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File 122436552134.jpg - (542.97KB , 1500x1053 , RagingMystia.jpg ) [iqdb]
8805 No. 8805
Welcome, one and all, to my new weekend diversion. HLA updates resume on Monday, but for now...

***

Prologue - That's Life

***

Duck, twist, dodge, weave.

"Drat!"

With a rather inventive cross between a hop and a jig, you manage to evade the newest glowing projectile sent your way. The blazing orb of light streaks by entirely too close for comfort, grazing your shirt with a surprisingly solid "tak" noise, and leaving the fabric singed an ashen black; a shame, really, as it was a nice shirt. The luminous missile impacts a tree up ahead and fizzles out with a hiss, doing no apparent damage. It's impressive how hardy these trees are, really; the visible trail of searing haze left by the ball of light suggests to you that these trees can take a good deal more punishment than you yourself can. Ah, the wonders of nature!

From somewhere behind you, a disappointed cry and a replying chorus of girlish giggles prompts you to take your life in a new direction. You reach out and capture the nearest tree by the waist, then use your impromptu partner to swing around the corner just before a storm of luminescent projectiles swarms on your previous position with a tremendously impressive whine. My word, but your pursuers are a rather dangerous bunch, aren't they? You make a note that the whimsical creatures are perhaps not the best to attempt conversation with in this strange new world, no matter how endearingly cute they may be. And they certainly are cute.

For example, the one right in front of you is unrepentantly adorable. A diminutive little girl in rather fancy dress, flying along on two pairs of insect-like wings. Her smoothe porcelain skin gives her the appearance of a finely crafted doll, and the bright little smile that lights up her face is so innocent that it stirs your heart. Ah, if only you could take these girls in your arms and protect them, then--

Wait a moment, please.

She is right in front of you, yes?

"Oh dear."

The little darling lunges forward and nuzzles its face against yours, capturing your neck in its small arms in an act that is unmistakably a miniature hug. Ah, how heartwarming! What is perhaps slightly less heartwarming is the faint whine, and the heat and light that are building in its body. You reach up and take one of the trickster's hands into your own, gently disengaging her from yourself and startling the poor dear something awful.

Without ceasing your running, you leap into the air and perform a remarkably graceful pirouette considering the circumstances. The girl whose hand is clasped in yours is rather unprepared for the movement, and is quickly growing dizzy. You note with some relief that girl is too disoriented to unleash her little present upon you, but feel some concern for the fact that her gathering of energy has not yet ceased.

"My sympathies, darling, but this will hurt you far more than it will me."

You release her hand with only a pang of regret, sending her tumbling through the air behind you, straight towards the group of her friends that has emerged from the trees. You come out of your spin to the sound of several shrieks followed by a loud series of popping noises at your back. Finding the notion of seeing what trouble you may have caused the girls distasteful, you charge ahead through the trees, and much to your surprise find yourself emerging onto a clearly defined dirt road.

Yes, a road, a path, the hallmark of civilization! Which means no cover at all. Lovely!

Fortunately, you do hear some singing in the distance, and there is always a chance that such a melodious voice belongs to someone reasonable enough to offer you sanctuary for the moment. Safety in numbers, as they say. With little alternative, you sprint as well as you can toward the beautiful song, hoping that you have sufficiently distracted your pursuers with your latest antics to reach your destination without trouble.

Ah, but wishful thinking is named such for a reason, yes?

A loud rustling and a high-pitched shout alert you to the girls having resumed their chase. Well, you're committed to your destination now, and what would you be if you could not keep your commitments? You keep focused on the lovely voice up ahead, using the audible whine of the girls' shots as a cue for your dodges. You find it surprisingly easy, actually, which is quite fortunate for one rather worrying reason:

As you draw closer to the voice you seek, your vision grows progressively dimmer.

The escapade lasts a few minutes more, until you catch sight of a red glow in the distance. As you grow closer, you can just make out a cart of some kind on the side of the road, setup as a stall of some sort or another. Two women are seated at the stall's bar, unaware of your approach, and one woman stands behind the bar, presumably the owner; she seems to be the one singing. The singer glances up at you and waves, presenting a dazzling smile that quickly transforms into a look of shock as you hop to avoid another glowing bullet.

"My apologies, dear, but if you would duck and cover for a moment?"

The women at the bar glance up at your shout, but there's no time to give them your greetings for the moment. You close the distance to the stall faster than you realized you were capable of, vaulting over the bar as you close in and tackling the owner to the floor. She shrieks in surprise and struggles against you, but no matter how improper it is to go about diving at young women, you do not let her up. It's a good thing, too, considering that moments later a series of bright lights thunders through the air above you, blowing several holes in the wooden frame of the stand. The barrage keeps up for longer than you expected, sending splinters showering down on you and the woman beneath you, who seems to have frozen in place. You can't blame her, mind, this all should be very surprising, and--

>> No. 8806
File 122436557142.jpg - (130.67KB , 850x637 , ExKeine (2).jpg ) [iqdb]
8806
"MY STALL!"

You're thrown back as the woman beneath you leaps to her feet with more strength you had dreamed possible. In the blink of an eye she clears the stand entirely, hurling herself towards the attacking group of girls. You climb numbly to your feet, a bit shaky, and brace yourself against the counter. Concerned for the enraged woman, you glance warily out at the road, and see...

The woman, an indistinct blur of browns, whites, and pinks, sweeping through your attackers like a whirlwind. When you see one of the doll-like girls split in half at the waist, you avert your gaze and cover your mouth in an attempt to stem any rising bile that might come. That will certainly solve that problem, though you can't see you like seeing those girls killed, no matter how much trouble they caused you.

After a short frenzy of light and sound, everything dies down and becomes silent. You're about to chance glancing up, when the owner of the stall leaps back in, causing the floor to shake beneath you. You can't discern much other than her brown dress from her crouching position on the ground, but--

"YOU LITTLE SHIT!"

A horrid bolt of pain runs through you as your back impacts one of the stall's shredded wooden walls, causing what little is left to buckle and snap from the force. The owner of the stall holds you in the air with one hand, her face right up against yours, nothing more than glinting yellow eyes and viciously sharp teeth. Her lips curled back in an angry snarl, she pulls an arm back, displaying a hand with horrifically sharp nails ready to claw.

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

You shut your eyes as her hand plunges toward you, your heart stopping in your chest for a moment.

"You've got guts to attack a human right in front of me, Mystia Lorelei."

You crack your eyes open when no pain comes to you. One of the women seated at the bar - that's right, there were two women there, weren't there? - has reached and seized the owner's arm, stopping it cold. The owner, Miss Lorelei apparently, growls angrily.

"Keine."

Your savior at the bar grins, her razor sharp teeth twinkling dangerously and doing nothing to calm you. The woman is a startling beauty, with sharp features and a body to kill for; her green dress looks at least a size too small, clinging to the shape of her perfect curves as though it were made for someone else entirely, the collar of the one-piece almost straining to keep her impressive bust from view. You tear your eyes away from her inhumanly perfect figure to find that it's not the only inhuman thing about her: a set of sharp ivory horns emerge from her long silvery hair, which shines an unnatural green under the moonlight. A feral aura emanates from her, dampened only slightly by the cute little red bow tied around one of her horns.

"Really, Mystia, you'd best drop him."

Miss Lorelei narrows her eyes.

"Or what?"

Miss Keine's grin grows wider.

"Have I ever told you..."

Before you know what's going on, you find yourself dropped to the floor. You look up to see Miss Lorelei caught from behind in the embrace of Miss Keine, whose hands have slid under the poor stall owner's clothing in a most inappropriate way. The horned woman leans down and licks her horrified captive's ear suggestively.

"... that you have a nice ass?

The moonlight take that precise moment to shine unsettlingly on Miss Keine's horns, causing them to gleam in a way the sends shivers down your spine. The woman releases her now trembling prisoner and drops to the floor, slithering along it until she's right on top of you, pinning your hips to the ground with her own in a manner that, while not entirely unpleasant, makes you feel distinctly uneasy.

"Of course, if you want to find a way to punish him, I might be willing to help."

Without warning, she darts her head forward and bites lightly into your neck, suckling on it hard enough that it's sure to leave a mark. A whimper escapes you as she grind her body against yours, and it occurs to you that she may be more dangerous than Miss Lorelei. Just as her pale, slim fingers find their way to your pants, she's yanked off of you most abruptly.

"That's quite enough of that, Keine. You really are a beast on the full moon, you know that?"

The words are punctuated by a raucous laughter, and the other woman you saw the bar pulls Keine away from both you and Miss Lorelei. A small wave of relief washes over you; this new woman seems much more sensible than her fellow bargoer. She still has a decidedly otherworldly look to her, with her crimson eyes and flowing white hair. Her attire is most strange: a pair of bright red suspenders, the pants to which are plastered with little paper amulets of some sort, black boots, and a white shirt that has been charred brown in many places; you note that her otherwise fair skin bears several similar burn markings. Miss Keine immediately begins hanging off the woman, who merely rolls her eyes.

"So you want to take his punishment for him, Mokou? How very noble, I'll have to reward you for that..."

"Down girl."

Miss Mokou cuffs Miss Keine across the head hard enough to send the horned woman to the floor. Strolling forward with a confident swagger, Miss Mokou reaches down and pulls both you and Miss Lorelei up none too gently. She offers a grin as she claps uncomfortably hot hands down on each of your shoulders.

"Alright, since Keine's feeling a bit overenthusiastic tonight, looks like I'll be handling negotiations this time. Let's begin."

Though what she says sounds reasonable, you have a bad feeling about all this. Just what have you gotten yourself into?

---

You wave a hollow goodbye to Mokou and Keine as they stroll into the distance, and shudder as Keine blows you and your new employer a goodbye kiss.

In the end, those two had saved your life by forcing Miss Lorelei to agree to refrain from murdering you. Then they handed it over to her by forcing you to agree to pay off your debt to the stall owner. Compliance was... not optional.

Turning your head, you observe your new boss. Miss Lorelei has an empty look in her once passionate yellow eyes, and she sits at one of her own bar stools with a notable slump. She's somewhat uninspiring right now, a little pale figure shrouded in heaps of brown fabric, no matter how decorated her clothes may be. Without the constant fear and discomfort clouding your thoughts, you notice for the first time that she has an odd shade of pink hair, and little feathered tufts poking out of it roughly where her ears would be. Not to mention the pair of sparrow wings that poke out the back of her dress, slumping just like she is.

Just where did you end up after looking into that strange crack, anyway?

You rub your forehead in frustration. A headache is setting in. Fantastic.

[ ] "So, what now?"

[ ] Get up and leave.
>> No. 8807
Is this going to be like the other one, with all the sex and everything?

I mean, that sort of thing just doesn't do it for me, so I wanna know before I invest any attachment, is all.
>> No. 8808
>>8807

No. One route only, all Mystia. The chances of you scoring with anyone else are exactly zero. Period.
>> No. 8809
[X] "So, what now?"

FFFFFUUUUUCCCCKKKKK......that was quite a crazy party, this looks like it could be good
>> No. 8810
>>8806
[X] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8811
[X] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8812
[x] Get up and leave.

in b4 STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM
>> No. 8813
[X] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8816
[Q] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8817
[X] "So, where am I?"
>> No. 8818
>>8808

I think he meant "is this going to have a lot of sex?"
>> No. 8819
>>8808
>The chances of you scoring with anyone else are exactly zero.

Pfffft. Nice one, nigga. But you're not fooling anyone.
>> No. 8820
>>8819

YAF, why do you always have to be such a faggot in Patchwork's threads?
>> No. 8822
>>8820

Since when is being honest being a faggot?
>> No. 8823
>>8822
When you're not being honest in favor of being a faggot.
>> No. 8824
>>8823

Well, but I AM being honest here, you gotta admit, Patchwork and staying on target do not combine, no matter how hard you try to fool yourself.
>> No. 8825
>>8824
>Patchwork and staying on target do not combine, no matter how hard you try to fool yourself.
Blatant trolling aside, inform me how it does not compute, YAF.

Sage because I'm not really contributing at all.
>> No. 8826
>>8824

And how many times did TS and its spin-offs close with a harem ending?
>> No. 8827
>>8825

Basically, a story by Patchwork is a struggle where the reader tries to avoid H while Patchwork throws it at him.
>> No. 8829
>>8825

Remember HLA? The proof is right there. End of discussion, enjoy vaginas being thrown at you at every step. I know you will, and there's nothing wrong with that. I'm just a moralfag that would rather stick with one girl than stick it in all of them.

selfsage for above reason
>> No. 8830
File 122437498892.gif - (556.39KB , 352x198 , 1215426480702.gif ) [iqdb]
8830
>>8827 >>8829
Jesus almighty christ on a fucking pogostick I want to hate both of you BALD for being idiots.
>> No. 8831
>>8830

It's true, though. First Mima, then Lunasa, and then Anon actively started avoiding the H. Sorry if it hurts to hear the truth, but it's for your best, even if you don't want to hear it.
>> No. 8832
>>8831

Who was the 'target' in HLA anyway?
>> No. 8833
[X] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8834
>>8832

The first one they met, of course. Yuyuko.
>> No. 8835
[X] "So, what now?"
>> No. 8836
>>8832

You sure have a firm grasp on the story—I guess to back up all those strong opinions about it you seem to hold.
>> No. 8837
>>8836

Nah, I was just confused, because you kept flirting and having sex with all the girls, so it was rather hard to determine which one was the 'target'.
>> No. 8839
>>8837
didn't you have enough of this on IRC you boring faggot
>> No. 8840
>>8837
Holy shit I never realized doing the dirty with Mima and mutually masturbating Lunasa equated to "sex with all the girls". Jesus YAF< you are probably every single shitty troll HLA has. Now can we please stop shitting up Patchwork's thread? Goddamn.
>> No. 8841
>>8840

Look here:
>flirting
>> No. 8846
>>8841

What's wrong with flirting? Your "Naya" did so constantly, even when already engaged in AAA or married in BKC.
>> No. 8848
OKAY, THE BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP.

YAF, you acted like a dick, baiting Patchwork's supporters until one of them bit. And he bit, and he bit HARD, and you're enjoying this. Cut it the fuck up, now.

And you, anonymous whoever-you-are. Saying "Oh, so-and-so's story is just as bad!" is not an excuse for a completely different story's flaws. So you cut it out, too.

And who am I, that I feel so qualified to smack the both of you over the head like this? I'm the guy who asked if there was going to be sex in the first place. And my question was answered in the VERY NEXT POST, by PATCHWORK HIMSELF.

So shut it.
>> No. 8849
>>8841
YAF, stop
Bad YAF, go back to your own shit story. No need to ruin it for the people who enjoy it.
>> No. 8850
>>8848

Aww, now that's just ruining my fun! Come on, I have to wait several hours for enough votes, let me entertain myself in the meantime! It's kind of boring to wait idly.
>> No. 8851
>>8850
Video games are a fun way to waste time.
Trolling people and being generally unlikable could be as fun, but overall just annoys others.
>> No. 8852
>>8850
You could anwer my question.
>> No. 8853
>>8852

Which one? This one: >>8846 ?

Oh, that's simple. I've never forced staying on target in TS, AAA, or BKC. It also wasn't what my readers wanted. Therefore, we didn't stay on target. That's the whole story.

>>8851

And your anger and despise only make my penis harder.

You people need a lesson on how to deal with trolls. You know what it is that trolls fear the most? Lack of attention. Ignore a troll, and it will be his undoing. But should you feed him, it will only make him stronger and more willing to act. There isn't such a thing as a 'shitty troll'. If he gets reactions - angered reactions - he's successful. If not, he's not a troll, but just an idiot.

Now, you want to make me feel like an idiot, right? You get the hint. Now make use of it.
>> No. 8854
YAF's CYOAs are trolls, they are to be ignored.
>> No. 8855
>>8853
How long until CoMN is over? Oh, and will you do a Q&A Session when you are done?
>> No. 8856
I like Patchwork's stuff. YAF, stop being a faggot.
>> No. 8858
File 122438902228.jpg - (150.79KB , 720x900 , mystia079.jpg ) [iqdb]
8858
[X] "So, what now?"

***

Well, nothing for it, eh? A man pays his dues, after all, and you do owe her a spot for the ruin of her business establishment. It's troubling, but that's life for you.

"So, what now?"

Miss Lorelei turns her head and stares at you disbelievingly.

"That's it? You're not going to complain, you're not going to try and get out of the deal? You're just going to sit there and accept it?"

"Miss Lorelei," you take your cap off and hold it against your heart, "what would I be if I could not keep to my commitments? While the situation has momentarily escaped me, I suppose I am responsible for the damage of your property, and for that I owe you recompense. More importantly, I have already agreed to be in your employ, and a deal, as they say, is a deal."

You extend a hand for her to shake, and offer as pleasant a smile as you can muster in your tired state.

"Pleased to be in your care."

She redirects her stare to your hand, unblinking.

"You're a bigger idiot than Cirno."

Idiot? How uncouth. But, then, perhaps...

You chuckle and retract your hand, as it becomes evident that she has no intention of shaking. A bit rude of her, yes, but not entirely unwarranted; you have, after all, committed several improprieties against her already. She is under no obligation to be pleased with your company.

"Putting that to one side," you reach up and finger the slight swelling on your neck, "I highly doubt that either one of us fancies a sporting round of being raped, and if I were to violate the terms of our agreement, I get the distinct feeling that Miss Keine would find me no matter where I might run."

Miss Lorelei shivers a little, a glint of some distant fear in her eye.

"That's... probably true." She stutters her words a bit. Rising shakily from her seat, she trudges around behind the bar and ducks down to search for something. After a bit of rummaging, she emerges with a brown blanket. "I'm too tired to deal with this right now, and I'm going to sleep. I suggest you do the same."

She removes her beanie-like hat, setting it down wherever she pulled the sheet from, and moves over to the corner of the stall, where she wraps the sheet about herself and curls up to sleep. Not much work ethic on display there, but given what just happened to her little enterprise, you're not particularly surprised. You sigh and walk around to join her behind the counter; if you're to follow her instructions, then you won't have much to do while she's sleeping.

You set your cap down beside hers in the little cupboard beneath the bar. Don't want the old Gatsby to be blown away, after all. A fine hat, that one. That done, you lay down with your back to the rear wall of the stall, and prepare to sleep; not the most comfortable of positions, but beggars can't be choosers. You're fairly certain that you'll be safe with Mystia around, given the impossible strength she demonstrated earlier, and that's a fair bit better off than you were when you first arrived in this strange forest.

You don't have your own sheet to sleep with, but you'll mostly be sleeping through the day, and you've a nice little jacket to keep you warm enough for now. Closing your eyes, you will yourself to sleep.

---

A piercing ray of light stabs you in the eyes, and the bloody little sod wakes you right up with all the pleasantness and subtlety of an M84 Stun Grenade; you count your blessings and thank the good day for not including the deafening bang. That doesn't stop you from throwing up the finger at that chippy little bastard, the sun. The only good that blighter's ever done is give your old friend the moon something to reflect.

You finally crack your eyes open, glancing about for your usual glass of water, as your throat is parched as all hell. You feel compelled to curse, but your wandering eyes land on a brown bundle in the corner, and the words die on your tongue.

That's right. That's what happened last night.

Tiredly, you retrieve your hat from the cupboard and pull it on, tilting the brim to dim the sun a bit. You look back over into the corner to see Miss Lorelei, still sleeping peacefully. Good for her.

[ ] Go wake her up, and ask where she keeps the water.

[ ] Get a better look at her. How does she sleep so peacefully?

[ ] Rest a little and try to get your mood up. Always a smiling gent for the ladies, and Miss Lorelei ought to be no exception.
>> No. 8859
[X] Get a better look at her. How does she sleep so peacefully?
>> No. 8860
[x] Get a better look at her. How does she sleep so peacefully? But do it quick, you gotta...
[x] ...Try to get your mood up. Always a smiling gent for the ladies, and Miss Lorelei ought to be no exception.
>> No. 8861
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8862
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8863
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8864
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.

This seems to a be a better course of action.
>> No. 8865
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8871
>"I highly doubt that either one of us fancies a sporting round of being raped, and if I were to violate the terms of our agreement, I get the distinct feeling that Miss Keine would find me no matter where I might run."

I wouldn't mind too much.
>> No. 8872
[x] Get a better look at her. How does she sleep so peacefully? But do it quick, you gotta...
[x] ...Try to get your mood up. Always a smiling gent for the ladies, and Miss Lorelei ought to be no exception.

Mystia~
>> No. 8876
[x] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8880
I like this person. Makes me think of Oscar Wilde or something, but if he was a bitchin' athlete as well.
>> No. 8882
[†] Get a better look at her. How does she sleep so peacefully? But do it quick, you gotta...
[†] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.
>> No. 8888
File 122446751589.jpg - (42.58KB , 572x800 , mystia034.jpg ) [iqdb]
8888
[X] Familiarize yourself with the stand; find where she keeps the water yourself.

***

Your usual bout of morning irritation subsides as you haul yourself to your feet; you're too tired, and too thirsty to maintain that kind of aggression. You briefly consider making this easier on yourself by waking Miss Lorelei and asking where she keeps the water, but quickly put that idea out of mind. There's no call for hassling her just yet, and if she's content to sleep the day away, that's her right.

Casting about for a sign of something that might contain water, your heart sinks a little. Nothing so much as resembling a bottle or a glass to be had, just the still dirty plates of the pair that ate here last night, sitting unattended on the counter. It's to be expected, of course; life is never one to hand you anything that easily.

If there's no drink in plain sight, then the only place you can see that she'd keep it all is in the cupboards beneath the bar. One of those is already out: the cupboard she pulled the blanket from is still open, and there's nothing inside but her hat on one shelf, and a pile of rags on the shelf below. Guess you'll have to check the others.

There really aren't that many cupboards, so you opt to hunker down and check them all. The first one you stop in front of is rather confounding for a spell - just where are the grips for these little doors? Eventually - after passing them over several times, a testament to your lack of awareness - you manage to find the indent of the handle at the top of the cupboard doors, and move to pull it down.

Nothing.

You try it several more times, grumbling under your breath. The little bugger won't open, pleased to make a chipper little sound of knocking wood in mockery of your attempt to get at the cupboard's contents. Bloody...

Oh. There are latches on the handle. Naturally.

You flip the latches up, then try again. The door wobbles a bit, but still doesn't fall. What more does the damned thing want from you? It's not as though...

Oh. Second handle. Of course.

With a laugh you rap your knuckles against your own skull. Thick bastard, that one. You flip the latches on the second handle, and the whole door drops down of its own accord, stopping just as the handles reach the level of the floor. With nothing left to obstruct you, you set about your inspection.

The first cupboard contains a rather vast assortment of bottles, which serves to bolster your spirits quite nicely. Until the familiar aroma of booze assaults you. Good booze, too, not the cheap stuff; nice to know it wasn't damaged during last nights hectic activities. Capital, but you doubt Miss Lorelei would be appreciative of you raiding her alcohol cabinet.

The next cabinet holds a large assortment of such things as dried vegetables, fruits, and meats. An array of spices is racked to the rear of the top shelf. There's also appears to be a rather small, strangely electric looking icebox toward the bottom; it's no small curiosity where she obtained such a thing, or how it is powered. A nice selection of ingredients to bw found here, but again not what you happen to be on the prowl for.

Behind door number three hides what seems to be a large assortment of plates, bowls, and cups. To be expected of an enterprise such as this. On to the next store of wonders, then.

And what wonders they are. You seem to have uncovered the storage place for the filthier dishes, already used. The rather... pungent nature of the cabinet prompts you to pull it shut in short order. Not a pleasant find.

The row of compartments changes abruptly to a solid block of wood, which separates the last cupboard from the rest by a fair distance. A careful touch is required of you, as this last cabinet is the closest to your dear new employer, who is still quite engaged with negotiations in the land of nod. Being sure not to touch her - as is proper - you slide over and unlatch this last door. With nowhere else left to look, it stands to reason that the water would be in...

Hello, what's all this then?

This last, isolated compartment is apparently home to her wardrobe. A small set of folded brown dresses is on one shelf, although a single black dress is set at the bottom of the pile. A black variation of her hat sits beside the dresses. The bottom shelf is stacked with socks, and her rather lovely unmentionables, which all appear suitably frilly and lace-adorned. In one corner of the small compartment is what appears to be a set of chains. How unexpectedly bold, Miss Lorelei.

A sound of stirring from behind alerts you to the waking moments of Miss Lorelei.

[ ] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.

[ ] A good morning kiss would be in order, yes?

[ ] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
>> No. 8889
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
>> No. 8890
[x] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
Then:
[x] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8891
File 122447034837.png - (470.74KB , 800x600 , 1708148.png ) [iqdb]
8891
>>8888
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
[X] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.

Good lord, I don't have a Mystia folder on this computer.
>> No. 8892
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
[X] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8895
File 122447446751.jpg - (164.45KB , 803x723 , 1209651638134.jpg ) [iqdb]
8895
[x] A good morning kiss would be in order, yes?

NOTHING CAN GO WRONG

But seriously,
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
[X] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.

That kiss option can only end in mass disaster.
>> No. 8898
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
>> No. 8900
[†] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
Then:
[†] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8903
[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
[X] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8904
>> In one corner of the small compartment is what appears to be a set of chains. How unexpectedly bold, Miss Lorelei.

fap fap fap
>> No. 8909
I must say, the idea of this CYOA had me interested when you announced it, but I am pleasantly surprised. Keep up the good work.

Also, our protagonist is already growing on me already.
>> No. 8912
{X} ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
{X} Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8914
>>8888
[ ] A good morning kiss would be in order, yes?

Set the tone, put the idea in her head and just let it grow eh?

Still, nice that we've got Gothic Mystia but can we meet princess Wriggle?
>> No. 8917
[ˆーˆ] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
This ASAP. Then,
[ˆーˆ] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.

If Mystia catches us snooping in her wardrobe, it will never end up good. She'll probably kill us while screaming "Pervert".
>> No. 8919
[z] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy. Quietly.
Then:
[e] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.
>> No. 8925
Well, it's nice to see that this is being received well. I'd intended to write more updates for this over the weekend. I'll adjust my usual vote count threshold appropriately, then, and try to work at a faster pace next week. Back to HLA for now, but this will return on Saturday.

Self-sage for this not being a real update.
>> No. 9069
>>8925

So does "The Weekend" start on Friday night or Saturday?
>> No. 9072
>>9069

derp

>Back to HLA for now, but this will return on Saturday.
>> No. 9086
File 122497219754.jpg - (81.21KB , 700x800 , mystia118.jpg ) [iqdb]
9086
An interesting combination of choices.

***

[X] ... you may wish to shut those cupboards, dear boy.
[X] Turn to greet your new employer to the day. A lovely lady deserves a lovely morning.

***

It occurs to you that perhaps the good lady would prefer that you did not rifle through her undergarments.

You bring the door to the cupboard up abruptly, the latches falling to secure the panel in place almost automatically with a satisfying click. Cartwheeling to the side, you spin past the other cupboards, whipping them shut in a smooth, continuous motion, the latches kindly securing themselves each time. The architect of this little stand was quite the talented individual; hats off to their accomplishment.

Leaving the last of the cupboards open, just as it was the night previous, you snap up Miss Lorelei's hat as you pass. Landing just outside the shattered stall, you come down in a crouch and pop forward in a sort of springing jump, thrusting yourself back into the stand. A maneuver this smooth deserves some congratulations, even if only your own; perhaps you might sneak some of the alcohol later, or persuade Miss Lorelei to allow you some.

How unfortunate that you've forgotten: pride goeth before a fall.

A rather sneaky little bit of floorboarding seems to have jutted out just a might further than you had thought, and it gives one of your knees a rather unwelcome kiss. With your flow having been rudely disrupted, you find yourself giving the floor an unwilling kiss of your own. Your momentum, sadly, doesn't see the need to allow you to collect yourself, and drags you along the not entirely smooth surface of the wood. When you finish your brief slide there are several new aches in your bones, none of which are particularly enjoyable.

You're also at your employer's feet, and the lovely lady is staring at you in confusion. Your offer her the hat that she wore yesterday, which she takes with some degree of trepidation.

"Just," she pauses for a moment, setting the hat on her head, "what are you doing?"

"Just getting you your hat, Miss Lorelei."

She nods carefully, then narrows her eyes.

"And who are you?"

Has she... really forgotten? How very depressing, to think you are so unremarkable.

"Your most recent property acquisition, milady."

She keeps staring briefly, then the familiar look of recognition sets in. She growls and throws the blanket off of herself, wads the fabric into a ball, then shoves it into your hands roughly, sending you back a short ways. A rather admirable show of restraint on her part, at least to your mind, given her impressive display last night.

"How could I forget? Put that away, you."

Ah, she wounds your heart so. She leaps to her feet and stomps past you, not even sparing a glance. Perhaps you've found a kindred spirit, who loathes the day as much as you? If so, then working for her may yet prove to be quite the pleasant distraction. Feeling a little more chipper, you scoot over and jam the wadded up sheets into their cupboard; you make a note to fold them properly some time later.

Job well done, you pull yourself on over to the edge of the stall, allowing your legs to dangle off the side and giving your now throbbing left knee a spot of rest. Miss Lorelei is a few paces away from the stall's remains, her back toward you as she faces the sun. A musical little jingle escapes her lips as she stretches. Well, it sounds as though she's rather fond of the mornings, actually; sad, especially as that would suggest that you are the one she finds distasteful.

Although...

In the daylight, it is much easier to see just how lovely this lovely lady is. Her fair skin has a healthy shine to it, as does her short pink hair. She is very slim, actually, and while her figure isn't astounding, it is certainly present enough to prove attractive; her dress fits her shape well enough to at least prove she has a satisfactory bust, and if her dress were a bit less wide at the bottom, you suspect that you would find her legs and hips to be shapely enough. She is obviously quite fit, given how much strength she has displayed. Even those stubby little wings of hers are rather pretty in the right light.

You wonder idly what her stance on workplace romances might be...

"Alright!"

She spins about to face you, her yellow eyes flashing and her lips curling into a thin sneer. While you do despise the day, this level of energy seems to suit her rather well. She swaggers over to you and plants a foot down firmly on the edge of the stall, missing a rather important segment of your anatomy by significantly less than you find comfortable.

"Listen up, dog!"

Meeting her gaze, you find yourself tilting your head in query.

"Dog?"

"That's right," her sneer grows into full grin, sharp teeth gleaming, "you belong to me now, and after that little stunt you pulled, you're going to be working to pay me off. As long as you owe me for my stand, you're nothing more than a dog, and I'm going to be working you like one."

She leans down, until her face is but a hair's breadth from your own. Those yellow eyes of hers are all you can see, and when she speaks her hot breath caresses your lips softly.

"Understand?"

You feel surprisingly self-conscious in the face of her intense stare.

[ ] "Quite so."

[ ] Quite no.

[ ] "Quite so, but... please be gentle with me."
>> No. 9087
[X] "Quite so."
>> No. 9088
[X] "Quite so."
>> No. 9089
[X] "Quite so."
>> No. 9090
[†] "Quite so."

Ko..ko..kono.. BAKA INU!
>> No. 9092
[x] "Quite so."

Mystia, can love bloom in the workplace?
>> No. 9093
[X] "Quite so."

I wonder if we're a hunting dog...
>> No. 9094
[X] "Quite so."

***

"Quite so." You reach up to tip your cap, realizing only a tad too late that, with Miss Lorelei's face so close, your cap's bill has been bent just enough to make this gesture impossible. You would have looked quite silly had she been far enough back to observe that foible. "I am yours to direct, Miss Lorelei."

"Good. Now wait here."

Looking rather satisfied with herself, she pulls back. With a victorious hum, she hops past you again, and strolls back into the stall. The sound of a cupboard being opened comes from behind you, followed by a spot of rustling. Leaving her to her work for the moment, you remove your cap and set about fixing the brim. It would be a shame to let such a fine hat get too bent out of shape.

As you are about to set your cap back on your head, Miss Lorelei beats you to the punch by dropping something of moderate weight onto your crown first. Stings a bit to have something hit you like that, but it happens to be nothing too terrible, so you simply hold the object in place while tilting your head back to look up at her.

"Miss Lorelei?"

She thrusts a small note into your face, which you gently take into hand.

"Go to the human village down the road, and pick up everything on that list. The sack on your head's got enough money in it to cover the costs. If you use even a fraction of it on anything not on that list, I'll know."

"As you please, Miss Lorelei."

You set your cap back on your head, the small bag on your head fitting in the hat without so much as the slightest trouble. You can always trust the old Gatsby to keep things under hat. You check the list for a moment - mostly seems to be building supplies, along with some pots curiously. Well, if that's what the young lady needs, then that's what you aim to find.

You get to your feet, Miss Lorelei already turning away to deal with something else. A rather nasty sting in your knee reminds you of the scrape you gave yourself just a few moments ago.

[ ] Time to get to work. Let's make Miss Lorelei proud, shall we?

[ ] Ask Miss Lorelei if she has bandages. Your scrape may not have been bad, but it is best to take care of such things.

[ ] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.
>> No. 9095
[X] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.
>> No. 9096
[X] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.
>> No. 9097
[†] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.

[†] Time to get to work. Let's make Miss Lorelei proud, shall we?
>> No. 9098
>>9097

I'm pretty sure it's implied that we'll leave after we ask for a drink.

[X] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.
>> No. 9099
[ ] Time to get to work. Let's make Miss Lorelei proud, shall we? You're still parched, but it is best to take care of such things.
>> No. 9103
File 122499269521.gif - (65.45KB , 288x1926 , 1874347.gif ) [iqdb]
9103
>>9094
Our protagonist seems to be a right-proper chap. Fairly sure if this had a cross-over with Harker's story (or vice versa), the site would implode with shear amount of dapperness.

Protip:Don't do a safe-search free google image search for dapper. Unless you like gay porn. If so, then 'dapper' the night away.
>> No. 9104
[X] Time to get to work. Let's make Miss Lorelei proud, shall we?
>> No. 9105
[X] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.
>> No. 9106
[X] Time to get to work. Let's make Miss Lorelei proud, shall we?

After all, a gentlemen is more concerned with repaying his debts to a lady
>> No. 9107
>>9106
>After all, a gentlemen is more concerned with repaying his debts to a lady

A gentleman can't repay anything if he's dead from dehydration. You're confusing being selfless with being self-destructive.
>> No. 9109
[X] Ask Miss Lorelei where she keeps the water before you go. You're still parched.

***

As much as you would love to go straight to work, you still feel a tad parched. Now would seem like a good time to inquire about a cup of water; after all, you would hate to find dehydration interfering with your work. It just would not do.

"Miss Lorelei?"

You look back to see her glaring at you.

"What? Is that task too complicated for you, mutt?"

You shake your head.

"It is not the least bit of trouble. Rather, I would like to ask where you keep the water, if you would be so inclined as to tell me. I find myself a bit parched, you see."

She freezes in place, her lips pulling back into a thin snarl. Touched a nerve, did you?

"The water was kept in certain cupboard until you showed up."

Your gaze is directed to the stall's edge by a shaky finger, indicating the rather badly damaged side of the cart that you have been using to get behind the bar. Now that you look close, there does seem to be quite a lot of shredded wood laying about the ground, interspersed with a pretty assortment of pottery fragments. It is a crying shame about those pottery pieces, really; an awful lot of work must have gone into those pots, and--

"NOW GET TO WORK!"

You stumble back. Quite the forceful voice you've got, Miss Lorelei. A tip of the cap to placate her and you're ready to get to work...

Oh, right. Wait a moment.

"Which way along the road was it, Miss Lorelei?"

She gives you a bit of a glower, but she does point down the road to her left. Rather than give her any further ire to stress herself with, you bow quickly and set off. Best to get your work done quickly.

---

Much to the betterment of your temperament, the sun is quite low in the sky by the time Miss Lorelei's cart comes back into view. Cheeky bastard was laughing at you all the way down to the village, and most of the way back. Made the lack of water a spot more irritating as well, what with all the sweat you leaked. Couldn't be helped, though; carrying a large load of wood, and four pots in two bags is enough to make any man feel a bit strained, let alone one whose knee is aching as badly as yours.

Still, the village was a lovely little place. Very multicultural, with all manner of architecture lining the streets, and folks of all persuasions doing business. It was rather quaint, if you do say so yourself. And the nice old lady running the pottery shop was kind enough to spare you a cup of tea for your troubles, warding off dehydration just a bit; you'll have to bring her something the next time you happen to be in town. Really, just lovely people there.

A pleasing aroma wafts to you on the breeze as you draw close to the stand, and your stomach rumbles in response. My, it has been some time since you last ate has it not? Why, you neglected breakfast this morning, in fact.

As you happen upon the stand, you set the two bags containing pots by the side of the cart with some care. The load of assorted wood lengths strapped to your back is a bit sturdier, and you make sure to set it down on its side, so as to avoid damaging the pottery with falling wood. You were right, too, that pottery is lovely; rather a shame that Miss Lorelei's previous batch was ruined in last night's affair.

With all that set aside, you turn your attention to your employer, who appears to be working what remains of her grill. That smell really is quite appetizing...

"Making brunch, Miss Lorelei?"

She turns to face you when she hears your voice, looking rather bored.

"For me, maybe."

She abandons the grill for a moment to come over and thrust a rolled up parchment into your hands. You unfurl the paper to see what appears to be the architectural details of her little enterprise. Seems to have been designed by Miss Lorelei herself; quite impressive that she's a woman of so many talents.

"You can eat once you finish the repairs."

She turns her nose up at you as walks away, though you find that it does not particularly bother you. She has a very cute little nose, after all. Still...

You look over the details of the stall again. Repairs like these are certain to take some time, easily more than an hour, or maybe even two. Your stomach is beginning to growl with enough intensity to tell you that it is going to be pained before too long. You are still rather parched as well, and your knee has started to ache something fierce. Health may just be a bit of a concern right now.

[ ] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

[ ] As much as you would love to get straight to work, ask if you might have a rest and a spot to eat beforehand. Would not want repairs to be hampered by stomach pains.
>> No. 9110
[ ] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.
>> No. 9112
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

As soon as we pass out from being overworked, the dere will kick in.

Or we get eaten.
>> No. 9115
[x] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

She's going to continue to be a hard-ass until it's clear you can't work any harder. Eventually you'll get a chance to show her that by passing out as a result of her negligence, but until then you want to suck it up.

Increase suffering load now to maximize sympathy gains later.
>> No. 9118
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.
>> No. 9119
[†] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

As soon as we pass out from being overworked, the dere will kick in.

Seconded.
>> No. 9121
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.
>> No. 9122
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

MAX DERE GAINS PER LEVEL
>> No. 9123
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

Although being eating will come faster than the deredere, I still think this is for the best.
>> No. 9127
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.
>> No. 9128
[pointless vote] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.
>> No. 9129
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work Patchwork. I want updates before Monday ;_;
>> No. 9130
Just to be clear, I am writing right now. It's just taking a bit of time due to three character introductions. Expect it before too long.
>> No. 9131
File 12250866444.png - (215.88KB , 600x500 , Misc130.png ) [iqdb]
9131
[X] Well, she is the boss, after all. Get to work; the sooner you start, the sooner this job will be finished.

***

Then again, Miss Lorelei is the boss. If she feels that you can work through all this without a meal, then it would be remiss for you not to prove her right. It would be rather disgraceful if you could not live up to a lady's expectations.

Besides, a late breakfast will be something to look forward to when you are finished.

At any rate, the faster you get done, the sooner you can fill your stomach. Let us get cracking, shall we?

---

It is roughly an hour into your work that you come to the deep and emotional understanding that your initial estimates on the time this task would take were grossly inaccurate. A single tear is shed for your now stinging stomach, which has elected to voice its complaints quite loudly. Ah, but you will have to bear it quietly and continue your work; always keep a smiling face for the ladies.

While that maxim is being strained rather a bit farther than you are familiar with, it is more important than ever now that a small group of young girls has shown up. A blond girl with a red ribbon; a girl with unusually blue hair and wings; a girl with equally strange green hair and boyish attire. They all appear to be rather cute little ladies, but with your work at hand you can only afford to offer them the most basic of greetings; a man must be diligent in his duties, after all. It seems just as well, as they show no interest in introducing themselves.

As you hammer another board into place, snatches of their conversation reach your ears. General inquiries as to who you are, some explanation from Miss Lorelei. The specifics of it all pass over your head as a particularly stubborn nail draws your attention, the little bastard refusing to do his job and hold the newest board in place. You catch one batch of talk that brings a bit of color to your cheeks, something about one of the girls wanting to eat you. What a precocious little child...

---
>> No. 9132
In the end, after three straight hours of work, you find yourself leaning against the stall for support, the last board in place. The stomach pain is horrid now, almost as if your gut were burning, and your throat is terribly dry. Not to mention your knee is beginning to feel a fair bit too hot for comfort.

But, at the least, you are done with your work.

"Done with repairs, Miss Lorelei."

You stroll around the stall as best you can and take a seat at the bar, barely able to keep yourself from an undignified collapse. Your slouch is bad enough, but you will not be so crude as to collapse in front of these ladies.

"So, you're Mystia's dog, right?"

You perk up a bit, turning your attention to the girl seated beside you. She happens to be the lass with the short, messy green hair, and now that you look close a pair of insect feelers poke through her green locks. Sparkling green eyes peer out at you with a gleam of curiosity. She has a very slight figure, and her clothes cover up most of her feminine features; the white dress shirt only has the slightest of a bust to cling to, the shorts she wears hide her hips entirely, and the cape at her shoulders would hide all her feminine features if you were to see her from the rear. You might have mistaken her for a young boy if not for her soft features and the girlish appearance of her fair skinned legs. Her voice at least is certainly sweet enough to befit a girl, soft and high. She's actually rather charming, in the way that most tomboys are.

"Yes, I--" You cough and rub your throat, your voice irritatingly hoarse. "I am currently Miss Lorelei's employee."

The girl rests her head in her hand, and her elbow on the counter. She hums curiously.

"You don't even mind being called a dog? You're weird, Mister." She laughs and holds out a hand, which you accept and bend down to kiss. Her face lights up red, and she withdraws her hand; evidently she did not expect that. She coughs discretely and looks away. "Anyway, I'm Wriggle Nightbug. If you're going to be working for Mystia, you're going to see me around a lot, so I figured I should introduce myself."

You introduce yourself and remove your cap, giving the girl a slight bow.

"Always a pleasure to meet a lovely lady, Miss Nightbug."

She wrinkles her nose, still a bit red.

"Yeah, well... just call me Wriggle, okay? That formal stuff bothers me."

"As you please, Wriggle."

It is at this time that her two companions choose to pop up on either side of you. On your left, imposing herself between you and Wriggle, is the blond girl with the red ribbon tied in her hair on one side. She has unusually pale skin, almost as though she were a doll carved from alabaster. Yes, a doll is how you might think of her; she's as short as child of no more than twelve or so, with a fragile looking body to match. Her garb is a simple black dress with long white sleeves and a white collar bearing a red tie of sorts. Her ruby red eyes glitter with the same innocence that those winged girls who attacked last night possessed, though the sharp little fang poking out of her mouth sets you a bit on edge.

On your right is the girl with the short cyan hair, a ribbon of dark blue tied in her hair. Even her eyes and dress are shades of blue. She looks even younger than her companion, possibly due to her even shorter stature; you wouldn't place her as any older than nine. She gives you a rather fierce glare, and you now notice the six wings at her back, each looking as though it were composed of ice. You grow a bit uneasy, remembering again those winged girls from last night.

The two young girls each stare at you without speaking a word.

"Can I help you, ladies?"

The blue haired girl immediately hovers up to shove her face into yours. She shouts with such a volume that it startles you.

"You better not have hurt any faeries!"

"Pardon, dear?"

"I'm not a 'Dear!' I'm Cirno!"

You pat her on the head, ruffling her hair a bit as you push her away gently.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Cirno."

"Not 'Miss Cirno!' Just Cirno!"

The lass flails her arms about in a huff, trying to to get back in your face. You laugh a little. The poor girl does not seem to be the brightest little thing.

"Alright, Cirno. Would you care to repeat what you said about the faeries?"

"Shut up! I didn't forget about the faeries, I remembered them!" She squabbles with you for a trite longer before calming down. "Anyway, if you hurt any, I'll hurt you!"

"Why would I hurt a fairy?"

"I don't know, but Mystia said faeries were chasing you!"

Ah, those winged girls were rather pixie looking, were they not? However...

"I would not dream of hurting a fairy," you ruffle her hair again, absently, "the little dears are positively precious. Some of the prettiest little things I have set eyes on. Lovely, in fact."

Cirno blushes brighter than Wriggle, turning her back to you and fluttering her wings quickly. Still, when she speaks she seems placated. "Yeah, well... just don't hurt any of them... or anything..."

You chuckle and ruffle the little dear's hair again, and she squirms under your touch. She almost seems as precious as the faeries that came after you yesterday.

A tug on your arm draws your attention back to the blond girl at your side, who smiles up at you innocently. You feel a bit a stirring in your heart. My, but this world is just full of cute girls, is it not? Your protective instincts are going to go haywire at this rate.

"Mister," the girl hugs your arm, "can Rumia eat you?"

Your face colors. She is the precocious little one, is she?

"What might you mean, little Miss?"

"I want to eat you, please."

She pulls back and holds your arm up, pulling your sleeve down in the process. With little more warning, she bites down softly on your forearm, chewing your skin softly. It tickles rather a bit, and you stifle a laugh; that the laugh then degenerates into a cough put you a bit off, though. After a few seconds she releases your arm from her mouth and makes a face.

"Ick. Mister tastes bad!"

She looks rather disappointed, and you feel a bit sad for her, despite her apparently sincere desire to consume you.

"I apologize for my taste, dear. If you would like, I can try to make you some food some time."

She gives you a sparkling stare and a dazzling little smile.

"Really, Mister?"

You nod an affirmative, and the girl leaps up to hug you, her grip on you surprisingly strong. Are all the ladies in this land so gifted with strength? Well, it still is a rather nice gesture from the girl, so you return her embrace carefully, even allowing her to go so far as climbing up and sitting in your lap. She's a warm little thing...

A cough and a clatter brings your attention to Miss Lorelei, who stands behind the bar and glares at you.

"If you're done flirting with my friends, here's your food."

Ah, finally, you... oh dear. You look at the small bowl she has set so kindly on the counter; it is a fair shot too small, in your estimation. It cannot be any larger than a saucer, really. It hardly contains anything at all, really; the food is not even prepared, just a mess of ingredients haphazardly thrown together.

"Uh, Mystia..." Wriggle speaks up, giving you a concerned glance. "Are you sure that's enough? I mean, he was working when we got here, and... he doesn't look too good."

Miss Lorelei turns her nose up again.

"He's just a stupid dog. That's good enough for him."

You hardly want to complain about receiving any food at all, but you highly doubt this will fill you at all.

[ ] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.

[ ] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9133
[ ] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9134
[ ] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9135
Oh god why so adorable, Rumia?

[ ] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9136
File 122509189186.jpg - (311.48KB , 600x848 , thelastruffle.jpg ) [iqdb]
9136
>you wouldn't place her as any older than nine.

I see what you did there.

[!/] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9137
[ ] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.

Christ, My kidney's have just exploded.
>> No. 9138
[x] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.

This day is going to end badly for us, I can tell.
>> No. 9139
[X] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.

Have a feeling...
>> No. 9140
[†] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9141
[o] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9142
[X] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.

Pissing into the tide, but I'm having Tsukihime flashbacks here.
>> No. 9143
[x] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.

We kinda need food to, you know, function. Are you guys planning to steal from inventory later or what?
>> No. 9144
[x] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.

Oh god, hungry...
>> No. 9146
[X] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9147
>We kinda need food to, you know, function. Are you guys planning to steal from inventory later or what?

We're just removing the Tsun and waiting for the Dere

I call it Dere-baiting
>> No. 9148
>>9147

Using our polite moe to break through the bird girl's haert? I can dig it~
>> No. 9149
[x] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.

Killing with kindness.
>> No. 9152
[x] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9165
[t] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
[t]Ignoring the food for a moment, "Miss Lorelei, would you happen to have a first aid kit lying around? It seems that I had injured myself earlier and my be needing medical attention."
>> No. 9167
Suddenly, I'm imagining us running around, carrying Rumia on our shoulders while she has her arms out to the sides like her normal stance, making airplane noises.
>> No. 9168
>>9167
Awwwww.
>> No. 9169
>>9167
Someone NEEDS to draw this now.
>> No. 9183
[x] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.
>> No. 9187
Nooo it'd end of the weekend alredy :( I want Moar tsun tsun Mystia! Patchwork!

Wriggle, Cirno, Rumia HNNNNNG!
>> No. 9188
>>9167
D'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw.
>> No. 9232
File 122533676091.jpg - (121.57KB , 600x512 , 1225324117932.jpg ) [iqdb]
9232
>> No. 9236
[x] Raise a bit of a complaint. Even Miss Lorelei's friends seem to agree that this is not enough.
>> No. 9357
File 12255820108.jpg - (159.38KB , 640x585 , mystia011.jpg ) [iqdb]
9357
>>9232

I do believe I need one of these...

***

[X] Smile and bear it. You would not want any of her friends to see her as having poor judgment.

***

It would be most inappropriate for you to speak out against Miss Lorelei's judgment at this juncture. While you may have your complaints regarding this latest decision, you are less than willing to compromise her stature in the eyes of her friends for such a selfish reason. This is a matter best kept between her and yourself.

"This will certainly be enough for now. My thanks for the food, Miss Lorelei."

Removing your cap and setting on the counter, you offer Miss Lorelei as much of a bow as you can with Rumia occupying your lap. For her part, Miss Lorelei does not seem particularly interested in receiving your appreciation, and she merely looks away from you with a bit of a huff. Wriggle, on the other hand, offers you a gaze of equal parts concern and skepticism.

"Are you sure? I mean, no offense, but you look a little out of it."

"I assure you, Wriggle, I am well enough that this is all I require."

"Well, if you say so." She still sounds as though she is unconvinced, but she respectfully drops that line of conversation to instead speak with Miss Lorelei.

As you reach for the chopsticks, you note to your own private irritation that your hand seems to be unusually unsteady. It shakes about weakly, and continues to do so regardless of your attempts to stop it. How disgraceful. It takes a bit more work than you feel comfortable with, but you manage to secure your eating utensils and get to eating.

You munch on your sadly meager, but nonetheless important meal, and the brief excitement of your introduction fades. Cirno slips back over to her own seat on the other side of Wriggle, and joins in the conversation with Wriggle and Miss Lorelei; granted, the cyan haired girl is quite boisterous, and you suspect she does not quite understand the topic of discussion, whatever it may be.

Little Miss Rumia seems content to merely sit in your lap and kick her legs in the air idly. Every now and again she politely asks for a nibble of your meal, and you oblige her each time; with how minuscule this repast is, it is not as though missing a scrap or two will mean very much. You will still be hungry either way, after all.

All too soon you find yourself staring at an empty plate. If you are to be frank, you may actually feel worse after this late, late brunch; now that you have given your stomach some attention, it seems to have decided to complain with much more ferocity, leaving you with an even more intense sensation of burning in your gut. Further, you have had nothing to drink, and now your throat is exceptionally dry.

You wait for Miss Lorelei's verbal engagement to reach a pause, and cut in as politely as you can manage.

"Miss Lorelei," your choking voice draws an uninterested look from here, "I believe I have finished my meal. Might you have any drink to spare me? My throat is a bit--"

"Go fill the pots you brought back with water from the stream over that way." She gestures off into the forest vaguely. "You can drink from the river."

Wriggle spares you another look of concern. "Hey, are you sure that's okay, Mystia? I really don't think he looks like he can--"

"It's fine. He's a dog, after all; he's worthless if he can't do his work. You're fine, aren't you, dog?" For perhaps the first time, Miss Lorelei turns and asks for your direct input.

The look upon your benefactor's face seems to be daring you to disagree with her. Wriggle appears to be a smidgen uncomfortable with the current circumstances, and Cirno just looks to be confused by the situation. Rumia pays no mind to any of it, just rocking back in forth atop your legs, humming to herself. You ruffle her hair absently.

[ ] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.

[ ] Perhaps, just this once, you might ask for some clemency, and admit that you feel a bit under the weather.
>> No. 9358
[X] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.
>> No. 9359
[x] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.
>> No. 9360
[x] Perhaps, just this once, you might ask for some clemency, and admit that you feel a bit under the weather.

I'm sensing a DNM BAD END coming.
>> No. 9361
[ ] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.

Bah. It's not like we'll die or anything.
>> No. 9362
>>9360
It's only been one day. A human body can take a lot of abuse.
>> No. 9364
[X] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.
>> No. 9365
{X} Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.
>> No. 9366
[X] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.
I'm atleast expecting us to collapse into the river...
>> No. 9374
[!/] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.

All the dog name calling is reminding me of terrible tsun-deres.
>> No. 9375
>>9362

To be fair, two days without water would cause that kind of dehydration.
Fortunately for us, It's only been one day.
>> No. 9376
[X] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.

We'll get the dere, somehow.
>> No. 9377
File 12255963901.jpg - (24.92KB , 133x192 , whereisthedere.jpg ) [iqdb]
9377
>>9376
>> No. 9383
File 122560484096.jpg - (77.91KB , 588x555 , LittleRumia.jpg ) [iqdb]
9383
[X] Naturally, you are always ready to do the work assigned to you.

***

Resignation. It is your duty to do as Miss Lorelei asks of you, and so you shall simply have to comply with her wishes. That aside, it is always nice to live up to a woman's expectations of you. Replacing your cap on your head, you give Miss Lorelei a tip of the hat.

"Right as rain, Miss Lorelei."

She narrows her eyes at you. "Then get to it."

"As you please." You pat little Rumia's shoulders, and she looks up at you with a smile. "Could I ask you to stand, Miss Rumia? I myself need to get to my feet."

The little girl on your lap nods and hops off, spreading her arms out at her side as if to balance herself as she does. It reminds you vaguely of a child pretending to be an airplane. Rather cute, if you do say so yourself.

Climbing off the bar stool yourself, a sudden dizzy spell accosts you. An assortment of colored neon splotches flare along your vision like sun spots for a moment, then fade away. That seems a bit... worrisome. Well, maybe you just stood up too quickly.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

You look over your shoulder and flash Wriggle the brightest smile that you can muster given your current state.

"Positive. You need not worry yourself over me, Wriggle, though I do thank you for your concern."

She nods uneasily, and turns her attention back to Miss Lorelei. With the lady's worries at least partially assuaged, you head around to the back of the stall and collect one of the pots. As much as you would love to take all four at once, each pot does seem to be rather large, and when one takes into account that each will have to be filled with water on the return trip, well... it would not be prudent to overburden yourself. Just complete your task, slow and steady.

You turn to head in the direction Miss Lorelei had indicated the stream to be in, only to find little Rumia standing behind you. She smiles innocently up at you, hands behind her back as she rocks back and forward on her feet.

"Can I help you Miss Rumia?"

"Rumia's going to go with you, okay?"

Oh? It comes as a bit of a surprise that she wants to tag along, but there seems to be little reason to leave her behind.

"I don't see why not. May I inquire as to why you wish to accompany me?"

She shrugs. "Because I want to."

Well, a child seldom needs a reason for anything. Adjusting your position, you lean down to ruffle her hair again, and she giggles rather endearingly at the contact. With the empty pot in one arm, the other is free, and you offer it to her.

"Shall we, Miss Rumia?"

She smiles, and latches onto your arm with a hug. Together, the two of you set off into the forest.

As you trek through the woods, little Rumia proves to be a rather invaluable companion to have at your side. While Miss Lorelei may have given you some general idea of where to direct yourself, Rumia is evidently quite familiar with the forest, and so kind as to direct your course so as to help you reach your destination as quickly as possible even at your ambling pace. A bit more strangely, given her size, her presence is rather reassuring out here. No matter where you head through the woods, you can feel the discomfort of having a set of eyes on you, and you can spot vague shape lurking in the brush; however, Rumia seems to act as some form of deterrent to the various creatures of the night, and none are willing to approach.

Before too long you hear the telltale burble of flowing water, and soon emerge into the brief, unforested stretch of grass that denotes the edge of the river. The sight of the stream inspires a certain sense of nostalgia; the water is clear as crystal, giving you an almost unimpeded view of the aquatic life within. Fish of all sorts swim by freely in the lazy current, a parade of colors that seems almost otherworldly. It's a stream of a type that you haven't seen since childhood: a pure, pristine brook, completely untouched by human hands. You can certainly understand why Miss Lorelei gets her water here.

Rumia releases your arm, and you wander over to the water. All this water is making your parched throat ache rather fiercely, and you set the pot aside in order to first take a drink. A certain reluctance shows its face when you bring you cupper hands to the stream; it feels almost immoral to sully such a thing with your hands, but... you dip your hands and collect a fair amount of water. Bringing the liquid to your lips, you take a tentative sip - clean and fresh tasting, just as one might expect. Several more handfuls of water eventually quench your thirst.

When you've had your fill of water, you pick up the pot; it fills with a simple dip, and, much as you had expected, it grows rather heavy. Rather fortunate that you only took the one, then. You climb to your feet and make sure to heft the pot in such a way that you can be sure it will not spill. With the first part of your job finished, you turn back to Rumia, allowing the child to grasp onto your jacket as the two of you set off back to the stall.
>> No. 9384
File 122560490375.jpg - (52.12KB , 900x900 , TheDarkness.jpg ) [iqdb]
9384
---

Your second trip is rather the uneventful happening, however, by the third trip you start to feel a bit under the weather, and your knee starts to burn again. Now, on your final trip, the pain is growing worse than ever. Your stomach is on fire, so is your knee, and so much perspiration leaks down your body that your throat has grown parched again. You almost certainly look a wreck by now. Rather a shame that any woman has to see you in such a sorry state, even little Rumia.

Speaking of whom, in an attempt to take your mind off the pain you make small talk with Rumia, who has been happy to hum to herself for most of the work process. It is mostly senseless, trivial speak, but it does do a bit to keep you distracted. In particular, Rumia's remark that humans as foul tasting as yourself tend to be nice guys makes you feel a bit better.

When you finally reach the stream on this last outing, you stumble over and place the pot aside as usual, but then simply remove your cap, shut your eyes, and dip your head into the stream. The coolness of the water is a welcome relief, and you drink in as much as you can without surfacing for breath, soothing your now sore throat. The action is repeated several times, just to keep you together. A shameful display, but a necessary one at this point.

With your sad little ritual complete, you pull your head from the stream and open your eyes, only to find that this does nothing. The world remains pitch black. You lift your hand to your face, and find that it remains clear and distinct, quite visible. Indeed, a quick glance down reveals that you are quite easy to see, despite the rest of the world having gone dark.

You feel terrible, but blindness is not a symptom you would have expected, especially not blindness that fails to prevent you from seeing yourself. This is all rather... "Peculiar." Yes, that would be the right word for it.

A curious hum comes to your attention, and you look up to see little Rumia at your side, just as clear as yourself. Something about her, however, seems off. Her eyes look devoid of their usual innocent sparkle, instead appearing... vacant? No, that's not it, they look... distant. As though they were looking at something far beyond you; or, perhaps, as though it was something other than Rumia peering out through them. She leans down to you, and you notice the ribbon in her hair seems to be surrounded by a haze of some kind.

"Mystia should take better care of her employees."

Rumia speaks, and much to your surprise, her voice is... well, it is certainly her voice, but it is much more mature than it ought to be. Deeper, with a smooth, satin, almost sensual feel to it. Rather a peculiar sound for a young girl, that.

"Miss Rumia?"

She reaches out, her fingers cupping your chin and tilting your head up in a manner that makes you feel just a tad hot, and in a way much different than your current sickness tampers with your temperature.

"Minions aren't of much use if they break down. That's especially a trouble with you humans... such fragile, weak little things. Bit of a shame, really, otherwise I would never have to jump through all these hoops." She traces her fingers along your face in a manner that is most decidedly inappropriate for a little girl. "She really shouldn't be mistreating you so. I'll have to try and speak with her some time, if I can actually gather the energy for it. At any rate..."

Her hand is withdrawn, and she stands up. Her gaze is rather sharp, and while you would like to present yourself with your proper composure, you are forced to endure the rather degrading situation of having a woman see you in this terrible state of body.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, boy. You're a sharp one, maybe even dangerous; I know your type. I've been rather intimate with some in the past. You seem to be more considerate than most, though... I expect you to treat Mystia well, understand? I will not be pleased if you hurt her, whether or not you intend it."

The darkness swirls about her in a most impressive fashion, and she vanishes from sight entirely. A brief pause, and then...

The darkness recedes violently, all sucked into little Rumia's dress. The forest is visible again, and bright enough compared to the previous pitch black that your eyes hurt a bit. But more importantly, Rumia is still there, and... she looks like the little Rumia that you know. A cute little thing with wide, innocent eyes, whom you would quite frankly like to give a hug right about now.

"Are you okay, mister? You kind of froze for a little while, like what Cirno does to things, except without the ice."

She tilts her head curiously. Adorable mannerism for her, really.

"I am alright, Miss Rumia. I apologize, but I must have zoned out for a moment."

Or so you would like to think. Really, hallucinations? You may have overestimated yourself after all; perhaps your health is under larger strain than you had believed. Maybe Miss Lorelei will allow you the luxury of laying down for a bit on your return.

First things first, though.

You turn and fill the pot, then stand and heft it into your arms. "Shall we return, Miss Rumia?"

She nods, and the two of you set off.
>> No. 9385
File 122560503070.jpg - (90.45KB , 600x600 , mystia121.jpg ) [iqdb]
9385
---

At last, you return to the stand for the final time, coming round to the front of it with your burden held proudly in your arms, and little Rumia at your side. Miss Lorelei gives you an irritated little glare as she leans across the counter and snatches the pot out of your arms; come to think of it, she's rather cute when she's irritated. Her voice reaches your ears, but...

Wait. What's this?

You can quite certainly hear her voice, but it doesn't make any sense to you. The words are indistinct, meaningless blurbs. The pain in your leg suddenly flares, as though the flame within had discovered the secrets of the sun. Everything in your sight washes together into a blur of colors, then cuts to a blackness that you are fairly certain is not merely a hallucination this time. The feeling leaves you, save for your numerous pains, and you suddenly have a great deal of trouble discerning just which way is up and which way is down, a matter not helped by your blindness. There's a sharp burst of pain in what you assume is your head, which you perceive as something like a flower blooming into the interior of your skull.

Oh dear.

---

The process of opening your eyes is a rather laborious one, all things considered. There are all these muscles that must be pulled and prodded, and your brain has to work out what they need to do before anything can proceed. Really, the whole process is rife with bottlenecking. Nonetheless, at some point your brain puts it all together, and...

You open your eyes.

The stars are rather a pretty sight tonight. So much clearer than you can recall them ever being, but then, you have not been to anywhere with such clean skies recently. It is rather to forget how lovely all that can look when you are used to clouds.

"You're awake! Are you alright? Does it hurt anywhere?"

Miss Lorelei's face pops into view, looking down on you with more concern than you recall her ever showing for you so far in the course of your relationship. You attempt to sit up, only to have her force you back down; it is at this point that you find you have your head resting in her lap. She's very warm...

"Hey, come on, are you alright?"

You nod as best you can.

"Yes, I believe so." A numbed, but still noticeable, pain emanates from your knee, accompanied by a new pain in your head. Something very cold is serving to soothe both, thankfully. Rather sadly, however, that does nothing for the pain in your stomach, or for your general wooziness. "I am ashamed to say I feel a bit worse for the wear, but I am alright."

Miss Lorelei looks most relieved to hear that, but her face quickly slips into an angry frown.

"What the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you say anything if you were in that kind of shape?"

You blink. Why didn't you say anything?

[ ] Write-in
>> No. 9387
[x] "Woof."
>> No. 9388
[X] "Ah, well, it wasn't very important."
>> No. 9389
File 122560572360.jpg - (48.44KB , 367x458 , 187961972.jpg ) [iqdb]
9389
[!/] Well I am a dog, after all.
It is only natural to attempt to hide such things.

So...Rumia is a female The Darkness?
>> No. 9394
[o] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9396
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9398
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.

Hmm.
>> No. 9400
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."

Battle Butler route
>> No. 9401
[x] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9402
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9403
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."

The other one is too much of a direct insult. She already feels bad about it, don't push too hard.
>> No. 9404
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9405
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9407
>>9403

She needs to know that she's acting like a slave driver. Since she finally doesn't seem to be enraged at our very existance, now's a good time to tell, I think. As to the other choice, blind obedience is not good.
>> No. 9408
>>9389
ITT someone does not know EX-Rumia.
>> No. 9409
{X} It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9412
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9413
>>9407
That's what the words "torment" and "endure" are for. It's indirect, but still clear.
>> No. 9414
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment I must endure."
>> No. 9416
[X] "It didn't seem like you would take `no' for an answer."
>> No. 9419
I like
[x] "Woof."
>> No. 9420
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9421
[x] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9423
[X] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9424
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9425
>>9420
>>9421
I see you, votespammer.

Discount these two if you like Patchwork, they come from exactly the same IP as an earlier vote. I was asked to check this thread for you.
>> No. 9426
[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.

This is likely to make her feel guilty but it's for the better.
>> No. 9427
[X] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9428
[X] "You are my master, until the contract is fulfilled I will serve without complaint no matter what torment i must endure."
>> No. 9429
>>9428
You too, faggot. Stop.
>> No. 9430
[Y] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.
>> No. 9431
>>9425
>>9429

Thanks for the assistance, HY.

At any rate, calling it for:

[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.

Writing will commence at some point within the hour.
>> No. 9439
File 122566325688.jpg - (101.91KB , 496x702 , mystia029.jpg ) [iqdb]
9439
Or not, of course. I should work on my work ethic.

***

[X] It didn't seem like you would take "no" for an answer.

***

Miss Lorelei is not likely to be pleased with your answer, but... it would be shameful to lie to a woman, would it not? Especially so for the woman who happens to be your direct superior.

"If I may be quite candid with you, Miss Lorelei, you... did not strike me as a woman who would take 'no' to be an acceptable answer."

There is something very unpleasant about seeing a woman flinch, especially when she appears downhearted. While you certainly cannot say that the guilt on Miss Lorelei's face is unfounded, it is still not a sentiment that such a pretty thing should be burdened with for too long. When she fails to speak up for more than a minute after your remark, you make an attempt to rouse her from her brief discomfort in the only way you know how.

"You need not take my remark too negatively, Miss Lorelei. Persistence can be a very attractive quality in a woman."

What ensues is rather amusing series of wild transitions in Miss Lorelei's expression: from guilt and regret, to confusion, to a rather bright flush of embarrassment. Her face is quite interesting to watch. Equally interesting is how much of her superhuman strength she can hold back when punching you in the stomach. Goodness, but that does make your eyes water, doesn't it?

"Shut up! Stupid dog! The only reason I'm showing concern for you is because Wriggle scolded me, and Cirno complained, and Rumia... Rumia said some stuff that I didn't really understand! Okay?"

"As you say, Miss Lorelei."

She turns her nose up at you again, a gesture that looks rather amusing when your head is in her lap.

"Anyway, you can't pay me back if you're dead, so... make sure you speak up sometimes."

"I will. In fact, if you do not mind me saying so," your stomach growls in a surprisingly beastly manner, "I do still feel a bit peckish."

"Then sit up." Miss Lorelei promptly shunts you off of her lap, and you comply with her demand. Bit of a shame, her lap was rather comfortable...

Once you are seated on the ground, Miss Lorelei passes you a plate with chopsticks, and a glass, which had been sitting at her side. This plate, you note with some silent delight, is at least twice the size of a normal one. How very generous of her.

"It's just leftovers, but make sure you eat it all. I don't want to waste any food."

"Very well. Thank you, Miss Lorelei."

She looks away from you as you start in on the dish. Considering that the ingredients have actually been cooked, it is a vast improvement over your previous meal. In fact, the taste is excellent, especially considering that it is nothing but leftovers. It occurs to you that you have never had any of her actual cooking before this; it makes sense, of course, that she would know her way about the kitchen, given her occupation, but... she can certainly be quite domestic, can't she...

"This is good."

Her cheeks light up again at your remark, but a tinge of pride creeps into her voice.

"Of course it is. Now shut up and eat."

---

After your meal is concluded, the two of you remain sitting out behind the stall. Your rather volatile dining schedule today forces you to wait about for your stomach to settle, but you cannot guess at Miss Lorelei's motives for lounging about back here. However, a woman is always pleasant company, so there are no complaints to be had about sharing your time out here with her. Not much conversation to pass around, but those are, as they say, the breaks.

When Miss Lorelei does speak up, you give her your full attention.

"Hey. Do you... do you feel up to one more job today? I mean, you're going to be working for me, so... there was one more thing I wanted to take care of..."

She appears a bit anxious.

[ ] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

[ ] Can it wait, perhaps? It has been a rather tiring day.
>> No. 9440
[ ] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

Anything for M'lady.
>> No. 9441
[X] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
>> No. 9443
[X] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
>> No. 9445
[X] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
>> No. 9446
[X] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
>> No. 9447
[ ] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
hey what do we have on us right now?
>> No. 9448
[X] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.
>> No. 9449
[x] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

Sounds like we're going to be working together on something, which is good.
>> No. 9450
{X} You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

Mystia~
>> No. 9457
>>9439

[°] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

appreciative dog is appreciative
>> No. 9463
[x] You feel better now than you have all day. Let's not disappoint the lady.

Of course.
>> No. 9470
File 122573433820.jpg - (17.46KB , 364x450 , sean_connery_as_bond.jpg ) [iqdb]
9470
So is anyone else besides me imagining this Anon to be like Sean Connery as 007, back in the day?
>> No. 9474
>>9470

Not really. This Anon is polite but not particularly suave or dashing.
>> No. 9480
>>9474
Maybe not in his actions, but sure as hell in his attitude and thoughts.
>> No. 9495
>>9470
Maybe Peter Sellers as Evelyn Tremble as 007 in the 1967 Casino Royale?
>> No. 9507
>>9495
Is that the shitty parody by the butthurt guy who tried to ruin the series and that had Woody Allen in it, or the really old one in black and white that got mangled by Americanization?
>> No. 9536
>>9507
Woody Allen. So it's the shitty one.
>> No. 9537
Wait, butthurt guy? Are you talking about Kevin McClory? Because he was the guy who was all up in arms about Thunderball, not Casino Royale. You know, Never Say Never Again.
>> No. 9542
>>9537
Different guy, similar cause for butthurt, I believe.
>> No. 27351
>>9677
Next thread. For the archive trawlers.

You let this die damn you.