Oh my god, they were roommates

The argument had quickly progressed from words to actions, despite Leanne's best efforts, and she winced at the sound of slamming drawers from the bedroom. She took a moment to straighten her crumpled jacket over her ill-fitting tank top, then ran her fingers through her short blonde hair to sweep it temporarily out of her eyes as she followed the noise. She was a fit, handsome young woman, average height, mid-twenties, and more than willing to use her charms to get out of trouble when needed. She definitely needed them now.

“Come on, babe,” she said with a disarming smile, spreading her arms wide and immediately crumpling her jacket again, “There’s no need to get dramatic about it.”

‘Babe’ was an accurate descriptor of the other woman in the bedroom, currently scooping armfuls of clothes from an open drawer into a trash bag. Tall, fine-featured, luxurious brunette hair, legs for days, tits that jiggled quite pleasantly as she angrily slammed the drawer shut and glared up at Leanne (who only just managed to make eye contact in time).

“Dramatic?” she hissed, “Dramatic? I found used condoms in the trashcan and you think I’m being dramatic?!” She tied off the trash bag of clothes (hopefully not the one the condoms were in) and threw it at Leanne.

“I already said I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said soothingly, letting the bag bounce off her chest without comment, “We never agreed we were exclusive though.”

‘Sweetie’ laughed in disbelief. “I don’t care about being exclusive, I care that you fucked him in my fucking bed!”

“Her,” Leanne corrected, before she could stop herself, “I guess there was a ‘him’ as well, a bit earlier in the day, but the condoms were hers. She was the only one with a dick.”

The frosty stare she got in reply finally wiped the smile off Leanne’s face. She looked down and kicked the toes of her scruffy sneakers into the carpet. “Sorry.”

“I leave you here alone for a day, you fuck two different people in my bed, and you're sorry,” came the weary sigh, “I give up. You’re not worth the effort. Just get out, and don't come back.”

“Honey, please,” Leanne tried, “I really am sorry. I messed up, I violated your space, and I should have known better. I know that now. Just give me a chance to make it up to you. You mean a lot to me, and I don't want to give up on us yet.”

The woman fixed her with a curious look and, oddly, smiled. “What’s my name, Leanne?”

Leanne blinked. “What?”

“It's always ‘babe’ this and ‘honey’ that with you. If I mean so much to you, then what's my actual name? The one I introduced myself to you as?”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and took a slow breath in through her nose before answering. “Jenny?” she tried.

‘Jenny’ laughed and her smile widened until it was manic, though her eyes shone with moisture.

“A tip for you, Leanne Powell,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, leaning in closer. Leanne leaned in as well, morbidly curious. “If you have to think about it, and you say it like it's a question, then it doesn't matter if you get it right or not.” She picked up the trash bag again and shoved it into Leanne’s arms. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment.”

Less than a minute later, Leanne found herself standing on the sidewalk with a trash bag full of clothes in her hand. The slamming of the door behind her echoed off the surrounding buildings, shutting out the light from inside so she had only the streetlights for illumination. A puddle slowly soaked into the hem of her sweatpants and through the holes in her sneakers, and a fine drizzle dampened her messy hair.

She took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh. Well, she’d totally fucked that one up. Out on her ass again, and all because she’d been too impatient to make the longer journey from the club to the hot bouncer’s own bed, and then didn’t think to take the trash out before whatshername got back home. Oh well. Could have been worse. She smiled to herself, her worries melting away in the rain.

The happy-go-lucky couch surfer set off walking, picking a direction from a vague memory. She was fairly certain Raven lived around here somewhere, and they were usually good for a place to crash until they got sick of her flirting. Or was their name Wren? Some kind of bird, though an association with sheep kept coming to mind for some reason. It was after midnight by this point, which wasn’t a great time to get kicked out on the streets, but hopefully there would still be someone awake when she got there. Didn’t they work late shifts at a burger joint?

An anonymous figure, lurking down an alleyway, got no more than a sidelong glance from Leanne as she passed by. She didn’t even look long enough to realise that there was nothing but empty space beneath the hood, or that the robe didn’t go all the way to the ground and there were no feet below it. The figure sighed, despite an apparent lack of lungs, and grumbled to himself despite having no mouth. This next Contestant wasn’t going to walk through any more doorways anytime soon and they were on a tight deadline, so he’d just have to brute-force the capture rather than using the more elegant threshold magic he preferred.

A pen twirled in circles in a gloved hand that floated at the end of an empty sleeve, the tip of it drawing a glowing trail in the air, then he reluctantly began to trace out a route through an invisible map of the streets around him. There was no artistry in this method, and scant amounts of meaningful symbolism. How was he ever going to prove himself worthy of promotion out of Junior Producer limbo under these conditions? It was barely a step above the contestant launching chute, or just having them black out without warning like some sort of amateur.

On the other hand, the only thing worse than a crude capture would be no capture. A failure like that would have been a pretty large black mark on his resumé as a member of the Contestant Capture subcommittee, and might even be bad enough to put him at risk of demotion to Assistant Junior Producer (or even worse: intern). He swallowed his pride and got on with it.

The truck driver wasn't entirely sure why he'd gone up this downtown street to begin with, but something (maybe just an urge to finish the delivery and get home) had him pressing the gas pedal to the floor despite the wet road. In the dark of night, he didn't spot the scruffy woman crossing the street without looking. She didn't spot him either, until it was far too late. Neither of them spotted the anonymous figure in the alleyway, slowly shaking his head in disappointment and then drifting away through a nearby doorway that somehow didn’t lead inside the building it was attached to.

“Let’s all give a very warm welcome to Contestant number six!”

Robin scanned the stage, squinted into the light, and glanced up into the sky in case of another entry via umbrella parachute, but the only figure present was Jack; who had transformed in between blinks into a short, squat, gnome-like creature of indeterminate gender. The assembled audience, Mastress and Harem, shuffled awkwardly as Jack continued to stand there with their stubby arms spread wide.

“I kind of pictured my afterlife having more flames and pitchforks, but I dig it,” came a bemused voice in Robin’s ear.

Robin flinched, Ipheara fluttered back a few steps, Beverly let out an odd growling noise and bared her teeth, Itzel shrieked and Zoe swore under her breath at the jumpscare. Everyone stared at the messy but attractive young woman who had suddenly appeared behind Robin’s shoulder.

“Annie,” Nyx greeted her dryly, seemingly unaffected by the surprise appearance, “I guess I should have expected to see you here.”

“Oh, hey Nox,” Leanne beamed.

“It’s Nyx,” the tall woman corrected, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms.

“Right, that’s what I said,” she lied, “Did you die too?”

“Nobody’s dead,” Robin butted in, then paused before turning towards Jack with a horrified expression, “...nobody’s dead, are they?”

“Nobody’s dead,” Jack confirmed with a chuckle, examining the gnarly nails on one hand, “That’s a different season, with a significantly bluer host.”

“Huh. I could have sworn I just got hit by a truck, but I guess not.” Leanne shrugged, then smoothly turned to Robin, “In that case, can I crash on your couch for a few nights? Either that, or we could share a bed.” She fluttered her eyelashes in an exaggerated attempt at seduction.

Robin blinked, taking a moment to adjust to the overwhelming experience that was a conversation with Leanne. In the background, Nyx sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“I cannot believe I keep sleeping with you,” she muttered under her breath, “You're just lucky you look good on your knees.”

“You know it,” Leanne winked at her, but wasn't deterred from her assault on Robin for long, “You hear that, babe? Sleeping with me is an ‘unbelievable’ experience.”

“Um,” said Robin, subconsciously leaning back and glancing around nervously.

“Hey! Leave him alone! Can't you see he's uncomfortable?” Zoe snapped, recovering from the shock and snarling at the new but familiar arrival. Then her brain caught up to what she'd said. “Shit, sorry. I meant them. They. Uh... Or was it she today? Or was he right to begin with?”

Nyx gave a satisfied smirk as the woman who had corrected her earlier assumption of gender made the same mistake in the opposite direction. Not that she was happy about Robin being misgendered in any way, but it was a bit of a relief that she wasn’t the only one who was a little confused by the androgynous cutie. At the same time, she got ready to step into the situation if needed. She was no stranger to having to save someone from unwanted flirting, and if that meant she got to be the knight in shining armour for Robin after Zoe’s attempt failed, then all the better.

“It's fine, I'm in a ‘whatever pronouns’ kind of mood today,” Robin shrugged, taking advantage of the distraction to save themself by sidestepping away from the aggressive blonde.

“Not interested, got it,” Leanne held up her hands and dipped her head in supplication, but not for long. “How about you then, Chloe? Is your couch still available for a night or two?”

“Zoe,” Zoe ground out, “And no, it isn't. You're not sleeping at mine again after what you did to the cushions last time.”

“I did wash them twice, but fair enough.” She looked towards the alien woman next. “What about you?”

“That's... the same couch as Robin’s,” Itzel said, her sapphire tentacles curling up anxiously, “It's me. Itzel. Robin's roommate.”

“Yeah, I know,” Leanne smirked, and snorted a laugh, “Did you think I forgot about you or something? I was asking about your bed, if the couch is off limits.”

The amphitheatre went quiet, everyone looking at Leanne in confusion, aside from a grinning Jack.

“You... Uh... You don't seem surprised that she's an alien,” Robin said eventually.

Leanne squinted at them. “That's ‘cos I'm not. I was only bunking with you for like two days before I saw her getting a glass of water at 3am with her extra-terrestrial bits hanging out.”

“...and you didn't say anything?”

“Hey, it was none of my business,” she shrugged, “You seriously didn't know though? She kept a bottle of tentacle conditioner in your shower!”

Itzel buried her face in her hands in embarrassment as Robin tried incredibly hard to remember if they had seen that bottle and just not realised. Meanwhile, Beverly had been creeping closer to the newest arrival, her eyes narrow and nostrils flared suspiciously.

“Ah! It’s the beaver girl!”

“Beaver girl?” Robin was somehow more confused now than they had been all day.

“Yeah, the beaver girl,” Leanne crouched down to get closer to Beverly’s height, looking into her mistrustful eyes. She held out a hand, clenched for a fist bump, but then snatched it back and stood up again when Beverly tried to bite it before scurrying away. “Hey now, teeth are for after foreplay!” she scolded, then shook her head and continued her explanation. “I tried the whole wild living thing for a while last summer, saw her in the distance swimming with some dire beavers at one point. I thought it was a bit weird, but she seemed like she was living her best life.”

“And you didn’t say anything.” Robin said again, though the flat tone made clear it wasn’t a question this time. Beverly had been missing for over a decade. There were cold case documentaries about her. Then Leanne saw her swimming and just left her to it.

Leanne just shrugged, then finally seemed to notice the tall insectoid woman lingering behind everyone else. “Hi Ipheara. How’s the farm?”

“Hi Leanne,” the moth mumbled awkwardly, “Not that good this year, actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said solemnly, then took a deep breath and clapped her hands together, “Right, so what’s actually going on here, and where the hell am I sleeping tonight?”

“Wait, what?” Zoe’s eyes snapped between the blonde woman and the terrifying moth.

“I think that’s my cue,” Jack drawled, stepping forward and simultaneously increasing in height.

“Oh yeah. Who are you, anyway? I don't remember bunking with you at any point.”

“Would you know if you had?” he asked with a smirk, definitely a ‘he’ now as his form shifted and stretched, “I go by many faces and many names, but for now you can call me Jack. I'll be your Host on this season of the greatest gameshow in the multiverse: Harem Hotel!”

“No, hold on,” the skater girl held up a finger, “Did nobody else think that was strange?”

“Harem Hotel?” Leanne’s eyebrows shot up, and her mouth split into a wide grin, “Hot damn. I always wanted a harem, and that answers my question about where I'm sleeping tonight.”

“We’re seriously just going to ignore it?” Zoe tried, a little louder.

“Not your harem I’m afraid, my dear,” Jack finished growing taller and now wore the moustached face of a well-groomed gentleman, with a green three-piece suit and a long coat hanging off his shoulders, leaning on a silver-topped cane. “As for sleeping arrangements; we’ll get to that later, along with enough of an explanation of the rules for you to get yourselves in trouble with.”

“Nobody else thinks it’s weird that she knows the moth lady?”

“I guess if I can’t have a harem of my own then being in one is a close second,” Leanne looked around at the gathered group and rubbed her hands together, eyes skimming over the increasingly-distressed Zoe, “So who am I fucking?”

“Whoever you can convince, I imagine,” Jack gave her a lazy smile, “But to answer the question you probably meant to ask: this season has a Mastress for our harem. Your dear... acquaintance, I suppose... Robin Shepherd.”

“Really? Just me?”

“Shepherd, right!” Leanne slapped her forehead, “That’s why I kept thinking sheep as well as birds!”

“And we wish them luck in herding this unruly flock,” he chuckled.

“How does she know her if she’s from a videogame!” Zoe screamed. All eyes turned to her, and then she found her throat closing up under the sudden silent scrutiny. “Uh...”

“Let’s get on with the show, shall we?” the Host grasped the spotlight once more, spreading his arms wide to the invisible Audience, “Leanne’s paths are Couch Surfer, Hedonist, and Scatterbrain. Feel free to toss your suggestions into my hat below while we dash on to Contestant number seven...”

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