The next couple of days were peaceful. Augusta, Plynx, and Thisbe had all given Svetlana space, the former two no doubt plotting while the latter was thinking things over. The main excitement was the fact that Mynx had ended up spending a fair bit of time around, having unlocked an interest in retro earth games. The games actually tended to keep her busy and peaceful, but if she was left unattended in the kitchen when she got hungry… well, the apartment still smelled a little of fish and horseradish.
Svetlana was trying to find an excuse to head out and escape the smell on her night off when her phone vibrated. Pulling it out of her pocket, while still lazing on the couch, she realised it was a text from Vivan, with an offer for a date. Svetlana sat up and replied happily that she’d love to.
She raced off to her room. She grabbed her black and purple dress, some long stockings, and what she thought were her cutest undergarments. Getting dressed didn’t take long, but then she was left with an issue at the second step: she had no idea how to actually apply makeup. Well, she had some idea (lipstick went on the lips, for instance), but no experience.
Of the three people in the apartment, she instantly ruled out Cartridge. The other new girl was only slightly more experienced than Svetlana.
Weighing the evidence for a moment, she also ruled out Mynx. She was fairly certain Issiod’rians didn’t wear makeup.
Which left O’tmyil, who… well, she didn’t wear makeup either, but she had robotic precision. She could probably figure it out. Svetlana stepped out of the bedroom to find her. The alien woman in question was out on the balcony, watching the bustle of the afternoon streets below.
“It’s funny how cars of the same colour tend to clump together,” she said as Svetlana stepped out. “I wonder, do they find it more comfortable to be around those with similar tastes, even if they don’t notice? Or is it the sentient mind finding patterns in random noise and not in fact a true clumping?”
“Uh… couldn’t tell you,” Svetlana replied, having not prepared for a philosophy discussion.
“The dress is cute,” the blue skinned woman said, without turning to look at Svetlana.
“Thank you,” Svetlana replied, feeling giddy about it. Compliments about her looks really felt so much more real now.
“And it has pockets. Good choice.”
“It has—oh! It does!” Svetlana said, sliding her hands into what she had taken for merely seams before. “I didn’t even know a dress could have pockets there.”
Svetlana grew distracted, checking the depth of the pockets for a moment, before remembering why she’d come out here.
“I was wondering if you could help me with my makeup?” she asked.
“Yes, I could… for a kiss,” O’tmyil replied.
“A kiss?”
“Miss Wong and Miss Campbell have both gotten kisses from you since you changed. I would like one as well,” the alien girl replied.
“Oh… sure. Yeah. You could have asked for one at any point.”
O’tmyil smiled and walked over. Her ice blue eyes were obviously not human this close, but the differences were fascinating rather than offputting. At least to Svetlana. O’tmyil’s pause reminded Svetlana she had more to do than admire the other woman’s eyes, though. She leaned in for the kiss, and felt the burst that came with kissing O’tmyil. The other woman wasn’t simply an AI which helped select the next heir to the galactic throne. She was also the AI of the ancient power armour meant to protect the emperors and empresses. As such, there was a certain level of permanent connection between her and Svetlana, as preparedness for when they were in battle. A connection that was almost overwhelming when they kissed.
“I will do your makeup now,” O’tmyil said after breaking the kiss.
Her face had dropped all signs of emotion so quickly Svetlana was wondering if she’d been reading too much into things before. There were times she thought she understood O’tmyil and times she felt like she had better odds figuring out the secrets of quantum mechanics. Did she love her or not? Was her concept of ‘love’ at all like a humans? She’d spent hours wondering about it before.
This time she just let out a sigh and accepted defeat. Instead she focused on trying to follow what O’tmyil did with her makeup. It wasn’t much, but what she did do was precise and efficiently targeted.
Once Svetlana was ready, O’tmyil switched to her portable mode: a small metallic disc that seemed almost like an oversized coin. It was still a surreal thing to see, and showed how advanced the technology that had made O’tmyil was.
Svetlana slipped her into her pocket, hoping Vivian wouldn’t mind (dormant) company on the date.
“You and Mynx will behave while I’m out, right Cartridge?” she asked as she pulled on her boots.
“I’ll behave, but I can’t really stop her from doing anything,” Cartridge called back. “She’s trained from birth as a warrior, while I have a yellow belt in karate that’s twelve years old now.”
“Promising behaviour!” Mynx added.
Svetlana stared over at her, before closing her eyes and shaking her head.
“Well, it’s definitely a promise you can keep,” she said, before giving a goodbye and heading out.
It was a short walk over to the restaurant on King William. When she arrived, Vivian was already waiting. Standing 6’5” she was always easy to spot, and was still clearly the taller of the two of them even with Svetlana’s platform boots. Vivian was dressed in a green blazer and black turtleneck and the confidently butch look made Svetlana’s heart race.
“That dress… You look stunning,” Vivian said as Svetlana walked over.
Svetlana found herself giggling at the compliment and playing with her hair. Vivian had known her since they were kids, at least as long as Cartridge did. Combining that with knowing how beautiful Vivian’s exes were, the compliment to her femininity left Svetlana short circuiting and overwhelmed.
“Oh oh. My compliments are finally working, are they,” Vivian said, leaning forward to match Svetlana’s eye level. “I suppose it makes sense now, that calling you beautiful would do more than calling you handsome ever did.”
A quiet squeak of delight escaped Svetlana. While she could manage aloof and confident around the other girls now, Vivian seemed still able to turn her to jelly. Based on the smirk on her face, she also seemed proud of that accomplishment.
Satisfied for now, though, Vivian led them inside, up to the second level restaurant. They were soon seated at a table beside the window, menus in hand. It was a German restaurant, and therefore meaty. Svetlana decided to slide for one of the lighter options, this being more of an early lunch for her with her sleep schedule. Vivian ordered the schnitzel platter, which Svetlana knew from experience dwarfed her choice. Which she wasn’t judging, with her height and build, Vivian needed protein. Svetlana would just have to pace herself to avoid sitting awkwardly with an empty plate.
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“So, how are the other girls taking things?” Vivian asked after the waitress left with their menus.
“Plynx and Augusta do not seem happy in the least,” Svetlana replied. “Thisbe and O’tmyil on the other hand… well, O’tmyil seems happy, if anything?”
Vivian gave a nod, understanding how hard O’tmyil was to read sometimes.
“Thisbe… we kissed? She seemed to like it?” Svetlana added.
“Well, I suppose that dashes my hopes that they’d get spooked and I’d have you all to myself,” Vivian replied with a smirk.
While she could tell it was being said playfully, Svetlana couldn’t ignore the guilt that washed over her. She bit her lip, trying to figure out what she could say. How she could apologise for the mess that was her romantic life. How a girl she’d had a crush on since high school had ended up juggled between everyone else.
“If the others are realising they like girls… how open are you to sharing?” Vivian asked.
Svetlana blinked, staring up at her. Sure, Vivian had stuck her tongue out and then laughed after saying it, but… that… had never crossed Svetlana’s mind. It was true, though, wasn’t it? It would be more fair for everyone if they were all open to pursue other romance. She wasn’t sure if that was how the imperial marriage system worked, but the old galactic empire had also collapsed three hundred years ago. If she was going to reclaim the abandoned title she could modernize things a little, right?
“I can’t decide for them, but… I’ve always felt a little guilty about all the attention. Good luck,” she said, picking up her glass of wine to offer a toast.
It was Vivan’s turn to stare at her with surprise. “You… I was joking, but…”
She raised her beer and clinked it against Svetlana’s wine. “To romance.”
“To romance,” Svetlana replied before taking a drink.
“Should you be drinking right now?” Vivian whispered.
“It’s 8pm,” Svetlana said, studying the tablecloth.
Vivian levelled her a flat stare. “When did you wake up?”
“5:30pm…” Svetlana muttered. “Listen, if I try to drink at the end of my day people give me weird looks. The night shift requires compromises.”
Vivian’s reply was cut off by their food arriving. They were both distracted by the meal for a bit, until the conversation drifted back to Svetlana’s earlier agreement on how the whole romantic mess could work in future. Neither of them had much previous experience with the functioning of polyamory, even if they’d both known the term. Vivian spent a fair bit of the time thinking, while Svetlana vented about her past stresses. Her feelings of unworthiness, which turned into rambling about how wonderful all her girlfriends were. How she still didn’t know how to process being so in love with all of them… well, all of them other than Augusta.
Vivian agreed that the French princess was clearly interested in Svetlana’s title more than Svetlana.
“I don’t really know what to do there,” she muttered, slowly waving her fork back and forth as she thought about it. “She’s intimidating and… passionate. She’s very willing to distract me with that.”
Svetlana proceeded to feel her cheeks turn incandescent as she realised what she’d just said out loud, and to Vivan no less.
“I’d noticed,” Vivian said flatly. “She’s not exactly subtle.”
“Oh…”
“Mhm. You’re adorable in the way you can lose track of the whole world when someone gets romantic with you, though. It’s—”
Whatever else Vivian was going to say was cut off by the window beside them shattering. A metallic sphere had slammed through it, hitting the table, before ricocheting off. The sphere exploded into a sticky green slime that pinned several other diners to the floor.
Svetlana hopped to her feet, spinning to see Kobaroic androids on the rooftop across from them. They were the main threat she had to fight off, from a rival state to Plynx’s people in the battle to rebuild the empire.
Svetlana let out a groan about them interrupting her date before pulling O’tmyil’s disc out of her pocket. She held the disc to her mouth and whispered her password into O’tmyil’s dormant form, which sparked a flash of blue light.
A split second later and Svetlana was clad in the imperial gear, although she noticed the white, black, and blue outfit had changed in tailoring. It emphasized her newly feminine form, which she had to admit to liking. A feeling of ‘you’re welcome’ hit her from O’tmyil, before the AI woman nudged her back into focus.
The Kobaroic androids were firing further slime grenades, fitting their goals of capturing O’tmyil as a prize. Svetlana leaped forward, her awareness and reaction time accelerated by O’tmyil’s support, allowing her to knock the grenades back at her assailants as she flew through the air.
She bounced off the wall of the building across the street, having aimed herself low to not end up in the middle of the explosion of green goo herself. Bouncing off, she landed back on the roof of the restaurant, to discover the rooftops of several buildings around were covered in robotic warriors. Most were armed for melee, rather than with the ensnaring grenades.
As such, they charged. Svetlana dodged and swerved between them, combining the improved awareness O’tmyil fed her mind, the years of karate lessons her father had insisted she take and the gymnastics training she’d talked him into also letting her take. Slipping into the confused mass of robots, she activated the energy field around her gloves and struck the weak points of the cheap and mass produced robotic soldiers.
The superior technology in O’tmyil and Svetlana’s own willingness to be unconventional with her fighting style allowed them to make quick work of any robots that got in melee range. Unfortunately, the ones with the slime bomb launchers had reloaded and decided that collateral damage was perfectly acceptable. As such they launched a barrage of their glue filled armaments. Svetlana tried her best to dodge, only to end up plastered by two shots at once, pinning her to the roof.
“This is a severely undignified first fight for me as a girl,” she groaned as she wiped her visor clean.
She struggled to pull herself out, and only managed to make it from pinned to prone by the time a new wave of melee robots arrived. She braced for a beating when a blade burst through the middle of one of the robots. As it collapsed, Svetlana found her heart racing at the sight of Plynx in battle armour.
“You-dear looked like you could use some help,” the alien princess said, before spinning and slicing another robot in half.
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