A (Mostly) Lazy Afternoon

Mona

Mona did all she could with the one-on-one task today. Craig is still likely sleeping (the order she texted him still on delivered, not on read). Gaia is too busy planning her date. Mona is much more nervous about it tonight than she was last night. She hopes Gaia is a nicer date than Craig turned out to be. She just doesn’t know if her hope will be realized or turn out to be wishful thinking.

So, Mona seriously considers just hiding in the Suite after lunch (which was again a weird diet meal with more baked chicken, some black beans, and some Brussels sprouts that she **** herself to eat), but Kevin and Tessa would not let her.

Kevin half drags Mona towards the Media Room, Tessa following behind. They pick up Andromeda along the way. He whispers, just loud enough for Mona to hear, “Do you want to talk about last night?”

Mona shakes her head so hard, “No. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

The foursome find themselves in the Media Room. A projection screen as big as one seen in a small movie theater dominates the far wall, framed with purple curtains. Instead of theater seats, there are couches and a couple of Jacuzzis. A bunny-girl that looks like a younger Tina with strawberry blonde hair is lazing at a small concession stand. Is that buzzing I’m hearing coming from her?

Kevin nods after he takes in the room, “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind or if you need me to teach him a lesson.”

A voice reverberates in the room, “That, Kevin, is not recommended.” Tyalangan teleports in, leaning against the railing on the stairs towards the upper levels of the room. She addresses the bunny-girl first before returning her gaze to the group, “Bonnie, would you be a dear and turn off your vibe when our guests are here? I did mention the rule about non-sexy **** to you lot, right?”

The bunny-girl pouts and the buzzing noise stops.

Kevin answers, “Only in passing.”

“Well,” the Host responds, “only sexy **** is allowed against any participant in the game, unless otherwise explicitly specified.”

Andromeda asks, “I saw that rule in my reading of the rule book. It would be helpful if you defined ‘sexy ****.’”

That turns into a weird conversation that Mona wants over quickly. “Sexy ****” is very nuanced and subjective. Good to know that Tyalangan saw that what Craig did wasn’t sexy. It sounds like fighting is not a good idea. Tyalangan notices that Mona wants the discussion wrapped up after a bit. She helpfully changes the subject, “So, ladies and Kevin, what can I load up for you? We have a vast number of movies, plays, TV shows, and a curated selection of Harem Hotel seasons available for your consumption.”

Tessa pops up first, “Your season, Tyalangan, if you would not mind.”

That gets shut down quickly, “That is not a season for your first taste of the show outside your own experience. It is available upstairs in the Mistress Suite, and, before you ask, no, you are not allowed to go upstairs to watch it now. A different suggestion?”

Andromeda speaks next, “Perhaps a season that would help us understand the Main Quest at the end of our game?”

Ooh, that is an interesting request. Tyalangan did mention I have to save the world after this. How am I supposed to do that?

Mona is popped out of her musing with a gentler rejection, “That is also not possible. The closest I could get you to that would be raw footage of my season’s ending. Stuff that didn’t make it to air for a reason. Even that is not a close enough approximation of the Main Quest. So, sorry, but no.”

“How about a season where someone in my situation has successfully navigated the game?” Kevin offers.

“Now that? That I can do.”

The screen lights up. A scene is displayed. A man on a throne underneath a gazebo on a pristine white sand beach. He looks vaguely like that yummy Andy Cooper that Tyalangan had her write a letter to, only a little smaller, a little thinner, much more unsettled. A stunning redhead in an equally stunning red cocktail dress leans against the throne; Arabella, if Mona’s memory from that character selection screen serves her well. The woman declares, pointing, “Here comes the first Contestant. Brace yourself, Andy. Look!”

Everyone settles in as they watch a shimmering mirage spit out a cute blonde girl, with glasses and simple clothes, clutching a notebook. Mona doesn’t even notice that Tyalangan has gone nor that the strawberry blonde bunny-girl turned on her vibrator again. She hears a slight splash behind her; Tessa must have chosen a Jacuzzi seat. Kevin and Andromeda take seats on the couch Mona chose. Mona is tempted to start to jill off, but keeps her hands out of her pants.

Andromeda whispers, “You probably have EP to spend, as I leveled up this morning. Can you give me the ability to feel more of whatever the opposite of modest is? It would be helpful.”

Mona scans her phone while giving the big screen some amount of attention. She doesn’t know why Andromeda asked for that, but it sounds hot. She looks around when she is done. Andromeda is leaning forward and taking notes; it is as if she is looking to solve the game with the power of observation. Kevin is leaning back, just letting the spectacle wash over him. Tessa is in the back, eyes barely visible above the water, watching like some kind of sea predator looking for prey to ambush.

She sees the notification, “Congratulations, your android can now feel mildly brazen. Enjoy!” Some more warnings erase themselves from the app screen. That’s good!

Then, she sits back to watch the show until she needs to get ready for her date, just glad to spend some time with her friends without being pressured into being the center of attention. I needed this.

Mona: Daily tasks complete! Walk for 30 minutes and walk 5K steps. +10 BP

Mona: Daily tasks complete! Follow Diet Plan (Before the Date) +10 BP

Mona: Daily tasks complete! Fully Prepare for Your Date +20 BP

Tegan

After an early lunch, Tegan wanted some redemption from the humiliation at the gym. So, she has returned to the range to work on more archery.

The range mistress skank is leaning on a post as Tegan stomps in. She nods and says, “Hey, Tiny Tits, back already? You know this is a dating show and not just a shooting competition, right?”

Tegan snarls as she pays the fee and demands her bow.

Tegan: -20 BP

She lines up shot after shot. It comes to her, slowly yet surely as she repeatedly nocks an arrow, takes aim, and fires. She slowly narrows down the pull of the drawstring, the feel of the bow in her hands. Soon enough, she’s hitting those whimsical targets.

Tegan: Success – Shortbow proficiency lesson (5 XP / 5 XP)

Tegan: +3 XP, Shortbow proficiency

Then, when she finally stops, her arms feel like lead, her shoulders and back are sore, her fingers cut up from the string. She slumps to her knees, unable to lift her arms up any more. The vicious vixen pants, so exhausted.

“You okay there, Tiny Tits?”

“Stop... calling... me... that...” Tegan pants.

The freak gets on her knees, checking Tegan for injury. She summons a bullet, shoves it into her cowardly gun, spins the barrel, and points it at Tegan.

“The... fuck... are... you... doing...”

She fires. The bullet hits Tegan point blank. And she feels... better? The fuck?

“You overdid it today, Tiny Tits. I guess you hit the gym to try and work on your pull strength? Rest for the rest of the day and all day tomorrow. No arguments. You have a date to plan anyways. I’ll let the rest of the staff know. You need help getting back to the Hotel?”

“The fuck did you just do?”

“My spellcasting is a little more... mechanical than the others. Cure Wounds. Patched up your workout injuries. You’re still resting. Go hang out with the others. Go plan your date for tomorrow night. Relax. That’s an order.”

Tegan snarls and starts to leave. I need to find somewhere else to train.

Craig

Craig woke up mid afternoon, starving and still terrified. I gotta scram! Get out of here! It’s the only way to make sure I don’t get turned into one of those things!

He scrambles out of bed, not paying attention to the mirrored canopy, the invisible comforter becoming opaque again once he’s no longer under it, the annoyed twig maid staring him down. He rushes to his wardrobe, changes clothes, and starts instinctively shoving as much stuff as he thinks he could need for an escape into his inventory.

The maid coughs, loud enough for Craig to hear. The gnoll still ignores the purple skinned twig. Winter does it again, louder. Craig still ignores the warning. Then, he feels something pointy grazing the base of his skull.

“What are you doing, Craig?”

That, he can’t ignore. “Running while I still can.”

“You really are an idiot.” The point disappears from the back of his neck.

Craig turns to see the maid wielding some kind of sword, straight and pointy. Winter holds it by the drow’s side, but with the confidence that belies someone that could strike him down if necessary. The maid points towards the love seat by the fireplace, ordering, “Sit. Let’s play this out.”

Craig complies, too scared to argue. Once he is situated, the maid saunters over to face him, ankles crossed as the drow sits. Winter starts to berate him, “Best case scenario for that plan is that the guards at the Royal Quarter gate do their jobs and bar you from leaving without an escort. You waste an hour or so of time and then come back with your tail between your legs. You may think you have a chance to really get away, but you don’t. One, there is an invisible camera filming you at all times. Two, there are invisible cameras in every place something interesting could happen, like the gate. Three, as the Host, The Queen can teleport to you at any time; granted, she could even without Host magic, but that’s beside the point. The more effort she has to put in to returning you, the bigger the XP hole you are going to find yourself in. Fourth, how many commands from Mona are you willing to ignore? She could just spam orders for you to return until you have a micropenis. Check your phone.”

Craig grumbles as he pulls out his phone. Sure enough, he is in negative XP territory. There is also a message from the chubby Asian chick:

“I scheduled your free session after dinner. You are to report to the gym by 8 PM tonight. You are not to cause trouble. Is that understood?”

Craig leaves the message on read. He growls and throws his phone in the fire.

The twig continues, smirking, “Bad news for you? You need 25 XP by challenge day or you are likely screwed. Good news for you? It’s obtainable if you just stop being an asshole, see that you are going to need to have a good relationship with Mona if you want to not be miserable, and work towards it. Some of the others have already gotten basically enough XP to qualify for the first major quest and it’s been about a day and a half. So, you going to answer your Mistress or are you going to risk ruining your only currently redeeming feature?”

The phone reappears in his hand, undamaged. He growls again and texts back, “Fine.”

Craig’s stomach growls. He hasn’t eaten since last night and is famished. “May I have some fucking breakfast now?”

“You going to be a good boy?”

“Until I can escape, yeah.”

A dog bowl of breakfast, eggs and meat and toast, appears in Winter’s hand, piping hot. The twig maid places it on the coffee table with a flourish and a smirk. Craig is too hungry to care. He picks it up and gorges himself with it. It’s humiliating and delicious. When he’s done, he flings the bowl into the fire.

He gets up and puts his stuff back into the wardrobe, then stomps out of the dorm room. He swears the twig makes a tsk noise at his tantrum. I need to figure out a way to either escape or to break that chubby Asian bitch. At least the twig let me know that I can’t succeed trying things halfway. I gotta plan.