That's Not A Knife...

Tessa

Jenny asked her to let her work out her date on her own, so Tessa let her. She is getting her daily soak in the pool done while she contemplates Jamina’s advice. She is the one to shore up the harem’s hope should it flag, if the mechanics of her class is to be believed. Bardic inspiration is a powerful thing, if she can use it correctly. The difficulty is in using it correctly. Timing is tricky.

The other bit, the need to be ruthless, sits hard in her gut. On the one hand, she understands. On the other, it is repulsive. Can she make herself do that, when the foe on the other end of her blade is real? She sits, resting her lungs, gills happily pumping the saltwater of the pool, and measures herself.

Tessa is so lost in her musings that she is surprised by the bulge held back by tight leather pants waiting for her at the surface.

“Hey. Tessa, is it?”

Tessa pulls herself out of the pool. She sits beside him on the edge, not wanting to deal with getting redressed just yet. The warm sun feels good on her dripping bare skin.

“Yes. Do you need something, Harith?” Tessa hears the tone of her voice and regrets it almost immediately. That sounded more hostile than I intended...

The incubus takes a moment to glance at her bare form. “I guess it’s your turn to interrogate me?”

“Sorry. You surprised me, is all.”

Harith has more manners than the heritage and tattoos suggest. “Apology accepted. If I may risk an offensive question of my own, may I ask what your whole deal is? I’m playing catch up and I don’t know much about any of you.”

“I’m not offended, but ‘my deal?’ Would you care to elaborate?”

“You look an awful like a somehow curvier version of our Host. Not that I am complaining or anything...”

“Ah. That. She’s my sister. My first transformation essentially turned me into her twin as if we were both born here.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments. A light breeze comes across the pool, teasing Tessa’s hair. The sun feels so good right now; how can anyone stand to cover up when the weather is this beautiful?

Harith breaks the silence, with another question. “Not going to start with the third-degree on me?”

“I trust my sister. It would be the height of foolishness to bring you in after Craig if you were going to be just another version of him.”

A tension leaves those impressive shoulders as he lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. Yesterday did... not go great for me.”

“I saw some of that. How do you want to address it?”

“The others will either learn to trust me or they won’t. I can’t do much about it. The flying transformation is kind of whatever. One minute of flight a day isn’t much. I can see it being helpful in the heat of combat, eventually, but for now...” Harith pauses, running his thumb along the pommel of his sword, “What they did to my Alanis hurts more. She’s sentient, sure, and she will be quite powerful if I can get her to the point where she’ll be fun for Mona and I, but, if my attempts to get XP in combat work like last night...”

Again, he pauses. Tessa brings herself to ask, “How bad is it?”

“Alanis can think like an adult, but nothing really has context. She doesn’t know anything. And she is so emotionally flat right now. I want her to live, but she doesn’t know how and can’t manage to care.”

“Would the XP you would earn from combat training count to fix those things?”

“Combat training?”

Tessa stands up. She offers the incubus a hand. “Today seems to be a good day for me to get my scimitar expertise. Perhaps you can buy yourself some Alanis training time? We can go together, if you like.”

Harith’s eyes are focused a little lower on Tessa than is strictly polite. The sea elf can’t blame him. Still, he takes the offered hand and pulls himself up with a rakish grin. “Why not?”

Why not indeed?

Harith: -20 BP (Training Session)

Tessa: -20 BP (Training Session)

Ootah

After the meeting, Kevin approached Ootah about doing some exploration of the amenities floor. He wanted to put some lessons from his season sampling into practice today. Something about letting the Hotel provide narrative momentum for them?

So, they are walking through the floor. After the mess of yesterday, with the demon’s introduction, it is nice to just have something simple and easy to do. They pass so many random storefronts. Then, a place that Ootah must go check out catches her eye. She drags Kevin towards it.

They walk in. It feels like home, though she has only read about it. Kevin, annoyed, but not to the point of arguing, notes that it is a bit like a dive bar. It is narrower than it looked from the outside. A few tables bolted to a wooden floor are arranged along one wall. Opposite it, a long wooden bar lines the space. In the back, it appears to be a small kitchenette, with a sign in Orcish declaring it off-limits, unless you are volunteering for KP duty. And, of course, a small circular sand pit in place of a stage.

In other words, it is an exact replica of an officer’s mess wagon from back when the Heart-Taker clan was a nomadic war band.

“Is THAT really necessary?” Kevin grumbles.

Ootah looks at what the bull is complaining about. Her futacock hardens instantly, almost painfully straining against her loincloth. The painting up behind the bar is quite titillating: Mona, lying across a chaise lounge, nude, as a breeding slut orc. She’s got that cute smile she has right before she suggests something filthy. Her tits, bigger than her head, are pebbled. Her tummy is gravid with so many orc eggs. Her little futacock erect and straining against a cock cage.

“Little early to start drinking?” a voice sarcastically declares. It pulls Ootah away from the painting. She sees a rather muscular hoppalong with dark black hair. She is dressed in orcish armor, which shows off her girl abs quite nicely. She’s got enough scars to make Ootah think she’s not a complete pushover.

“Just checking the place out for now,” Kevin offers.

“Cool. Welcome to the Girthy Gock. No, I don’t have one. I’m Jo Jo. I lucked out when Mama Tina didn’t get to name me. Let me know if you want something. We got grog. Just grog.”

Ootah’s attention turns back to the sand pit. “You don’t happen to play Knifey Spoony, do you cousin?”

“Knifey Spoony?” Kevin asks, skeptically.

Jo Jo pulls out a Knifey Spoony set from her Inventory. She explains for Kevin, “Knifey Spoony is a beloved game among meatheads. In the bag are five knives, of varying standard length, and one spoon. The players say the magic phrase and randomly draws out an implement. The bigger knife wins. A player can challenge who drew the bigger knife, which is typically decided by the players stabbing each other. If a player draws the spoon, they have to act like it is a knife; that player wins the round if they can convince their opponent that it is an actual knife. Make sense?”

Kevin rubs his temples. “That sounds... really, really dumb. Like suicidally dumb.”

“Like I said, a game for meatheads. Fortunately for you, cousin, I am a meathead. Unfortunately for you, I never lose.”

“WHEN I win,” Ootah growls, “I get the painting of Mona.”

“Well, when I win, you pose for a painting for the bar.”

They nod to each other. Kevin sighs, “If you two are going to do this, I am going to need a grog first...”

Jo Jo smirks as she makes the drink. She starts by muddling some lime wedges in a couple shots of rum, then adds some brown sugar syrup. She strains out the bigger chunks of lime as she pours the mix into a tankard, then fills the rest up with boiling water. She slides the resulting drink to the bull, who takes a sip.

Ootah is already in the ring, her Knifey Spoony set on her hip. Jo Jo takes the opposite position, asking, “Best of three?”

Ootah nods, hand twitching for some Knifey Spoony action.

“THAT’S NOT A KNIFE...” they chant, then draw, finishing with. “THIS IS A KNIFE!”

Ootah quickly checks. Half of the game is knowing when to challenge. Jo Jo drew better. Guess that I am down one...

The hoppalong has a wolfish grin. “One to zero, favoring me. Want to concede now and save yourself further embarrassment?”

Ootah’s hand returns to her set. “Nah, it’ll make my victory sweeter.”

They draw again. Shit. I drew my spoon. And she drew a big knife. This is gonna suck...

Jo Jo begins the traditional saying, “That’s not a knife, that’s a...”

“Challenge! My knife is bigger than your knife!”

The hoppalong blinks, not expecting such a brazen reaction. Then, shrugging, they get to challenge position. Ootah grits her teeth and flexes her abs as the blade slips inside her. She puts everything she has into a thrust of her spoon. Jo Jo staggers back, her knife clattering out of Ootah’s gut.

“FUCK! Alright, you won that round!”

Kevin is already getting up. Ootah puts pressure on her wound. “Healing in the middle of the match is against the rules. Unless cousin here wishes to concede?”

There is a fire in the bunny’s eyes, “Fuck that.”

One last chant. One last draw.

Ootah smiles as she declares, “That’s not a knife, that’s a spoon.”

Jo Jo winces, “I see you’ve played Knifey Spoony before. Painting’s yours. Now, someone please fix my punctured gut!”

Still holding her side, Ootah makes her way behind the bar to get her prize. Kevin uses Lay on Hands to patch up the dark haired hoppalong, who is cussing up a storm. The painting is pulled into Ootah’s Inventory. This will look so hot hanging up over the fireplace...

When, he approaches after fixing Jo Jo, Kevin grumbles, “I have half a mind to leave you like that for doing something so dumb for such a gross prize...”

“If it was Winter splayed out like that, would you be saying the same thing?”

The gentle warmth of Lay on Hands fills Ootah as her stab wound knits itself closed. “Fair point. You really want Mona looking like that?”

“Most of it, nah. I don’t need Mona as an orc to find her sexy. The orc eggs in her tummy part of it, yeah, one day. When she’s ready.”

Kevin sighs, “No offense, but that is a relief. Can we get out of here now?”

“Sure, my comrade in arms.”

I can always come back later.

Mona

“So, who are we getting for a fourth?”

Winter pulls out his phone, probably intending to text Andromeda. “Your sexy android is busy. Dunno.”

Esme, meanwhile, is already on the phone, “Yo, Mama. I’m borrowing Myrkul for a thing.”

Suddenly, Tyalangan is here. She smiles, already shuffling up a deck. “Someone has to keep my combo-bunny-daughter in check. I’ll play. Not like the audience hasn’t seen me naked already.”

Esme pouts, as she sits across from the sea elf. “Well, I’m gonna win.”

“We’ll see. From those of you that don’t know, Myrkul, Lord of Bones, is a 7 leylines deity in WBG that turns dying creatures into non-creature enchantments. I am playing Lendys, Scale of Justice. 6 leylines deity that gains +1/+1 counters whenever I cast a spell based on the number of colors in said spell. I can remove 5 of those counters once a turn to generate 10 leylines, two of each color. Shall we begin?”

As the early turns go on (I got to go first!), Esme explains the rules, “Okay, so every 10 life or 5 commander damage, you take off an article of clothing. When I knock you out, you have to sit there and edge until I win. Don’t worry, I should finish you off all at once, so it won’t be too long.”

Tyalangan rolls her eyes at her daughter. Then Mona got to do the first cool thing. She cast this spell that let her find four different leylines, one of which had some really cool art on it, and Tyalangan makes both of the red ones (including the cool art one!) go to the graveyard. Then, Winter plays that mean Collar again!

“BOO!”

Tyalangan smiles, then turns to Winter. “You know who’ll be the problem first, right son?”

“I do,” he replies, then he attacks Esme.

“You really want to see your bunny-sister’s bosom, big bro?”

“My Mistress does.”

I really do...

The bunny-bullying continues, as Winter kills Esme’s creature and attacks again, even with a Sphere of Safety to discourage it. Esme pulls off her shirt. Her plump breasts plop out, as she apparently didn’t wear a bra today. Mona drools, barely paying attention to the others’ turns. She pays the fancy art leyline from her graveyard (due to the Naga Excavator) and drops an enchantment thing that gives things riot, ‘cause riot sounds like a cool thing.

Winter does this thing where he sacrifices a leyline to go get a basic one then gets ready to tap Eilistraee to kill something. Esme whines, “Maaaamaaaa, Winter is bullying me.”

“Esme, my child, don’t be a child. Winter, the excavator is the bigger problem.”

“That assumes Mona understands the infinite mana loops in there. She doesn’t. If she did, she wouldn’t have just hit you with that Bouncing Sabertooth instead of keeping it safe in hand until she has enough lands. Also, I did kind of just curb stomp her.”

Tyalangan sighs, then offers up her mermaid creature to Eilistraee’s need for experience counters. Winter takes it, then apparently becomes “the problem.” He plays this barbarian guy riding a boar that lets him find another equipment, this weird helmet? Mona does not get it.

Esme slips out of her skirt when Winter hits her again. Then, it’s her turn. She got enough leylines to play her deity, but she doesn’t. Tyalangan exiles all of the creatures.

BOO! My board! Mona looks at her hand. Ooooh, this guy gets bigger as I get more leylines! Let’s play him!

“Riot trigger?” Tyalangan asks.

“We riot!”

Tyalangan explains the trigger. Mona chooses immediate violence and smacks Winter in the face with her new guy. I’M the problem now!

Winter recasts Eilistraee and smacks Tyalangan with her. The Host slips off her coat. The curve of her corsetted tummy is more apparent, as is her (smaller than Mona’s) boobs. Mona still can’t believe that Tyalangan didn’t get bigger knockers. I mean, that sexy Laura dragon’s boobs were pretty big! The others play their deities. Mona still can’t afford her’s, but she can cast this seven leylines thing. Then, she hits Winter with her big guy. He takes off his top, causing Mona to drool over his cute boy chest.

“Mona, I’m right here,” Tyalangan moans.

“Okay, everyone is starting to be the problem,” Winter declares, as he puts the weird helm thing on Eilistraee. When he moves to combat, he gets a second Eilistraee. “Ten at you, Mistress. Now everyone lost some clothes.”

Mona shrugs and takes off her cow ear headband, apologizing to Daphne. Tyalangan chuckles, noting, “She’ll get over it, especially if it leads to more boobs on display.”

Mona nods. The others do stuff, then it’s her turn again! She plays a leyline, then, with a Thaumaturgy enhanced shout of “TRIPLE HEADED TARRASQUE!!!!!!” finally plays her deity.

“On the ETB trigger, I cast Purger’s Charm. You got one leyline floating.”

Destroy target nonblack creature? BOO!

“Sorry, can’t let you keep THT on the board.”

“Oooh, Legion’s Charm! Aha, my tarrasque is indestructible!”

“Well, you got it.”

Mona has a lot of fun, even if she “did it wrong.” She gives her bestest boy haste with her RIOT! Trigger. She flips her Mosswort Bridge card; now she has triple leyline power! Then she ramps out a couple more leylines with a spell. And she gives her bestest boy double strike.

“Math is for blockers, Winter!”

Off goes a bunch of clothes, as Winter is down to 5. Aha! I’m gonna win!