Marigold meets up with Kiona.

"Okay," Marigold relented. "I'll go get Kiona for you. Just let me clean myself up, please?"

Harry grinned. "Sure," he said, lifting his camera again. "Just lick your lips first, honey, and you can be on your way."

Marigold flushed. There was no end to this man's perversions, was there? Reluctantly, she licked her lips, pretending she was just cleaning herself up after eating an ice cream cone. There was no mistaking that sticky, salty taste on her tongue for ice cream, though.

Once Harry had gotten his photos, he proved to be a man of his word-- somewhat-- and let her clean herself up. He even helped her to put her cosplay back on, seeming again for a moment like the kind, honest man that Marigold had originally confused him for. But then he slapped her on her bum, and the illusion was shattered all over again. "Get out there, tiger," he said. "And bag me another tiger to have some fun with."

Marigold hated every word that came out of his mouth. She hated that she had fallen for his tricks. Most of all she hated that she had agreed to sell out Kiona for this man, but she didn't have any other choice. Kiona was a good person. She would understand that this was what her dear friend Mari needed to do.

Harry sent Marigold on her way. Being in the convention hall again after everything that had happened seemed so surreal. Even walking around was a bit funny. Her legs still felt a little bit like jelly after the two orgasms that she had achieved with the dubious help of Horny Harry and his titillating toys.

Finding Kiona was simple. She didn't exactly blend into the crowd, after all. Marigold followed the cries of "Pharah!" and "Wow, take a picture with me!" until she ran into her friend again. Kiona was surrounded by fan boys and girls, all adoring her in her armor. She looked so proud, which only made Marigold's heart sink a little deeper.

"Hey Mar-- er, Mercy!" 'Pharah' said in an impeccable accent. Kiona's dedication to the craft of cosplay was incredible, and she had even perfectly replicated Fareeha Amari's under-eye tattoo. "Where did you get off to, my sister?"

Get off to, she had said. If only she knew what Marigold had been doing for the past God-knows-how-long. If only she knew what Marigold was here to get her into, not to mention.

"Good afternoon, Fareeha!" Marigold said, trying and failing to do Ziegler's Swiss accent. "Could you follow me? Alone? I need your help with something."

Kiona smiled. "Of course, my friend," she said.