for just a moment, you imagine that you are snuggling with one of your mistresses again. That you have been plucked from the Order, based on the arcane whims of dragons, and that you are a doll snuggling with a vast presence that [i]loves[/i] you. That you can hear their contented rumblepurring, that you can feel the way that they have wrapped around you, that the weight of a great paw has you pinned to the ground, that you are here and you are loved and it's [i]your[/i] turn with snuggles.

In this moment, for just a moment, you feel love, don't you?

This is important. It will be on the test.

[hr]
[b]Handmaidens![/b]

Well. That's a plummeting Rurik. There's an obvious problem, isn't there? And he was doing so [i]well.[/i] Someone should definitely catch him, if there's anyone among you who happens to be able to fix an obvious problem like this. After all, Heron's certainly not going to come do it for you. That being said... well, the employees of the Chrysanthemum are rather capable. Why, there's one saving the Golden Fawn just now. I'm sure that they'll be able to pull out an emergency sex trampoline if necessary. (This is the Chrysanthemum. All the regular trampolines are in storage right now, since the Great Phontasia's carnival routine is on hiatus.)

But it's likely not going to be Sayanastia, because she's once again the subject of attention. What do you call the definition of insanity, darlings? And here she is trying once again to storm Civelia's party and make it all about her, struggling through shining azure chains that can't quite seem to hold her back, but--

"Enough," the Khatun declares, seizing the Dark Dragon herself from behind. "Enough of [i]dragons.[/i]" She is a huntress; of course she knows how to wrestle. She rams her heartblade through Sayanastia, and then pulls her into a suplex. And though she grunts and has to pick herself back up afterwards, she still suplexed the Dark Dragon. And she [i]laughs.[/i]

Heron doesn't laugh like that. Not like [i]that.[/i] That's the cackle of someone who's enjoying herself for the first time this evening. Someone who has been wanting to do something like this all night.

Mark a Condition, once again.

But I can't give you a complete disaster, can I? All right, then, a little nudge from me, a little twist: Aria Thendragon stomps over, still trailing toxic smoke, and tries to shove the Khatun off you, Sayanastia; her teeth are bared and her eyes are alight with fury that someone [i]else[/i] is getting the opportunity to put you in your place.

So, naturally, the Khatun tries to stab her heartblade through Aria's eye.

As they squabble, the Dark Dragon has a moment for the ceiling to stop spinning and come up with plan B...

[hr]
[b]Hazel![/b]

You are [i]counter-swooped.[/i]

One moment you're plummeting down to the ballroom floor, and the next moment someone's got a firm arm around you and you're swinging rather perpendicular to the whole falling thing which was going on, and you get a view of all the fighting that's starting to break out, once again, over [i]you,[/i] over you being the most special boy in the whole world, and how did Yuki manage all this?

And then you're jumping over a railing, onto a carpet, and hustled into a familiar cafe, and someone is pushing a spiced apple cinnamon cider into your hands.

"We've got a moment before everyone comes trampling up the stairs looking for you, I think," says a familiar voice. You look up, disoriented and befuddled boy that you are, into the beaming, indefatigable, relentless smile of Alcideo, who is not going to let you get overwhelmed in [i]his[/i] holy temple to the pleasures that Heron shares with all Vespergift. "Do you need more of a breather than that, Cutie?"

...the cider feels good, doesn't it? Its heat is radiating through the cup and into your sweaty palms in a way that I am very certain are bringing back memories from Yukisearth. I have a nose for these things, and so does Alcideo, and we both know that there's definitely something here.