*Bloosh!* "Ahhh! Feels so good!"
She came up from the water, which was crystal clear. Baring all in her revealing swimsuit, too, rivulets pouring down her frame, many forming full channels after being fed from the runoff of her dark, shiny hair.
She returned the glances of a couple who were watching her from the other side of the pool. They wanted her. Of course! They all did. She made sure of that, needlessly adjusting her bikini top before swimming forward with lazy sweeps of her arms. The couple couldn't believe their fortune. Really? their faces said. She just winked back at them, then dove below the water again.
She came up with a larger splash, using her anti-gravity to fully come out of the water, like a water nymph, a goddess of liquid, coated in a sheen of water and a little waterproof tanning oil. She floated toward them, setting down at the pool's edge, and flashed the largest smile she could.
"Let's get a drink," she said to the spellbound pair, bringing her hair around from behind her and making it into a tail that curled just below one of her breasts.
Blueberry wanted to kill her. Beautifully, in a way that would pay homage to the Yamataian's ability to captivate an audience. Encased in ice, maybe. It would match well with the woman's sun-kissed skin.
The Neko, clad in a violet one-piece that did its best to be conservative, was hiding from the sun. A large parasol hung over her lounge chair, and big sunglasses hid her eyes from the light and from prying people. A pure white towel covered her legs, and her hands clutched her poetry book. Her hair was in a thick bun on the left side of her head, just behind her ear. It wasn't a perfect bun; it dripped deep blue in a few places.
She wore violent red lipstick. Always lipstick; chapped lips would never do.
This was Malifar, at the Sofitel hotel in the northern portion of the city. It was just off the water, providing from the pool (and most of the rooms) a panoramic view of the Sea of Melami, which today had no storms hanging over it. A pristine tan beach was perhaps 100 meters away, and it stretched in either direction for nearly a hundred kilometers. It was a cool 26 degrees.
The source of her murderous feelings? She was on leave, on the Star Army's dime, and was as far away as she could get from Kyoto. She was relaxing, reading and rhyming in her head. Why was she upset?
She was alone. Her hotel room was empty. Like her life.
Blueberry sighed and tried to focus on her book. It was Nepleslian poetry, written by a man for another man. It wasn't steamy. Heartbreaking was a more apt word; the author's feelings were unrequited, and he was marching off to war to rid himself of his emotions, to become a man hardened to his own heart. However, the man of his affection was posted to a cooperative unit, and things only spiraled from there.
She snapped the book shut. It wasn't working. The ocean breeze with its salty air threatened her with sleep. Without another outlet to channel her emotions through, she backed down from Mother Nature and let herself slumber.
She came up from the water, which was crystal clear. Baring all in her revealing swimsuit, too, rivulets pouring down her frame, many forming full channels after being fed from the runoff of her dark, shiny hair.
She returned the glances of a couple who were watching her from the other side of the pool. They wanted her. Of course! They all did. She made sure of that, needlessly adjusting her bikini top before swimming forward with lazy sweeps of her arms. The couple couldn't believe their fortune. Really? their faces said. She just winked back at them, then dove below the water again.
She came up with a larger splash, using her anti-gravity to fully come out of the water, like a water nymph, a goddess of liquid, coated in a sheen of water and a little waterproof tanning oil. She floated toward them, setting down at the pool's edge, and flashed the largest smile she could.
"Let's get a drink," she said to the spellbound pair, bringing her hair around from behind her and making it into a tail that curled just below one of her breasts.
Blueberry wanted to kill her. Beautifully, in a way that would pay homage to the Yamataian's ability to captivate an audience. Encased in ice, maybe. It would match well with the woman's sun-kissed skin.
The Neko, clad in a violet one-piece that did its best to be conservative, was hiding from the sun. A large parasol hung over her lounge chair, and big sunglasses hid her eyes from the light and from prying people. A pure white towel covered her legs, and her hands clutched her poetry book. Her hair was in a thick bun on the left side of her head, just behind her ear. It wasn't a perfect bun; it dripped deep blue in a few places.
She wore violent red lipstick. Always lipstick; chapped lips would never do.
This was Malifar, at the Sofitel hotel in the northern portion of the city. It was just off the water, providing from the pool (and most of the rooms) a panoramic view of the Sea of Melami, which today had no storms hanging over it. A pristine tan beach was perhaps 100 meters away, and it stretched in either direction for nearly a hundred kilometers. It was a cool 26 degrees.
The source of her murderous feelings? She was on leave, on the Star Army's dime, and was as far away as she could get from Kyoto. She was relaxing, reading and rhyming in her head. Why was she upset?
She was alone. Her hotel room was empty. Like her life.
Blueberry sighed and tried to focus on her book. It was Nepleslian poetry, written by a man for another man. It wasn't steamy. Heartbreaking was a more apt word; the author's feelings were unrequited, and he was marching off to war to rid himself of his emotions, to become a man hardened to his own heart. However, the man of his affection was posted to a cooperative unit, and things only spiraled from there.
She snapped the book shut. It wasn't working. The ocean breeze with its salty air threatened her with sleep. Without another outlet to channel her emotions through, she backed down from Mother Nature and let herself slumber.
