Gifts, According to a Hawthorne

7:30PM, 30 minutes after joining the Extinction Kings...

Vanessa expected a whoosh, or a bizarre noise, or a cold breeze, or something... but she even failed to notice the soft-stepping presence of an intruder in her home, even when she was waiting for him, staring at the door as if he would walk in through it. The tunnel opened and then closed without her turning around, and so the heiress was startled when she heard his sigh. She spun about, and faced her "boyfriend".

The study was empty, no more or less bereft of its books than it was yesterday but, thankfully, missing the fixture of a cold-blooded mobster, one who no doubt still didn't understand how he lost his gun. John came dressed casually, save for his two rings; circumstances permitting, he'd never be without them. His gray t-shirt (with a stencil of Thrall's face from an old MMO) hid his newly-shaped body, and jean shorts he never wanted to wear in public seemed apt for this least-desirable affair. But despite him coming casual, he wasn't ready for casual Vanessa: long, blonde locks loose and wild around a hungry expression, a silk babydoll that barely contained her tits in its pink grasp, and a matching thong barely hidden by the veiling lengths of her outfit.

"Do you sleep in that?"

She blinked if as struck. "Good evening to you too!" He leaned forward with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. She sighed and leaned in for a kiss, to which he recoiled. "What-"

"Good evening...?" John hung on the end of the phrase, motioning for her to complete it. He had leaned in to listen for it.

"... John," she spat.

"You remembered!"

She crossed her arms. "So. Rude. I can't believe I'm doing you a favor with the way you act..." She smirked. "But I guess you'll make it up to me, somehow."

John tried to return the smile. He kept in mind the fact that he was responsible for her current state, no matter his opinion of her.

Vanessa Hawthorne
Lvl 6 Cheerleader
<Bitch Queen>
HP: 50/50
The cheerleader queen of your high school, and perhaps one day of your Academy. She is the heiress of a vast estate, politically and monetarily, and commands a fleet of servants, criminals, and attorneys by the authority of her mother. She has rarely wanted for anything for very long.
Relationship: +200

Unwavering love... but she doesn't even seem like she's that head-over-heels. So why...? He figured he'd regret it, but curiosity and paranoia now demanded that he press into her thoughts as he spoke. "Why are you so interested in me owing you anything?" He cast read mind, and looked into her thoughts.

I need you more than I've ever needed anything, but you're too wild. I can't be irresponsible; I need to break you quickly. "So serious! It's part of your charm..."

John balked visibly. How... does she say that so naturally when her thoughts are... "What do you expect in return, then, for this favor?"

You'll be my greatest ****, and the man nearest to my equal. We'll rule the world together... me the Queen, and you the throne. "Just your love, baby; you know that's what boyfriends do, don't you?"

John shook his head. As good as she was at this, he struggled to accept how apart her mouth and brain seemed to operate. But this is my fault, isn't it? I should've just disciplined her or walked away... but this relationship score is... "Right... well, what's the surprise? C'mon, tell me what you have in store."

He expected an image, perhaps a name... but whatever it was, it was so beneath recognition that it failed to rise to the front of her thoughts. ****, and the sort you'll want to give me. You'll never get out of this one. "It's in my bedroom, heehee."

You'd be surprised, Vanessa. "Lead the way."

She widened her mouth in faux shock. "John! I'm-!" She looked about, as if the books might share the rumors. "I'm a political princess! Such scandal... are you sure you're ready for that?" Please... just give in...

The yearning there was pure, rich, beautiful... venomous. It was intoxicating and toxic, and blurred John's vision of the richy bitch cheerleader into something unnatural. Where John had felt the radiant warmth of need from Lily, Vanessa's sheer want burned thrice as bright, and truly burned; it was akin to handling acid with his will alone, and he considered breaking the connection. No! I've got to get used to this...

"Weeeell? Don't pussy out now, Newman-"

"You need to take me there first," John whispered. "I've never been, you know."

She led the way without another word, and soon they were walking the hallways, with only the occasional confused stare from a butler or maid (and only ever when Vanessa's eyes were not upon them). The comparison of emotions, between Vanessa and Lily, brought the latter back to his thoughts: he had left her there in his house, a guest in the guest bedroom downstairs; a penpal who wanted to spend a year in America, John had assured his lust-addled mother, and with a few guilty augments of her trust she accepted that she must've forgotten him bringing it up, agreeing to it, and even so without his father's blessing. Taking advantage of his **** mother like that hung heavy on him... but then, so did the idea of leaving Lily in a barrier, alone until he needed her. I'm sure they're getting along just fine by now... I mean, Lily's fears are... c'mon. My mother wouldn't-

"Here we are."

John snapped out of his drifting thoughts and followed her through the double doors of her bedchamber. There, waiting for them, were a number of especially discomforting things: first, the bed with a variety of sex toys strewn about its surface, ranging from dildos to handcuffs to all manner of genital cages and buttplugs. The doors closed behind him as he stared at the display in shock, and he nearly jumped into the air as the lock clicked. Get your shit together, John, you can literally teleport out of here whenever you want! He steeled himself and tore his eyes from the bed to take in the rest, and only then was he truly aware of the other three people present: a female guard by the door, who he only barely noticed, and two terrified-looking maids in their conservative wear, one Indian and the other Russian, though John only knew this from the information over their heads. Beyond them remained the rest of the room: sky-blue diamond designs of intricately painted wallpaper covered the room wherever there wasn't a faux marble pillar. The floor was a polished not-so-faux marble white with the Hawthorne family crest, made in gold and silver-painted cobblestones, half-buried under the monstrous four-post bed. All the finery and ivory furniture a rich girl could want otherwise plastered the walls except for where there were two other doors, both laid open: one leading into a walk-in closet that looked more like a second bedroom from here, and the other into a lavish bathroom with its door open and a warm jacuzzi-bath already drawn for whoever needed it.

But John didn't see these expensive, beautiful things. His eyes didn't get past the information over the heads of the maids.

Pari Chatterjee
Level 2 Debt ****
<Hawthorne Estate>
HP: 19/22 (CAPTURABLE)
Relationship: -23
A talented 20-year-old who had a knack for English. Sold to human traffickers in Howrah. Sold to the Hawthornes as a **** at 19. Bears three lashing scars for accidentally ruining a dress made for Lady Hawthorne.
Status Effect: Terrified (4 yellow hearts), Permanently Wounded (-2 max HP)

Olga Grigorieva
Level 1 Debt ****
<Hawthorne Estate>
HP: 18/20 (CAPTURABLE)
Relationship: -18
An 18-year-old Russian girl sold into slavery at age 9 in Novosibirsk. Hyper-metabolism leaves her unhealthy, high-maintenance; sold at discount to the Hawthornes as a **** at 15. Has learned basic English for the purpose of serving the Hawthornes.
Status Effect: Dissonance (1 black heart), Starving (-4 END)

John read the information as slowly as his mind could, but still it was too much; he closed his eyes, gave himself a few seconds to focus on unclenching his teeth.

"Sooo, I know what you're thinking~" Vanessa taunted merrily. Let's see him resist this- why is he angry? Why is he... what's going on? Oh God, does he recognize one of them? That's impossible, right?

John turned away from where he knew Vanessa was standing before he opened his eyes, and regarded the third woman instead: well-dressed in a suit, with dark-dyed red hair and deep, hideously deep scars by her left eye and on her chin. Greater scar tissue, as if from burns, started from just above the bottom of her neck and expanded across all the skin she left visible in her business suit. The hand tucked away by the folding of her arms, he now realized, was not gloved, but made from some kind of black plastic or steel.

Ophelia Waterstone
Level 16 Soldier
<Hawthorne Estate>
HP: 310/310
MP: 160/160
Relationship: +9
Heroic U.S. Marine Sergeant who lost friends and more to an IED in an insurgent attack. Hired on by the Hawthornes as a politically motivated charity four years ago. Doesn't take shit from no one, especially not Vanessa, her charge. Insulated from being fired for political reasons. Hates kids.
Status Effect: Maimed Left Arm (Dismembered), Maimed Left Leg (Dismembered), Scarred (23% of surface area), Permanently Wounded (-160 max HP)

"Do you really know what I'm thinking... Hawthorne?" John couldn't take the edge out of his words. With his jaw relaxed, he dared to look upon Vanessa again.

"Y-Yeah... I mean, why do I have so many people here, right?" He'll take it, right? He said he needed it. "Well... this may surprise you, but I really do care about you, John."

"Yeah?"

Vanessa grabbed his hand. He clenched her fingers, and did his best to do so gently. "So, just so you know, these two don't talk English," she said, waving her hand, "but I know you don't like talking about it in front of others, sooo... I'll just say that I know you needed two more girls, right?" John nodded slowly. Thank God. It's bad enough I have to let him fuck some peasants! But at least it's me who's giving him the peasants to fuck. "Well, it just so happens to be that these two accepted my offer for two big, big bonuses to be those two girls!" If they don't want to get sold off to Uncle Jeffrey... Images, of a groping, lecherous fiend in Vanessa's past briefly flickered into view. ... they'll shut up and take it.

That was the last straw for John. "I already fucked two women after you."

The maids gasped. The veteran snorted with choked laughter. Vanessa stared blankly. He... he... what?

"Three, actually. So here's what's going to happen next," he instructed in a low voice, sweeping a hand to brush aside one of Vanessa's bangs. She flinched as he did so, and only lightly tugged on her hands to be free of him. He didn't let go. "You're going to tell these girls that your threats are cancelled. I'm going to purchase their contracts- how much did they cost?"

"W-What?"

"When your mommy and daddy bought them as slaves," he clarified, the smoothness of his accusation taking Vanessa off-guard once again, "how much?"

Her hands leapt from his as if they burned, and she nearly fell from stepping backwards. How the fuck does he know?! Is he- is he bluffing?!

"That one's Pari," he said at a louder clip, surprising the maids one after the other, "and that one's Olga."

"..." Vanessa continued to stare, slack-jawed, between John and the maids as he named them. What do I- wait, Vanessa, calm down! Think this through!

"Did you know?" Ophelia raised an eyebrow when she realized the young man was addressing her. "Did you know about it, Ophelia Waterstone? U.S. Marine, decorated, hired for her dad's political gain- did you know they were slaves? Do you know how much these women cost?"

Against whatever John's expectations were... the woman managed a smirk. "I like him, Vanessa. You better keep this one."

"... Huh?"

John ignored the continuous stream of paranoia and fear coming from Vanessa and pressed on. "Well?"

"I didn't, and I don't, not that it's hard to believe," Ophelia declared with a shrug, "and I doubt they kept any kind of trail to find out. What are you going to do now?"

John cocked his head at the soldier. "What?"

"Did you have a plan? I hope it went beyond accusing the Hawthornes of human trafficking, because that," she declared with a wave of her myoelectric-prosthetic finger, "would be a pretty shit plan."

"... Ophelia, you are not helping," Vanessa hissed. What the fuck is going on-?!

John turned off his connection to Vanessa, and connected to Ophelia instead. "What if my plan was to buy their freedom?"

Buy? His home income isn't nearly enough to drop that kind of money. Perhaps a bluff. He's buying time. He has no plan. I could call in back-up, but why? He looks like a nice boy... for a blackmailing son of a bitch. I can take him, easy. Don't underestimate him. Overconfident, or trained? Can't blame him, though; the shit that goes on in here- wait. Did he hear me? No, I'm not so rusty that I'd mutter- no... but how is he hearing my thoughts?

John recoiled, and pulled himself out of the soldier's mind as her thoughts seemed to recognize his presence. The contrast of minds felt thus far was wild: Lily's was a saccharine mess of emotion and fear, Vanessa's was a pool of pitch and twisted manipulation, but Ophelia's were crystal clear and moving fast, oscillating between topics faster than she might speak them, all with a precision Lily's anxiety didn't allow. More worrying than that, however, was the strange sense of recognition in her eyes. Somehow, she knew.

"... What was that?"

"W-What do you mean?"

"Your lips... you just mouthed what I was..." She frowned, and shook her head, dismissing the mad notion... and John exhaled in relief.

Great, so apparently my lips move when I read minds... thank God Vanessa was too self-absorbed to notice. John inhaled slowly, and calmed down before refocusing the conversation. "Vanessa."

"Y-Yeah?!"

"I'm going to buy these two women from you, and I'm going to take them home with me."

Vanessa stuck her chest out, trying to regain some of her dignity. It was particularly difficult, given the babydoll. "I promise, we would never engage in such-"

"What about a hundred thousand dollars?"

"Wh... What do you-"

"For each?"

Vanessa stared, wide-eyed, and John nodded towards the women. He was serious. "That's... that's not-"

"You are both free," he declared to the girls. "Wait for me by the door."

More to Vanessa's shock, both immediately understood and began to flee towards the door. They knew English far better than they had ever let her know. "What the f-?!" A finger pressed to her lips.

"Shh," John hissed. "If you ever want to even try to keep pretending at this relationship, you're going to give this to me. Do you understand?" He linked with her mind anew, intent on knowing her reaction.

I fucked up... John was surprised at her earnest self-deprecation- But you're still going to be mine, John. "I do," she said through a pout. "I'm sorry... I didn't know..."

"No more lies," John whispered. "I'm going to start punishing you for every lie you tell me... starting with the one you just said."