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The Gamer Chapter 1310 – Fusion Festival 17 – Lying in the Grass
🕑 Added 2022-10-22 20:15:24 +0000 UTCDespite having a direct, mental connection to her, enjoying the silence with Beatrice was hard. The passive maid was exactly that: passive. Her facial expression barely shifted, her mood was static, her voice monotone, and so the Gamer lacked all of the physical tells that would normally let him know that his date was enjoying herself.
Luckily, he and Beatrice went as far back as him and Scarlett. He had made her a year ago and not only had she manifested a lot of her own personality quirks in that time, she had also become someone John was capable of reading in the same little ways he read Nia. Much like Nia, she also had acquired some expressiveness. Hers only seemed to manifest when she was with him, though.
Right now, Beatrice was smiling softly. Attached to his arm, she still wore the same outfit as she had this morning. A white, loose and cropped shirt and a deep green, pleated skirt. A combination that worked quite nicely with the white-horned, green-eyed maid’s colour scheme.
Together, they walked through the Hudson Barrier. Weather that day was acceptable. A cloudy 18 degrees Celsius. For comfort, John had put on his suit jacket. A bit overdressed for the occasion, perhaps, but it was also the most comfortable clothing he owned.
Although the majority of the tourism activity was focused on the Guild Hall, many a visitor was exploring the Hudson Barrier as well. From what John could see and hear, this was for two reasons, often occurring in duality. For one, the Hudson Barrier was interesting because it was a ‘forced’ type three Abyssal city. There were a lot of empty houses and right next to them were the rapidly growing Abyssal districts. From an administrator’s view, it was a bit like watching patches of grass popping up all over an empty field and gradually expanding, some of them linking up, others remaining isolated. The second point was that a lot of people were, rather obviously, scanning for future homes. Moving to the Hudson Barrier was essentially free. All that was needed to be done for someone moving in was for them to fill out a form and they were swiftly given the property they wanted, within reason.
“How is the settlement help program coming along anyway?” John asked.
“Statement: before I answer, I will object to this line of questioning going too deep. I am supposed to distract you from work.”
“You’re supposed to have a fun date with me.”
“Same thing, different description.” Beatrice squeezed his arms. An action that felt heavenly not only for the proximity and the care imbued in it, but also because her decently sized breasts were pushed against him. “Master’s best dates are the ones where his women are the most entertained. Therefore, I will maximize distraction by enjoying myself the most.”
“That does make sense… but I am still curious.”
“Allocation of the funds of the settlement help program has been rising by an average of 20% on a monthly basis. This is a compounding increase. Total budget increase: 792%. This is dwarfed by our economic expansion and therefore no cause for concern. The Ministry of Finance recommends letting the program continue. Its effects will pay off for the expense in an estimated 25 years.”
“Quite the worthwhile investment, from a state perspective,” the Gamer said. As demanded, he turned his attention to other things. “When was the last time just you and I did something together?”
“61 days.”
“…Quite a bit.” John gave his date an apologetic stare. “I should take each of you out once a month.”
“Reminder: Last month was busy.”
“Still, I made time for most of the others since.”
“I appreciate your care, Master, bu-“
“Don’t call me Master on our date,” John corrected her softly. “This is our time. Call me something else.”
“…Chucklemuffin.”
The deadpan expression she said that with was what reduced John to an actual chucklemuffin. Giggling consistently, like a madman, he suddenly burst out again each time he moved his eyes to Beatrice and found her continuously staring. Then, when he had almost managed to calm down, she poured a fresh batch of gasoline on the fire.
“Giggle Gamer.”
It was only the second of a whole cascade of nicknames that his outwardly emotionless date threw at him. Eventually, John had to surrender and divert them into an unoccupied garden property. Parts of the Hudson Barrier, a year into its creation, were starting to look truly deserted. Now that Spring was rolling around, that process would accelerate.
Nothing for John to worry about, he wanted the new Hudson Barrier to be a borderline Solarpunk-looking city full of greenery. He may have made his seat in New York, but he would not emulate its depressingly concrete appearance. Why build with a primary focus on efficiency when magic opened so many avenues for aesthetics? A beautiful city was a healthy city.
Lying in the growing grass, he took a couple of deep, giggle-interrupted breaths. Beatrice stood bowed over him. Just her face was almost enough to make him laugh again. “Come here,” he demanded, putting his arms up.
Beatrice showed the hint of a smile. On top of him, her arms grabbed tightly onto him, just as his wrapped around her shoulders. For absolutely no reason other than impulse, the two of them rolled in the lawn for a little bit. Going left to right, they kept their embrace. John could actually hear giggles from where Beatrice pressed her head against his neck.
They stopped, practically in the same spot they had started. With one more squeeze, the Gamer let go of his passive maid. She repositioned herself, laid down at his side, head on his shoulder. With one hand, she tugged at the buttons of his shirt and jacket, to make sure they all sat properly. “Sorry for the grass spots,” he whispered to her.
“They are worth it,” Beatrice returned and pressed her full, pink lips on his cheek. The lasting gesture sent waves of tingling warmth out from where she touched him. His hairs stood on end, in the best way imaginable. “Mwah,” the sound was audible when she let go. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” John said. How many men in history could hear those three words from so many women over such short a time in earnest? How many could respond to all of them without a single lie being told? Probably none. At the size of his harem, he either was the first in history or it was so rare there were no records kept of it. “Sorry, I interrupted you?”
“Yes, you did.” There was silence after that statement. One of Beatrice’s fingers trailed over the swing of his jawbone. Up and down, repeatedly, like a metronome. John almost didn’t want to talk, for fear she would stop. If he had been a cat, he would have been purring right now.
“What did you want to say?” he ultimately managed to ask.
“Continuation: I appreciate your care, John, but I do not require much of your direct attention. I am content as one of many. My needs are limited. Albeit born from a mistake, I cherish my lack of strong emotions. My love for you is my strongest feeling by choice of fully indulging it. When I came to be, when I came into my own, you already had your harem. It is only logical that I appreciate being part of it.”
“Well, you did request this solo date,” John nodded. That was all the reassurance he needed to know she would ask when she wanted something. With the exception of unnecessarily table replacements, he would oblige.
“Affirmative,” Beatrice hummed, emotions breaking through her passive tone again. Warmth and love, basically nothing else. It was incredibly attractive to John that this woman only ever showed these positive emotions when it came to him. Similar went for negative emotions, which he also loved, even though he knew he probably shouldn’t. There was a special enjoyment in seeing her behave either way just for him.
It made John feel special and nothing John loved more than feeling special.
Except for her and about 20 other women.
John kissed her horns a couple of times. Devilish things, white, curved, smooth, large enough to work nicely as handles. Coming into contact with them sent a little bit of electricity through his lips. “Should we move?”
“Inconclusive. You must decide.”
John chuckled. “That reminds me of how you used to be.”
“Recollection: Incapable of decision making, still witty, still incredibly funny.”
“Still obnoxious, if you were to ask Metra.”
“Metra should not be asked about anything that does not fall under: 1. fighting 2. the joys of self-enslavement 3. anger management. This list is exhaustive.”
“What about ancient Akkadian history?”
“It is recommended to approach Momo instead. Metra will be a biased and highly inconsistent source.”
“…Touché.”
“Statement: Metra would not dislike me, were I not right all the time. She is better at insulting people than I am. Addendum: I usually do not need to insult people, they have plenty of flaws that can be pointed out neutrally.”
“And still make them self-conscious.”
“Affirmative.” Beatrice sounded pleased with herself. “Example: you lose sight of date plans easily.”
“To be fair, I had nothing booked for the two of us.” John did with her shoulder as he did with her jaw, his fingers brushing over the naked skin. “We can do what we want. We’re free.”
“I want to make memories with you,” Beatrice whispered. “Good ones, bad ones, ones where I can laugh, ones that make me want to cry.” The Gamer turned his head to her and saw Beatrice, more vulnerable than ever, smiling at him. “I want to feel more of the ways only you can make me feel, my love.”
“I’m not making you cry,” he responded, seriously.
“Then make me laugh.”
“Hmmm… There once was a man that sailed out to sea. A storm sank his vessel, but he miraculously escaped on a rowing boat. He made it to a deserted island, filled with fruit trees. He was halfway through his thankful prayer, when a bunch of tribal natives burst out of the woodwork. ‘Oh my God,’ he thought, ‘I am fucked!’ ‘No!’ a voice from heaven responded. ‘Grab the spear of the tribal leader and skewer him with it!’ The man obeyed and rushed forwards, grabbing the spear and stabbing the leader of the tribe. ‘A-and now?’ the man asked the voice, standing among the surprised natives. ‘Now you are fucked!’”
Beatrice blinked at him a couple of times. “Ehe…” it escaped her, then she started laughing. Whether it was the joke, how ridiculous the joke was, or the seriousness with which John had presented it hardly mattered. The cackles kept coming as Beatrice rolled onto her back to keep on laughing. It was neither particularly loud nor particularly beautiful. As a matter of fact, perhaps because she laughed so seldom, it had something of a witch.
That only made it more amusing to John, who couldn’t help himself but tune into the laughter of his beloved, passive maid. Next to each other, in the grass, they lay, slowly calming. Beatrice eventually rolled back onto his shoulder.
“Request: I do want to see what you planned for me.”
“Well, I guess we gotta get going then,” John groaned. Slowly, he rose, letting Beatrice get up before him. He patted her back, getting the grass off her. “It’s not that bad,” he told her. It was only April, so the grass hadn’t come in enough to really cause stains yet.
They were back on the road and advanced leisurely. Walking closely knit as they did was not optimal for speed. It did give ample opportunities for little kisses and chatting though. “It has been over a year,” Beatrice said, looking at her right hand. “My sensation of time passing is odd.”
“Why’s that?” John wondered.
“Theory: Artificial Spirits usually derive life experience from their creators and form their personality from it, their instructions, and the attributes of their cores. Due to the implantation of Aclysia’s memories to supplement the lack of instructions, the experiences and the memories are muddled. Second theory: the way I focus on work clashes with my internal counting and creates an effect where I simultaneously have time pass rapidly and yet notice every second.”
“I hope that isn’t unpleasant.”
“It is different from your personal experience. It has its advantages,” Beatrice responded. “Question: where are we heading?”
“Somewhere you should be careful what you do with that electricity of yours,” John teased.
Their target soon came into view.
