“I made a mistake,” Blaine said when he saw Katya after logging back in. She blanched, her eyes wide with horror, and he hastened to clarify. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I meant! I mean spending my money! Spending money, that’s all!”
“Oh, of course,” she tried to laugh it off but he could actually see the pulse racing in her throat. She wasn’t panicking, but that had been close. She's real enough, dumbass. Choose your words more carefully.
“I meant I should have thought of you,” he explained as he sat up from where he lay on the bed. “I blew all that money yesterday on gear, but didn't get you anything. And I love the bikini, don’t get me wrong, but you should look like you're mine. Something that says I'm proud to be your meister."
Katya tilted her head, watching him. Her posture was relaxing by degrees, her arms loosely crossed. As he spoke her lips quirked in a genuine smile, and by the time he was finished she was stretching out, long and lithe like a cat. "I could do with something to wear..." she agreed, giving him a cheeky grin. "Not that I care much about fashion, but I'd love to make a statement for you."
Blaine snorted. "Violence might be a universal language, but fashion is right there beside it. Okay, guess we're going to the mall... oh shit, wait. Is weapon clothing expensive?"
Her smile slipped and she cut her eyes away, she could do the math as well as he. "Oh, then never mind. It's okay, really, I don't need anything. You can run a few matches and then decide."
Mmmm... no, she wasn't fooling him twice. Blaine had seen the way her eyes had tracked weapons on the street. She deserved something. His eyes flicked around. The bed sheets... no, he couldn't make those work. But then an image flashed into his head, and he grinned. "Okay, I've got it. Let's find some tape."
Katya wrinkled her nose as he held up the roll of black electrical tape. “I don’t understand. Are you going to tape clothes onto me?”
“No, that’s not it,” Blaine grinned as he ushered her into an alley. She peered up at him skeptically as he explained. “The tape is the clothes. Take off your top.”
He’d spent twenty-five of his last twenty-eight credits on the single roll. Peeling off a strip of tape he carefully laid it over one of the blonde’s pink nipples, the black strip gleaming against her skin. She shivered a little at the sensation, but watched with growing interest as he pressed more pieces over her chest, creating sleek chevrons that covered just enough of her breasts to get by. Her green eyes widened as he kept working. "That's... actually kind of cool," she admitted.
"Hold that thought," Blaine pressed the tape down more firmly and kept working. More chevrons now swept over her shoulders, while parallel lines along her ribs accentuated her athletic build and drew the eye to her toned stomach. The bikini bottoms stayed in place but disappeared beneath a fan-shaped design that radiated from her hips and traced her thighs.
When he finally stepped back Katya turned and inspected herself in a darkened window. "Huh," she murmured, running her fingers over the lines. "It's... wow, it works. I kind of love it."
"Good," Blaine pocketed the last of the tape. "You rock it. I may not be rich, but people will look at you and know I take care of you anyway."
She glanced between her reflection and him, her grin softening. "You do take care of me," she said quietly. Coming back to him, she rose up on her toes and kissed him. He cupped her cheek and returned the kiss, slow and gentle.
When the kiss broke her grin returned, bright and teasing. "Okay, are we going to the competition center now?
"Of course," he offered his arm and she took it, tucking herself comfortably in at his side. "Let's see if I'm any good at this game."
Match starting.
The darkness fell away from the world around him. Blaine blinked, looking around, instinctively on the move before he'd even totaled his surroundings. He was in a... jewelry store? His feet crunched on cheap plastic as he walked over a veritable wave of earrings that had fallen from displays around the room. This was one of those shops you saw at the mall that all the pre-teen girls got their first piercings at. The name of the place escaped him.
The register offered him concealment, if not cover. He crouched behind it and held still, his ears straining. From the sounds and the lack of air currents he was... inside a mall. Yeah, that made sense. A few random echoes from outside, a lot of silence. Mall seemed right. He held Katya in a two-handed grip, the safety already off, waiting patiently for any signs of life out there.
Sure enough, after a couple of minutes he heard approaching footsteps, and he realized his mistake.
The ground was littered with junk--he might as well beat a drum before he emerged from his starting location. He should have found a better place to hunker down. Fuck! Fucking fuck! The footsteps were cautious, with long pauses between movements. Someone was moving from cover to cover out there, taking their time to clear each store front as they passed it. Someone smart, someone who knew how to handle themselves.
That might work to his advantage, actually. Normally Blaine would never shoot blindly, it was a waste of ammo and an insult to his marksmanship. But trained fighters always dropped prone or sought cover when they heard gunshots. It was the best way to minimize your profile while you figured out where your enemy was. Aiming at the wall where he figured the enemy was most likely to be, he squeezed off two shots and immediately charged through the debris.
He didn't catch a bullet the moment he came out of the storefront, which was good. An amateur would have zeroed in on his location and probably blazed away right back. As it was he had a precious second before his quarry would reorient on his location, and he intended to make the most of it. Three steps out the door he threw himself prone just as someone popped around the side of a photo booth. They shot twice, one bullet whipping just over his head. Now he could give himself covering fire. Blazing away at the photo booth, he got back to his feet and scrambled away. In no time at all he was behind a heavy potted plant. Katya's slide was locked back as he skidded into cover, and his hands shook with delighted adrenaline as he slapped a fresh mag home. This is great. My heart's racing.
He knew exactly where the enemy was... but if his covering fire had worked as intended they would have been too busy ducking back to track his movements. Dropping prone, trying to remember everything between the pot and the booth, he rolled out from his cover, glaring down at his front sight, looking for his opponent.
He saw movement and fired again. There was a thwap and a scream. He had a glimpse of a skintight black suit before covering fire forced him back behind his plant. Legs coiled beneath him he tried to track the oncoming attacker based on sound, but the echoes were fucking with him and he wasn't sure....
A deep roar joined the barrage, a third gun was in the area. Popping up over his plant he saw the woman in the skintight black suit whirling to engage a man with anime-style hair. Bracing his arms on the edge of the pot Blaine grinned. The world narrowed to his front sight post as he settled it on the woman’s chest.
Two shots put her down, he sent a third into her for good measure. His focus swiveled to the man, who was fumbling with the cylinder of his revolver. He blanched as Blaine stood up from cover and tried to scramble away. Poor guy. Blaine followed, heel-to-toe, perfectly steady as he hammered bullets into center mass. His target crumpled.
He did another reload, taking his time to slot the half-empty mag rather than dropping it in his dump pouch, and came out again to scan the area. The catsuited girl’s lifeless eyes stared up at him, but it didn’t bother him. Blaine had seen real death often enough to know the difference. This was too clean, too tidy, the blood splattered exactly the way you’d expect it to. Not real. He let out a slow breath as relief flooded his body. This had been his first concern, that he might trigger or something… but it was just pixels and code. This he could do.
Now his training was kicking in once more. Silence, violence, silence. Time to get the fuck out of here before someone else tried to join the party. He ran down the corridor and decided that a shoe store was a better hiding place. This place looked just as rough as the jewelry store had been, but there was more evidence of looting here. Boxes were open and empty everywhere. Scrambling over a counter he flopped down, noticing absently that he wasn't panting as hard as he should have been. Endurance must scale more heavily by your load, he decided.
He reloaded his mags while he sat there, listening hard for more sounds. A gun battle raged on the other side of the mall. Echoes distorted the details, he wasn't sure how many were involved or how far away they might be. Well, there was nothing to be gained by pushing. Noise carried too far in this place. He was more likely to walk into an ambush than not.
Unfortunately the red wall had other ideas for him. He almost missed it, the faint humming sound only growing audible when it was within a few feet. Cursing aloud he scrambled up and over the counter. The entrance to the shoe store was already blocked. He was trapped.
The glass wall ahead of him might be breakable. He turned on his speed and ran at it, dropping his shoulder and tucking his head at the last moment. Wham. He bounced off, swore, and tried again with no better luck. His left shoulder burned with the impact, punishing him for his low endurance score already. Swearing again, Blaine considered. Noise was a very dangerous enemy anywhere, especially on this fucking map. Nothing for it. Better to be alive and inconvenienced than dead. Katya barked three times and the glass splintered into a spiderweb of cracks, shattering more spectacularly when he slammed his boot through.
He'd gotten out just in time, but his position was compromised. The heavy boots he'd spent so long picking out clomped as he dashed across the corridor. Three storefronts down a new corridor opened up and he skidded on the slick surface as he rounded it, eyes scanning for somewhere new to hide and regroup.
He didn't make it that far. Something hit him once in the chest and he felt his body ragdoll as he rolled across the ground.
Match over.
When the darkness withdrew he was back in a small lounge area just off the main lobby. The two people he'd killed were already there, sitting and watching the rest of the match play out over monitors. The girl in the catsuit gave him a short nod. "Not bad there," she said, thumbing shells into her magazines, "but you were lucky I didn't shoot through the glass myself."
Blaine shrugged, settling down and pulling out his own box of ammo. "Call it an educated guess."
"Hey now, I would have had you both!" the other man protested. His hair was cut like the boy-bands from Japan, all tufty and asymetrical. "I would have gotten you if he hadn't turned on me. I didn't think you'd both team up like that."
"Well, duh," the girl rolled her eyes. "You don't third party by running straight at us. You find cover, you line up your shots. You play like a console twitcher. In this game you win with shot placement and cover, not speed and dropshots."
"She's right," Blaine said before the guy could argue. "I shot at you because you were wide open. She was in cover, I took what I was given."
Frustrated, Anime Hair stood up and headed for the main lobby. "I'm not an endurance build, I'm speed! The whole point is to run, right? The endurance guys sit there to shoot."
"That's in squad play," the girl jabbed her magazine to emphasize her point. "When capturing objectives and flanking become important. Even then you don't want to shoot on the run. You'll just waste ammo."
"Whatever," Anime Hair stomped off.
"Dumbass," Catsuit muttered.
Blaine tuned her out, his eyes on the monitors. A four-way gun battle was currently raging in the food court. People were popping up out of cover, blazing wildly away, and dropping back to reload. No one had much in the way of spare ammo. Only one player was pacing himself, staying low and only taking clear shots. It was obvious who would win.
No point in sticking around now, he might as well head out. Rising, he headed out into the main hall and headed for the desk to reqeue.
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"Congratulations!" the receptionist cheered, doing an outdated dance behind her desk when he approached. Confused, he glanced around. No one behind him, what was she on about?
"You got two kills!" she clarified with a grin. "In Deathmatches, that's quite an achievement! Your prize money is already in your account. Good job!"
Intriguing. The next match could wait. Blaine plucked a pamphlet from her desk and peered at the payout table.
----------------------------------------
Competition money and you
Winning a Team Match = 2000c
Winning a Death Match = 10,000c
Ranked Match Kills = 100 x Battle Rank x Weapon Multiplier
Bronze x1, Silver x2, Gold x4, Platinum x6, Diamond x10, Tungsten x20
Explosives x1 Rifles x1, SMGs x1.25 Pistols x2 Melee x10
Casual Match Kills = 100 x Weapon Multiplier
Team Killing = -1000c and -10 Player Score
----------------------------------------
He did some quick mental math. This looked like a haul of 400c. Not bad at all. It easily covered his expenses for the day, with plenty left over to invest in upgrades. And with players as green as Anime Hair here at low ranks Blaine felt confident he'd be earning steady money.
Spoiling Katya didn't seem so out of reach.
"I need a knife," he muttered aloud as he considered his next purchases. It seemed any chance he might get to take someone down in melee would be worth it. Running another match was still tempting, but at this point he owed Katya a treat. The mall wasn't too far away. She seemed to really like the electrical tape, but some sort of acknowledgement was in order.
"Katya?" he patted the pistol as he headed towards the doors.
The weapon faded from her holster and reappeared beside him. She was smiling, green eyes merry and bright, her skin flushed with excitement. "That was really great!" she exclaimed as she tucked herself under his arm.
"It really was," Blaine pulled her close and shortened his steps for her sake. "This game is amazing. I can't imagine why more people aren't playing it."
"Well, you handled yourself better than most," she said proudly. "Most first-time players are a nervous wreck after their first match. Adrenaline and heart rates red-line, and the game ejects them for their own safety."
He snorted derisively. "Really?"
She nodded gravely. "But you... you were calm. Even when you were scrambling about, your nerves were steady. You're going to be great at this game I can tell."
Her words made him smile. "We'll see. But I couldn't do it alone, you were amazing too. Come on, let's get a drink."
Katya giggled. "Oh, I'm just the tool," she said as they crossed the street and turned towards a series of neon signs. "You're the hand that guides me."
"I aim with my eye," Blaine quoted, "And kill with my heart."
"That's a good one," she agreed as they passed a karaoke bar. Off-key warbling leaked out when someone exited, so he kept them moving. If he wanted to hear Elton John mangled he'd do it himself in the shower.
The next establishment was more interesting. Its grungy cyberpunk aesthetic oozed relaxed lounge atmosphere. He took her in and was gratified to find there wasn't a dance floor. People sat at small tables or lounged in booths, the music was throbbing and intense but also quiet. Katya's electrical tape fit right in with the neon hair and florescent tattoos on display. He even saw a couple of implants--fake arms and legs. One person had replaced their eyes. He glanced at Katya, and she anticipated his question. "Those are purely cosmetic. They don't give you any kind of advantage in the game. Some people like tattoos, some people like chrome."
"And some people just like good liquor," someone interrupted cheerfully. "What can I get for you two?"
Blaine looked up to see the bartender, a stocky but handsome man, his head shaved to show off cranial implants. He tossed a rag over his shoulder and leaned across the bar. "What can I get for you two?"
"I'll just have..." Blaine hesitated. "A sampler of craft beers for me, and something sweet for Katya?"
"You got it," the bartender said, laying out a sampler tray and producing a stack of glasses. "But first I'll have to see some IDs."
Blaine froze as his hand failed to find his wallet. Too late, he remembered he didn't have a wallet in-game, and certainly no ID to put in it. Katya and the bartender started laughing together. "I'm just messing with you," the man said, chuckling as he started hitting taps. "I do that to all the new Meisters. You guys fall for it every time."
Blaine shook his head ruefully and slid onto a stool. "It figures. I haven't been carded in a long time, but old habits. They did check my ID before they let me register the dive helmet, so I guess that carries over?"
"In this game? Yeah, can't log in unless your age checks out," the bartender began lining up the samples. "We've got every drink you can order, the only thing that changes from bar to bar is the aesthetic. Some people like to float around, most prefer a favorite. Humans need their habits I suppose. Makes it feel more real for everyone."
"Makes sense," Blaine watched the drinks pour. "I'm not a mixed drinks kind of guy. You know what you like, Katya?"
Her green eyes turned thoughtful as she scanned the bottles. "Ummm... actually, I've only had wine before."
"I would think you already knew everything you liked? Like... you could just jack in and sample a bit of everything." Now that he thought about it, how...
"Each gun has randomized preferences," Katya explained as she touched his thigh hesitantly. He shifted his leg to encourage the gesture and she gave him a loving squeeze. "Those aren't files we can read. We have to find out what we like just like humans, by trial and error. The experiences are good for us to build our personalities."
That made sense. "When I was a kid I mistook an olive for a grape. Ever since I've hated olives. Would that be something that would affect you?"
"Oh, I would never mistake an olive for a grape," she assured him. "I can still read and identify what objects are. I just don't know if I'd like them."
"What if I covered your eyes or something?" Now Blaine was really curious. He sipped the first beer in the sampler and grimaced. Way too hoppy. IPA people were weird. The bartender smirked at his reaction.
"That would... be interesting," Katya took her margarita and sipped it cautiously, her eyes brightening with pleasure. "Oh, I do like this!"
"We'll have to test it out sometime," Blaine could already imagine several ways he could play with a blindfolded Katya. "Your previous Meisters didn't buy you drinks?"
"One of them was a wine connoisseur," Katya licked a bit of salt from the edge of her cup. "I tried several wines. I couldn't really appreciate the subtle differences in some of them. But I know one of my batch sisters turned out to be a whiskey drinker. The sort who swirls the glass and talks about barrel aging. Me, I just like sweet fun."
"You are sweet fun," Blaine leaned in to kiss her briefly, tasting the tequila in her mouth.
She blushed, her fair skin turning pink. She stayed flushed as she worked her way through the margarita, talking a little faster and louder now as she explained some of the minutia of her artificial nature. Blaine let her ramble. Once she started using words like 'quantum' he knew he wasn't going to understand. He worked his way through a nice dark beer, reaching a nice buzz before too long. Which brought up another question. "So does this mean you can get drunk?" he asked when she paused for another sip.
“I can, if I choose to,” her smile was coquettish. “Alcohol loosens up the probability trees. When I am considering my options, alcohol tilts the balance towards choices that are more aggressive, more confident. I have alcohol tolerances appropriate for a woman of my size, so a few more of these and I will be very drunk." She gave him a wink. "None of the unpleasant side effects like hangovers. Mostly, ummm…” her teeth fretted her lower lip in a gesture he was growing to love, “well, it gets me sort of wound up...”
“Katya, I’ve never know you not to be wound up," Blaine chuckled, his fingers stroking over the back of her hand. "When was the last time you weren’t in the mood?”
“Oh, it doesn’t change that!” the blonde laughed softly. “But I get all hot and bothered like when you tease me. And if I don’t get some special time with my meister it can be a little frustrating to cool off again alone. So I don’t usually drink unless I’m confident you’re going to take me in a... manly fashion later.”
“I can promise you that,” Blaine said without hesitation, and it was odd how confident his tone was. He didn’t like making promises. They were usually traps–commitments people could hold over your head. But there was something in Katya’s eyes… her trust was a fragile thing, he remembered. She needed to hear him say it. She needed to see him do it. And she needed that experience, over and over again.
She was a good gun. And a good girl.
Tossing back the last of his drink he rose and took her by the hand. “Come on. Before you drink too many of those. We’ve got somewhere to be.”
Two ranked matches and three or four unranked later, he’d built his credit balance back up. He was now sitting comfortably with almost twenty kills to his credit, a Bronze Two ranking, and a greater appreciation of the game’s attention to detail. Damn, he was having a blast. Other platforms didn’t have weapon malfunctions and regular cleaning. He’d never literally curbstomped someone before. And Katya's special attention between matches? Absolutely heavenly.
“Before I log out I want to take you shopping,” he told Katya as they exited the competition center, the warm glow of neon signs washing over them once more. “You did so well today. I want to give you a proper reward. We’ve got about five thousand credits in the account, let’s find you something scandalous to wear.”
"Ooo scandalous?" her green eyes sparkled up at him as she loosened her high ponytail and let her hair down again.
"Something that shows I value you," he said. "I like showing off my treasures."
Katya's giggle was mischivous. "Oh Meister... you do know how to spoil your girl."
When they got to the used apparel shop though, she separated from him and darted straight to the lingerie section. Blaine felt his eyebrow rise. It seemed that their roles had been established already. She would decide how to dress for him, and he'd decide how she'd dress for everyone else... That was quite respectful of her. All right, Katya, let's see if I can't dress you. He didn't know much about women's fashion, so he started simple by swiping through the pants first. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing... oh, tiger-stripe, my favorite camo. He found himself grinning as he imagined Katya's slender body in them. Add some sleek black boots... fingerless gloves... and on the next rack, a cheap black tank top. He tossed a tiger-stripe patrol cap onto the pile for good measure. It wasn't fancy, but it was good working clothes and once he found his own tiger-stripes she'd match him.
Satisfied with these casual selections he went another rack over in search of formal wear. In his short time he’d seen almost no evidence of higher society, no balls or galas or ballets, but he didn’t want to be caught unprepared. His eyes scanned over the racks. A pine-green dress caught his eye right away. It sparkled with silver threads woven into the fabric and when he pulled it from the rack he saw the plunging neckline and grinned again. Very elegant, and undeniably sexy. He added it to the pile, snagged some Grecian-style sandals, and looked around.
A quick peek told him Katya was piling up the lacy unmentionables like she was stocking a boutique. Blaine sighed. He 'd better cut this short before they went over budget, he still needed to find a knife too. He whistled softly and Katya's head shot around. She broke off her shopping at once and came trotting up to meet him at the counter, plopping her haul down proudly. The clerk was a bland, professional NPC. If he had the same programming as Katya or the bartender he hid it well. The soft mint-green bra he picked up made Blaine smile. He'd had the same idea, bringing out the color of her eyes with color.
The next items from her pile were a bit more exotic… this garment didn't seem functional. At all. He peered at it. “Is it… which way up does it go?”
“That’s where the head is supposed to be,” Katya giggled as she took the garment and flipped it around. She held it up to herself, showing off the web of black straps and crisscrossing ribbons that would barely conceal her curves. “See? All strappy? It reminds me of your electrical tape.”
It was kinky, Blaine thought. If she liked straps she probably liked cuffs… He shoke his head to refocus on the next item. This seemed incongruous, a simple white apron. “What is this supposed to go with?”
“It goes with me, of course,” Katya purred, leaning into him. Her fingers lightly clawed at his chest as her breath tickled his ear. “I can’t imagine I’d need anything else do you?”
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned as he got it.
“I can cook for you," she teased, pressing her leg against his. "Clean up the house while you're offline. Every Meister needs a maid to take care of things when he's gone..." she turned around and leaned back against his chest. "Don't you think it would be appropriate?"
Blaine's brain short-circuited. All he could think of was finding her bent over a task, wearing nothing but that apron, that pretty ass just begging for her Meister's attention. His blood roared in his ears and he shoved the rest of the items at the clerk without hesitation. While the total climbed and his wallet wept, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her head back. Her eyes widened, but then her lips parted eagerly as he leaned down to kiss her from above. Her back arched, her ass pressing back into his hips, and she eagerly returned the kiss, her fingers rising to clutch at his face. The cashier said something, a rather large number, and Blaine let go of Katya’s hair to slap his palm on the transaction terminal. She was moaning into the kiss, devouring him with a frantic energy that he’d learned to expect from the anxious blonde. He couldn't betray that. He broke their kiss at last, leaving her panting, her eyes glazed with lust.
"Come on," he muttered, scooping up their bags. "Let's get you dressed before I take you back to the hotel. There's changing rooms back there I think."
She tried to pout at him but it dissolved into a giggle. Snatching the bag from his hand she scampered off towards the changing rooms. He followed, settling down on a chair. The wait stretched just long enough for him to start second-guessing himself. Would she like his selections? They were pretty basic... he ran his hand through his hair, frowning. It wasn't like there was a lot to choose from in a secondhand shop. He found himself rehearsing excuses for why he hadn't done well enough for her. Next time they'd go to a more expensive place. They'd take more time. He'd have a bigger budget. He'd do better.
The door clicked open and when Katya stepped out Blaine forgot every excuse or worry.
She’d put on the tiger-stripe fatigues and boots as he'd expected but the tank top... well, there wasn't much left of it. She'd torn away the lower half, leaving just enough to cover her nipples. The soft curve of her underboobs were on full display. With a little creativity she'd taken a simple utilitarian garment and made it outrageously provocative.
The tank top was so distracting that he almost missed the high-rise thong that rose from the waistband of the pants, arching over her hips and disappearing in the back in a classic Whale Tail. Sexy as fuck. Fire kindled in his chest, a faint growl rumbling in his throat as he drank her in.
Katya spun slowly about, raising her arms to ruffle her hair and tease him with the tank lifting just a bit further. She cocked her hip and gave him a sultry, knowing look. But when words failed him her confidence faltered. Her smile dimmed, and she quickly averted her gaze.
"I'm sorry if you don't like it," she said hastily, hands rising to cover herself. "The electric tape gave me the idea, I can change though if you..."
"Katya. Stop."
She blinked in suprise, her apology cut short. He joined her in two long strides, turning her by her shoulder to face the mirror. Her green eyes met his in the glass, wide and nervous as he pulled her close to him where she belonged. "You look amazing," he said, the words a growl in his throat, and she went entirely still. His hands slid down her arms and skimmed her toned belly. Her breath caught as his thumb trailed just below the torn fabric.
"You did this for me, and I love it." he whispered into her ear.
She shivered, and reached behind to grab for him, her fingers desperate to feel him there. "Yes..."
"I love it," he continued. "It takes my breath away. My good girl, my Katya."
The tension melted out of her and she leaned back into him, unashamed of this lustful display. "Blaine..." she pleaded.
"I know," he let her go and picked up the bags. "We're skipping the blade shop and going back to the hotel."
She clutched at his hand, glowing with delight and anticipation.