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You have to have been walking for days. It’s all you can do to string even this thought together. You mind feels like a soup, barely livid amongst a sea of grays and whites. You surface for only a sparingly few moments every once in a while, before whatever spell that’s on you pulls you back down into the artificial, filmy dreck of pseudo-sleep.
You continue walking.
You don’t know how much longer it’s been, but you breech. You fall to your knees, coughing and spitting. Your mouth is cracked and dry, your feet are destroyed, your stomach empty and gurgling. You can’t even find the energy to curse whatever shithead magician did this to you. You pass out for a while.
When you come to, the sun is down. It’s a good thing, too; if you had slept any longer in the daytime, the heat would have surely cooked you to death. However, now you have a different problem. The lack of sun in the desert means a lack of heat. You start absently shivering, body on a delay from your mind. If you stay here, you die; you know that much. You haul yourself unsteadily to your feet and make for a cave system. Something in your brain distantly calls out danger, but you’ll take your chances with whatever’s inside the cave, rather than certain death.
You walk further. The cave turns out to be a vast, complicated network, with paths that loop back and overlap with one another. Surely as a sign of your good luck, these caves are not completely barren; you can see signs of old camps, poorly and quickly torn down. At one of the more recent ones, you scrounge for whatever scraps of leftover bread and roots and drops of water from discarded canteens that are left from the previous occupants. It’s enough to bring you back from the dead, and after your quick and desperate meal, you sit by the wasted, blackened remains of the campfire. You take stock of your current situation.
You don’t know who you are. You must have pissed off a time mage badly to end up like this. You have no water left in your skin, and you have no food left in your pack. This is concerning for obvious reasons. You don’t know any of your associates, no names of anyone who can help you. Thankfully, the spell isn’t powerful enough to erase the name of the country you’re in: Ivalice. You’re grateful you can remember it. You can barely recall a map of the country, but you surmise that it’s is due less to the magic and more of your poor geographic knowledge. After checking your pack, you find an old bedroll and some firemaking supplies, along with a pair of cheap looking daggers. Ah, you must have been a thief. No wonder you pissed off some spellcaster; you must have been trying to steal some Gil. You flex your fingers. Stealing Gil is probably all you know how to do; you don’t feel particularly skilled at anything. You silently curse whoever you used to be for not training more. To compensate for your lack of id, you trace your body with your hands. You have a wirey frame, most likely through lack of consistent meals. Your fingers are greeted with numerous bruises as they flare up to greet your touch. A small moan escapes your lips as you press down on one, the pain blossoming through you. It feels like a small, aching hug envelops you as you learn something new and interesting about yourself. Liking pain is totally and completely normal. This will most likely not come up again.
As your hands trace higher and higher, you ghost over a pair of small but soft breasts. Kneading them yields another soft moan. Something between your legs starts to heat up, and a gentle pressure grows in your loins. You feel like doing something about it, but you’re not finished taking stock of your situation. Your hands make their way up to your face. After grasping and pulling at your features, desperate to find psychological purchase in familiarity, you’re greeted solely by disappointment. You have no idea who the fuck you are; all you know is that you’re a human. This would be scarier to you if you didn’t have such an insistent throbbing in your loins.
With a silent ‘whatever,’ you give in to temptation. You start gently peeling your clothes off, carefully considering your bruises and shallow wounds as you go. You find a small, relatively comfortable niche of rock and lay down. You hurt all over, run ragged by your impromptu trek.
You’ve kept your underwear on up until this point. Something within your mind says that you’re not gonna like what you find in there. But there’s no point in waiting any longer, and finding out may trigger something in your memory. You peel off your well worn cotton underwear, and much to your pleasure, you find a completely average looking vagina. You are also 100% certain that it hasn’t always been there. What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” You say aloud, and realize that it’s the first time you’ve heard yourself speak that wasn’t a moan. Your voice is beautiful; low and husky, while bearing a beautiful melody in it. If you heard it come out of anyone else, you would surely be smitten with her. This new information is confusing you to no end. Your timeline now features a whopping two events, but the order they happened in is mystifying. You can feel traces of magic in your apparently new vagina, which means that a spellcaster certainly must have done it. An alchemist? Your genital transformation must have occured before the memory spell, right? Or are they connected somehow? Fuck it. You give up on trying to puzzle it out and just give in to the novelty.
You wipe the dirt on your fingers off on a clean patch of cloth and relax as you enjoy experimenting on yourself. You gently rub your clit as the feeling in your core gets stronger and stronger, and slow as you can feel yourself come close to the edge. As you try to shift positions, you accidentally nail a bruise, which nearly brings you over the top. You quiver and shake, as you mentally remind yourself that you are, in fact, into pain. You adjust, and experimentally rub one of the bruises on your stomach. It feels almost as good as rubbing your pussy, and you whimper. A soft “fuck,” escapes your lips in that velvety voice. From there, you’re lost in the moment. You dig your fingers deeper into different bruises, and the feeling of pain blooms wonderfully out of them, each with a similar yet distinct flavor. Some bruises and wounds hurt worse, and have a sharper feeling of pleasure to them. You start to sweat, which just makes the wounds sting worse, which just brings you closer and closer. Up and down, greater and greater. With each gentle circle around your clit, your cares drop farther and farther away. You dig in to another bruise and your tongue lolls out. You don’t even care that you’re drooling; you’re so desperate for this feeling that you’d do anything to feel it again. Up and down, up and down. You whine and moan as you work different wounds, fingers carefully gliding across cuts as you feel the sharp flares dance through your body.
Desperate for release, you plunge your fingers inside yourself, and that does it. You feel yourself tighten and constrict around your fingers, and a truly desperate noise escapes your lips. Your fingers work faster and faster as you get wetter and wetter. You’re met with almost no resistance, easily sliding in and out as you clench. With one last plunge in, you’re spent. You collapse in a heap, completely and utterly exhausted. You don’t know why, but you’re taken by a laughing fit. You ride the wave, and lick your fingers to clean them off. You taste good.
After a rest, you get dressed with newfound clarity. You still have no idea who you are, but right now, that doesn’t matter. All you have to do is get through this cave system, and then you can make it into a town and start asking questions about yourself. Damn, you hope you’re not wanted. That would complicate things. Something teases the edge of your attention as you put together your pack and get ready to move. Slowly, with immense horror, it dawns on you. You know where you are. Your dumb ass just stripped naked and masturbated in the middle of a Jagd. Your stomach bottoms out and you break into that same cold sweat. Fuck. The only lawless areas in Ivalice and you’ve found yourself belly deep in one. You’ll have to be careful from this point on. Fuck! In the back of your mind, you’d been wondering why you hadn’t seen anyone, not even a judge. Damn your hour-ago self! No wonder you had gotten bewitched, for a thief, you didn’t have instincts worth shit.
You make yourself focus. Self effacement will only get you so far. You set off through the Jagd, wary and on alert.
You make it a few hours before anything notable happens.
As you progress, signs of camps become more and more frequent and recent. In a direct conflict, you know you’re completely fucked. People don’t wander into Jagds without clans (apparently except for you), and you’re not sure if you ever had one in the first place. From what you could recall, clans in Ivalice usually had anywhere between 3 to 5 members, but those were the small ones. For clans with business in a Jagd, there were sure to be even greater numbers and a deficit of honor and restraint. That means it would at best be a one-versus-five situation, and without a judge here to ensure that you don’t die, a fight means the definite end of you. So it’s best to avoid one all together.
As you puzzle out these calculations in your head, you hear something to your immediate left. You turn.
Less than a stone’s throw away, you see three viera lounging about on the rocks.
It’s over.
Your stomach makes that increasingly familiar dropping feeling, and that cold sweat comes on again.
Your senses elevated, you take quick stock of the situation. The three viera have clearly noticed you, but haven’t shifted even a little bit. You’re off to a bad start. You don’t need to think very hard to know that they’re all completely out of your league. One is clad in thick black wrappings, so dark that she blends into the rock’s shadows behind her. She’s clearly an assassin, and she can probably kill you completely unaided with little trouble. One of the other viera wearing chunky red latex, a red mage. Her hat is drawn over her eyes and she’s seems to be trying to nap. The other is in fencing garb, meditating. She looks to be the weakest, but that isn’t saying much since everyone here except you seems deadly. Only the assassin is looking at you, but from the turning of ears from the others, they’ve all noticed you.
Your life is forfeit. You would say a prayer to your god, if you could remember which one you worshipped.
You tense, but nobody makes a move. The red mage and the fencer clearly don’t care enough to be bothered by you, but the assassin looks more entertained than anything. She obviously knows that you’re beneath her. As if to spite you, your brain produces an image of you beneath her. Your frustration at the unhelpful fantasy is intersected by resignation. There are worse things than getting murderfucked by a viera.
About 30 seconds pass, the assassin gazing at you all the while. You almost untense yourself several times, but you know that doing so would probably mean instant death, given how much training it takes to be an assassin. You could have been killed hundreds of times over already.
So why haven’t you been?
Against your best judgement, you relax your muscles and stand straight, still not saying anything. The assassin smirks, still not saying anything. At this point, you’re more confused than anything.
The red mage is the first one to break the silence. Slowly, icily, she lifts her widebrim hat slightly off her face. It’s just enough for you to see one of her eyes. It pierces you in a uniquely invasive way you’re sure you’ve never felt before, even though memory can’t verify it. She speaks.
“Leave it. They’re supposed to be through here soon anyways, then we’ll have our hands full.”
She drops the hat back over her eye, and you feel released. You almost stagger. Almost. Her voice keeps ringing in your ears. Buttery and beautiful, you’d do anything to hear it again. It’s deep in the same way yours is. You finish resolving these thoughts, and then it dawns on you that she called you an ‘it’. That makes you shiver. The assassin notices.
Another minute passes.
The silence is making you extremely nervous. It builds and builds and builds until it finally crescendos to an “Um, hello?” Fuck, you don’t know why you said that. Now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of the beautiful women. The assassin is silently laughing at you, and you can see the red mage grin snidely under her hat. The fencer is the only one who doesn’t react.
None of them respond as it dawns on you that there’s an expiration date on your life: there’s another clan coming through here soon, and if you’re caught in the middle of that conflict you with surely die. You have the choice of staying with these three strange, beautiful women and potentially meeting your death through a series of unfortunate social faux pas, or you can venture into the complete unknown, and meet your death in what will most likely be a far more horrific way. You choose the beautiful women. Hopefully you can be entertaining enough for them to spare you, or even protect you.
You also decide that you may be too optimistic for your own good.
Hey, you learned something else about yourself. You’re a sucker for beautiful women. Maybe that will aide you. You’re not sure what to say, so you put on a desperate, ditzy voice and just wing it.
“Um, hi! Sorry to bother you ladies, but I got really, really lost. I,, was wondering if I could get some help with directions?”
You stop short of twirling your hair, because that would just be overselling it.
The assassin maintains her silence, but her eyes seem more piercing, more hungry. You can’t tell if that’s good or bad for you. You decide that it might be a good time to show your hand, since nobody’s killed you yet.
“I think some time mage put a spell on me, haha.. I can’t really remember who I am or what I’m doing here?”
At this, the assassin laughs. It’s a condescending laugh, and you feel like you’ve made a potentially deadly error by revealing this information.
“Let me see if I have your story right. You’re far from home, you don’t remember who you are, left from right, or who you’re owned by?” Her voice is low and smooth, sultry and hypnotic. Under different circumstances, you’d do truly demeaning things to hear it again. However, you’re in current circumstances. You flush. “Well, I’m pretty sure I’m not owned b-”
She cuts you off. “Look, this would be a piss-poor excuse for some kind of trap, so I’m guessing you’re telling the truth. You’re an enticing piece of meat, though. Tell you what. There’s another clan coming through here that we have some business with. You can either try to run, and I’ll kill you, or you can come up here, strip, present, and I can give you the best night of your life before you shuffle off your mortal coil. You die either way, but one’s more fun for everyone.”
The blood drains from your face as you stand, agape. This feels less like a threat and more like a promise. You’re going to die. The thought loops through your head and you can barely notice yourself start shaking. It seems your reaction is only making the assassin hungrier. All of the sudden she’s on her feet, walking towards you. It makes you jolt in a deeply unhelpful way, and all the sudden you’re on your ass, desperately scooting away from her. She covers the ground easily, moving elegantly in a complete economy of movement. Your eyes are drawn to her hips and the gentle sway they make as she makes each step. You think your eyes are as wide as dinner plates. There’s no way she doesn’t notice you ogling and then she’s standing over the top of you oh god what do you do you’re gonna die. You shake and shake and shake and try to stare a hole in the ground as she bends down to get a better look at you.
“Come on, relax. You’re gonna take all of the fun out of this. Be a good girl and look at me, okay?” That at least makes you more pliant.
She gently takes you by the chin and tilts your head up to look at hers. You struggle to look away, but quickly give in as your eyes lock with hers. Now that you have a closer look, she’s dazzling. You get the distant feeling that she’s appraising you, taking in your features as one would a cut of meat at a market. You barely notice, though, because you’re lost in her features. Her nose comes to a regal point that seems to set the tone for the rest of her face, lucious deep brown fur radiating out from it. Her lips are quirked slightly up, and it’s all you can do to tear your eyes away from the way the sparing rays of light in the caves bounce off them. Then, as if stumbling into a trap, you gaze in her eyes. They lock with yours and you feel yourself drop, drop, drop deeper and deeper into them, deep black pupils completely and totally captivating you. You’re not sure how much time passes, you’re not sure if someone speaks to you, you’re sure of even less than you were a day ago. You finally, barely tear yourself out of her gaze. It feels like you’re surrounded by that dreamlike film, your movements restricted. You shake yourself off as best you can with her hand still on your chin. Blood stops rushing through your ears and her laughter slowly fades in. Where you expected derision there was none, and she looks at you almost sweetly. She bends down, moving past your face and towards your ear. Mercifully, something keeps you from gasping. If you had gasped just now, you know you’d be fucked. She talks, and you can feel her hot breath on your ear.
“I am going to hurt you a great deal.”
Now that makes you moan. Fuck. Fuck your entire stupid gay life, you’re going to get killed for real down in this cave because you can’t control your mouth when a sexy viera says she wants to hunt you for sport. She pulls back, and her face is crossed between excitement and comedic enjoyment. You wish she would just kill you, it would be less embarrassing than this. You sink your head into your hands. She obviously noticed you blushing, and now you’re fucked.
God dammit.
Pathetically, you look back up at her. Her face is still making that same expression, like she can’t believe how lucky she is for stumbling into someone like you. You might as well lean into it, right? There’s no pretending you don’t want it anymore. In a mewling, desperate whisper, you say “please, miss?”
Barely a moment passes before you’re on your feet, running with her, hand in her hand. You whisk past the fencer and red mage, who are both seem simultaneously peeved and used to it, like this has happened before. Finally, it’s the fencer’s turn to speak up. Her voice is deep and gravely.
“I promise, Vili, if you fuck up another ambush for us because you’re off playing with some meat, I’ll kick your ass. I promise!!”
The assassin, Vili, just laughs with wild abandon as she pulls you further and further to the far side of the cave. Their small camp comes into view, charcoal from a fire and three hastily hidden bedrolls behind a large stalagmite. Faster than you can see, she seems to melt out of and back into view as one of the bedrolls appears on the ground in a flurry. You figure you could make it probably three steps away from her before she’d slit your throat. Not that you want to, anymore. Your session earlier hadn’t completely tamped the feeling of need lingering in you, and meeting Vili hasn’t helped. As if on queue, she speaks.
“I can smell you from here, you know. You some kinda painslut?”
You know she’s just fucking with you now, but that doesn’t stop your body from having a reaction. You’re wet, now, and you don’t know whether to be extremely horny or extremely embarrassed. Both is also an option too, you suppose. All of the sudden, she has you by the back of the neck, staring into your eyes. All of the joy and mercy has vanished from her face. Her grip is iron. Her rapidly changing vibes are starting to scare you deeply. “If you aren’t fun enough for me, I’m going to make you regret it.”
You’re not sure if you’re a good judge of character. You can only remember 4 people in your life, three of them you met about 5 minutes ago, and one of them is yourself. But somewhere within you, you sense that she’s playing a part right now. In the extremely short time you’ve known her, she showed what seemed like true excitement to have met you. If she’s playing the role of the sadistic dominant, you might as well play the role of the desperate submissive. You look back into her eyes and don a pathetic, desperate expression. It’s honestly don’t even really an act for you at this point. “I promise to be good for you, miss.”
For the first time, you get a shudder out of her, and she honest-to-god bites her lip. You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve seen in your life, even though you don’t have the memories to verify it. You want to touch those lips. Possibly with your lips. Before you can broach the subject, she grabs you by the front of your tunic and pulls you down. In a swift move, you’re on the bedroll, supine, with your pack temporarily forgotten about several feet from you. She straddles you, and produces a tiny knife from somewhere in the folds of her black assassin’s garb. It’s surely not her only one. In a movement she’s definitely executed before, she deftly sticks the point of her blade into the midsection of your tunic and slices your clothes clean through. You’d be more concerned that you don’t have a change of clothes if this didn’t turn you on so fucking much. Vili stows the knife and tears the slit in your top open further with her hands.
“Damn, baby. You look pretty roughed up. I can’t wait to make it worse~”
You blush. You feel quite like prey right now, at the hands of a predator who’s still deciding what to do with you. Vili slides her hands across your body, lightly coasting across your bruises, and pauses to grope your breasts. You moan. She speaks absently, as if she’s more focused on feeling than talking. “Pretty noises…”
Suddenly, she drives a thumb into one of your larger bruises, and you can’t help but let out a groan. She apparently likes what she hears and presses harder. You squirm and gasp, and you both lock eyes. If you thought she looked hungry before, you were mistaken. She has a wild, crazed look to her now, and to be honest it’s just making you hornier.
You try to say ‘please hurt me more, miss’ right as she punches you in the stomach, so it comes out as “PleaUHNnnnhhhh…” Vili honest-to-god giggles, and you choke out “Thank you for hitting me,” as you ride the high of being hurt. The feeling of being punched is wonderful; it’s a round, even feeling that blossoms in your core. It leaves your cunt aching and your breath short, and you want more of it. You grind your pelvis up into hers without thinking, and a wave of pleasure rocks you to your core. Vili lets out a moan; it’s clear she’s enjoying it too. You need to hear more of that noise, you just need more of her in general. You grind faster and harder, desperate to get both of you off between the layers of cloth. Now all you can think about is penetration; you want to be fucked by this hot viera so bad. Your brain is fully off now; you emptily hump into her faster and faster as you feel something grow and harden in her pants. You’re caught off guard when she punches you again, but it just makes you more wet.
You slow with your grinding as her voice lilts slowly through your ears, “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? What, just a couple punches and you’re already an empty, willing slut? I bet you’d beg me to punch you again. Go on, beg. Be a good girl, you know you want to. I know you like it.” You moan and moan as her hand circles the sites of her previous punches, which are now aching with gentle heat. You can’t help but beg. “Please miss I’ll do anything for you just please hit me ag--” You’re cut off by another impact. This one was harder than the last two, and it has you seeing stars. Your cunt aches harder and harder, and you can feel your heartbeat in it. If you don’t get fucked soon, you think you’re gonna die.
All you can do is beg. “Miss please fuck me I’ll do anything to please you please please I’ll be good I promise,” as your speech dissolves into a collection of desperate pleas and whines. Vili clamps a hand over your mouth and responds, “That can be arranged, pet.” You whine. With her other hand, she lowers her garb bottoms, and out flops her member. It’s a long viera knot, and you get the impression that it’s big even by viera standards. It’s already red and throbbing and leaking, and Vili’s panting. You’re nervous. You can’t remember taking anything except fingers inside yourself. But now, you feel like you need her cock more than anything else in Ivalice. It’s difficult to tear your eyes off of her knot, but you stare at her straight in the eyes. “Miss Vili, I want you inside of me.” She shudders, and bites her lip again. If you weren’t loopy before, you are now, between the knot and her beautiful expression. She bends down towards you, and in the time that you’re preparing to kiss her, she dips her head down towards your collarbone. You feel her hot breath, and she slowly licks up the side of your neck while you gasp uncontrollably. You shiver and shake and squeak, when suddenly she bites downnnnn oh fuck and you’re seeing stars and your head is swimming. You hump into the air desperately, and you feel the head of her cock gently rub against your labia. You’re sinking and sinking deeper in the feeling, overwhelmed with lust. A pathetic, mewling “pleaaaseeee” grows in the back of your throat, and finally, thank god, she leans back and makes a move to take your bottoms off. With pure raw strength, she tears them in half. The spectacle of it just makes you more horny, and Vili knows it. She slowly, gently slides your underwear to the side, and takes her knot in her hand. She teases the head of her cock along the folds of your labia while you shiver and make lurid noises.
When you hump desperately in the air, she pulls her cock away and makes a ‘tsk’ing noise. “Such a pathetic fucking slut. I bet I could make you beg for anything right now.” You don’t really have the wherewithal to respond with words, so you just make a low keening noise. She laughs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Good girl.” You bathe in the praise, before a lightning bolt of sensation rocks you. A brutal, stinging burning opens across your chest, and let out a chorus of gasps and moans and cries. When you look down, you see that Vili’s claws are drawn across you, small tracks of blood welling up behind them. “Fuck,” Villi says, “Now those were some beautiful noises.” She swipes at you again, hard and fast, and you let out something between something between a scream and a groan. You look up at her with a pleading expression, not sure if you’re asking her to stop or asking for more. Her face is scaring you now. She looks completely enraptured in the moment, unwilling to quit hurting you even if you beg and plead. The thought just makes you clench harder, and the hunger in your core grows. Thankfully, it’s like she hears your thoughts, and finally thrusts her hips towards yours, coupling with you. As she slides her length inside, she’s met with little resistance; you’re wet to the point of leaking. It just keeps going and going, sliding further and further in. Caught breathless by the initial insertion, you squeal now, heart and soul completely taken by her cock. At the same speed she slid in, she now slides out just to the tip, and then pumps you full again. It’s complete sensory overload; you’re making noises you’ve never made before but you pray to whoever listens that you’ll get to feel them again. Your brain is moving slower and slower, dumbed by her knot as she fucks you, slowly but unrelenting. You’re awash and unmoored; an entire year could have passed and you would have had no idea, you’re reduced to nothing but a machine for pleasure, a sleeve for your Miss. You’d give anything to keep feeling this. And just as you feel like your mind is about to cave from the pleasure, you let out a scream as you feel your flesh rend again. You’re too fucked out of your mind to use your eyes properly, but just thinking about the look Vili could be giving you right now gives you chills. Then, another searing feeling of pain, intermingling beautifully with the pleasure, as it feels like she’s pressing one claw straight down into you. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain. You feel like she’s tunneling into your guts, destroying the epidermis and dermis and making her way to the subcutaneous fat, thick yellow ribbons being rent from your gut as she dives into you, her plaything, her little fuck puppet. And just like that, you feel completely fine, getting your cunt pounded all the while. For a sensory response like that there must be something seriously wrong, and in a brief moment of clarity borne from horror, you look down at your stomach. Completely fine! You look up at Vili, and she’s holding an empty bottle for a potion. It feels so funny to you that you collapse back to the ground, laughing through moans as her knot finally fully penetrates you. You know what’s coming next. You let out a long, luxurious moan as she fills you full of viera cum, thick ropes coating your insides. It makes you feel hot and full and dirty and so, so fucking horny. You can’t count how many times you’ve cum, but it’s been a lot. And you’d give anything to feel it again.
Vili collapses on top of you, sweaty an out of breath. “Holy fuck, that was fun. How are you holding up, champ?”
It takes a second to find your voice, but you eventually respond, “holy fuck.” Vili laughs in response, and you bathe in the beautiful sound. She puts her head to your chest, and you wrap your arms around her as you two relax into the afterglow. After a couple minutes pass, her knot pops out of you, but you two stay in your position on the bedroll. You’re happy, really happy. In a way that you’re not sure you felt before, even considering the memory loss. Apparently, Vili can feel you smiling, because she tilts her head up towards you. “Pretty good, huh? Maybe we’ll have to do it again sometime,” and then fucking winks at you. What a dork. You really like her. You respond with “I’d really love that,” and you squeeze her.
You spend a while longer with her in your arms before the red mage alerts her that the clan is about to be coming through. She leaps off of you and lands completely silently, but before she joins her clan, she produces that same small knife from before from under her garb.
She brandishes it and says, “Stay here, pincushion.” She smiles, and before you can react she’s sliding it into your lower abdomen. It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt in your life, and if her hand wasn’t clamped over your mouth you’d howl. It’s sharp and beautiful, and you feel yourself clench and unclench and clench again. It hurts, it hurts it fucking hurts god what did you do to deserve this but it feels so fucking Good. You can’t feel anything over the all consuming pain in your gut. You black out.
You come to once the fighting has already started. You try to focus through the pain and pay attention to what’s happening. Vili’s spinning and twirling gracefully, dodging swipes from the enemy beastmaster’s panthers while consistently landing hits. The red mage and fencer are wonderful in their own right; every member of the clan knows how to work in tandem, complimenting each other’s fighting styles perfectly. It would bring tears to your eyes, if they weren’t already there from the stab wound.
The fight continues, Vili and her clan lose a little ground in the natural flow of battle. The enemy clan has greater numbers, 6 members and a few beasts, but they’ve already sustained losses. You fade in and out, but try your best to pay attention. Suddenly, Vili finds herself in a bad position. An enemy hunter has a position behind her and is drawing a bead on her. Before you can think, you’re yelling “Vili!!! Behind you!!!” She instantaneously melts out of vision and rematerializes behind the hunter. She utters vile dark words as ichor leaks from her mouth, and before you have time to blink, her assailant turns to stone. For the briefest of moments, you think she looks at you and winks, but you can’t be sure. You figure it’s as good a moment as any to pass out from pain, so you give in and sink into ecstatic, agonizing blackness.
You come to a time later, and jolt awake. The action is clearly over, with dead bodies strewn all over. Vili and her clan seem completely unscathed as they sort through precious gems and jewels, as well as a high amount of Gil that the other clan was holding. No wonder Vili’s clan were targeting them. She sees your awake, and waves to you with a big grin on her face. You smile back, just as you remember that you passed out from a major stab wound. You check the area, and not a trace. Without looking at you, the red mage says, “I healed it with a Cure. No need to thank me. Vili says you’re tagging along with us so I figured it was the least I could do. I’m Neladi, by the way.” You say ‘thank you’ anyways, because you feel like it’s the nice thing to do.
And whoa, she’s fine with you tagging along? “You’re fine with me tagging along?”
The red mage lets out a short, mirthless laugh. “Course I am. Vili’s the leader, what she says goes.” She pauses her sorting through Gil and mutters, “besides, the stuff you did was like.. cool. and stuff.”
You giggle. “I mean, who am I to say no if you want a turn?” You can practically see steam coming out of her ears. You glance at the fencer, who’s trying her best to stay focused, but even she’s sporting a blush.
Suddenly, Neladi turns to you and says, “Look, if you’re gonna be in Clan Breakers, you’re not just gonna be the fuckpuppet, okay? We’re gonna train you long, and hard. You’re gonna be begging me to stop. I’m-.. Why are you laughing?” as you’re taken by peals of laughter. Vili’s laughing too, and the fencer is struggling to maintain their pious, unaffected expression. Neladi says, “Come on!!! I can’t do this if you’re laughing too! Help a girl out!” as Vili rolls on the floor.
You’re excited for what the future holds.