Tamara cleared her throat; a bit forcefully, as people looked over. Duffed, Charlotte was confronted with the most seductive figure since forever in this paltry village; the Cambion blending, seamlessly, masculine handsomeness and feminine gracefulness with infernal persuasion and human charm. In short: she was friggin’ hot.
“Excuse me, pettanko,” she says, “Retreat your finger, and cease disrupting our meal.” C-3, cheeks crammed with as much greenery as possible, as she devoured several salads as swiftly as possible, looked back at Charlotte, and swallowed. “Pray, mine acquaintance is known to thee,” she asks, feigning ignorance. “Mine apologies, but I know thee not.” Tamara stood, hands on the table, allowing her, simultaneously, muscular yet soft build to flex, and her chest and rear to resume their struggle against the binding of her cotton-silk smallclothes. “I believe, you heard her,” she says, “Remove your hand, or must I assist you?”
C-3 whimpered, faking discomfort, as she tried to lean away from Charlotte; merely fueling the fire. After all, Charlotte didn't properly apologize for burning down that forest earlier; that was a good harvest for some uncommon herbs, and Class Syrups were not easy to make.
”Pe…” Charlotte would say, self consciously covering her bust. ”Pe…” she said, sounding a lot more upset this time as her face lit up red and her horns quiverd atop her brow. ”W-Who are you calling Pettanko!? I’m fun-sized!” Charlotte would say, once again regaining her composure as she assured herself that she was not, in fact, a member of the itty bitty committee, but rather that the WORLD WAS TOO FOCUSED ON GROTESQUE HUGE BREASTS! Nodding to herself, Charlotte looked as if she received a revelation of God, before spinning with a flourish. She didn’t WANT to accept the strangely attractive half spawn’s proposal, but...I mean, it wasn’t like she could fight it. After all, if the girl wasn’t C-3, she wasn’t C-3. Sighing, Charlotte removed a rather delectable (to a slime) looking piece of flint and said. ”Guess she really isn’t here...and I was saving this for an apology, too…”
C-3's hair twitched, and she eyed the flint hungrily. “Hm...” she groaned. “Surely, thou might part with it, if thou hast no use for it...” Tamara was looking confused, and before she stood up taller. “Enough of this!” she says, “What is your game, pettanko?”
”Nope. Can’t just give away an apology gift to a total stranger” Charlotte said, shaking her head. Her gaze met Tamara’s as she stood up, brow furrowed as she was insulted once again. ”What does it matter to YOU? If my friend isn’t here, then I’ll leave.” Charlotte said, shrugging. Spinning the polished piece of flint on her finger, she added: ”Unless, you’re looking to start something without reason, sag-hag.”
“Say that again,” Tamara hisses, hand traveling to her katana.
”Sure it won’t break your back to be reminded of how much those things sag?” Charlotte said, grinning as her fists clenched. Itty Bitty for life.
Tamara didn't retort, as her lashed out with her blade; cleaving cleanly through Charlotte's chest. The Anti-Material Severing Sword sheared through the armor, as if mere butter, yet phased through her skin, as if never there. Spinning her blade, she sheathed it from her iaijutsu draw. “My back is well,” she says, narrowing her eyes.
Charlotte cried out as the blade sunk into her skin...but...really didn’t hurt all that much. She was just left confused as to what happened before she saw that along the line of her clavicle the cloth had been cut, leaving her tie to fall to the floor, and her shirt to spill down, the folded over fabric just barely managing to keep the context of the writing at a solid PG-13. Blinking a few times, Charlotte stooped down to pick up her tie...before incinerating it in her grasp, letting the ash fall to the ground. ”I only have SIX of those!” Charlotte said, fitfully stamping her foot on the ground. ”What barn were you raised in where its proper to shred a princess’ clothes!?”
“You are brave,” Tamara says. “Useless Princess. Hrm...” Tamara shifted her posture, and her mask appeared in her hand. “[ Henshin!]” she pressed the mask to her face, and the armor seemed to pour out of it, and formed around her. Tamara shifted her stand to draw without warning.
Naturally, Charlotte did the only natural thing, and that was to punch Tamara in the face. I mean, she did start it. The unnatural part would be that she sent Tamara physically flying through the tavern’s wall and rolling out into the street. ”Oh no, I am NOT letting you strip me down more!” Charlotte said, pointing at Tamara from the hole in the wall. ”Seriously, what kind of pervert has swords that cut clothes off and nothing else! You...you...Pervert Samurai!”
Tamara sailed through the air without a bit of reaction, and landed with a deep skid. Her armor should have be crushed without fail from Charlotte dumb strength, but it was perfectly fine. “Was that all, useless princess,” she asks, “It'll take ages for someone of your strength to even ripple my armor.” Tamara shifted her posture, and stepped forward; covering several in a single stride. “A Gentle Spring Breeze!”
Her katana came sweeping out of nowhere.
Charlotte blinked, and that was all the time it took for Tamara to step forward, inches from her as her vaguely body shampoo named attack came towards her.
Naturally, Charlotte as a high level monk and super princess extraordinaire was definitely capable of deflecting the attack...but really, she had a feeling that special clothes cutting sword would just pass through her attempts to deflect it anyways. As such, Charlotte would lift her right leg up as high as possible over her head, in the process Tamara ALSO got to see her panties, which, might have been payment for the axe kick that impacted against the back of her head. ”Exceed Maiden’s Axe!” she would cry out, the air itself igniting from her kick as she sent Tamara slamming into the ground, letting her bounce once before being kicked away again with her other foot. The second was much weaker, more just to get her the hell away. ”Seriously, not looking for a fight right now. Just a cutie patootie slime. So buzz off, lady!”
Tamara couldn't help her nosebleed, before she was bounced, and repelled. As she landed, she tilted her head. “A slime...” she sniffed the air; tilting her head upwards, before lowering it. “That smell... Demon Royalty... the stench of sulfuric brimstone... No wonder you reek of shampoo...”
Charlotte beamed proudly, pudding a hand over here heart and the other on her hip as she proudly proclaimed: ”That’s right, you smelt it here first, pervert. You stand in the presence of Charlotte Andromalius Nix Iscaron herself! Tremble in awe at my princesslyness!” she said, practically radiating confidence as she pulled her top’s torn front up to the point where it was cut, a superheated tail tip gliding across it to melt the fabric together. It still looked messed up, but at least it wasn’t falling on itself now.
Tamara removed her mask, and set it to her hip, as her armor was absorbed into it. Her eyes narrowed, and her horns grew larger, as a thin, spade-tipped tail unwrapped from her hip. A hand slipped to her back, as she drew her wakizashi... blood-red and black-stained mist hissed from within. “If I bring Daddy your head...” she says, “Kybinae Village will become famous. Please, die for the sake for mine and theirs.”
“I'll have your head, Pettanko Princess!” Tamara shouted, nearly warping forward.
Only to be, suddenly, stopped by C-3; arms stretched to both sides, as she stood, full body blocking Tamara. “Enough!” she barked.
Charlotte lowered her stance, prepared to catch Tamara’s blade as she felt the air pressure around her change, before suddenly that little drow girl burst between them. Stumbling a bit, Charlotte said: ”H-Hey! Don’t just go running between two people standing off! You’re gonna get hurt little lady. Also why do you sound like my bestie?” she said.
“God save, you are dense,” C-3 says, as she kept her attention on Tamara. “What's going on here!?” she was so confused. “Trust me, that's long explanation that will confuse her more than you,” C-3 says. “Gimme yummy, now!”
Charlotte recognized that whiny voice, and immediately tossed the flint at the drow girl. ”Ohhhh, I get it now. You were bumming food off of her by pretending to be an orphan.” she said, smiling at her. ”Pretty clever, C-3. Though, make sure you never tell any Drow about this. They get mad about people impersonating them. Something about ‘Underdark face’ or something.”
C-3 literally didn't care. She was munching on the flint. Tamara was at a loss, but sheathed her wakizashi; the mist being corked. Charlotte got a whiff of it, and could tell it was a helluva legacy being controlled. Not royalty or anything close, but something she'd heard off. Stalking over, she started sniffing at C-3; she could smell her ambition, hopes, dreams, and precociousness. “Ahhh!! I wanna keep you!” Tamara squealed, hugging C-3 tightly.
Charlotte got a whiff of the legacy, but merely swatted it away with her hand. What she REALLY cared about was someone sniffing and cuddling C-3. She was, quite literally, the only one legally permitted to do that. She had her father make it a law, for crying out loud! Going over, Charlotte hugged C-3 as well. ”Hands off my bestie!”
“Refuse!” Tamara says, hugging persistently. “So preciously... So delicious... Such a wonderful smell,” she looked at Charlotte, “...unlike some, Pettanko Princess, and that rancid shampoo.”
Charlotte pushed Tamara’s face away with her hand, trying to wrench her off of C-3. ”At least I don’t reek of sweat, incense, and poorly thought out oaths!” she snapped back.
Tamara growled. “It's called pheromones!” she says, pushing on Charlotte's face, the same. “Learn your scents! And, my oath is well-thought-out!”
The sound of footsteps echoed across the cobblestone road as a plethora of guards had assembled while the twosome had fought over their squishy focus. The rather burly captain of the guard was just staring at the three, before reaching into his pocket, pulling out a picture of himself and his daughter before sniffling once. ”Take them to prison. Pedophilia is DOUBLE illegal here.”
Now stuck in a cell, Tamara and Charlotte could bicker all they liked...while the captain of the guard gave C-3 his coat and bought her another salad.
”Heroooooooooooo~!” Charlotte wailed, rattling the bars of her and Tamara’s cell with a metal mug. She was...definitely crying. Princesses didn’t get jailed!
“Hey, my swords! My mask!” Tamara whined, huddled on the cot. “My Squishy!”
C-3 was okay with this. Free salad was the best kind of salad. “Mine thanks to thee,” she hugged the Captain of the Guard, “This is delicious!”