She was quiet for a long time. I started to worry I'd seriously upset her. Then, "How?" she said, voice barely a whisper. "Where would we go? How would we survive? We'd need money. I can't steal any from Father. I don't want to go back there."
"You don't have to. We can get work somewhere. I ."
"Work? What could I do? All I have is my body." She laughed, though it sounded like a sob. "Though I could always sell that."
"No! Never. And you're wrong, Emma. You're so much more than your body." I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at her. "We could go anywhere, do anything! It doesn't matter, so long as we're together. We could get work on a cargo ship and explore across the sea. You could scribe for the shipmaster, and I could scrub the decks. Or we could hitch a ride south. There's farmland for miles down there. I'm sure one of those farms or towns could use a pair of helpers. We could milk cows together. Then maybe one day we could start a farm of our own. Take in a few orphans and sell potatoes at the market every winter."
She sniffled. "That sounds nice."
"I know. And there's no reason we can't have that. We just have to leave."
She squeezed my hand. I rubbed my thumb across her fingers and squeezed back. "What if we get caught?" she said. "Father would try to find me."
"The world's a big place. He can't mobilise the Imperial Guard to find us. And we can colour our hair and paint our skin, if we really need to. They won't find us, and they'll give up after a month anyway."
She went quiet again. I hugged her tight.
"So?" I said, hoping against hope. "Will you do it? Will you run away with me?"
She took a deep breath. "I — "
Someone knocked on the door. "Miss Valerie?" a woman's voice whispered. The swordswoman. Emma sat up. "We have company."
The Dating Sim
(Автор: Angush)
Emma Barnes
My feet carried me down the hall as I hurried in the direction of my chemistry class, my bag clutched against my chest. The halls were empty. Not surprising, given class had started five minutes ago. But the rules of the game meant I was never on time.
I heard footsteps echoing down a perpendicular hallway, moving toward me. I would have sighed if I'd had the time. It was just so predictable.
Just as I turned the corner, I bumped into someone. Or rather, she bumped into me. My arms wheeled as we both toppled, the end result being — of course — the contents of my bag spilled across the floor and me sat atop her face, my skirt ridden far enough up my belly that my panties were on full display. Her face was practically buried in my crotch. And as if that wasn't bad enough, both of her hands were cupping my butt, with one finger knuckle-deep in my asshole. How does that even happen?
I took small consolation in the fact that nobody else was around, and my panties hadn't gotten shoved to the side again, so I wasn't flashing her everything. Not like when she'd tripped and fell on me at the front gate. Or when we'd collided on the stairs. Or the accident in phys-ed that had left us sixty-nineing in the middle of the sports track. Or... well, you get the idea. Today's incident could've be worse. But it was still humiliating as shit. I mean, a finger in my ass? Come on!
I wouldn't have had this problem if I'd been wearing pants. I didn't even like skirts! I only owned like six or seven, and skinny jeans were way more flattering for my figure. But the universe had compelled me to wear a skirt this morning, and I'd been as powerless to resist as ever.
Slowly, my skirt slid down my stomach to its natural resting place, falling over Taylor's head. She shuffled and my body leaned back, uncovering her face again to reveal a fierce blush, her cheeks redder than my hair. Her finger twitched. The movement made my butt twinge and my breath catch. She must have noticed, as she turned her head to stare off in one direction, pointedly not looking at me and moving as little as she could.
She probably thought she was being nice. Or considerate. It was bullshit. She didn't know, but it was bullshit.
The world froze. All I could do was breathe and blink — and even those were done for me, run on a loop. Taylor was the only person that could move when things went like this, but judging from our experiences so far, she was limited too.
"ERABE!" a voice boomed. Like I was supposed to know what that meant. Three little blue windows popped up between us, slightly translucent, each numbered and containing text. I couldn't actually read them — they were reversed, from my perspective — but I could make a guess.
Taylor sighed, then looked over her options. The options that would dictate our future. With obvious reluctance, she removed one hand from my butt — not the finger one — and tapped the first listing. The window flashed and disappeared, and there was a moment of stillness. Then the world kicked into motion.
A shriek escaped my lips: "Kyaaaa!" as my body jumped to its feet, Taylor's finger popping out of my butt. I refused to admit I'd liked it. I staggered away from her until my back was against the wall. My hands took positions across my chest and crotch in the cliche `maiden protecting her modesty' pose — even though I was fully clothed — and one leg raised up until my knee was in line with my hip.
"Pervert!" I shouted, recognising the pattern. I'd gotten good at reading these things. But she'd chosen this? Now I wanted to know what the other options were! "Pervert, pervert, pervert!"
Taylor looked up at me, and I got a good look at her. She looked haggard, eyes drawn and set above deep, dark sacks. She winced as she stood and took a step toward me. "Sorry, Emma, I didn't mean — "
I punched her in the face. Not by choice, though I probably would have done it willingly. She went flying down the hall, way further than any punch of mine was physically capable of sending her, screaming " — toooo!" in a long, drawn-out note. She bounced off the floor, rebounded off a wall, hit the ceiling, then smashed into a set of lockers, caving them in.
The scenario ended. I didn't regain full control of my body — I never had that anymore — but I felt the invisible binds loosen. Taylor stood up slowly, looking even worse than before, though of course she wasn't seriously injured, just scuffed a bit. She glanced at me and nodded weakly, but said nothing. Then she shambled down the hall away from me.
I frowned. Had she chosen that one on purpose? Because it was the easiest for me? My body bent over to pick up my things. I rubbed my butt and smiled ruefully. She probably had. She was always good at reading me; I didn't doubt she knew I liked those ones. Getting to hit her like that was the only thing keeping me from slitting my wrists at night. Well, that and the universe.
My feet started moving on track again, and my good humour vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced with a growing dread. I had chemistry class now. With Taylor. And it was only first period. I had an entire day to get through yet.
I muttered a fervent prayer under my breath. But who was I kidding? Of course I was going to be her partner. I always was.
But hey. Maybe my clothes would survive this time.
* * *
Colin Wallis
The usual chime sounded from his computer, letting him know someone had patched into his private communications channel. "Colin?"
He spun his chair around to face the computer, meeting the gaze of his visitor's recently updated avatar. It was fully modelled, now. Much more complicated. He had theories as to why she'd upgraded now when she'd been so against it earlier, but she seemed reluctant to share just yet, and he didn't press her.
"Dragon," he said, casting a cursory glance at the bars hovering beside her. Nothing out of the ordinary, though the satisfaction meter had dropped more than he'd expected. Perhaps he'd neglected her somewhat. Hm. Easy enough to rectify. "How can I help?"
She shifted, looking down at her feet. "Do you notice anything different about me?"
Colin froze. That was it. The question he'd dreaded ever since his new life had started. This situation demanded careful steps.
He considered himself an observant man — tinkering would be difficult if he was prone to missing things, even occasionally — but... women were hard to understand. They seemed to treat a change of clothes the way he'd treat a new attachment for his halberd, as if changing clothes was something more than a ridiculous but necessary aspect of maintaining a socially acceptable everyday lifestyle.
Noticing a change of clothing presented no difficulty, though it was not typically an event worth commenting on. But Dragon's avatar wore the same attire it had on her last visit, so clearly that was not the answer she sought. Something else had changed. But what?
Two blinks activated the latest build of his analysis assistant, the program hooking into the camera in his helmet and scanning the feed for any and all details. A twitch of his left-hand ring finger prompted a port to open up at the base of his neck, between his shoulder blades. From that port emerged a tiny needle, sliding into his neck with an insignificant pinch and injecting a translucent fluid directly into his spinal cord. The drugs took effect instantaneously, and his brain kicked into overdrive.
Performance enhancers were dangerous, and he had relegated them accordingly for use exclusively in emergency situations. By his reckoning, this qualified. A flick of his eyes started a timer in the corner of his helmet display. A question such as Dragon's was time-sensitive, an optimistic estimate maxing at approximately six and a half seconds. If he took too long to respond, she would assume he was unable to recognise the difference in her appearance, whatever that was.
Such an outcome would likely result in a drop in affection and trust levels of anywhere between three to seven percent, dependent on several factors.
His eyes snapped to the boxes on Dragon's left. Her mood register indicated she was feeling uncertain and lonely, but excited. Not excellent. Evidently fifty-seven hours was the maximum possible period he could go without interacting with Dragon before incurring some penalty. He'd have to make note of that later. It was a non-insignificant difference to Hannah's sixty-five hours and Kayden's one-hundred-and-nine.
Yes, the mood readings were a concern. Uncertainty would likely result in a drop in self-confidence and cause a domino effect that would end with Dragon becoming more closed off on a personal level, potentially locking off a route.
Hm. That would not do at all.
He inspected her avatar closely. Her hair was unchanged in style and length, but it appeared to be approximately two shades lighter than it had been the last time he'd seen her. However, there had been an accident in his lab between then and now, and he'd been forced to recalibrate the gamma and colour gamut configurations on his two primary monitors, which Dragon was using now. That could skew the results. But there didn't seem to be any other changes.
A tough decision awaited. Should he admit to not knowing the answer, or guess? His helmet timer informed him he had two point two seconds left to consider. Tapping into the analysis assistant revealed it had not discovered anything out of the ordinary. He terminated both programs and opened his mouth to speak, but Dragon cut him off.
"You can't tell, can you?" she said, virtual lips twisting into a grin.
Fuck. He considered lying, but threw the idea out. He'd failed, and she'd caught him. Better to acknowledge it, no matter how much it would set back his progress on completing her route.
"Maybe you should turn around."
Frowning in confusion, he did so, just as the door to his lab opened. A woman walked in, clad head-to-toe in gunmetal grey armour. Only the lower half of her face was uncovered, similar to Colin's own helmet. She stopped by his desk, then reached up and pulled the helmet off — an act punctuated by a quiet pneumatic hiss as the clasps connecting helmet to body released — revealing a beautiful face and lush brown hair that went to her shoulders.
His jaw dropped. She smiled. "Project Soma?" he said, glancing back at his computer. Dragon's avatar was gone. "You completed it?"
"I did," Dragon said with a nod. Her voice sounded different when not being output through speakers. She stretched out her arms and waggled her fingers. "I still have concerns about the power supply, but everything seems to be working correctly. Even the nerve endings."
Colin rose from his seat and circled her, inspecting her head. She grinned. He removed his gauntlet and ran a hand through her hair. It felt like hair. His curiosity got the better of him. He poked her cheek and neck, feeling the way the skin gave way to his fingers. He pried open her lips to test the internal fluid generation and tapped her teeth to check hardness. He squeezed her nose and pulled her ear, nodding as the cartilage responded the way it should.
It was a masterwork. And not just in regards to the craftsmanship and technological achievements emulating so many aspects of the human body would require. The design was top-of-the-line too, with flawless skin and a perfectly sculpted face that looked nearly identical to her digital avatar's. He'd seen the blueprints and technical drawings and mockups, of course, even collaborated on much of the hardware, but having the final product standing before him was something else entirely.
He studied her eyes. They were photorealistic, the camera lens not visible at all. There was no indication that the inhabitant of this body was an artificial intelligence. Even the jerky, halting movement of human eyes was replicated perfectly as Dragon glanced at him. "Um," she said. "You're awfully close."
He jumped back, berating himself. Respecting personal space, rule thirteen of the gentleman's handbook. And the second entry of the `Signs of a Good Boyfriend' article from the latest Cosmopolitan. He'd thought he'd memorised those.
"My apologies." Colin looked at Dragon's stat bars, now hovering over her shoulder, dreading a decrease. The heart icon flashed to indicate a change in affection levels, but oddly, the numbers had gone up. Not by much, granted, but they had still gone up. Interesting. He would make note of that, too.
Dragon cleared her throat. Then did it three more times, as if testing the functionality. "So?" she said when she was satisfied. "What do you think?"
"It's exquisite."
Her cheeks coloured. Oh, the intricate designs that must have involved! He'd be thinking about that for days. Dragon shifted her feet. "Thank you."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw the affection meter rise another fraction. Compliments were consistent at that.
