The Gangs All Here

Franklin rounded on Terra as soon as he was over the initial shock of seeing his younger sister on the staircase. His hands balled into fists as he made a move toward the Host. From where they were seated, Trudy wore a look of shock and disgust, and Dara’s concentrated observation was finally broken by the surprise of Zelda’s appearance.

Terra was already prepared for the Master’s reaction. Her pen slid surely across the page on her clipboard, and Franklin once again found his muscles locked in place. He could only stare into the blonde’s teasing expression as she clicked her tongue and chastised, “This again, Master Porter?”

“That’s my little sister,” Franklin growled through clenched teeth.

“Indeed, it is,” Terra responded. “Shouldn’t you be making sure she’s welcome and settled in rather than trying to accost the help?”

Terra could see the veins bulging in Franklin’s neck, and wouldn’t have been surprised if he had breathed out steam like a cartoon bull.

“You can’t possibly believe that this is OK,” Franklin spat out. At least, as well as he could without being able to move his lips.

Terra smiled and stepped up close to Franklin, speaking low enough that even the nearest eavesdropper wouldn’t be able to make out her words. “Oh, but I do. Not only are you in the hands of beings whose scope goes far, far beyond the ties of blood, but you’re forgetting that we know everything about you. Every idle fantasy, every taboo dream, every darkest impulse, is another point of data for us to mine. I’ll admit, it was your older sibling who first sparked those naughty little thoughts in you, but the audience decided to go in a different direction.”

Red bloomed on Franklin’s face, “That’s…”

“Spare me the defense, Master Porter,” Terra cut him off. “Yes, I know very well that fantasies aren’t intentions, and that you would have never done anything about those thoughts in the ‘real’ world.”

The Host ran the feather-shaped end of her pen across Franklin’s face, “But this is Harem Hotel, where reality can always be nudged in the right direction. Things can be amazing…”

As she spoke, Franklin experienced bursts of emotion accompanying snapshots of various couples. The giddy high of a first kiss, the heady anticipation of watching a lover disrobe, the soulful awe of a woman walking down the aisle.

“… or terrifying,” Terra finished, and Franklin’s mind recoiled where his body couldn’t, as disturbing scenes flooded his mind. The Host moved back and turned to approach the still confused Zelda, and as she did, Franklin felt control return to his limbs.

As he turned to make sure Zelda was OK, his eye caught Dara, who had turned around as much as she could on the couch she was stuck in. The bespectacled scientist mimed writing while turning her eyes to the host. Franklin nodded in understanding before approaching his little sister.

***

There are many reactions that contestants might have when they arrive at Harem Hotel. Stunned silence, shrieks, threatening words, sometimes even the delighted gasp of reunited love had rang out through its halls. Zelda’s reaction was a bit outside the norm. The messy-haired brunette brought up one of her suddenly gloved hands to cover a huge yawn.

Terra raised her eyebrow, “Rise and shine, princess. You have a busy evening ahead of you.”

Ignoring the Host, Franklin spoke up, “Hey Zel, still sleeping all day and gaming all night?”

Zelda shrugged, “Who needs a circadian rhythm? I’m not a Circada.” She looked around the grand lobby before musing, “Usually when I’m in a big mansion I’m dressed like Jill Valentine, this is a bit more Ada Wong, don’t you think, dream-Frank?”

Franklin shook his head, and sighed, “You’re not actually dreaming, Zel. The situation is a bit more… out there.”

Zelda looked down at her hands and thought aloud, “Noticeable disconnect in continuity, considering I was at home playing Code Vein II last I remember.” As she spoke, she pushed her finger into her palm, then pinched her nose and tried to breathe in through it. “Huh.”

“Not a dream, but I do promise that you are lucid, Miss Porter. My name is Terra,” the Host introduced herself. “Welcome to Harem Hotel!”

“Isn’t that a hentai game about banging elves and robots?” questioned the tall brunette.

“No. Well, yes, but this is a much different Harem Hotel. It’s the multiverse’s most exciting and risqué dating show, where several contestants compete for the most favorable positions in one lucky Master or Mistress's harem.”

Zelda stared at the blonde for an extended pause before replying, “Yeah, I don’t think I want to compete against my brother for anyone. We don’t exactly have the same type.”

“Well, then I have fantastic news,” Terra started, before being cut off by the Master.

“Sorry, Zel, but the… things running this show don’t seem to understand basic human relationships,” he told her. “Based on their choice of contestants, at least. They picked me as the Master.”

Zelda looked over to the women seated on the sidelines and quickly recognized a couple of them. “Trudy, huh? Always thought that you two could be good together. Oh… and she’s here. Cool.” Her usual sleepy look took on a bit of ice at Dara’s presence.

Franklin sighed, “Nobody chose to be here, Zel, but I’ll keep you safe. No one’s going to be forcing you to do anything.”

“Certainly not forcing, no,” Terra stated enigmatically. “Now, if you’ll please take a seat just over there next to the lovely lady in white, we have just one more contestant to…”

As the Host turned to direct Zelda to the couches and stretched her arm out to point the way, Franklin made his move. With a swift swipe, he grabbed the clipboard from the distracted Host’s other hand and sent her stumbling away as he moved back, the golden pen falling on the floor between them. Zelda leaned down to grab it before joining her brother, handing it over as he stared down the flustered Host.

***

As soon as the clipboard was out of the Host’s hands, Dara felt the **** that was keeping her seated dissolve, and she rushed over to Franklin to try and help. Several of the other women joined her, Trudy having shed her shoes so she could plant herself firmly between Franklin and the Host.

“What do they look like, the pages? Is it a list of our names?” Dara questioned as she reached Franklin’s side. She hoped it would be as easy as writing send home next to their names to get them out of there.

“It’s… uhm,” Franklin was having trouble describing what he saw on the page. There were symbols and swirls of ink, seeming to move around the page of their own accord. The only thing he could make out clearly was his name at the top of the page.

Zelda, looking on from Franklin’s other side, suggested, “Try to write something.”

Franklin brought the pen to the page, intending to write Zelda Porter is transported home, but the golden-quilled pen just scratched across the yellowed page, adding nothing. “Damn it,” he mumbled as he shook the pen, trying again. He felt a sting in his hand as the pen tore a small hole in the page.

“Having some trouble, Master Porter?”

Franklin looked up to see Terra back on her feet, staring him down. The Host’s face, which had thus far worn only expressions of bemused interest and understated teasing, was fixed in a glare.

Terra held up one hand, and Franklin felt the golden pen lurch out of his grasp, flying towards the Host. Catching it between her fingers as if poised to write, she said, “I’m afraid it takes the proper… touch to write with this instrument. Perhaps I can be of some assistance?”

With that, the pen flew back towards Franklin too fast for the eye to follow and slammed into the back of the clipboard with a crack. Franklin was sent backwards and off his feet, banging solidly against the wall and sliding down it into a heap. Pages spread out around him while the clipboard lay in pieces.

Terra gestured, and the pen once again returned to her hand. She looked over the woman in the lobby, most of whom were staring at Franklin as he groaned in pain. Trudy and Zelda were at his sides, while the other stood where they had been, as rigid as if they were under the effects of Terra’s magic.

The Host spoke, her tone grim, “I had hoped to wait until everyone was gathered to discuss the basics, but I suppose I’ll have to tell you now. **** against Hotel staff is strictly forbidden. If any of you had done what Master Porter did, I would have been left with **** but to remove you from our program. Allow me to give you an example of what that might look like.”

She held up her other hand, and the pages that had been scattered on the floor rose and began floating towards her, as if caught in a vortex centered around the Host. They spun around her, the symbols and scrawls coalescing into something legible, each one bearing the name of one of the contestants. Terra’s eyes began to glow a brilliant gold, and she began marking the pages as they passed, her pen always in the precise spot to add to the pages as they whipped around chaotically.

As she did, the women saw each other changing and felt the changes within themselves. Trudy saw Dara’s hair turn a bright blonde, lengthening down her back. Claudia, who had attempted to run as soon as she saw the Host reclaim the pen, struggled as her body took the pose of a famous statue, and Kennedy shrieked as she saw patches of marble-like stone begin to overtake the thief’s tanned skin.

Ira and Zelda could only watch as they each morphed almost completely, the already short role player losing even more height as her skin turned green and small tusks erupted from the lower jaw. At the same time, the taller brunette eyes drained of their light as her body shifted to resemble what could only be described as the default model of a character creator, her mind and body a fresh avatar ready for whatever customizations its user selected.

Dara was giggling as she stroked the black and white-furred terrier that had appeared in the lobby. She wondered if it would get along well with the blonde-maned mare that kept mistaking her long, silky hair for hay. At the same time, Lyra was trying to comfort Kennedy as the younger redhead began turning translucent, but couldn’t help herself from getting distracted by the realization that all of the women here were so much better than she was. If only I had done more…

Terra let the pages swirl around her for a few moments longer, then summoned them to her hand. Her eyes returned to normal, and she ran the feather over the pile, the marks fading as the women returned to their previous state. Summoning a replacement clipboard, she returned the pages to their place, making sure each was straight and organized correctly.

“There now, I do hope that it is rather clear that you’ll be expected to remain civil while we conduct our program, yes?” The Host looked over the subdued cast, from the resolute looks of Trudy and Adrienne to the shock on the younger women's faces to the disgust on Lyra’s. “I can assure you that such fates are not guaranteed, even if you are removed from the competition. As long as you retain the audience’s interest, they are generally amenable to lighter outcomes. In fact, those who finish well in the standings often leave much happier than they arrived, with the overall winner being given access to a wish, one backed by the same level of power you just experienced.”

The women stared at the Host, still too shaken by what they had gone through to start thinking about winning wishes. Seeing this, Terra decided to move on now that things were back under control. She turned her gaze to Franklin, who was still lying against the wall.

“Well, Master Porter, in a way I should thank you for setting such a good example for your harem. If one of them had tried that stunt, we’d be without one of the audience’s picks,” Terra explained. “However, any further such actions will result in some… undue harshness towards the women under your care, so do remember that. We appreciate your concern and initiative, but we need you to apply it in more constructive ways.”

With a grimace, Franklin brushed the shattered pieces of the clipboard off his stomach and pants. “I’m going to do everything possible to see them get out of here safely.”

“Then I hope you figure out the possibilities before you hurt yourself too badly,” Terra told him. “I’ll take care of that sore back in just a moment. We have one more contestant to introduce, and I’m afraid you’ve put us a bit behind schedule.”

“Another one?” Franklin asked incredulously.

“By popular demand, Master Porter,” the Host responded. “Thankfully, you were already on your way to meet her before this all started.”

____________________________________________________________________________________

About half an hour ago…

Genevieve Haverbrook rode in the car with her mother, both women wearing fetching dresses as they neared the arts district. The streetlights were already on, the sun still setting far too early as winter held sway. Evie hoped the groundhog wouldn’t see its shadow tomorrow. An early spring would be nice.

“I don’t know why we couldn’t have come for the private viewing. Macie posted all about it,” Evie complained, scrolling through her phone.

“Macie’s father is why, dear. I’m already going to be fending off enough charming folks looking to take advantage of our generosity this evening. I didn’t need to let the Governor start the campaign even earlier.”

Margaret Haverbrook was only half serious. The experienced socialite knew when to make promises and how to gently rebuff attempts, and she even enjoyed the dance on most occasions. She simply didn’t have the energy to deal with Governor Holden's complaints ruining the lovely art.

“Besides,’ she added, “I’m sure that simply posting online doesn’t beat being seen by the crowd. You’re eighteen now, every event is an opportunity to put action to your name.”

“Of course, mother,” Evie sighed. If her mother wanted her to take action, perhaps she should let her off the leash. Between sending her to St. Kate’s for college, chaperoning her at public events, and suggesting causes for her to support, Evie felt like she hadn’t made a decision on her own her whole life.

Swiping through the photos that the Governor’s daughter, a classmate of Evie’s with whom she’d bonded over overbearing parents, Evie spotted a familiar face in the background. “I’m sure Franklin would have kept us safe from the big bad Governor, Mom,” she said, holding out her phone.

Margaret huffed, “He would have spent his time showing you and Macie around and left me to the wolves, I’m sure.” She smiled, adding, “I spoke with Trudy earlier. She had good things to say about him.”

“Yeah, they’re old friends. She told me she was the same age as his older sister,” Evie offered. “She was pretty distracted today. When did you talk to her?”

“After your lesson, dear. If she was distracted, it must have been about something else,” Margaret replied. “He seems a nice young man, someone to keep an eye on, perhaps?”

Evie looked over, feigning shock, “Looking to step out on Dad? Think of the scandal.”

“It never hurts to take stock of prospects, dear. Young Mr. Porter seems a proper sort, and respectful,” Margaret lectured her daughter. “You must remember, the factory and ranch will be yours one day. The partner you choose need not be for money or mobility. You’ll be the name spoken first in any match.”

Wow, Franklin must be really good if he’s convinced Mom he’s ‘proper.’ I mean, he’s certainly no cad, but it’s easy to see from the way he works the room that he’s got some appetites.

Evie was often written off as a spoiled and sheltered girl, but she’d always enjoyed watching people. Observing her mother conducting her business had helped her grow her own instincts, and she’d been able to catch more than a few people underestimating her in the past.

The car approached the museum’s entrance, and Evie placed her phone in her clutch and checked her hair and makeup one final time in the mirror that had been installed in the car. If her mother was giving her the green light to flirt with a handsome man all night, she would certainly enjoy herself.

It didn’t take long for Franklin to spot them when they entered. Evie watched as he took two glasses of sparkling water from a table and started towards them, only to start wobbling on his feet as he did. She gasped as he dropped the glasses and hit the floor, and turned to see if there was someone who could help.

“What are you looking at, dear? You seem upset,” her mother asked.

Evie’s heart raced as she started to reply, before she looked around and realized that everything was normal. What an odd feeling, she thought, before her mother led her over to say hello to the Curator.

A few minutes later, as she looked over the paintings and resigned herself to an uneventful evening, she started to feel dizzy. She turned to find her mother to tell her she needed to sit down, when her vision narrowed and she felt herself falling, suddenly remembering the handsome face of a man she’d been looking forward to seeing.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Evie found herself at the top of a staircase, looking down at several women in gowns similar to hers, when she spotted a familiar face.

“Franklin!” she called out, in shock at the state of the man lying awkwardly against the wall with a pained expression on his face.

____________________________________________________________________________________

The Imps were boxing up the folders for the unused candidates while bickering back and forth, as usual, about who “won.”

Vee smugly crossed his arms, “Scoreboard, bro. Five contestants pitched by moi, four contestants suggested by you.”

“I’ll have to concede that, reluctantly, but the fact that the audience voted to guarantee an elimination at the end of the round? I’d say that's a feather in my cap,” Dee snapped back.

The red Imp blew a raspberry, “That just means that next round it’ll be five to three in my favor. That thief has elimination written all over her.”

“She’s far too interesting to get rid of so soon,” countered Dee. “The Ex, the hot redhead, and Pet? No chaff on my side. You’ve got a surplus role player, not to mention the girl that even this horndog Master isn’t going to go after right away.

“Wanna bet?” Vee challenged.

Dee smiled, “Always, but we can work out the terms later. Don’t you have something to present to the audience?”

“Yeah!” Shouted the red Imp. “We finally have all the contestants assembled, so you know what that means? It’s time to start the fun part. The transformations!”

Dee rubbed his hands together. “Indeed, we’ll each be suggesting a transformation for each of the contestants, but in the spirit of our season, we welcome you to make suggestions as well.”

“We’ll be opening up a call for transformation ideas for whichever contestants have caught your fancy,” Vee explained. “You can submit at our special link at the end of the chapter, post them in the comments directly, dm them on chyoa, or check out the Harem Hotel discord and send them there!”

“Terra will be curating the best of the best suggestions to add them to transformation votes and will endeavor to include a wide mix of content that touches on aspects that neither of us has made a focus. You saw just how seriously she takes her data.” Dee smiled, “If you suggest something similar to what I was already thinking, that’s a bonus, and you have excellent taste.”

Vee bounced with excitement, “While we collect and curate the perfect list of transformations, we also wanted to offer you the chance to get to know the contestants just a little bit better, so we’ll also be holding a short mini-event next chapter, where you can ask questions to any of the contestants or general questions for the pool.”

“Consider it an… icebreaker,” Dee said, stifling a chuckle. “Want to dig a bit about their kinks? See if they’d be amenable to yours? **** them to spill some secrets in front of the Master? The limit is your imagination.”

“Maybe it’ll give you a good idea for a transformation? We’ll promise to make it a good time regardless. We'll be accepting questions for 72 hours, and transformations will remain open for another three days following the Icebreaker!” Vee snapped his fingers and two links appeared on screen.

Click Here to submit questions for the contestants!

Click Here to suggest transformations!