The midday sun bares down on the cobbled plaza of the Alchemist Guild as Vuvi adjusts her goggles and flips her notebook open with a dramatic flair. Pip stands polished and gleaming on the presentation platform, surrounded by curious murmurs from judges and onlookers alike.
Three guild judges, an elderly gnome, a bored-looking elf, and a keen-eyed dryad woman with a clipboard, circle Pip like lions around an exotic bird.
"What's the primary power source?" the gnome asks, brows raised while tapping her monocle.
"I'm afraid that's proprietary information." Vuvi replies, crossing her arms tight against her chest.
"What's the function of this pelvic conduit?" the elf asks, brushing the end of her quill across Pip's hips as he trembles with a muffled beep.
"Servo housings." Vuvi replies, chin tilted with a hint of smugness.
"Can he really attend to multiple partners simultaneously?" the dwarven woman asks, more intrigued than skeptical.
Vuvi's eyes sparkle. "That, we would be happy to demonstrate."
Across the plaza, Raenly Mystbern scowls beside his elegant, chrome-inlaid pleasure chair. An elaborate piece of machinery with gold trim, aromatherapy channels, and far too many gears.
He hisses as the crowd around Pip grows thicker, one of the male judges, a tall human with a pinched face, scratches his head. "Well, this all sounds great, but we'll need a practical demonstration. Some kind of test."
"I'll do it!" exclaims the drow judge, her eyes lighting up.
"Absolutely not," snaps the dryad judge beside her. "I called it first!"
The two women lock eyes, green sparks arching from the drow's while thorny branches sprout from the dryad's arms.
"Oh please, my endurance is literally double yours," the drow says, already stepping forward.
"You nearly fainted during the wind-element rune trial last month!"
"I was drunk, Dagna!"
Vuvi raises her hands. "Ladies! Ladies. Good news. He can handle both of you. At once."
They blink. Look at each other. Then giggle.
"An acceptable compromise." Thr drow says, cheeks pink.
"And a more thorough trial." The dryad adds.
From the corner, Raenly gasps like he'd been shot. "What? How is that allowed?!"
The two judges take Pip gently by each arm and lead him toward the secluded evaluation tent. Vuvi waves, calling out, "Don't overdo it, Pip! No fainting! We need them fully conscious!"
Pip gives a soft, reassuring beep of affirmation.
Twenty minutes later, the tent flap opens. and the drow and dwarve emerge, straightening their robes and trying to act as if nothing had happened, betrayed instead by the slight wobble in their knees and their dreamy, half-dazed smiles.
They return to the judges' bench, leaning into their fellow evaluators and whispering with enthusiasm.
Giggles turn into gasps. Then hand gestures. Wild, animated hand gestures.
The elf judge's eyes widen. "That big?"
The gnome chokes on her tea. "And it vibrates?!"
They huddle for barely a minute before returning to the platform.
The gnome clears her throat while failing to hide her grin entirely. "In consideration of technical achievement, craftsmanship, and… overwhelmingresults, the Alchemist Guild awards Vuvela Blackthorn's construct, The Pleasure Prince, a perfect score of 10 out of 10."
Cheers erupt across the crowd and from behind his pleasure chair, Raenly stares at the results horror. Then slowly turns to see the number posted beside his invention.
8.1
"Nooooooo!" He screams into the sky as he drops to his knees. "How!? How does that wench keep doing this! I curse your name, Vuvela Blackthorn!"
Mysa kneels beside him. "You tried your best, brother. I enjoyed your chair quite lot."
"I know." He sniffles. "Doesn't help me beat her."
"Though," she glances at Pip, biting her lip. "Could you actually make something like that? I'm curious. For, you know… research."
He looks at her, eyes wide with betrayal. "You promised not to touch it!"
"I never promised," she says sweetly. "You know I can't promise that. Constructs are. my thing."
Raenly howls louder.
Vuvi saunters up from across the plaza with Penelo and Veena flanking her like smug body guards.
Vuvi waves her perfect 10 scorecard in front of Raenly's tear-stained face. "Looks like I made you cry, Mystbern. Again"
He growls something incoherent into the dirt, ears dropped flat on his head.
"By the way," Veena adds, flashing a crude hand gesture. "Nice chair. Looks like a glorified cheese slicer."
Vuvi struts off radiating smug pride, Penelo right behind her, mimicking the red head, pointing and giggling at the cat-kin crumpled beside his invention.
Pip bows politely as he passes, before Mysa's eyes meet his gaze. She slowly runs her tongue across her fangs and mouths wordlessly, I'm going to find you.
Pip beeps in distress and scurries behind Vuvi, eye camera never leaving Mysa as she stares at him, her cats-eyes dripping with unbidden lust.
Raenly wipes his face, breathing heavily. His hands trembling. "We'll figure it out," he mutters. "We'll figure out everything. Even if I have to break into Blackthorns's lab and pick apart that golem bolt by bolt, I will find out how she cheated! It's the only thing that makes sense. She's cheating!"
"That's dangerous." Mysa mutters, arching a brow.
"You like danger." Raenly smiles sweetly.
She sighs dreamily, watching Pip's hip movements from afar. "Mmhm."
As the group prepares to leave the campus, the attention barely lets up. Students swarm them. Faculty members wave papers. Guild staff yell over each other.
"Can we study the construct's source code!?"
"Does it use soul fusion, golem binding, or celestial grafting!?"
"Will you publish the design?!"
"This should be made public domain! For the good of society!"
Vuvi backs up, stunned by the wall of voices. "I… I can't. I don't even know—"
Penelo tugs on her arm, trying to pull her away while Pip tries his best to beep loud and menacingly, shielding Vuvi with his body.
"Back up!" Veena barks, sparks erupting from her horns.
Maribelle, still nursing a flask of spiced tea, calmly tucks it into her belt, then lazily clicks her fingers.
BOOM~
A concussive soundwave bursts out across the crowd, rattling scrolls and silencing mouths. Every student, professor, and alchemist stumbles backward.
Maribelle steps forward, calm and terrifying. "Thank you for your enthusiasm," she says smoothly. "But my daughter and her team have somewhere to be, and would appreciate some privacy."
Nobody dares argue.
She turns, motions with a single finger, and the group follows her like ducklings.
As they round a quiet stone corner, Penelo exhales. "Did we always attract this much attention?"
"I have a feeling things are only getting started." Veena replies, hands settling into her pockets.
"You'd think the world had never seen a divine pleasure construct before." Vuvi groans.
"They haven't. Not like him." Maribelle snorts. Just as she says it, an ethereal voice echoes across the cobbled street.
"Lady Blackthorn!"
The team freezes. Down the road, marching like a religious parade, approaches a troop of armored knights, shields polished, church banners fluttering.
And at their head, Lihona, the Sixth SaintSister, glowing in the morning light like a holy flame, her transparent robes shimmering under the twin-suns.
"Oh no," Veena mutters.
"Oh gods," Vuvi sighs.
"Is she naked again?" Penelo giggles.
Maribelle arches a brow at the sight, smirking despite herself. "He made a church girl that devoted?"
Pip's eyes flicker as he beeps sheepishly.