Overview

Robin doesn't like parties? Selene didn't really know her all that well. Her sister would surely know her better. It was possible then that she might not even show up! How could she achieve her quest then? If anything she might have just made things much harder for herself. "Well she did say she would come" the witch replied, albeit with a hint less confidence than she'd intended. Gosh. I might need to keep an eye out for her here! But at least we can look around for her, right? As it turned out Charlotte had different plans. Instead of seeking out Robin she intended upon getting a drink! In a way she had even invited Selene to get a drink! People generally didn't do that! Before she could even wrap her head around the idea another name was also mentioned. Lizzie? Do I know a Lizzie? "Surprise?" Unfortunately it was now Charlotte who took the lead. The confidence and focus that Selene had built up vanished, and the small woman found herself quickly following along behind the one she had been tasked to locate! She kept close, gaze darting about when possible to keep an eye out for Robin, however most of her attention remained fixated upon Charlotte. Losing her now would have been unfortunate, after all! Dang it! Well, it should be okay still. Right? One drink is fine! Maybe I'll see Robin on the way?

Dylan tensed at the thought. Part of them wanted to see the chisel drive into the law students' smug, handsome faces. Instead, they clenched their teeth. "Something like that, I guess." Dylan's hand ached and they flexed it, feeling the ache shift into sharp pain. "I'll find her myself." Dylan said, reaching their good hand into heir pocket and juggling the remaining ecstasy tabs, as they turned toward the house. 'What do you want?' Dylan asked themself as they walked toward the house, looking for Robin, Derek, Charlotte, or Selene - any familiar face. The question was one they were poorly equipped to address. What they wanted had never been a factor. They'd been made for others' pleasure - a task they had been failing at all day. If not that, then what? What did they have for Robin? Questions swarmed as they made their way to the house, Dylan knew, but couldn't say what it was they wanted from Robin. To fold into her, disappear, be absorbed into a person. But they were a Freak.

Shall I wait for them before I reply?

Charlotte probably doesn't care enough to correct her. I'm holding off on Robin and Velvet until @DreamsnThings gives us a post. Whats's Velvet up to?

Dylan ended up asking two visiting law students on their summer break. They both dressed like everyone should know their fathers, with light shorts and unbuttoned shirts. The newest model smart watches and sunglasses which would put Dylan in debt. They were sipping expensive looking micro-brewery IPAs and discussing their summer conquests. With a raised eyebrow one replies: "Who the hell is Robin." Before the other interrupts: "It's the girl from the Miller stream. She's totally on my list for the night. Though I couldn't find her instagram or anything. I think she's some kind of protected christian girl that is not allowed to talk to boys. And you know girls like that is crazy in the sack." The first one then focuses the conversation back to Dylan. "So why do you need to find her? Wanna hit it too?" Over at the other side of the party Selene and Charlotte hops out of the car. Charlotte's been glued to her phone since getting into that car. Murmuring annoyances towards Billy. "You know Robin's never going to something like this. She too uptight for this kinda things. I've invited her before and she snitched to my mom. Ugh. We should get something to drink, and we gotta find Lizzie. Apparently she has a huge surprise for me." Charlotte takes the lead and starts moving through the thick crowd. She's by no means a large girl, though her sour mood is enough to give her an opening.

"Easy... Easy, fella..." Emily whispered aloud as she sent the words flowing through the computer spike into the Hive frame's consciousness. The aftershocks of her climax continued to bleed through the connection as well, adding a surreal tranquility to the frame's gait as it followed her direction and leapt for the passing carrier. The jarring impact made Emily's hand close around the cybered hook holding her in the destroyed cockpit and her breath caught as the frame, unused to having this much freedom, toddled a bit before rolling itself aboard and dropping to a nervous, defensive crouch. The other LU frames meant it no harm, but the freshly liberated mind couldn't have known that for sure—only what reassurances Emily's thoughts were feeding it, drifting in like a memory of a dream. "It's ok..." Emily cooed, but as she did, she could feel the ecstasy and adrenaline already beginning to fade. While the carrier engines pulled her away from the fighting below, she flinched, gritting her teeth as synch-shock rippled through her cyber. For most pilots, synch-shock was an uncomfortable bit of nausea that came with synching to a BioFrame not entirely compatible with them... a new companion or one that harbored some hostility or grudge against them usually. It was annoying, but manageable with deep-breathing and maybe an antiemetic in tougher cases. But for Patches, her abundance of haphazardly-rigged cyber complicated things. She was sharing a mind with the liberated Hive frame, a scared creature trying to understand what was happening through the cracks in the metal shell that blinded its feral mind up to that point—synch-shock was all but inevitable in these cases until the frame calmed down—and it was only natural that part of its anxious padding about and scanning would involve reaching into Emily's consciousness as well, disrupting the mech-parts keeping her together. Error codes flew, and twitches rippled through her limbs as Emily engaged the manual locks to keep her seizing body from simply throwing her from her precarious perch. Riding out the wave, she unlocked her arms and head, releasing a sigh through the metal slits of the vents cut into the sides of her throat like gills. With an unsteady hand, Emily pulled a pill bottle from her jacket, her fingers tacky with the drying neurofluid lingering on her skin. She downed the pill, feeling her body numb, the connection to the hijacked frame dulling slightly, but also keeping it from messing with her cyber any more than it already had. "It's going to be ok," she said once more, reaching through a blasted plate and caressing a bare bit of the BioFrame's flesh beneath. "You're safe." "Emily? You okay?" At Captain Payarkoon's call, Patches rolled her neck, unlocking the rest of her joints and dangling from the exposed hole in the Hive frame's chassis. "All good, Captain. He's nervous but steady." Emily didn't know if the frame was a 'he' a 'she' or otherwise, it was more a habit—the way people tend to assume dogs are male and cats are female until given evidence otherwise—and regarding a Hive frame, they weren't likely to know until someone was able to successfully synch with it. Even after pulling the Hive plating and limiters off the poor creature, it was likely neutered of any external genitalia that might give a hint to its origins or identity. Of course, looking down at her nude Captain, it was extremely clear what sort of bits she was carrying. Maybe it was the lingering bliss of her climax with Scylla or perhaps the warm fuzz of the drugs keeping her body from collapsing in on itself like a dying star, but Emily found she lost her train of thought for a moment as the captain's athletic and glistening body bent back to look up at her. Payarkoon was a hard-ass, but she came by it honestly—Patches would swear she could have bounced at quarter off that dark curve. The Hive frame shifted, giving the Captain an interested look as it picked up Emily's thoughts, and she quickly shook her head to refocus. Business first. "I'll try to keep him reined until engineering can get a—REBECCA! // @GhostSeer//" Emily waved across the open hanger to the dark-haired engineer who had just pulled them out of the fire. "Perfect timing! We hijacked this Hive frame. Can you get under the hood and let us know what we're looking at?"

as the nude commander examined the new frame the carrier pilot chimed across the all hands push, "With the thrusters working at peak efficiency transit to Firebase Delta Foxtrot will be reduced to 10 minutes. Scans show no sign of pursuit. Gears, get to the Frame bay - looks like we have another newbie and some old friends to patch up."

Emily could feel the Hive Frame like a lover's caress through a heavy quilt. There were hardware locks on the interface. Normally it wouldn't be much of a problem, but the chipware that converted the pilots thoughts into code for the cybernetics had been smashed. The sexual energy and euphoria that lingered with Emily was enough to push through, to reach the Frame's isolated, half numb psyche through the quilt. It reacted, following Emily's urging towards the carrier. It was confused and frightened, and because of that, slow. A hail of solid rounds and searing energy washed indiscriminately over Patune, Granite Scyllia and the new Frame. Granite returned fire as everyone hooked on. The liberated Hive frame shield away from the fire as Ya fought Patune's desire to fight back. The Hive's remaining heavy Frames concentrated fire on Patune, tearing away chunks of flesh and armor before the carrier had them clear. As they spun towards the sea, the Hive frames continued firing at the Union carrier. They had not fired a single shot at the Kaiju. Magda could feel Patune's frustration. "Easy boy," she purred, finding the tendrils that filled her sex. She caressed then with delicate fingers and felt the Frame begin to spiral inside. "Yes, big brother...." She sang softly as she gave herself over to him, letting him pump another tentacle into her throat. His pleasure compounded hers, which compounded his. With each second she felt the sexual energy building and with it Patune's anger fading. She rewarded him by using both hands to jerk off the thick tendrils that were stretching her cunt so exquisitely. The commander dove headlong into Patune's consciousness inviting him to push her over the edge so she could pull him after. It didn't take long before the big frame's consciousness went white with pleasure and Magda moaned onto the thick nerve bundle that filled her mouth. As their orgasm dissipated, Magda lay in her nest of nerve fiber and neurotransmitter slime sharing her bliss until he was calm enough for her to leave. She hooked into the carrier's comnet, "Good job everyone, but we're going to need an engineer in the Bio frame bay." She disentangled herself and climbed out of her cockpit, naked and glazed with the dark neural fluid. She ran through the bay to the new frame and climbed up to the open cockpit. "Emily? You okay?" She called.

This is my favorite post from this game so far.

"Of course," Emily groaned, seeing the large BioFrame Ya had sighted for her. Taking hold of the black tendrils nearest her hands, Emily's thoughts and small motions helped Scylla to reorient her in the cockpit, turning her booted feet to the fleshy channel at the base of Scylla's white-steel spine. She was panting, her eyes fluttering as sweat poured over her temple and caught in her hair or mingled with the layer of neurofluid on her skin linking her to Scylla's mind. The feeling was intense, demanding her attention. Emily wished she could simply give in... just lose herself in the blissful insistence of the black tentacles her BioFrame used to draw pleasure from her like a pump. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to hold out... tried to make it count. Every second she did built Scylla's fervor, driving the tentacled frame on like a demon on the battlefield. "F-fuck!" Emily gasped, her shoulders tensing as she tried to focus, watching through the shared senses as she felt Scylla galloping over the coastal field in the same rhythm her tendrils were pistoning inside of her. Time dilated as the computer trajectories of Scylla and Patches' cyber mingled with the BioFrame's feral instinct and Emily's own intuition. The shared minds made a plan on the fly, half-practiced, half-improvised. Something that took them both working together to realize. Her feet came together, her pussy clenching on the pumping head of the tentacle stroking her inner walls like the coil of a soft, fleshy screw. The other tentacles around her body slipped from her clothing, coiling around her like a dozen dark pythons that held Emily immobile, tugging her pony-tail painfully back and making her lips part in an O as the weak shiver of barely restrained pleasure—of the orgasm her body demanded and she would not yet give—rippled across her flushed skin. Scylla was at Patune's back now, leaping for the broad war-frame's shoulders like a pouncing jaguar and gripping, perched like a parrot for one small second as white-steel claws and fanning, eight-meter tentacles arced over Scylla's cephalopod head. "Now!" Emily cried out. Release. Like a shockwave, Emily's head was thrown back, her eyes shooting wide and reflecting the dim glistening flesh around her like starlight. Her senses faded, flaring and going dark for one bare second like a candle caught in a harsh wind. Scylla made a roaring, warbling sound, arching in a similar motion as her tentacles and limbs all shot back onto Patune's shoulder, launching her in a leaping arc for the disabled BioFrame. The Hive frames did not expect the abrupt charge and there was momentary confusion as targeting lines were adjusted and defensive postures were swiftly drawn. But Scylla made no move to attack. Reaching the downed frame, her access port slammed to damaged cockpit Patune's mass drivers had just blasted to shreds. There was a wet squelch as black tentacles ejected from Scylla's access port at the base of her torso, and Emily, still in the throes of her own aftershocks was deposited into the broken frame. With a smile, the pilot's cybernetic hand grasped the rent metal, a hook ejecting from the base of her palm to clamp her in place like a climbing piton. With the other hand, she drove a computer spike into the blasted Hive console, directly through a blood stain where the obliterated pilot must have been, and an arc of blue electricity coiled up the spike's lead to the base of Emily's skull. "I'm in! Get to the carrier!" But she didn't need to give the order. Scylla knew what to do. And using the disabled BioFrame as a springboard, the white, tentacled mech propelled herself up toward the low-flying carrier, swinging wildly for the extended platform that would give her a place to land. //Emily makes her Burglary roll to hijack this Hive frame. = 5 = (Burglary +1) + (Edge of Glory boost +2) + (roll -1, 0, 0, +1) + (Fate point invoking Silicon-Hearted Mech Hacker aspect +2) // //I can make any rolls you might want for Scylla if we need to check any of the stuff she's trying to do //

It was a weird weekend all the way around.

Sorry! It fell through my notifications and straight out of the back of my mind. I'll get a reply out soon to see if we get this Hive frame.

Shall I wrap this scene up and return us to the firebase?

Color me both late to this discussion and intrigued by the idea of a card based sex fight. I can see how the mechanics could be adapted to using an endgame state as orgasm rather than 0 health. The trick being working your cards to get both (or all) sides to orgasm at the same time (same turn). I'd actually like to see this card game, never mind the PbtA emulation of a card deck. I can see the "Oral Expert Deck" and "Edging Enthusiast Deck" trying desperately to mill the Edge deck and stall the Oral deck.

Magda marked the lead Hive frame in the unit's heads-up-display and lined up a mass driver shot that would plow through the cockpit, hopefully killing the poor pilot instantly. The pilot was no more evil than the BioFrame they piloted. It was the masters they served - unwittingly - that were the real threat. The Union needed weapons and that pilot had one. She sighed and screwed herself onto Patune's gyrating tentacle trying to convince him to stand still. She had felt him in her mind since before she was born, Had spent more time tangled in his thoughts than she had her mother's arms - he listened and she nuzzled his sensitive nerve bundles, trying to soothe him. The lead frame suddenly changed it's vector, cutting towards Granite! "Flora!" Ya screeched, "Abort! Fall back! They're going to double team you." Her urgency surged through Patune and the massive BioFrame explode forward, bearing down on the Hive skirmisher as Granite's blades tore into its companion. "Scyllia! Carrier, now!" Magda ordered. With the grim predictability that only The Hive could muster, chain gun and laser fire from their heavier BioFrames began to wash over Granite and Patune. Granite's dense, armor chipped and smoked as the kaiju charged away from Scyllai, toward the defenseless outpost. Bullets tore into Patune. Armor and his thick hide seared and blood sprayed as the brute bellowed his fury. He snatched the smaller frame before it could clamp onto Granite. An arm sundered, metallic skeleton sparking as Patune cast it aside, the BioFrame's ichor splashing over him as his massive fist crashed into the core. The Hive light frame's armor had never been engineered to withstand that kind of force and his blow almost certainly reduced the pilot to goo. More fire raked over Patune and Magda could feel his bloodlust rising. She sighted one of the larger frames on the edge of their formation. "That one, Patches!" Magda ordered, pointing it out to the hacker as she targeted a joint in the big frame's armor. The mass driver hissed as the Gauss fields activated. The shot found its home and the Hive BioFrame went rigid. Now came the hard part. Getting Patune to charge the disabled Frame. "Granite!" Ya yelled, marking the dust-off point next to the disabled frame. "Carrier - we need evac before my friend loses his temper!" //Emily, it's to you to hack this frame. Take the boost //Rebecca: You have the Hive media drone. Roll +Provoke to see what kind of footage you get. //Patune, Granite and the Carrier are all going to be banged up after this encounter, I think.

Oh right! My bad! I just noticed that. Wow I used sister every time. Yeah we can chalk it up Selene just being wrong, that definitely does fit with her being super introverted and socially awkward! And probably out of touch with people stuff.

@Chiyako Selene is adorable ❤ I do want to clarify that Charlotte is Robin's cousin. Robin and her mom moved in with her aunt and cousin at the start of summer, though, I could see Selene being confused on it seeing how she's a bit of a shy bean without many friends.

Find Robin. Deliver Charlotte. Acquire friends. Enjoy the party! It'll be easy, right? In the hopes of further enticing Charlotte to follow her to the party Selene had offered to pay for a ride for the both of them. She didn't have her own vehicle. Her father wouldn't allow it, and while his excuse was that she didn't really need one in a town of this size she had the sneaking suspicion that he was using it as an excuse to keep her close to home. Not that she minded, of course. She loved both of her parents, and she knew that her father really loved being around her. It did however make situations like this one a bit more awkward. "I think we should find your sister when we get there. Once she sees that you are okay then everyone will be able to enjoy the party! Right?" A smile was flashed towards the goth girl. She was doing her best to keep calm, to show confidence, and at the moment she was actually succeeding! There were stakes riding on her getting Charlotte back to her sister safely. And besides, they weren't here very late. Surely there wouldn't yet be too many people, right? They were going to go in, see Robin, be friendly, and enjoy the party. That's it! No tension, no embarrassment, no worries! When the vehicle finally came to a stop Selene unbuckled her seatbeat and leaned between the front seats, cash already in hand and extended to their driver. "Thank you sir! Have a good day!" A tip was included, of course. It would be rude not to do so, even if tipping wasn't something she quite agreed with. Their driver had no control over that. Upon exiting Selene popped out a wide brimmed dark purple sunhat, briefly dusted off a piece of lint, and then set it neatly atop her head. It was fashioned after the design of her witch's hat and included a brighter purple inner liner. This was paired with a kimono style robe worn closed which obscured most of her body, one of similar color and only a hint see-through, covered in faint stitched cresant moon patterns. She was used to living in a swimsuit focused town, but generally tried to avoid doing so in public. Besides, revealing the swimsuit later added an air of mystery which some people found appealing! At least that is what one fashion book had proclaimed. Purple sandals with fake amethyst cresant moons tied the outfit together. "Oh. Gosh." There were already quite a few people at the party! With a nod towards Charlotte the small witch led the way forward. She could feel her nerves growing but, for the moment, retained her composure. For the time being she moved with more confidence than she was used to, a mission in mind which propelled her forward without her typical anxieties, focus hardening her resolve. Her gaze darted about, taking in the sights, memorizing the layout and the faces. A friendly nod was offered towards those who acknowledged her, although she was used to going unnoticed, and generally those who did notice in the past only had unpleasant remarks for her. Her true goal at the moment was locating Robin, and she kept a constant eye on Charlotte. It would be pretty sad if she arrived without the girl in tow, after all! Step one: find Robin!

TW: Self harm Under the dim, orange light of the old basement bulbs the chisel drove into the wood surface of the workbench with a satisfying, rhythmic thwup, thwup, thwup then a quieter, softer sound. The manufactured toy felt the sudden sharp pain and accompanying ache as the chisel's square edge dug into the back of their hand. Dylan looked down, curious about how they'd missed that badly. It seemed to them that the should have hit a finger, or a knuckle, maybe between two knuckles. Instead, the flat steel was outlined in seeping, dark blood about an inch behind the web between their thumb and forefinger. Dylan flexed their hand, watching as the tendons moved, felt the bone grind under the sharp edge of the tool and squeaked in pain. They tried to lift the tool but found they had to wiggle it to free it from the bone. They wiggled their fingers again, watching through the cut as bones moved and tendons slid. Dylan wasn't sure if they thought it was cool that so much effort had been made to make them or terrified. They turned their oddly pretty face toward the dark window, hoping to find clarity. They were made for one thing and honestly, it was clear they weren't very good at it. Dylan sighed and looked back at their hand, Dark blood oozed out of the gouge and dripped onto the bench. They watched for a long minute as the bulb reflected in the slow, wet flow. There was no clarity there either. They should at least go see Robin - they'd promised. Dylan stood up and regarded their aching hand trying to decide what to do. There were bandages in the closet and they wrapped it up with the skill acquired by being a medical kit. Dylan changed into their new clothes, pulling their bikini tight over the slight bugle of their mixed use genitals. The walk was not bad if they went down the hill and cut across the beach. the beach seemed especially attractive now. Quiet, dark, abandoned. Dylan looked back at the empty house with a smile. Empty. Freak. It felt better than empty. It was not alone, It was true. They looked toward the house where the party was gathering momentum and walked up from the beach. Dylan fondled the baggie of tablets in their pocket as they walked up to a teenager they didn't know. "Um, have you seen Robin? Might have come with Charlotte or Velvet."

The carrier thrusters roaring overhead, Emily called back, "On it, Ya," while her body rolled and the dizzying stimulation between her legs mad her gasp into the comms. With the drone hacked, Emily routed the connection directly to her cyber, bypassing Scylla. When she jumped the Hive frame, she would have to trust her partner to follow the simple command and get to the carrier, she wouldn't be plugged in to give any more complex commands. The ferocious eight-meter tall BioFrame wasn't really large enough to stand toe-to-toe with more brutally constructed war-frames, but she had a chihuahua-like tenacity that made Emily terrified she'd one day pick a fight she couldn't win. "Alright, call it out, Ya. Who's our Sleeping Beauty?" Emily said, assessing the incoming Hive frames as Scylla fell into a panther-like gait behind Patune, sweat running down her back as she rode the edge, biting her lip until it hurt. Scylla's coiling tendrils sucked against the slope of her hip and ass, flicking over her clit like the vibrating tip of a tongue while the thicker tentacle between her legs, swirled itself into tight, steeply sloped pyramid shaped somewhat like old pictures she'd seen of soft-serve ice cream. Her thighs quaked, tensing as the cyber in her spine began to misfire from the surges of endorphins, making her head jerk back in a ticking rhythm. She and Scylla might only get one chance to make this work. That would be her moment. "Ya, gimme a fucking target!" Emily groaned, the high keening in her voice clear through the open channel, and looping in Gears, she added "Gears, I have a Hive drone on remote. Pa~a-Ah~ss~ f-fuck—Passing control to you." And continuing to ride the edge of release, Emily routed control of the Hive drone filming the encounter to their engineer on the carrier overhead. //I would like to roll Emily's Sex skill to try and use this edging she's doing with Scylla for a boost on them, On the Edge of Glory. If it works, I plan to cash it in when Emily makes her attempt to board the Hive frame// //Rolled Sex = 2 = (Sex +1) + (roll -1, +0, +1, +1) //

"I'm working on it!" A young woman with long curly dark hair screamed out as she was working in a tight space. She was focused on the job at hand and didn't appreciate someone yelling at here. "How did I even end up here..stupid bitch! Piece of shit...WORK!" Rebecca would be talking to herself and the engine as she tinkerer away until it started working. Humming to life as if taking its first breath. The young woman would start crawling back yelling out that it's ready.

As Velvet's pink Jeep came to a stop, Robin looked across her friend and guide to the windows of the house. Glimpses of the party beyond showed the mingling crowd of college-kids, and she sees a few around the side of the house in the glow of the lights by the backyard pool. The thrumming bass makes her heart pound even harder than it already was, and she bit her lip as anxious doubt began to creep up her spine in a slow chilling crawl like a spider. "Oh. Oh, gosh. That's a lot of people. Are there usually this many people?" she asked, swallowing. "Maybe I should have worn something with a skirt or-or some shorts, or something. I-I-I'm... People are going to stare." Robin didn't know exactly when she grabbed Velvet's hand, but she was holding it now and tightly. "Maybe this was a mistake. I know you, but I don't see Dylan and I mean, I only kind of know Derek. A-and I still don't know where Charlotte is or if Selene managed to find her." As Robin's fingers began to shake in Velvet's hand, though, her eyes meet her goth friend's. And the fear started to quiet. "Sorry. I-I'm ok," Robin said with a pale little laugh. Then, mustering up all the courage she had, she leaned across her seat and kissed Velvet, her lips pressing to the black lipstick as if afraid her friend was about to simply evaporate in front of her. And with a cadence that made it clear how alien the words felt on her lips, Robin said, "We're bad bitches tonight." When they did finally leave the Jeep, Robin's eyes continued to drift to the pool, Velvet's prophecy about being 'picked up and carried by boys' still extremely vivid in her mind.

It cuts to Derek. He's wearing long and loose shorts and an unbuttoned white shirt. He's holding a whisky glass which he waves around as he articulates. He's telling a story to small group of girls in a bathing suits. He's by the edge of pool, it zooms out to show the entirety of the rounded pool. A guy leaps into the pool while popping a bottle of champagne. The camera pans to show the a massive beach house crowded with intoxicated youth. Down at the beach there was a beginning of a massive pyre. A huge boombox is blasting music from atop a towel on the sand. It cuts to the house. The top floor has an open bar. One of Derek's friends is DJ-ing. His family owns a somewhat professional setup. Sam and Lizzie are sitting by the bar overlooking the dance floor. They're taking pictures and filming the dancers. Reviewing their outfits, calling most of them out of style. (How do each of you arrive. Where are you drawn to?)

As are we all, I think.

ah, gotcha, im just impatient, and invested in this xwx