Mission: Full Monte

[paradoxpanda]

I Dislike virtually everything in this place. That much is certain. For one thing it’s to hot, but that’s nothing compared to all the noise and commotion. Pandemonium does little to full encapsulate the great clamor which seemed to erupt from every passerby, open door and back ally at the slightest provocation. At all hours it seems the population is determined to strike against my eardrums with whatever annoyance it can muster. I dislike it. But my orders we clear, the form was properly filled and submitted. Report for active patrol of Serine City. Odd, given the intensity with which the local law enforcement went about maintaining some measure of order within the city of entertainment and debauchery. My presence was hardly needed. But the instructions had been clear, and so I departed two days prior to perform my duties.

For the most part, despite the literal noise, its been quiet as far as criminal activity goes. Though it may also have to do with my own hesitance to venture beyond the more public areas. Further aboard, I have little doubt that the criminal elements are more prevalent, and while I know I should follow my instincts, I choose to defer the matter to the local constabulary. The rotation still has five days left before I can return, having completed my assignment hopefully without incident. Perhaps even discover the reason why I was deployed here. Command must have a larger plan in mind, one that is lost on me.

My thoughts are interrupted, as is my walk down the brightly lit walkways, by a large man being defenestrated, expelled bodily through the glass of a tavern and landing virtually at my feet. Startled to say the least, my reflexes sprung into action several moments to late to stop me from falling on my tush. Raising up, I looked the man over. He was burnt slightly, a condition which certainly was a hazard to his health. The smell of smoke was thick on him. Turning my eyes into the building, I saw tha the establishment was either sporting an atmosphere befitting that of a war zone, or was very recently engaged in a major altercation. Scatted helter skelter we’re bodies of adult males, aging from 30 and up. All of them appeared to have suffered injuries. The only remaining individual was a young woman with a rather bemused expression on her face.

[puck]

Puck had a sneaking suspicion that people didn't like her.

Okay, so maybe the barmaid on her lap did. But that could be because Puck was currently lavishing the lucky girl with all the jewels she currently had, and the barmaid quite literally had stars in her eyes as she looked at Puck in adoration. Or...maybe that was because she was wearing star shaped sunglasses, and Puck was a bit too drunk to really care. This girl was sooo into her. Her eyes confirmed it, and that was that.

The person she had won them them form, however, was not as happy.

Nor were the other dozen or so people that had decided that gambling with the dark skinned woman was gonna be easy pickins. It was a common misconception, however, and it wasn't one that Puck tried to stop. It wasn't the first time she'd been in trouble for winning just a bit too much at cards or whatever other game the many places Serine City had to offer. This place was paradise for Puck, and while she was here her pockets were just overflowing with cash from her winnings at various casinos.

Then she'd give it to a charity of some kind. The last place was going to build a statue in her name. Really. It was a kitten orphanage, and as soon as Puck passed it, she knew she couldn't resist. Besides, what was she going to do with half a million beri? The kittens man, the kittens!! They needed it so much more!! So, donate it she did. Which left her with...maybe a hundred beri left. Just enough to go to a bar, play some games and get drunk...possibly take a woman of questionable nature to bed.

After spending some time with her brethren (the kittens really seemed to adore her) Puck was on her way to find a bar. Which didn't take long, really, as Serine City seemed to be filled to the brink and had a bar or an equivalent on every other corner. Puck passed a few that seemed stuffy, or didn't seem to fit her particular style of relaxing. But finally she found the kind of bar she usually frequented; shady, darker and full of the types of people Puck loved to see; the kind that would sooner stab you as look at you.

For Puck, these were the honest folk, the people that knew their place in the world and stayed there. They didn't lie about their intentions, and that part was obvious as soon as Puck walked in and was slapped solidly on the ass but a very drunk sailor of some sort. A quick jab to the jaw and he was out, but it really was no more then a love tap. The guy was sloshed enough as it was, but the shot sure did get a laugh from his companions, and that was the first of many free drinks Puck got as she started her night at the place called “The Sword's Last Stand”. Quaint.

When that crew left, Puck was left with the company of a few other shadier characters, and that was saying a lot, considering. A friendly game of cards was started, and more and more people joined as others quit. It wasn't lone before friendly laughs and bouts of laughter turned to growls of mutiny and anger. Who was this broad, winning every hand without even paying attention to the cards she had? The mumbles grew and the numbers swelled as the people Puck seemed to be playing against were all apart of the same crew, and one of the people she was winning against was their captain.

Solidly built and saltier then most, the captain was quite seething with rage as he stared upon the scene before him. The barmaid that was grinding into the dark skinned woman was the one he had his eye on as soon as he got in!! And the humiliation of losing to someone who had no respect for the game, or him!! He looked around the table and slammed his cards down as they did, watching knowingly as Puck threw her hands on the table; Royal Flush.

He instantly stood up, tossing the table over and sending it's contents scattering all over the floor. His crew all instantly took steps back, but the sounds of unsheathing swords could be heard as they all took their battle positions behind their captain. The burly man stared at Puck, who now seemed to have her attention fully on the captain, who pulled out a flintlock pistol and pointed them in between Puck's eyes.

“Any last words, lady?” he growled, clocking the pistol. “Cause yer about to see what cheatin' The Steel Fliers gets ya.”

From Puck's perspective, all the really noticed was how cold she felt now that the barmaid wasn't on her lap anymore. She had fled instantly as soon as the table was upturned, and it was a rather quick retreat as well. She pouted a bit as she stood up and scanned the area for her to no avail. Well, how inconvenient. Letting out a heavy sigh, the tomboy looked back at the captain and shrugged.

“Ara...” she purred, smiling a wicked smile. “The Captain made my barmaid disappear.”

---

So maybe it wasn't all that fair.

A dozen or so people against a lone woman. No, the odds were stacked against Puck and she knew it. Even with her training, the numbers were simply to great and the activation of a few explosions were all she needed to turn the tides. Her Devil Fruit worked effectively as it usually did, making a fight this disorganized a walk in the park. If they had been more organized, well...it would have been considerably tougher. But all they saw was red, and wolf packing her was possibly the worst idea they could have done.

The bar now was barley recognizable, and was far dirtier and more...burnt, then it was before. The bodies Puck had knocked about were all over and one, a scrawny fellow, was even hanging from the ceiling fan, something Puck found rather funny as she sat down on the only intact chair in the room. She looked around the bodies before spotting what she wanted and, from the body of the unconscious captain, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and took one out, snapping her fingers to make a smaller explosion and light up the square. From the corner of her eye she saw a crewman get up and blindly charge her, and another snap of her fingers sent him slightly charred through the window and into the populace outside.

“Ara...” Puck sighed, shaking her head. “What a workout...”

She didn't escape unscathed, and Puck knew her left shoulder was probably dislocated and she was going to be bruise heavy for about a week. Various cuts and slashes covered her body, and there was a small knife, about the size of a half a pinkie finger (that was most likely used for stabbing throats) stuck in her arm at an odd angle. She stared out of the window blankly as she continued to smoke her cigarette, wondering of the room she booked earlier at this establishment would still let her bunk there.

Probably not.

[paradoxpanda]

Deziree looked the scene over, the sudden void of noise in the aftermath of the defenestration providing her with a not unwelcomed opportunity to think. Given the economic distribution of the neighborhood, it was likely the property value of this establishment was at least 25 thousand beli, not counting in materials. Given that, estimating damages was enough to put this into a felony. As she did the math out, Deziree walked towards the bar door, gently pushing it open, only to have the hinges give out part way though as the door slid out of its frame and out of her grip. The scene inside was…bad. Adding onto the destruction of property charge, there was now a dozen or more counts of assault, possibly assault with intent to kill, though that was unclear. Had this been just a bar fight, she’d wouldn’t suddenly be shaking like a leaf. This was certainly more than she was used to, by leaps and bounds.

The woman herself was dark skinned, with golden eyes. She was somewhat injured, nothing that couldn’t be handled by some quick bandages and a trip to the doctors. Deziree only managed to look for a few seconds before diverting her gaze. This woman had defeated the entire patronage of the establishment, apparently on her own. She was clearly dangerous.

“Miss, please don’t move” She chirped, drawing her firearm. Arrest step one. Assess situation. Check. Step two, Issue verbal commands. “Place your hands up and d-drop your weapons if you have any at this time” Check. It occurred to her that she had no handcuffs. Secretarial workers weren’t issued them. Step 4, detain the subject was now a lot more difficult. “Shoot” She muttered under her breath, trying to think up something else she could use. Step 4 was very important. How else was she supposed to go to step 5?

"You are hearby under arrest for the Destruction of private property, one count, and assult of civilians 12 counts. Any action you take will be noted on your arrest record, so think carefully before you take any action" Dez stated, as firmly as she could manage. It sounded like a slightly less pathetic squeek than her previous statments.

[puck]

The soft, yet slightly demanding voice that pulled Puck from her staring contest with the wall belonged to someone that took Puck's breath away.

Okay, some might consider it odd that Puck was attracted to her father in some way, as most young girls are wont to do. After all, he was strong, a giant among men and smarter the anyone she’s ever meet before or after. But the only thing Puck took away from her attraction to her father was her fetish for Marines and Marine types. The tomboy could spot them a mile away and often panted for the few Marine women she'd met in her life. Well trained, strong and very able, the purplette, to this day, had not been able to snag and bed one. It was a sore spot for her pride, really, considering she'd drop whoever she was with in an instant. She like a woman in uniform, and as far as Puck was concerned she was doing rather well in the fetish department considering her past.

Her skin was soft, Puck could tell by just looking. This particular marine had never seen combat, or if she did it was so negligible that it was barley worth mentioning. She was prim, proper and looked wholly out of place in the dingy bar, now further wrecked by the fight Puck had endured. Her long, raven black hair was perfect, not a hair out of place and the glasses she wore made Puck's libido burn, adding to the almost Librarian-esque look this girl was sporting. Her outfit, Marine standard issue, Puck recognized, was pressed, clean and Puck could have sworn she could see her face on the cloth of this girl's pants.

She was a bookworm. Book smart. Puck could tell by how she was holding the pistol. This person was a lady, someone who shouldn't even be at a place like this. But far be it for Puck to judge; this woman was someone who clearly followed orders, and despite being leagues over her head had come here to bring Puck to justice. Her determination was in her eyes, and that was something Puck could respect. She just hoped that the burning somewhere south of her stomach wasn't all that clear in her eyes, as she knew her orbs changed to a darker, more golden color when aroused as intensely as she was now.

“Ara, so many commands...” Puck's voice trailed off as she finished her cigarette with her good hand and pulled out another. “But as my Little Butterfly can see, I am injured.” She made a half wave with her right hand to her dislocated left shoulder, the same shoulder that had the small knife embedded in it. “So unless she plans on helping me, I cannot put my hands on top of my head. And if she wishes to handcuff me, I only ask she buy me dinner first.”

Quick on the uptake she was, and Puck wasted no time in giving the Marine a lavish wink before she pursed her lips around the cigarette and reached to the small knife, pulling it out quickly and efficiently, sending a small spray of blood out before dribbling down to a small stream that rolled down her arm and began to drip at the elbow, as her hand was resting on her lap. She took a look at the knife and tossed it aside into the behind of one of the crew she had knocked unconscious before turning her molten gaze back to the cute marine.

“The name is Puck.” The purplette said, her voice soft yet strong. “I assume My Butterfly has one. Can she tell me? Or is it against regulations?”

[paradoxpanda]

In her basic training there had been numerous, repeated and detailed instructions for handling situations like this. After all, a marine who couldn’t arrest a criminal was no marine at all. And while the raven haired girl had no trouble remembering the orders and instructions that had been shouted at her, and the number of unkind comments directed at her by drill instructors, she had never actually preformed one successfully. It had never seemed of any urgent importance. Books don’t need arresting, paperwork has no hands to cuff. It was all she wanted to do, to file the logs and records in a small cubical out of the way, a tiny cog in the grand machine of Justice. And the only thing she’d been good at, so her priorities simply aligned to less hands on skills. The ignorance of youth is truly stunning. So many opportunities wasted.

And while Deziree was aware her normal vision was borderline handicapped without her glasses, having 20/20 hindsight did little to aid her. And since she had her spectacles resting on the bridge of her nose, she could see clearly the strange expressions that crossed her prisoners face. She followed the amber eyes as they traced up and down her body. It was a sensation that bordered on physical, like she could feel the woman pulling her apart with a glance. It made her ache to shiver, but Deziree suppressed the instinct, not wanting to appear vulnerable or unearned. A difficult prospect given that at present, those we’re about the only two emotions readily occupying her thoughts.

Rather than obey, the woman sighed, her voice disinterested and bemused as a complaint about the orders drifted lazily out of her lips along with a thin spire of smoke. A combination that evoked the presence of a cat toying with its supper, and from the perspective of the supper, it was a wholly unpleasant experience. Why was it that Dez, who was holding the weapon, felt at such a disadvantage? She gripped the weapon tighter, furrowing her brow into a snarl that bordered puppy like in its complete ineffectiveness.

The woman spoke, her vocal patterns completely going against rules of grammar, ignoring entirely the second person pronouns. It made Dez almost twitch each time ‘she’ was used in place of ‘you’. It was almost enough to make her miss the bulk of the woman’s statement. Injured as she was, she said that it was impossible for her to raise her arms. She claimed shoulder dislocation. Textbook diagrams and first aid instructions flashed to her consciousness. While not dangerous, leaving the joint out of alignment placed additional strain on the ligaments which could cause long term problems.

The statement which followed forced Dez to do a double take. An exchange of dinner for handcuffing? What was this woman trying to do? Bamboozle The young marine officer with gibberish. That, Dez concluded, or she was using some manner of linguistic dialect that Deziree had yet to be inducted into. The suggestion was followed by a prominent wink, which only enforced Desiree’s suspicions that this was some code.

When the strange Nubian woman reached into her clothing, Dez snapped back to focus, keeping her sights aligned as a knife was withdrawn, only relaxing when it was discarded, then scolding herself for remembering that it was vital she not relax. Returning her attention to Dez, or ‘My butterfly’ as she refered to the Pale skinned girl, The woman gave her name as Puck, And inqured if Deziree could do the same.

“Seamen Recruit Deziree Szabo of the North Blue Marine Division” Was the reply that the Little butterfly gave. It felt like a distirbinly accurate nomenclature for Dez, since she felt much like a mounted butterfly on a slide. It was the first thing she said with a solid and firm tone. Easy, since the response was Drilled into her behavior on the first day of service.

Deziree’s eyes flicked back to the door for a moment, and she felt a deep desire to just walk back through it. Anywhere was better than here as far as she was concerned. Or better yet, she wished back up from the local police force would arrive. When it failed to manifest, she returned her attention to Puck. Now, books would say that this was a trap. Deziree would have to move closer to inspect the injuries, and if she did, her guard would likely be down. Deziree knew this. She also knew that her very first duty was to the people. And despite all appearances….she had very little evidence of any wrongdoing on Pucks behalf. The fact that she knew she was going to go against the rules of behavior, and get within arms reach of a potentially dangerious woman, made her stomach turn over. Given it was currently lodged in her thought, the sensation was very prominent and as unpleasant as one would expect.

Holstering her weapon, Dez took a tentative step closer. When this failed to produce any immediate hostilitiy, she waited a moment, then took another. This process repeated itself for several long moments until the final step brought Dez within arms reach. She was startled to find she was actually looking down at the woman, who’d seemed far taller only moments before. “I am now going to attempt to reset your arm. It will be painful” She stated, mechanically. It turned out to be easier to cope if she Deziree let herself remain as detached as possible.

Taking a grib as the instructional logs indicated, Dez applied a sudden snap of pressure to the shoulder, till she felt it jolt back into place. Reflexivly, she winced, both because she disliked feeling the muscles and bones as they slid against one another, but also because now that she had repaired the injury, she was sure whatever counteract she’d fallen into was about to happen.

[puck]

Puck's immature side couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at the title of “Seamen Recruit”, but held it in check if only to keep the woman before her from looking even more serious. In all her time Puck couldn't remember someone as serious as the Marine that was approaching her, and for some odd reason it bothered her. She made no move to startle the approaching woman, who looked a bit spooked and only slightly worried, her shuffling steps an indication that she clearly did not trust Puck. This made the purplette feel slightly wounded but gave it no further thought as Deziree holstered her gun.

>>“I am now going to attempt to reset your arm. It will be painful.”

And painful it was, but for Puck it was heaven. She moaned, perhaps slightly louder then usual before she took quick action not that her arm was functional, if not a bit sore. Quicker then eye eye could follow, Puck grabbed Deziree by the back of her legs and pulled the Marine on top of her with only the slightest of squeaks. With Deziree now straddling the tomboy, Puck breathed a bit harder before latching her arms around the Marine and nuzzling her face into her chest.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Puck sighed, resting her head on Deziree's chest. “I thank whatever god is out there that My Butterfly saved me. These men...they were trying to harm me!! And they even chased the barmaid I was wooing away. That is a crime, yes? Chasing away potential nightly entertainment?”

Okay, so Puck wasn't that stupid. And maybe this was the wrong first move on someone who was clearly clueless about any such advances. But the temptation was just to great and Puck (who knew she could make a good plan when she wanted too) merely wanted to feel this woman close to her. She felt something inside of her stir, a little something she never felt before but quickly became to like the longer she held onto the raven haired Marine.

[paradoxpanda]

As expected, Puck let out a moan as the shoulder snapped back into position. Deziree was actually surprised at how strongly the woman reacted. Worrying that she had made a mistake, Deziree recalled that it was possible to pinch nerves within the shoulder, which would have amplified the agony of resetting may times over. “Im sorry” The Naive marine exclaimed “Don’t worry, I’ll Fix it. I just have to” What happened next what exactly what Deziree had expected, but still came completely by surprise.

Springing into a whirlwind of motion, Puck leapt up, entwining her limbs with Deziree’s, gripping tight as she wrapped her body over the stunned girl. Puck rested her head accost Deziree’s bosom, which was now heaving, the girl gasping for breath as she reeled in surprise. What’s more, she was now straining to keep balance. With her arms pinned to her sides and her hips entangled by Pucks legs, she couldn’t really move much to try and steady herself. She hardly could focus on the girls words, whatever she was saying. All she heard was the tone, closer to Purring than speaking. “G-Get Off! I’m Going To..We’re…Falling!”

With a thud, Deziree’s balance left her and she tumbled down onto the floor, flat on her back. With Puck now astride her, she was pinned. Again, regrets for all the grappling classes she’d failed to take welled up. All she could do was squirm a little this way and that, trying to slip free. Not knowing what else to do, she reached within herself and felt her power raising up. Her skin chromed over, metal replacing flesh and bone and cloth, leaving her and her uniform as solid as steel. It did nothing to free her, but it did help her feel more relaxed, now that she was virtually impervious to harm. Unlike other fields of combat, she’d at least had the foresight to work on manipulating her titanium form. Though she’d also never had to use it on a person. She was sure she could hurt Puck, but disliked the idea almost immeadiatly. While she hadn’t been paying attention at the time, she was able to now review what had been said by the purpling a moment prior.

She had spoken of being attacked by the men, of an as of yet unidentified female employee of the establishment who had fled. If this was the case, than these damages would fall in the preview of self defense. While the damages would have to be paid, she’d be free from any felony charges.

If it we’re true.

If not, this was likely another trick. Given how easily she’d already mislead Dez and gotten her pinned, The possibility of this being another trick didn’t go unnoted as she pondered her options. The barmaid could corroborate the story, if she could be found to give testimony. So that was the first step…no. Second step. The first step was to return to an upright positon.
“Please remove yourself from ontop of me.”

[puck]

The first thing Puck noticed from her fall from heaven was the lack of warmth.

Well, the fall jarred her, sure. But her face was still in those wonderful breasts, nuzzling away. This wasn't a normal action for her, but by GOD was it nice. This particular Marine was cool to the touch but somehow still warm enough to make Puck purr into those soft mounds with all the contentment of a cat laying out in the sun. So yeah...the fall startled her a bit, but her face was cushioned, and so the purplette didn't feel the need to open her eyes or stop the rumbling in the back of her throat that signified how happy she was.

And then she wasn't.

Warm, anyways. Or happy. Because the warmth was suddenly gone, and the soft skin was replaced with something hard and...metal? Puck's face shot up from between those glorious boobs and stared straight into...metal? Metal breasts? The though horrified Puck so much that she almost instantly stood up as if teleporting to the position, looking down upon the woman who used to be flesh and blood with a mixture of distaste and curiosity.

She wasn't sexist in any way, but Puck knew women well and preferred them a certain way. She'd been with countless women; skinny, fat, tall, short...midget. But metal? That was just cruel. Where was the softness? The warmth? The heaving and sweat that would cover her up during love making? And maybe it wasn't such a big deal, as the woman could obviously turn whatever happened to her off...but Puck's mind was still trying to catch up, and the stupid thing was taking it's sweet time in doing so.

“I...uhhh...” Puck stopped talking, forcing herself to do so by biting her tongue to the point of blood filling her mouth. “I am sorry.” she said, looking away.

She didn't know why she was so sorrow filled, but contact with Her Butterfly seemed to...spark something inside of her. She missed the warmth, but that was nothing new. Puck always missed the warmth of a woman when she left the bed they happened to be sharing. But out in the open, like this? Unheard of. Gritting her teeth, Puck looked off to the side and spat out the blood in her mouth before reaching down to Deziree, holding a hand to her.

“Forgiveness, My Butterfly.” she whispered. “Deziree's form startled me. But I am okay now. Please, stand. I did not mean for us to fall.”

Before she could even attempt to help Deziree to her feet, a cry came from the bartender, who was now standing up with a furious look on his face. He stalked from behind the bar and up to the dark skinned woman, poking her in the chest several times as he shouted obscenities. Puck blinked a few times before snatching the finger that was poking her and twisting it ever so slightly, sending the man to hie knees with a cry of pain. With a slightly confused look on her face, Puck looked to the Marine that was still on the floor (legs still slightly spread, much to Puck's perverted pleasure) with a questioning look.

“Ara...” Puck gave a meek smile. “What would my Deziree have me do?”

[paradoxpanda]

Deziree was not surprised to find that her transformation had startled Puck, thought the intensity of the reaction was an unforeseen factor. The girl withdrew almost as if she’d been burnt, Her chipper expression and sing song voice going flat and distant, withdrawn inwards. Her words had become doubt filled and, strangely, evoked a sense of sorrow. It was this last fact with perplexed Deziree greatly. Surprise was understandable, confusion was to be expected. But Sorrow, regret, a sensation of loss, these we’re anomalies. Her curiosity was peaked, though she remained focused on her job, which was now much easier, having regained the ability to stand.

Dez reached up to accept the woman’s offer, though snatched only air as the bartender appeared, shouting accusations. His face was red as a tomato and just as shiny. Deziree hated shouting, hated it more than anything. It made her want to crawl away and hide, the anger in his voice almost hitting her physically. Though not the subject of the verbal assault, she still was in the blast radius, and tried to take what shelter she could, closing her eyes, wincing with each hate filled syllable, almost feeling the jabs to the chest that we’re being delivered to Puck’s chest.

“Stop” She wimpered, to softly to hear over the cacophony. But her command seemed to carry more weight than she’d given it credit for, as there was a startled yelp. Opening her eyes, the man was now kneeling, his hand gripped in a lock, the joint of his finger twisted in a way that was only a few degree’s shy of snapping the joint like a twig. Raising up, Deziree brushed herself off, removing not only dirt, but her metallic sheen as she shifted back to her previous state. She had to stop herself from fixating on the smudges to her uniforms backside which had been delivered by whatever strange and sticky fluids stained the floor. It would take a dozen cycles through laundry and heavy scrubbing to get them clean.

Puck asked, rather off handedly, what should be done with the barkeeper. It was odd that she’d said Deziree’s name rather than again phrasing it as ‘my butterfly’. “Release him” She stated flatly. Perhaps the humbling he’d received would improve his disposition, or at least mitigate his fondness for expletives. “Sir, I require your name and occupation, as well as your account of the events which culminated in the altercation which has taken place here. Keep in mind your testimony will be kept on record, and you will be charged with obstruction of Justice should any falsehoods come to light.”

Dez’s words had the opposite effect on her as the shouting which the bartender had been engaged in. It was a verbatim recital of the exact phrase she was supposed to use, requiring no thought or participation on her part. The act of removing herself from the equation and the situation, the mental breathing room provided by the distance she’d created, did wonders to help ease the knot building in her gut.

The man replied, his voice filled with impotent anger, shooting glances back at Puck every few moments. He described how she’d arrived with barely any money, and proceeded to empty the coffers of several of the bars patrons. That she won with virtually no effort, and indeed, had been paying more attention to the bar maiden than the game. As far as he could tell, she was either the best card player he’d ever seen, or the best cheater. The other gentleman had been of the opinion that it was the latter, and the barman was rather inclined to agree with them. In conclusion, they assaulted her, and were promptly reduced to unconscious and burnt husks, detailing how she’d been able to conjure up fire at her whims.

Deziree mentally cataloged his story, so that she’d be able to properly reproduce it later on the official report. It did match up with the abridged version Puck had provided, though differed as to where exactly the blame fell. In the case of contradicting stories, protocol instructed that she take the accused party into custody until further evidence could be obtained. Deziree turned to Puck clearing her throat. “UntilI can determine which party is to blame, you will have to remain with me. If you attempt to escape, I will be forced to incapacitate you. Understand?”

The words we’re barely out of Dez’s lips when she wished she hadn’t said that. This Dark skinned woman was, frankly, strange. Her actions puzzled the Marine, defying all the things she was told to expect from an accused criminal. And now she’d denied herself the opportunity to be rid of the woman until this mess was sorted out. And considering how well the investigation had started that was going to be a very long time.

[puck]

Puck couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up for several reasons.

One, the metal (or whatever it was that covered Deziree's skin) was gone, leaving behind the snow white skin and appealing smell the Marine had about her. Puck insides were alight with joy, and she felt the heat return as her gaze smoldered over the woman's body. In truth, the little Marine was nothing remarkable in the body department (Puck had been around the block and had seen quite a few women, you see), but she was instantly intrigued at what Her Butterfly looked like underneath such clean and sparkly clothes.

>>“Until I can determine which party is to blame, you will have to remain with me. If you attempt to escape, I will be forced to incapacitate you. Understand?”

And two, she was not staying with Deziree until this whole mess could be sorted out!! Well, she was in her custody, but what did that matter? Puck's insides how flip flopped with joy and it was all she could do to keep from hopping back on the chair and doing a miniature wardance. This woman was different, that much was for sure, and Puck (who prided herself in her knowledge of all things woman) didn't know why. So instead of letting the frustration take over, Puck instead decided that there was nothing more important in her life at the moment then getting to know Deziree Szabo.

“Ara, of course...” Puck let out, her voice soft and light as she sidled up next to the Marine and waggled her eyebrows. “I assume My Butterfly will be wanting to handcuff me? I will accept such a punishment. Until she brings about the justice these men so richly deserve, I will be happy to be Deziree's prisoner. Would she like to frisk me beforehand? Just to make sure I have no way of escaping?”

Puck, although everything inside of her told her better, instantly took off her top, revealing nothing but a lacy (and rather racy) looking bra underneath. It was only one of her massive collection of lingerie, and it was also one of her favorites. She had worried that the battle with the men she had trounced would ruin it, but she was wrong and it was still intact. The explosions she had generated usually were not conductive to her clothes, but she was happy this particular piece was still okay.

The purplette noticed, rather belatedly, that Deziree (as well as the bartender and several other people that were now staring through the window that Puck had thrown the man through) were staring. Gawking even. Puck, who had a weakness somewhere around the vicinity of her heart for lingerie, smiled hugely. She always loved to discuss lingerie in any fashion, and often (when she remembered) had books of catalogs from which she ordered. And with such an audience, she couldn't help but take a pose, drawing yet even more attention to her half nakedness, nodding approvingly as she looked back to Deziree.

“I see Deziree approves of the style.” The tomboy nodded, her bright, white teeth practically sparkling in the dim light...somehow. ”This is good, it shows she has taste. The style is more summer, around mid year. It was custom fit for my size, of course. As Deziree can see, I am not that tall and I am rather light in the weight department. I have not grown in years, you see. Plus, the wiring is firm, and the material if of the best silk and...”

She prattled on for a moments before taking Deziree's hand and putting it on her own breast, having her feel the material before letting it go. She didn't pay any attention to her reaction and continued to talk about the lingerie for a minute or so before stopping and looking at Deziree, a slightly horrified look on her face before a hand came up to clasp over her mouth.

“Oh dear.” she breathed. “I haven't shown you the bottom half!! Here, let me show you...”

[paradoxpanda]

Deziree watched as Puck’s eyes seemed to suddenly become flooded with a warm illumination. The phrase ‘kid in a candy shop’ came to mind, except the entire demeanor of this woman was wrong. Yes, there was a youthful exuberance that could almost be felt as a tangible aura around her, but her expression was very much one of an adult, dilled with all manner of adult desires as she meandered over to Deziree. When the Purple eyebrows twitched, Dez had to momentarily suppress a giggle. A simple thing to find amusement in, but there it was none the less.

Puck submitted to being handcuffed, doing so without any resistance of hesitation. “No that’s not-“ Dez started to say, but Puck would have none of that as she continued on. If She didn’t know better, Deziree could have sworn that this woman was eager to have her hands restrained. Another puzzle added to the enigma which stood before her. “I’m sure that’s unnessi-“ Dez started, after Puck offered to be frisked. Her sentence ended as Dez lost all ability to control her jaw, which, lacking direction, contented itself with hanging limply. Her eyes also had communication with the higher functioning part’s of the Marines not inconsequential mind, and so now gazed ahead, unblinking, at the softly heaving mounts of flesh which jutted outwards in front of her.

The girth of the mummeries was certainly the most striking feature. Facts and statistics about measurement averages, body structures and lipid distributions all came to mind, but did little to accurately prepare for the sight of what could only be called an appreciably large pair of breasts. Resting gently in their lacework brassier, the tan skin perky and inviting. It was a stunning sight. Deziree had, of course, seen other women in a state of undress. But what had caught her by such surprise were two factors. First, given Pucks build, it was rare to see such bountiful globes. The second, was the speed at which she’d undressed. The social taboo’s invoked here we’re so ingrained into Deziree’s mind, social norms which had gone unquestioned for her entire life, that now she was unsure what to do. The result, was a total cognitive shut down.

The spark which bought her back was Puck’s insistence at having Deziree grope her bosom. While her intention’s may have been otherwise, from where Deziree stood, all she knew was that she now had the soft and malleable warmth of another womans chest in her hand. For a moment, she was indanger of having another mental seizure, shutting down as she tried to make some sense of the situation. One could almost hear the gearwork in her mind grinding as the motors tried to drive her train of throught. However, she rached a conclusion that this was, without a doubt, completely inacceptable.

Like she’d been gripping a hot stove, Dez pulled her hand back, retreating with such haste that she payed no mind to her fotting, tumbling backwords over a chair. Another in her situation might have transformed to back into metal, but Dez had no time to react, as her head smacked against the wooden table, before she slammed into the ground. Her hands flew to her now aching skull, as she bit her lip to avoid crying out. The room spun about her for a moment, her body curling into the fetal position. When the moment passed and the pain began to subside, she gingerly removed her grip on her throbbing head, feeling a new egg sized lump there, one still tender to the touch. Raising up, she turned towards Puck who seemed to have come upon the idea of stripping down even further.

“NO!” Dez shouted, her voice at once trembling with fear and anger. This…All of it, was simply so far out of hand that she had no frame of reference to act on. No rules, no regulations. Everything had gone wrong and she had reached the point beyond which there was no path to take. She needed to put her foot down. Her face was flushed, as she pointed her finger at Puck, waving it in time with her words, like a mother scolding a child “You will put your cloths back on This Instant Or I Will Charge you with public indecency. Why cant you just act More Normal?”

Crack! Dez blinked suddenly as the world before her doubled. Perplexed, she looked about, when she felt her glasses slip from her nose. The fall had damaged the frame, and it had given out now. Broken across the bridge of the nose, it tumbled to the floor, landing with another crack as the lenses popped out. Immediately, Dez felt dizzy. The bar was gone. In its place we’re vast shapes of blurred color, some moving, others indistinct. She stretched her arms out for something to grab onto. Moving towards the only shape she could see, she felt her hands alight on something. Something soft, warm, round, with a thin layer of cloth over it.

Pulling away, feeling about ready to drop dead from embarrassment at having groped Puck a second time in as many minutes, she fell to her knee’s, feeling around for her glasses, unable to see more than an inch in front of her nose. Her poor vision wasn’t helped by the tears which had started rolling down her face, further distorting her vision.

Surely she thought to herself, There is no marine in all the world as useless as I am

[puck]

Puck could honestly say she wasn't surprised when her little Marine stumbled back, falling down and hitting her head in what looked like to be a painful manner. She winced, stopping her busy hands from unbuttoning her pants in an effort to be frisked by Her Butterfly and instead blinking a few times. She jutted a lip out in a slight pout, knowing that any further stripping would be halted as Deziree seemed to come undone at the seems.

>>“You will put your cloths back on this instant or I will charge you with public indecency. Why cant you just act more normal?”

Puck's pout seemed to increase. Normal? She was about to respond, asking why would she want to be more normal when a small 'crack!' filled the silent area. The cute glasses her Marine had been wearing suddenly fell from the bridge of her cute button nose, falling to the floor and falling into several pieces. Puck, not knowing much about glasses, knew that couldn’t be good. And it really did depend on how bad the person's vision was.

She hummed a bit and looked up to Deziree, fully intent on asking her how badly she needed the glasses when the small hand of the attractive girl groped her breasts, this time actually squeezing a bit. Puck's smile grew wide, knowing that yes, this woman's vision must be terrible for her to have blindly grabbed like that. She knew that Deziree, from the short time she'd known her now, wouldn't willingly grope her. She was much to...stuffy. Yeah, that was the word.

“Ara...” Puck sighed as she dropped down and picked up the pieces of the broken glasses, which were nowhere near where Deziree was looking. “Is seems to me that My Butterfly needs help.”

The purplette put the glasses, or what was left of them, into her pocket (hoping the fragile glass wouldn't break) before crossing her arms. She was trying to decide what to do, because leaving her like this just wouldn't stand. She hated to see a damsel in distress. Yeah, she knew Her Marine would probably protest furiously at being thought of as such, but at the moment she needed help. And Puck wasn't heartless. Just...perverted.

“You gonna run now, cheater?” The bartender's voice broke Puck out of her thoughts. She tomboy looked up, narrowing her eyes slightly at the man, who stared right back. “She's helpless now, you know. Now you can get off scott free and not hafta pay shit.”

Puck shook her head. Such language and outlook on life. She really couldn't blame him. Working at a bar like this he probably saw the worst of humanity on a nightly basis, especially in a city such at this. Luckily, Deziree found someone that wouldn't take advantage of her situation. Anyone else would have either run or...well, Puck shuddered to think of it. That metal form was formidable, she knew, but if that's all she could do, it wouldn't stop someone with a creative or demented mind...

The tomboy shook her head as if to physically toss the thoughts from her mind. She was here, and she would be damned if anything was going to happen to Her Butterfly. Without thinking she bent down and scooped up the girl bridal style, marveling at how light she was before adjusting her weight and her stance. She knew that maybe this would be a blow to the Marine's pride, but...she rather liked holding the girl. Soft, supple and smelling of something like ink and paper, Puck decided that, come hell or high water, she would get to know Deziree inside and out.

Especially inside, if she could help it. Fufufu...

“So, does Deziree need me to escort her?” Puck said, trying to banish all forms of perversion or lust from her tone, if only to keep Deziree from leaping from her arms. “She needs to detain me, yes? Where should I go?”

[paradoxpanda]

Dez traced her hands over the floor, feeling the grain patter of the wood, the knots and textures of the aged flooring. But the one thing she didn’t feel was the cool metallic touch of her glasses as she groped about, shifting this way and that, only hoping to get lucky enough to find where they had fallen, her movements becoming increasingly frantic as the seconds ticked by. “No No No” She mumbled under her breath “Where’d they go?”

Puck let out a rather bemused sigh, like someone who’d come home to find the water’s been left running, asking if Dez needed any help. The marine looked up (completely in the wrong direction), banging her head on the underside of a table in the process with an audible oomph! Her noggin certainly was taking a beating today. “No, I’ll be fine…” She stated. Dez didn’t even manage to convince herself that what she’d said was true. She needed them and she knew it, just as she knew she was helpless without them.

Suddenly, she felt strong arms grabbing her, lifting Dez’s body clear off the ground, and holding her close. She recognized the texture of the skin, and knew that Puck was now holding her like a child. It was at once a comforting and unnerving experience. The unnerving part was ease. Here she was, blind and at the mercy of anyone who came upon her. But at the same time, there was some small part of her that felt relief in knowing that she was being tended to by another. The ease at which she submitted was truly astounding. Not raising a peep of protest, she Gently leaning into Puck, for stability, or that’s what she told herself.

“To my hotel room. Its three blocks west and 6 blocks south from here” Dez answered, when questioned as to where they we’re going. “I have a spare set of eyeglasses. They should service till I can get my other set repaired.”