Description
{This is the fic I actually wanted to write. Let's see how far I manage to get.} (You’d think that given how I spend the majority of my time around corpses, my life would be a lot more boring…) Superior Commander Dairo Leon thought as he watched the odd duo being escorted to his Command Quarters. One of them looked like somebody took one of his Blackbirds and cranked her sexuality from about 9 up to like 12, and she knew it. The other was an absolute titan that walked like the body they were in didn’t belong to them. (Well, that just won’t do. I’ll just have to see how I can help that poor person.) He buzzes them in. (Good Lord… that 12 looks a lot more serious up close…) Leon thinks as he tries to maintain his professional composure in the face of the newcomer. Which, luckily, is a lot easier with Raven and Magpie standing by, not to mention the unfortunate giant scrutinizing him. “Why, hello there! I’m Mihara. It’s a pleasure meeting you, Grave Commander!” The breathtaking woman greets with a smile brilliant and warm enough to distract from the general heat her presence causes. (God damnit, she looks like she might be beautiful on the inside, too...) She extends a hand and bends forward to make certain there’s no chance the grim-looking man can avoid getting an eyeful of Syuen’s masterpiece. “Hello. I’m Commander Leon. You can call me either or both.” The man replies as he takes the offered hand and gives it a firm, but gentle shake before releasing it and assuming a formal parade rest. “Welcome to the Department of Funerary Affairs. Or as it’s more commonly known, the Recycling Center. How can I help you?” “Well. As is most likely quite often the case, we’re here for materials.” Mihara replies, keeping up that endearing smile and almost overwhelming sexual aura, while making a point not to reciprocate the Commander’s formality despite any element of their shared context. “All member companies of the Big 3 are sent materials as they are made available. We don’t do special requests here.” Commander Leon replies bluntly as he takes a seat, appalled that Missilis would further the desecration of their fallen than this place already does by treating it like some kind of store, and worse, doing it in so brazenly underhanded a manner. Appalled, but not surprised. “Oho? Are you sure about that?” Mihara asks in a tone at once coy and daring, meeting his movements by approaching his desk and placing her hands on it. “And what if this request is not for Missilis themselves, but at their request on behalf of another organization? Have you perhaps heard of Eden?” “What?” (Missilis is making a real, meaningful effort to help someone else? Eden is accepting help from the Ark? Have I slipped into an alternate dimension?) Leon thinks as his eyes race, trying to evade contact with the heaving bosom occupying a full third of his vision in order to preserve his brain’s functionality. Still failing to bridge connections anyway, he looks up to her shockingly innocent-looking face. “…What?” “I thought that might get your attention…” Mihara responds, keeping up that daring coyness. “You poor thing… spending all your time cooped up in this dreadful place… you must be terribly out of the loop on current events… Why don’t you show us to our temporary dorms, and we can fill you in? And then maybe… you can fill me in~!” “Coo-COO-COOOO!” The titan suddenly shouts, breaking her partner’s spell over the man. “Okay, I am not dealing with that.” Leon declares, standing up suddenly, surprising Mihara with his display of certainty. “Ladies. Take her to the Retrofitting Lab and get her in a normal body, even if you have to piece one together on the spot.” “Wait! You can’t-!” Mihara says, an odd desperation slipping into her voice as she suddenly lunges at the tall person, clawing at the heart-shaped brooch holding her black cloak together. It comes off easily in her hand. “W-what…” “I’m a firm believer in Castle Doctrine here, Miss Mihara…” Superior Commander Leon says as he approaches the Over-Spec Nikke from behind and grabs the black choker she’s wearing from the back, detaching it and tossing it aside. “...this is my castle, and the doctrine here is that I decide who lives or dies, and when.”
ThePornDude
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