Fell Champions

Sami was quiet. And not her usual kind of quiet. The kind of quiet that communicated very loudly that she was angry. Otter had been on the receiving end of that quiet more than once, but the majority of the time, it had been directed at Il-Su.

Today was no exception. She sat on her bench, her back straight and her hands in her lap, the perfect show of control, but Otter knew the signs. Sami wasn’t happy that Il-Su hadn’t been taken out immediately in the arena. That two more were dead at his hands, their greyed out names now turned to black before disappearing from the Online list entirely, destined to be forgotten.

Part of Otter wanted to crack a joke, talk about how bad they were at the game. That they probably would’ve eventually stood in fire until they died even if Il-Su hadn’t killed them, that their time in this world was destined to be short. 

It was her coping mechanism. Always had been, and the death game hadn’t lessened that any. If anything, it’d probably spurred her on to make even more obnoxious jokes. But it didn’t feel appropriate right now.

So Otter just put her hand in Sami’s lap, taking one of her hands in her own, and held it. Sami didn’t look at her, still staring down at the arena, but gave a reassuring squeeze to communicate the message had been received. They were in this together. 

After Holt's departure, they'd picked Vex up. She'd been fine, healing within minutes, although she looked an absolute mess, covered in blood. Sami had tried to hammer her sword back into shape with minimal success, since she was out of Will after her fight with Il-Su, so Everett had tried to bend it back into shape as a temporary fix. It now leaned against one of the benches, easily within reach, but in no condition to be used in an actual fight. 

“I’m confused as to what this Holt character gets out of all of this,” Kir said, gesturing to the arena. 

Rua had been explaining to her what she knew of the situation, with Everett expanding on information where necessary. Telling her about the game, the few rules there were, how the hundred original players hadn’t expected to actually be able to die, how they’d thought they were in a simulation and were instead in another world entirely. 

Most of it Kir already knew, but she’d gotten that information out of Il-Su, which had been coloured both by his own biases, and his inability to communicate anything without every word being dragged from him.

“Maybe he’s just a sadist?” Otter offered.

“No, that doesn’t make sense. You said this man built a merchant empire, yes? And that his actions would cause it to crumble? Why undo his life’s work, just for some quick thrills? It makes no sense.”

“Yeah, but he's really dumb.”

“That man is not dumb,” Kir said fiercely. “He figured out how to beat my Pact easily. And what’s more, he had knowledge of it beforehand. He’s a scholar, one who has read up on the Dreamers extensively. It’s a rare knowledge field.”

“What, you guys don’t have priests? No one studies your gods?”

Kir made a noise, and Rua glared at Otter. Oh. Right. People were weird about the g-word in these parts. Not that Otter blamed them. She kept meaning to ask about it, but given the reaction she kept getting met with, decided it might be better to just not talk about it.

“Most people don’t have a group of… priests…” Kir shuddered after saying the word, “...who make a habit of studying the Dreamers. They are unknowable. The Criobani have their Clerics, who study Pacts for use in war, and the Nguarians have their Magi, but those are so wrapped up in mysticism that we don’t know what they do. There’s the odd philosopher who’s made a study, and laid out theories, but most are sensible not to think too hard on the subject.”

“Why? Afraid of making a Mythwalker?”

“Yes,” Kir snapped. “Or of somehow empowering the Dreamers further. Bringing them into our world more. Possibly waking them. Dreamers are best left alone.”

“Says the person with a Pact. Ever think about asking for a refund back on it, by the way? Seems shitty.”

“One… one doesn’t barter with a Dreamer,” Kir sputtered.

“Why not? It’s literally called a ‘Pact.’ Implies both sides coming to an agreement. I’d renegotiate the deal, if I were you.”

“They’re vast, unknowable beings! We can’t go… making demands of them!”

“Unknowable, my entire ass. I’ve met mine a total of three times, and I can tell you, bitch is a cunt. And I didn’t need the other two meetings to tell you that. Although she did give me my good girl, so, there is that.”

Otter leaned into Rua, who gave a brief smile and rested her head on Otter’s shoulder. Kir got a look on her face, like she’d just bit into a piece of lemon when she’d been expecting something sweet, but tamped it down quickly. 

Huh. Someone was jealous.

“Don’t worry,” Otter said. “My lap is free, you can always lay your head there.”

“I’m not sucking your cock,” Kir said flatly.

Otter smiled brightly at that. Kir was still thinking about that facial she got. Otter couldn’t blame her. Seeing Rua feed cum to Kir easily made the top five hottest things Otter had ever seen in a long, varied, and very promiscuous sexual history. 

“I didn’t ask you to. But it’s nice to know it’s at the forefront of your mind.”

Kir rolled her eyes, so Otter patted her lap.

“I am not–”

“Wasn’t directed at you, sweetie. Rua, wanna sit on my lap while we watch this?”

Rua shot Kir a guilty look, but then hopped onto Otter’s lap, grinding that very nice ass of hers in just the right way. She’d initially only asked this just to bug Kir, but now that Rua was in her lap, this was feeling exactly like what she needed. 

Of course, Rua didn’t exactly smell great. Not terribly, but her clothes were in need of a good wash. 

“Poor Kir hasn’t been taking care of you, has she? When we get you home, we’ll get you a nice bath, and some clean clothes. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Rua made a hum of agreement, accompanied by an irritated noise from Kir who couldn’t stop watching them. Otter ran her free hand along the bottom of Rua’s shirt, untucking it and then letting it roam slowly across those abs she loved so much. She gave a few soft kisses along Rua’s neck. Nothing too heated. Not nearly as raw as she wanted to. Just an affectionate reminder.

“Here? Really?” Kir demanded.

“It’s a tradition,” Otter said. “Every time we get called here. Besides, this isn’t nearly as bad as what happened last time. This is just some light touching.”

“And kissing.”

“She’s a prude,” Rua said. “Don’t mind her.”

“I am not a prude, Silayans are just sluts.”

That would’ve gotten Otter’s hackles up if it hadn’t been said with a more playful tone. It was banter, reflexive from the sounds of it. An exchange they’d had hundreds of times over. 

Otter let her hand roam a little bit higher, going the full length of Rua’s abdominal muscles, feeling at their edges, the definition. She wanted to dive lower. But that felt like going a little too far. 

“Well, if she’s not a prude,” Otter said, “then she must be jealous.”

Otter made sure her motions lifted Rua’s shirt upwards, exposing what she was doing. Kir was doing a very good attempt at pretending not to look at what was going on while simultaneously darting repeated glances before jerking her head away.

“I have nothing to be jealous of.”

“What do you think, Rua?” Otter hissed into her ear, loudly enough for Kir to hear. “Does she want to be on my lap, or does she wish you were on hers?”

“She’s a bottom,” Sami said, her voice distracted. She was still paying attention to Holt’s little tournament, barely paying them any mind. But Sami being Sami, she was both very good at reading people and was a very capable multitasker. “And very much has feelings for Rua. She wants to be in Rua’s lap, getting praise and touches from her.”

Otter pretended to be shocked. “Is this true? Do you want to hog up what little girlfriend time I have?”

“This is ridiculous. You can keep up with your… your… degeneracy as much as you’d like, just keep me out of it.”

“Did you hear that?” Otter said in mock dismay. “She thinks we’re degenerates, because we’re just two girls having a good time.”

“In public!”

“See what I mean?” Rua said. “Prude.”

“I know what you’re doing,” Kir said, her voice smaller than she probably intended it to sound. “It’s not going to work.”

Famous last words, Otter thought, but in a rare display of her brain filter actually working, didn’t give voice to them. 

Instead, she said, “Nah. As hot as you are, you’re like one of the last people I would want to have sex with.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, you give me ‘dead fish’ vibes. I bet you just let your partner make whatever attempt at pleasing you they can, don’t do anything to reciprocate, and then are shocked the sex sucked. Not your fault, really. Happens to a lot of hot women. They’re so used to partners throwing themselves at them that they never have to work at pleasing anyone, so the sex is always lackluster at best.”

Kir looked halfway between angry and scandalized, casting looks everywhere for someone to support her. Vex was sitting a few seats away, very busily pretending to not be hearing any of what was being said, and Everett was making a very serious attempt at trying to maintain a straight face despite desperately wanting to laugh.

“How many orgasms have you given this woman?” Otter asked Rua.

“Just the one.”

Kir made a strangled noise. “That’s private, and we didn’t do anything.”

“And how many has she given you?” Otter asked.

“None,” Rua said with a shrug. “It’s fine, I get that she’s scared.”

“I am not scared!”

Otter let her hand fall away from Rua’s abs, and then leaned over – made a little difficult by the fact she was still holding hands with Sami and had someone in her lap – and booped Kir on the nose.

“Boop. Your homework assignment, whether you choose to accept it or not, is to give Rua at least one orgasm for every one she gives you. So, when you get her back – and make no mistake, she is currently mine – you have to make up for the gift she’s given you.”

“Gift?” Kir choked, her cheeks turning a bright blue. 

“I’m being poetic. I don’t expect anything fancy. Honestly, Rua goes off like you wouldn’t believe. Just finger her for a few minutes, I’m sure she’ll cum for you, even with how clumsy of a job I’m sure you’d do.”

“I wouldn’t be clumsy,” Kir growled.

“Oh, so you would be a natural at fingering a woman? Excellent. Why don’t you demonstrate how good you are to the class?”

Kir made a few stammering noises, and Otter was about to let up, let Kir get some semblance of her pride back, give her a chance to back out. She was pretty sure Kir was at her limit, and only wanted to embarrass her a little bit. 

Rua had other ideas. She stood up from Otter’s lap, and began to tug at the waist of her pants, jerking them downwards and exposing herself.

“Well, you heard her,” Rua said. “Show us what you can do.”

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