Anarion

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Mirror

As you finish the fight, Valentina respects you by turning on her comms. You can hear the sudden gasp of surprise as you take her, and the grunts as your strikes connect, never hard enough to cut her off. And then most satisfyingly, the murmur of pleasure as your work continues that lets you know that she’s enjoying being dismantled just as much as you’re enjoying doing it.

When you have her pinned down at last, there is a pause as she simply breathes. Then the comms crackle one last time with her deep voice. “Well fought, Hybrasilian warrior.” You can tell by how she says it that she’s not as studied in your culture as she wishes she were, there’s that tiny hitch that lets you know she paused on “warrior” not quite knowing how to properly address you, but she’s shouldering on.

“I surrender, and I’d like my reward in the post match evening. You’ll be attending the fashion show on Akar Prime, I hope? Would you allow me to…accompany you to the show?” Again, it sounds like she almost asked you to be her date, but then switched it at the last moment in light of your win here.

There’s a juicy XP in it if you take her, despite the complications of your other identity also showing her dresses in the show.

***

Solarel

You’ve short-circuited poor Nierka for certain. The boop is the moment where she just can’t maintain the righteous fury any further, and instead she’s suddenly a cadet pilot being trained by the imperial ace from all those years ago. You can see it in the features, in the way her face changes, in the stance of both Nierka and the Sea Spike itself even as it finally recovers its balance. She wants to hate you because she’s supposed to, but she also had years of admiring you first, of wanting to be just like you. And now here you are showing her up, showing her a way of fighting that’s equal parts genius and sacrilege to everything she knows and you got her with it.

This is, perhaps, a lesson you already know all too well. Combat is a psychological battle first and foremost. If she truly had the will to fight, all her wits about her, and just a hint of creativity, what she could be doing here is commanding her own god to put resources into rapid sealing the cockpit as though you were experiencing a hull breach in space, cutting off your tether and then turning all weapons full force via AI autopilot on the Bezorel. If she did that, even if you overpowered her within the cockpit, your own ability to fight would be lost and you’d be stuck alone against Nierka and all the resources her god can direct within its own AI core, a losing fight even if you briefly got the upper hand.

But that’s not happening because her mind isn’t in the fight anymore. She’s embarrassed, shy, and more than a little dazzled. And so rather than risk this immediate defeat, she taps her fist twice and discharges her remaining power through the floor and away from you. A sign of surrender. And thus does the match end, all cameras on you and your blade as the Bezorel circles her. You probably didn’t expect to be standing on the top again, but for a brief moment here you are.

How does it feel?

***

Jade

Angela Victoria Miera Antonius is defeated utterly, completely, and without a doubt. But she has one last little trick in defeat and you might find it interesting as you work. For such an old mech chassis, she moves so well, so naturally to your touch. She protests as you expected, but so too she squirms and she shudders. The groaning metal contrasts with the imagined softness of the pilot within, even though you know through the indignant crackling of the speakers that she still fights you. It is a special delight and pleasure to work your magic upon such a subject as Angela Victoria Miera Antonius.

You claimed that you wanted to teach her to move like one of your worshippers, but as you carve the new name you’ve decided befits her mecha, even as she protests and you cut off the sound, you wonder if she could move that way already. You wonder if there was more here than you got. You wonder if she held back in this match or if her training was deficient somehow and if only she could let the natural instincts of her body take over, as they are so clearly doing now, whether she has much greater potential within her.

This is a tiny little wonder, a distraction in your triumph, barely even something worth registering to Dolly who you are busy entertaining as she properly deserves for her performance. But you have this wonder all the same and it won’t quite leave you alone.

How does that leave a goddess for her departure?

[Angela takes a string on Jade.]

***

Isabelle

She growls. She yowls. She curses through the comms and tells you all the myriad ways that you were sired from whores, and gosh she’s really going to do a lot of things to you if you ever manages to have you alone and tied up without diplomatic immunity. Things with whips and chains and, well, she’s just going to keep going on about this but her heart isn’t in it, especially as you press your hold and she can feel the pressure arch through her body, to hold and lock her arms in place, make them start to tingle and burn.

And so, at last, Jacinta six burns out with you on the top and taps out with a final “fuck you, your mother, and your family!” even as she signals her defeat. So there you are the victor, cool calm and collected against an opponent who lost her temper and lost the match with it. The headlines will be all about the TC heiress who kept it together under fire. Sure, some of the more keen analysts will note your moment of naivete, but they’ll praise your flexibility and creativity and offer their assured confidence that you grew from this match and have the potential to go far.

It’s very nice being on top, isn’t it? Being the heir ascendant. It probably never even crossed your mind how enjoyable Jacinta six’s tender ministrations might be in the right circumstances.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

The question of what to do with Lotus was a difficult one. Giri was still on the hook to deal with the problems of the two lovestruck demons in some form or other. She found herself up ahead of Three Gleaming Petals, but with no particular desire to move the goddess off of her. She'd gained information and comfort, and she needed to think, which she could do just as well without waking her partner. Poor thing had really had a run of it anyway, she deserved the sleep.

So, help the demons through their problems without setting the world on a course of destruction brought on by the demon general. That...well actually it didn't sound that terribly hard, it was really just helping counsel a confused maid into coming to terms with her own self. And the other one, probably needed to just talk to her and get more information. The magic part of things didn't even come into it. As for Lotus, again that was harder. It depended quite a lot on what Han and Lotus wanted, as well as what Red Wolf wanted and the circumstances. If they were caught red-handed trying to escape like fools and Giri was ordered to summon a local spirit to get in their way she probably had to do that under her the terms of her punishment, especially since she had no reason to believe that either Han or Lotus would be mistreated in the Red Wolf's care. But, if she had good information about how Han would behave, how Lotus might behave and thought it better to offer them the Dominion's mercy, she felt she had the right to make that decision. Or to happen to have made herself busy with something else serving her new lady while they were busy. Unless she has orders to the contrary, her practice is still her own. Still, she didn't like thinking about intentionally undercutting Agata, not when she knew better which was always the lot of witches in these things. And she rather thought that it might be worth some captivity to keep Han and Lotus together, Han would regret it forever if she let the girl get away without saying how she felt.

That whole train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt when the ship struck sand. There was a thud and a jarring sound, but oddly they didn't go falling over. Three Gleaming Petals didn't even wake up right away. If the ship ran aground, they should have stopped but if they didn't get moved that meant something was wrong. Weird and really wrong.

Giri gently settled Three Gleaming Petals onto the mattress as she began to stir and rushed out to the deck in just her dressing gown, the sound of earth being carved away drowning out her pretty jingling collar.

There she was, helming the ship. Ms. innocent "I'm just a clerk" heavenly spirit. It would have been the easiest thing to run up to her in anger and clash. The easiest thing in the world. But Giri had just had quite a night, of time to think, of time to feel satisfied, of comfort and friendship and really quite a bit to consider about how that collar had ended up on her neck. And this, this magic didn't add up not even for an inscrutable heavenly spirit of Venus.

No, this didn't add up and a Rakshasa was on the loose. Maybe not even here, but on the loose and that was a power that made things not add up. She needed to stop and think about this before running up to the girl and trying to shake her out of her reverie. She needed to know its nature. And she might need the help of the dragon-blooded eventually, but for now, she could do her own thing, with her own blood this time.

Giri doesn't have a dagger or her sword, so biting her own finger will have to do. Blood drips from the wound, and with it she chants her offering. To the Fair Folk. To the people from outside the world, the stage hands of creation. Show her who's really pulling the strings here, she needs to know.

[Call upon a Toxic Power: 4+3+2=9. It will answer Giri's question, but it can take something, cause a Condition, or get a string on Giri.]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Isabelle

This is going to be one for the highlight reels. Jacinta 6's feral growl fills up the comms, but you smoothly sidestep like you were dodging a bit of dust or falling rock, and then you've got her. She struggles and twists, but your grip is strong, and you can feel that strength coursing through you in the form of your own empowered gauntlet. It feels like nothing could stop you, like you can mold the world however you want. EMP pulses collide in a crack of white light, smoke, and the smell of ozone, and with that the claws on Jacinta 6's mecha are crushed and worthless for the remainder of the fight. You smile with your victory and you offer her honorable surrender. In this moment, you are the height of nobility, grace, and poise.

Now, if you were cutting the clip for the highlight reel, this is where you would stop. Because the thing that you have forgotten in this fight is that the opponent you're holding is an angry cat and she has claws everywhere. With a wordless snarl, she wrenches her own arm in your grip (that had to hurt, good chance it's completely useless now and her own arm inside the mecha probably just went completely numb within her neural mesh). She uses that momentum to kick off the last remaining bits of the tree branch and send a foot to connect with your stomach. There is one more EMP claw in those foot talons, and it cuts right past your shields and makes you feel rather like you just got kicked in the solarplexes. The branch snaps the rest of the way and both of you fall.

You shouldn't let this take away from your victory though. This is an act of angry, snarling defiance with no regard to true victory. Even as you crash to the ground, your grip never breaks and you've still got a firm hold on her, nor is the kick really threatening you with decisive damage. It's just that what went from a cool, suave, noble victory is now going to be nothing but kicking, snarling, and fighting until she can't move anymore and that's pretty frustrating for how you wanted the match to end.

How do you finish her off?

[Jacinta 6 inflicts the Angry condition on you in response]

***

Solarel

"Listen here, Traitor. First, you disrespect this contest. Then you disrespect my god, and now you disrespect Zaldarian culture!"

She's trying to figure out how to get around to you, but she's also still recovering from how hard she was being thrown and you're moving in a way that her god hasn't ever dealt with in combat. She probably could have just started attacking the Bezorel in earnest, flames be damned, and ignored you in order to cut off your strategy, but she's not thinking straight. You've thrown her.

"I will not let this injustice stand!" A hand tries to grab for you and misses as you use the flame-empowered momentum and your pick to hurl yourself upwards. The Sea Spike flails again and tries to stand up straight and regain its balance as the Bezorel circles it.

"Your depravity knows no bounds, traitor! I will defeat you for the Empress!" She's trying something different now, bringing her own longspear around in a circular cut that's designed to hit you by cutting all the way up her own leg, the shallow surface damage be damned.

Every camera drone from the twilit jungle has flown out and they're doing their absolute best to zoom in on you without getting in the way of the match (which is programmed into them as an absolute imperative, nobody wants to invalidate a result or lose expensive camera equipment to a stray explosion). Every Zaldarian watching the live match right now is focused on you, Solarel, as you ascend an impossible mountain. So is Nierka.

You get this one free moment before her own mecha AI points out how dumb she's being and that she could just blow up the Bezorel at close range. Make it count.

***

Mirror

You can't hear it, but the audience gasps. A planet away in Keoni's Tower, a fisher cat is proudly being handed money by a collection of huntresses gathered by a screen at the highest table in the tower. "She should have gone for the finish immediately" grunts a tiger with an annoyed pout. "She's gathering data idiot. You should try it sometime" the elated fishing cat responds as she counts her new stack of coins.

You're really going to let her take this shot though, huh? You're lucky. She doesn't trust it any more than the audience does, and some part of this seems to offend her honor. She comes over the comms for the first time this match. It crackles once, and you hear her deep baritone voice whisper out "you can't be serious" before it clicks back off. She's been all business, but she wanted you to know how she felt, and perhaps understand a little bit of why she took a fast shot in response and not a fully charged, fully prepared shot.

The shot itself hits hard. You're lucky you don't control with a neural mesh, this is the kind of hit that can shock someone and throw off their reactions even if it cuts off before they'd experience pain. Instead, you get a frontrow seat to an arc of purple light that snaps out and turns all the colors negative for a moment as it impacts the arm of the God Smiting Whip. An arm that now has a hole in it. The shot cuts clean through it and for just a moment, you consider what could have been if she'd gone for her strongest, slowest hit, imagine it hitting the cockpit and knocking you out completely, blowing through your mecha all the way to the crystal core. It's terrifying.

And then it's done. The heat dissipates, you're still there, and it was all over in a flash. You've got the cooldown of her weapon and an opportunity, but you cut this much closer than you might have realized and you might be playing this bit of data back over for a while.

[Take the Afraid condition]

***

Jade and Dolly

You dance through a storm of fireflies. It would be harrowing if it weren't so beautiful. Both of you together feel the swaying, the heat, the gentle caress as the bullets fly so close. In the light of the flames, each one shines like a little molten spark of gold, and you sway with the wind and the flames as you avoid the assault. The motion is natural, a perfect dancer as a goddess of steel. Crowds would pack a stadium just to watch a dance like this without even the combat contest.

"No. You. Do. Not!" Angela speeds up her tracking, the first autocannon continuing to make you dance as the second picks up its pace to lead you. But it is here that you begin to spin the spear, bullets flying and deflecting until the throw, when latches itself to her shoulder and cuts off the fire from the second autocannon.

That's what speeds things up for you because with just one cannon to dance around, you can control the pacing, you're only fighting one AI at once, not two, and that makes beating out its prediction algorithm child's play. You know you can get close. Close enough to hug. Close enough to cut. You just need to dodge one more thing, that last moment when Angela will give up the fire and switch to her last-ditch wristblades. Navigate that last hurdle, and the match will be yours.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Dolly

"Ai, Ai! You insult me! You offer me mercy?!" Angela's voice comes over the comms as the hum of the gatling guns mounted on her suit's shoulders fills the night. Air flying off from their rapid spinning makes the torches dance in mad gyrations. "I won't let you make that mistake twice!"

A hail of bullets fills the air. Angela understands that Jade could in fact dodge, and her pattern is not to fire both guns directly at her target. Instead one gun is aimed straight for the chest and the other is leading her target matching Jade's leading shoulder.

Without a doubt, Jade's offer of mercy has made your opponent angry and she's letting loose with everything she has using her advantageous range. Jade (and Dolly!) you're going to have to do more than duck to get past this hail of bullets! After Angela's closeup and a sweeping shot of her guns warming up, the cameras have all turned to you and how you'll handle the situation! Show off some dancing!

***

Solarel

"Aaaaaaah!" screamed Nierka as your hand suddenly grabbed her by the throat within her cockpit! "AAAAAAAAAA" screamed the Sea Spike's internal AI, expressing its opinion on the sudden hull breach using a series of klaxons. "aaiaiaiaiaiaiai" screamed one of Nierka's smaller spirits animating some aspect of her coat on her person and trying to wrap itself around your arm to no avail.

The camera drones, structured to capture the full sweep of mecha combat, are all rushing to get a closeup of this personal combat happening in the middle of the duel. Lasers are still flying thick through the air, some from the Sea Spike, some from the Bezorel. This trick was so unexpected that you might have had the whole match right here. Nierka is flailing and screaming, but you've got her. Except for the poor, unfortunate challenge of Culture. The Bezorel really does have a limited tracking system and it's still following you. And now you're in the cockpit. An errant laser strike, still active, blows past your current angle and hits directly onto Nierka. Her flailing becomes more animated and spreads through the Sea Spike itself, which begins gyrating, the screams of its AIs and its pilot spreading louder. The sudden and intense centrifugal force finally breaks your grip and sends you flying out of the now backwards tilting mecha. You land on an upraised knee and you find yourself clinging on for all you're worth as the Sea Spike topples and pulls the attached Bezorel with it.

Don't suppose you've got a backup plan?

***

Mirror

There!

At the head of the river, where it begins to slope upward towards a small hill, you can see the Lonely Star! It's well-positioned: it's been painted a deep purple-gray that blends with the stone and the water. If you weren't above it, seeing it stand out in contrast to the glare of the sun upon the river's surface, it might have been extremely difficult to find before getting shot. But you see it!

With your sudden burst of speed out of the canopy, you've turned this into a game of reflexes. The Lonely Star's long-barreled laser rifle (longer than the mech is tall) was pointed down the river line, but she saw your flare as you burst from the canopy and she's already brought it around and is lining up her shot. You hang poised like a diamond of fire, the sun's rays the only protection left to you as she finishes her calculations and your own tail gun pivots.

The fight may not end on a single shot, but whoever makes the quicker draw here will have complete control of the tempo and an overwhelming advantage.

***

Isabelle

Look at all these collapsing quantum realities. Jacinta 6 snarls an angry snarl over the comms and rushes you. But just that has dropped the myriad of options down to only two: fake Jacinta or holding back Jacinta. There's no gatling rush, no insane pinwheel top of lasers and fury coming at you. This Jacinta is all in on the more classical close combat. Claws pulsing with an arcing electromagnetic field extend from both hands of the mecha and her engines roar to life as she tries to hit you hard in a straight line without any thought to her own safety.

Also, you may be wondering how you know all this. It's because those claws and that engine are chewing up the trees and vines beneath you, which you realized the second you heard the thrusters roar to life. You're going to want to readjust your position ASAP!

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giri takes the rum bottle and pours out two more shots, one for Three Gleaming Petals, and one for herself, which she sips lightly rather than down all at once. "I'll happily tell you that I'm serving a punishment for harming one of the dragonblooded against her will to get a group of us out of hell. I think it's fair all things considered. I'll tell you that any rules of such a punishment by their very nature must take a secondary role to the rules of my calling and the oaths of friendship I have made in the past. I obey the Red Wolf only insofar as she pushes me to betray those I cannot betray and if she's not a fool she'll never use me past that line."

She offers the glass invitingly to Three Gleaming Petals. "But that's the driest way for us to converse and you look like you've had an even longer day than I did. Come, sit, drink. Lean on me and pass the night. I have no need of this bottle of rum come morning, and the Dominion hardly seems to have a shortage." She grins then because, well, isn't this a time to grin? To share some pleasure?

There's something special about a spirit like Three Gleaming Petals, and something special about a witch like Giriel Bruinstead and they both know it. They've both been around the block, and they both know the limits of a relationship like this. So Giri's offer, it's not just pleasure, it's relaxing. The kind of relaxing that comes with two people who've both traveled, who've both seen things, done things, even shared a bed before. It's knowing that this is a chance to unwind for both of them. No expectations of passionate romance, of strings attached or long-lasting obligations to carry around as yet another burden. No expectations even of what has to happen. Just a chance for two ladies who know each other to sit and chat, to drink and feel the fiery warmth of the alcohol swell up inside them, and to share that warmth in each others arms. That's a nice offer, and to Giri's credit, more seductive by far than trickery and false flattery. It's sincere seduction, the kind that gets everybody a little bit of what they want, eyes wide open about what they're doing. Well, wide open until they sink into someone else's soft chest and strong arms of course.

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Mirror

You bring the God-Smiting Whip out from a small cave where you were deployed and take in your surroundings, nine tails searching for any threats. Heavy rainforest. You’re in the wettest part of the biome. Huge leaves and vines hang from the trees over multiple layers. Perfect cover, but the ground is a wet slog to move through and a careless flight will snag your tails and give away your position. There’s a river system nearby with an open canopy and bright sunlight reflecting off it, but you’ll be exposed if you venture into it. No sign of your opponent. She could be right next to you or miles away and you wouldn’t know it.

Here’s what you do know. Pilot matchups are announced a day in advance to offer some time for mental preparation and planning. Your opponent Valentina De Alcard pilots the Lonely Star. She’s a new pilot, not known in the scene, but you know she’s an independent originally from a consortium planet called Alcard (you don’t know all that much about TC naming, but being the same name as a planet you’re from probably means that you were one of the first people there, so maybe she’s from an important family or something?).

You might have been to Alcard before if you’ve been doing fashion work in the Consortium for a while, since it’s a stopover to reach both the Outlast and Nadir systems, but you may have just flown past it. It’s not a very big planet and it has a dim sun, but it’s rich in rare earths and manufactures good munitions.

All you know about the Lonely Star from the new pilot info you received is that it’s relatively small even for a gen 3 mecha and that it favors ranged weaponry. You can guess that being so small probably means that it gave up hull space that could have been used for a variety of weaponry and defenses in exchange for being able to put the maximum possible energy from its crystal fire drive into one gun (and possibly into speed now that you think of it).

So, how are you starting off your match?

***

Solarel
Today has been a rough day.

First off, you woke up late and immediately saw that your opponent is another Zaldarian. You’re going against Nierka Stalok, who pilots the Sea Spike. You met her once before leaving while she was a pilot in training. She seemed enthusiastic and high energy back then. Now, she’s a hardcore loyalist for the new Zaldarian Empress Naelkai II, and all she’s really got on you is that you’re the villain and she’s the righteous hero.

So that sounded like waking up to a fight where you’re going to get yelled at a lot for being a traitor without much listening. Then to make matters worse, one of the mechanics bumped into you in the prep hanger and you ended up blowing a hole in the wall next to him that didn’t repair itself so that probably left you a bit spooked and feeling drained before you even got in the cockpit.

Also, your current mecha is also a hunk of junk (does it even have a name?) and syncing yourself with its body makes you feel slow. Not exactly slower than normal, but you’ve experienced the top of the galaxy in Aeteline, cursed though it was, and it’s really hard for “normal” to compare to that sort of high.

When you come out, you’re on the sunset side of the planet, casting everything in deep reds and oranges. The rust tone actually reminds you a little of home too, as many a Zaldarian is naturally this color. Nierka isn’t trying to hide herself at all either. She’s come out of her spot near a small lakebed and is moving herself about ten meters in the air to stand clear and lit by the sunset, her own rust-red god seeming to meld with the light as she shouts a challenge over the comms.

What in the Empress’s name are you going to do?

***

Isabelle

Well, this is awkward. Your matchup is with the famed pirate queen Jacinta Niares, leader of the Red Band Pirates. Except, only kind of maybe. You see, Jacinta is very very wanted. So wanted that even with the protection and diplomatic immunity extended to participants in the arena, she would need to worry about idiots taking a shot at her anywhere she went if her location were publicly known.

It seems, however, that she really wanted to enter this tournament and so she got a lot of people to enter the rookie round under her name. So you’re up against Jacinta Niares number six. Which could be the real pirate queen. You don’t know! It’s also possible that Jacinta herself hasn’t entered at all and plans to take the spot of any of her proxies who advance. Or that statistics just aren’t with you and she’s off elsewhere being Jacinta Niares number eleven or something. But you have to consider that you may be facing off against the famed pirate queen and her berserker gatling style, so you need to be on the edge of your toes here.

Just think about the jokes that the girls back home would make if you get wiped out in your first match. It wouldn’t even disqualify you, but it sure will set the tone. Even if you advance later, it will be “oh Isabelle, I heard your nerves got the best of you,” “Oh Isabelle, try not to trip coming in,” “Isabelle, everybody says you’re slow out the gate, but don’t worry big sister’s got your back!” Before you got in the cockpit though, Luca, Tadeo and Carmella Lozano all gave you a big hug and hopefully that support is carrying you forward as you go in here.

Speaking of going in, you’ve got a dual puzzle to figure out for your match, both identity and terrain. If you really are against Jacinta and her mecha Roar, you need to figure out how to engage without getting blitzed, but you also have to consider that this might not be her and it might have a different loadout (Roar is extremely custom, you’ll know once you engage seriously if you got the real one or not unless she intentionally holds back and throws the match). The second part of the puzzle is how to work this complexity through the terrain. You’ve come into the arena already up high through an elevator that dropped you into the middle of the second canopy layer seven meters in the air. The upper trees are light enough here that you can see the daylight sky partially obscured, but no sign of Jacinta number six yet, and no way to know if she’s above or below you.

She does, however, come over the comms with a voice that sounds like it comes from someone very muscular: “come and get me little mink!”

What do you do?

***

Dolly

Jade absolutely set you up for this arena. There is no way, absolutely no way that this is a coincidence. You cannot come up with any other explanation for why your combat zone would be a stone village cleared out of the forest, in the middle of the night zone, lined with ritual torches along an open if mossy causeway almost ten meters wide that leads to a stone dais set above a reservoir. Almost exactly like a scene in a Hybrasilian pulp novel, in fact. You may or may not even have written a story that used a setting like this for religious rituals…or sacrifices.

At least the stars are beautiful here. You can see both Akar Prime and Akar Secundus high in the sky above you, Akar Prime looking like a gray shadow sprinkled with lights, and Akar Secundus with a slightly red tint to it as it reflects the light of Akar’s older sun. Beside them is a vast sea of stars sprinkling the sky. You’re near the Cerulean Belt here, nearer than you’ve ever been before, and you can see how it got the name as it offers a blue tint like water filled with diamonds to the night sky in a long wide slash of the horizon. It makes you think of old stories about hidden treasures on planets deep in nebulae and signs of the distant gods from ages long past.

But there’s no time for thinking, you’re exposed out in the open like this and you can see your opponent! The Barn Owl, piloted by Angela Victoria Miera Antonius deployed on the opposite side of the causeway. This is actually a really advantageous range for her, not too far away for her guns, but not so close that you can instantly close. The torches paint a clear target too.

You know, if you had time to think, this might make you even more suspicious of Jade. She had expressed disappointment yesterday when you drew an opponent who was piloting a modified gen 2.5 TC mecha instead of the newer gen 3s. The Barn Owl is blockier and less pretty than many others, and someone craving the greatest challenge the Arena has to offer probably wouldn’t look here to start. Though if you underestimate Angela, she’ll surprise you!

So, how do you start your match?

Huntresses of Hybrasil

Welcome to the universe of Hybrasil! Named after its civilization of what turned out to be cat people because the idea of huntresses in space-faring suits of armor was the first thing that inspired me to the setting.

Main setting doc

Hybrasil is a sci-fi setting in which various alien civilizations explore the universe, vie with each other, and find love through the medium of small high tech mecha suits outfitted with outrageously high energy generation, hyperdrives, and top class weapons and armor. There are three major factions: the Hybrasilians, a group of cat-like humanoids who hail from a tradition of sacred hunts and advanced biological sciences; the Terenius Consortium, a large faction of loosely allied human-like aliens who focus on interstellar mining and increasingly on technological innovation and entertainment media; and the Zaldarians, rapidly expanding tribes of techno-organic beings who live in the shadow of more sophisticated precursor technology.

This particular game (run using the Thirsty Sword Lesbians system) is focusing on a group of ace pilots competing in an intergalactic arena setting representing their factions against a myriad of others. The winning faction and the winning pilot gain fame, fortune, and have their desires granted (in the faction's cases usually in lieu of having a war over things).

The setting imagines that people in mechas and other spaceships can travel freely from star system to star system, but not necessarily all that quickly, so that exploration from one side of the galaxy to the other is time consuming and risky, but traveling to one or two neighboring systems is a normal trip of a few days each way, most of it spent safely in hyperspace.

Here's a crudely drawn map of the galaxy

This game focuses primarily on the Akar system, which has become the site of the Arena and, being the closest and most real time viewing opportunity, also an interstellar melting pot of the civilizations.

Why mechas?
Well first off, they're cool. But second off, people pilot humanoid-shaped armor suits in this setting because of two things. One, the super cool sci-fi energy generation doesn't scale up without doing weird and exotic things to nearby matter that nobody really wants to tangle with so small ships have the best combat potential because of all the spare energy not used for moving a bunch of heavy stuff around. Two, the piloting tech for the vast majority of pilots is a direct neural interface and so they get better results out of piloting something shaped like them than by trying to pilot a big floating regular geometric shape.

TSL: The Excess of Flowers

Giri smiles when she reads the prayer strips as she slips into her bunk. Ah, what do these petitioners imagine? Do they think that she'll simply say a few words, perhaps burn a prayer strip and magically everything will be better? Without even being present with the witch whose help they need? The dominion must have some quite odd ideas about magic working for this to be the norm.

But still she smiles because these are sweet petitions from people who are unhappy and after all isn't that what Giriel Bruinstead had dedicated her life to addressing? Now, granted, neither petition seemed obviously remedied by magic (where were all the people who just needed a potion to ease sore feet when you actually wanted the work, hm?). No love potion ever advertised actually worked after all, and Giri suspected that the discontent writer needed something more than her body changed by magic to address her problems.

Besides which, she had some suspicions as to the identity of her petitioners, especially the second one (on a barge like this, with the Red Wolf on the prowl, finding someone hopelessly love wasn't so much a needle in a haystack as it was hay in a haystack, which did complicate that matter).

But it was also late and the petitions were in her nightrobe after all, so discretion was being requested. More discretion than, say, walking across the prow of the deck wearing a jingly jangly collar and asking after who might, perhaps be frustrated with unrequited love and need a witch's aid. No, the thing to do here was to ask the local gods about the matter and go from there. Perhaps, if she were lucky, she might even get some insight from Venus herself. Well, some kind of lucky, when it came to the goddess of love, it was often hard to say if her attention was good luck or bad.

Well, Giri supposed she was opening by burning a prayer strip, but that didn't mean things worked how people thought they did. It just meant it was a good first step and that the gods liked incense. It smelled nice, and consisted of a clear offering, so that was hardly surprising.

Giri's bells jingle as she bobs her head and her nightrobe flutters loosely in the humid air of the river. But she focuses, and perhaps it is her calm amid these things that brings the gods to her door, calm themselves. She will smile when they arrive and offer the prayer strips and ask what news she ought to know about of these matters.

[Giri communes with the unseen, offering a string to the local gods however they may use it. She rolls a 6+2+2=10. She would like to learn the recent history of the prayer strips she found in her nightrobe and also learn something important from the gods, which can surely be merged together into a general explanation as to what's going on.]

Huntresses of Hybrasil

All furnish’d, all in arms;
All plumed like estridges that with the wind
Baited like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May,
And gorgeous as the sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
-Shakespeare, History of Henry IV, Part I

Among all the stars in heaven, there is nothing quite like the feeling of sitting in the pilot’s chair as you start a mecha. The power of the crystal fire races through the machine, causing the metal to thrum deeply with it. The feeling rises up through a pilot, starting in the legs and the thighs and surging through their chest, until the heart wants to beat in time with it. The systems come to life and the pilot receives a rush of data. It feels like growing, or perhaps like the world shrinks. It feels as though nothing could really offer a threat. Not through iron skin and thrusters of blinding white light powered by the crystal fire.

In private, the temptation is equal parts desire to do nothing and to race. To bask in the power, to sit and experience it all, yet to sprint, to set the thrusters to max and fly as hard and as fast as possible to feel no less than the full thrill that the experience offers.

Now stack on the desire to pose for a cheering public, the thought of loved ones back home, and some pre-match jitters to get a slight taste of the feelings of each pilot at the start of an arena season.

The Arena is bejeweled for the beginning of its fifth season. The nanobots have been in constant buzz working upon Hybrasilian bio-engineered seedlings and the result is that the oft-sandblasted arena planet of Akar finds itself covered with the emeralds and sapphires of a lush forest dotted with rivers and lakes. The trees are massive, easily ten stories tall with layers of thick canopy that would allow an enterprising mech to set an ambush without even using a stealth generator. Travel is slow and limited with such low visibility though, causing command of the heights and the waterways to offer a pilot clear lines of sight for combat.

This is how things are arranged for the start of the season. A thousand hidden cameras with mobile AI are placed strategically throughout the forest and accompany every pilot to capture the action. With all new combatants, a hundred small fights will soon by breaking out across the planet. Word has spread not only in TC space so near to Akar, but all the way to the homeworlds of Hybrasil and Zaldaria that the season is starting!

The luckiest, wealthiest, and most cunning patrons of all species are here in Akar, packing the bars and the hotels of Akar Prime and Akar II so that they can watch the live feed ahead of the recordings being sent out by couriers and container ships across the jumps lanes. Word is also spreading that upon Akar Prime, a high fashion house is recruiting pilots to sponsor their clothes and that the competition has brought more than a few illicit interests out from hiding to participate.

Welcome, one and all, to the Arena!

Sunshards

There's something about the way Chen is bundled out of the car. She squeaks, but she's wearing an immaculate black suit cut curvy and busty to accent her breasts and her butt and she knows it. She stands in her little self with confidence and poise, not letting the ropes throw her balance despite having been bundled tightly into the car trunk with Rose.

She gives the foxes a look and they scurry, being careful as they're handling her not to stain or wrinkle her suit as they extract her. One fox offers a delicate hand to help Chen balance, another works her legs so that despite being extracted from the back of a kidnapping car, Chen looks for all the world like she's being assisted out of a carriage by her servants.

She's red and blushing too, but there's something about it that makes it seem like her fluster doesn't reach her core. Instead, she attempts a dainty step around her bonds, then nods at one of the foxes (Blackleaf by the markings, Chen seemed to like that one) and begins leaning on her as a walking aid while the other two start their extraction of Rose. Perhaps it's the serene smile on Chen's face despite her blush that makes her seem so confident as she carefully steps forward to survey the picnic and turns to gaze over her Rosepetal's extraction as well.

Her gaze for Petal is longing, and anyone looking can see that there will be more time alone for them after the picnic is done. Chen quite enjoyed by squeezed into a car trunk with her much larger girlfriend, pressed in tight against her as the ride bumped and bounced them to be even more entwined. There was going to be more time being all wrapped up with Petal to come. She would start slow there, she thought, first have Petal stroke her ears with a soft hand and tell her she's a good girl. But that was fun for later.

Bigger things were fun for even later than that. A smile crosses Chen's face at the thought of a new adventure fighting an army of foxes. In fact, for a moment she simply can't stop grinning about Jessic's mad plan (because think about it, that means Keron is going to have to add handling hundreds of foxes to her sky castle duties and the image of that timebomb eventually going off is just too good not to be worth dwelling on).

And past that, there's the matter of Chen establishing her own little kingdom with her shard's warm glow letting people shift and change themselves to their fancy and all learning to live together that way. Qiu had certainly done something quite special by shaking things up as much as she had, all the princesses were going to be shifting who was doing what (and thank the suns Yin was formally retiring, she was not up to the pressure). Chen would have a front row seat at the table for that, tail swishing all the while.

But right now, there's a moment to live in here. There's a whole picnic laid out with Yue, Hyra, and Kat (who is certainly helping with the setup and has not stolen herself a slice of baloney, stop looking at her mouth that could have been anything, foxes lick their lips for no reason all the time!). There's someone new too, someone who looks like she might be an older, slightly thicker version of Yue, and at that Chen lets out a little squeal of delight! She taps Blackleaf, who nods once and undoes Chen's ropes so she can run over and give Yue a hug, dragging along Petal (whose ropes are distinctly not undone, forcing her into a rapid hop to keep up). "Is...is this? Is this her?!" she cries, wrapping up the taller girl suddenly and tightly.

Only then does she see the huge burrower mask leaning against the wall and do a double take, her ears going up and her tail shooting out. But she doesn't let Yue out of the hug, and her eyes are questioning but sincere. Because right now she's got her Rosepetal, and her friends, and this is going to be the perfect picnic. It might even be a place to make new friends!