Why, rescue your teammates, of course! Or at least your "date."

"Wow. You're so insignificant, I almost forgot to fuck with you after the kill." You slide down the delicate curve of the chandelier, and hop over to the bobeche nearest to your prey. You sit on the edge, and drape one leg over the side, pressing your heel into DarkSlayer6700's back. The Revive progress bar begins to fill, only for you to pull your foot away at the last second.

"What the fuck," he complains. "Either revive me properly or else just kill me." The rest of his squad collapses around him, dead. But for DarkSlayer6700, this is just the beginning.

"You can die when I tell you to, worm. Now crawl over to me like the loser you are." You arch your back and splay your legs in a suggestive pose. "If I touch the ground, the boss battle will start. And that simply will not do! I want you all to myself."

"I haven't seen that Gesture before," he says, crawling as close to your crotch as the "bleeding out" mechanic will allow. "What's it called?"

You laugh haughtily, wrapping your thighs around his gasmasked head, and triggering his next Revival with the toe of your boot. No doubt he wants to tell the other girls to use it, on the rare occasion they deign to play with him.

"Simple, foolish man," you taunt, letting the Revival reach 90% before kicking him away. "It's not a Gesture at all. I'm posing like this, because I choose to. Because I can. And you are going to keep crawling back to me for partial Revives until I get tired of you."

"Oh really? And what exactly do you think will compel me to do that?" But you can already hear it in his voice.

"Because you're a thirsty little bitch, and you want to see how far I'm willing to take this. Now get over here, before you bleed out."

You bite your lip and moan as you tease his revival with your foot again, putting your weight onto your elbows so you can lightly pump your hips. It doesn't have to make sense, it's lewd. "Take off your mask, worm," you command, "I want you to kiss my feet."

"Unfortunately, I can't change my equipment while I'm bleeding out. You're going to have to--" he stops talking when you kick him in the head.

"Lie to me about game mechanics again, worm, and I will let you bleed out. Transmogs are a cosmetic option. As such, they're always accessible from the options menu. Unless you expect me to believe you're actually using the Scumsucker headgear with the Friday Night Riot chestpiece, which... I suppose would explain why you died in one hit like a little bitch..."

"O-of course... the options menu..." The gasmask suddenly disappears, revealing a complete trainwreck of a face. Pockmarked with acne, covered in a greasy sheen, the features seemingly pinched and twisted into a deeply unhappy sneer, his face is an absolute caricature of bitterness and self-neglect. And that's before you even get into how mismatched the texture is with the underlying geometry of the hero mesh.

Your own face starts to laugh before you can even trigger an emote. You reflexively clap your hands over your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. He starts to pull away in embarrassment, but you wrap your legs around him again.

"Oh, honey! What is this custom avatar? It's grotesque! I absolutely love it! How did you even make this!? I didn't know there were any cosmetic options for acne..." He grimaces, baring his teeth.

"Oh my god... are those braces?" You tap your foot on his back repeatedly, idly toggling the Revival mechanic on and off. "You actually hand-painted braces onto your avatar's teeth!? But..." You frown. "The shadows... the freckles... the little imperfections... Just how much time did you spend making this?" He's turning red now. Wait... what's that grey smudge by the ear? It looks artificial. You're positive you've seen that shape somewhere before. And the color reminds you of... your own Virtual Perfect suit!

No way. Your jaw drops. "You used the selfie-scan feature!?"

He really tries to pull away now, and you need to press your legs tightly around him to prevent his escape. This makes it painful to laugh, so you struggle to hold it in.

"Oh, no. Honey! No..." You transmog your boots away, just to motivate him to stop struggling so hard. It seems to work, for the moment, but it's possible you may have gone too far. Bruised his ego too hard for him to keep putting up with your bullshit, even if some twisted version of sex is on the table. The moment he stops struggling, you flop on your back and let the laugh out of your system that's been building.

This is the infamous pervert that's been humping every vaguely feminine player and NPC that crosses his path!? You laugh and laugh and laugh.

"I'm so sorry," you sputter, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I can't! I just can't right now! It looks so much like you did it on purpose! You look like something out of Monster Factory! Like you were trying to make the most nasty little caricature of an incel nerd pervert you could think of, and then cranked it up to 11 by leaning into the Uncanny Valley!" A sound effect plays, but you're laughing too hard to pay it much heed.

"You look like if Alfred E. Neuman got his face stuck in a waffle iron! Like a cross between Old Macaulay Culkin and a map of the surface of Mars! Like if you took ten pounds of bologna, pressed it into a mold shaped like a sysadmin's face, compressed it with jpeg artifacts, spraypainted the whole mess onto Chris Hemsworth's head, and then beat it with a crowbar until both sides were evenly swollen!"

You laugh for several minutes. When it's all out of your system, you catch your breath, wipe your face, and set all your clothes to Nude.

"I'm so sorry about that," you say, sitting upright and demurely crossing your legs. "You're a beautiful and complete person. Why don't I give you two minutes to do whatever you want with me, and we'll just pretend that little outburst didn't happen? Sound good?"

Of course, DarkSlayer6700 is long dead, by this point.

"Your loss," you say, hopping down from the chandelier and resetting your transmogs.