RE: The Opulent Quarrel - Round One: Mademoiselle Primfel's
06-16-2016, 03:43 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-16-2016, 10:32 PM by Hellfish.)
Cats normally land on their feet, but Felixia was not really a cat, and she’d just been thrown through an interdimensional portal. She plowed headfirst into a bookcase.
Contestant?
A large tome thumped solidly onto the arcanomachine’s head, sending a shower of sparks across her vision. Contestant? What? Was this one of the Pyrrhus Club’s new games? Felixia scrabbled through the shower of books crashing down around her. Her claws scored a long gash in the cover of Dancing With Diplomats, raking up little curls of paper. This wasn’t in her timetable. She was supposed to be in the Carmine Lounge with the Comtesse Du Vraquier. Had she misread? Who had those people been? Was this some rogue VR simulation? What was she wearing?
“A-hem.” A rather prim-looking human was gazing down at her. Belatedly Felixia realized she was on her back and tried to right herself, but only succeeded in entangling herself further in the miniature schoolgirl’s uniform into which she’d been stuffed.
“Young lady. You are extremely late.”
Felixia blinked. She was in an expansive ballroom full of tittering girls- girls of every shape and size, most of them species she’d never seen. They were looking at her with obvious scorn. Was that another CoveTech model? No, just a pink-haired felinoid. Felixia felt her mechanical heart sink a little.
“Ten demerits, one for every minute you were late, and five more for damaging school property,” the first human sniffed, pointing to the scratched book. She marked something off on a little tablet in her hand. “I understand you’re one of the newcomers, but there can be no excuse for such tardiness. Now, go join your partner.”
Hopelessly confused, Felixia found herself dragged across the floor and swept off into the arms of something very like an oversized yellow spider that had to crouch awkwardly down to hold her paws. Her head still smarting, Felixia was slowly led around and around in a waltz set to the tune of a reedy violin. Her dancing partner hissed and clicked at her irritably as she stumbled around the ballroom, paws slipping on the marble.
Completely absurd, Felixia thought dazedly. There must have been some kind of mistake. She must have been sent to a VR room on accident, and now she was in some bizarre scenario about- dancing? School? Teenagers? She couldn’t ascertain the theme, and the violin was giving her a headache. She danced about as well as any cat propped up on its hind legs for the next few minutes, her thoughts racing. Surely this bizarre simulation would end soon. She just had to wait. Her chances of returning to the Comtesse on time were-
What? Zero?
The dance ended abruptly, Felixia’s partner dumping her without ceremony on the floor as the students convened about the nearby wall barres for a break. The arcanomachine sat dazed for a moment before bouncing back to her feet, her claws clattering on the tiles. Surely she could access some kind of information program on this simulation. There must be a failsafe somewhere.
She bounded across the ballroom to the pink felinoid she had spotted earlier. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “How can I exit this program? I’m very late. I have an appointment.”
The felinoid looked at her, rolled her eyes and said, “Get lost.”
“I have to leave this simulation! I have a very profitable bet to close! You have to assist me!”
The pink-haired girl gave her an irritated look. Her dour expression spoiled her otherwise quite pretty face. “This isn’t a simulation.”
Felixia paused. The girl’s odds of lying to her were… low. She felt herself becoming aware of the very real breeze wafting through the ballroom, the detail of the class’ conversations, the coolness of the marble under her paws. This wasn’t VR at all.
“Then… where am I?” Felixia asked plaintively.
The girl nearest the pink felinoid elbowed her. She was starting at Felixia’s mouth with blank, pearly eyes. “Are you a contestant?”
Felixia’s ears flicked back and forth. “A… thing called Sophie was involved. This is some kind of mistake.”
The two girls looked at each other. The pink one shrugged. “You’re in a battle to the death. We’re in it too.” She wrinkled her button nose at Felixia and said, “I’m Georgia. Is there some kind of cat theme?”
Before Felixia could respond, a feral-looking human slunk up to the group, hair bristling unattractively around her neck. Another group of girls watched her go, giggling to themselves. “Brought more friends, kitten?” the girl asked Georgia tauntingly, casting a yellow eye over Felixia. “I bet you two are sisters. How cute.”
Georgia groaned. She’d hoped that she would be able to escape from Mori’s clique at least during classes, but Madame Chora’s attention was occupied on a birdlike student struggling with her footwork. She could see Mori watching smugly from the other side of the room, surrounded by sniggering girls.
Georgia was about to suggest to Victoria where she could stuff her tail when the little cat at her feet interrupted. “Do you bet we’re sisters?” Her tail lashed, clinking on the marble.
Victoria growled. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone’s wayward pet. “That’s what I said.”
“Would you bet your left eye?”
The werewolf blinked disdainfully at the question. “What? Whatever.”
“We are not sisters.” Georgia watched the cat lean forward, tail twitching. “This bet is concluded.”
There was a little shimmer of golden light, an electric tingle in the air, and suddenly Victoria was screaming, bright scarlet draining from the empty socket where her left eye had been. She howled, slamming into the ballet barre and snapping it like a toothpick. Concerned students flocked to her as the werewolf swung wildly about in a panic, trailing red droplets across the marble.
The sight of so much blood hurt Georgia’s stomach. By her ankles she felt the cat curling around her, kneading her paws gleefully. “I’m Felixia,” the cat said. “Would you like to make a wish?”
Contestant?
A large tome thumped solidly onto the arcanomachine’s head, sending a shower of sparks across her vision. Contestant? What? Was this one of the Pyrrhus Club’s new games? Felixia scrabbled through the shower of books crashing down around her. Her claws scored a long gash in the cover of Dancing With Diplomats, raking up little curls of paper. This wasn’t in her timetable. She was supposed to be in the Carmine Lounge with the Comtesse Du Vraquier. Had she misread? Who had those people been? Was this some rogue VR simulation? What was she wearing?
“A-hem.” A rather prim-looking human was gazing down at her. Belatedly Felixia realized she was on her back and tried to right herself, but only succeeded in entangling herself further in the miniature schoolgirl’s uniform into which she’d been stuffed.
“Young lady. You are extremely late.”
Felixia blinked. She was in an expansive ballroom full of tittering girls- girls of every shape and size, most of them species she’d never seen. They were looking at her with obvious scorn. Was that another CoveTech model? No, just a pink-haired felinoid. Felixia felt her mechanical heart sink a little.
“Ten demerits, one for every minute you were late, and five more for damaging school property,” the first human sniffed, pointing to the scratched book. She marked something off on a little tablet in her hand. “I understand you’re one of the newcomers, but there can be no excuse for such tardiness. Now, go join your partner.”
Hopelessly confused, Felixia found herself dragged across the floor and swept off into the arms of something very like an oversized yellow spider that had to crouch awkwardly down to hold her paws. Her head still smarting, Felixia was slowly led around and around in a waltz set to the tune of a reedy violin. Her dancing partner hissed and clicked at her irritably as she stumbled around the ballroom, paws slipping on the marble.
Completely absurd, Felixia thought dazedly. There must have been some kind of mistake. She must have been sent to a VR room on accident, and now she was in some bizarre scenario about- dancing? School? Teenagers? She couldn’t ascertain the theme, and the violin was giving her a headache. She danced about as well as any cat propped up on its hind legs for the next few minutes, her thoughts racing. Surely this bizarre simulation would end soon. She just had to wait. Her chances of returning to the Comtesse on time were-
What? Zero?
The dance ended abruptly, Felixia’s partner dumping her without ceremony on the floor as the students convened about the nearby wall barres for a break. The arcanomachine sat dazed for a moment before bouncing back to her feet, her claws clattering on the tiles. Surely she could access some kind of information program on this simulation. There must be a failsafe somewhere.
She bounded across the ballroom to the pink felinoid she had spotted earlier. “Excuse me,” she said politely. “How can I exit this program? I’m very late. I have an appointment.”
The felinoid looked at her, rolled her eyes and said, “Get lost.”
“I have to leave this simulation! I have a very profitable bet to close! You have to assist me!”
The pink-haired girl gave her an irritated look. Her dour expression spoiled her otherwise quite pretty face. “This isn’t a simulation.”
Felixia paused. The girl’s odds of lying to her were… low. She felt herself becoming aware of the very real breeze wafting through the ballroom, the detail of the class’ conversations, the coolness of the marble under her paws. This wasn’t VR at all.
“Then… where am I?” Felixia asked plaintively.
The girl nearest the pink felinoid elbowed her. She was starting at Felixia’s mouth with blank, pearly eyes. “Are you a contestant?”
Felixia’s ears flicked back and forth. “A… thing called Sophie was involved. This is some kind of mistake.”
The two girls looked at each other. The pink one shrugged. “You’re in a battle to the death. We’re in it too.” She wrinkled her button nose at Felixia and said, “I’m Georgia. Is there some kind of cat theme?”
Before Felixia could respond, a feral-looking human slunk up to the group, hair bristling unattractively around her neck. Another group of girls watched her go, giggling to themselves. “Brought more friends, kitten?” the girl asked Georgia tauntingly, casting a yellow eye over Felixia. “I bet you two are sisters. How cute.”
Georgia groaned. She’d hoped that she would be able to escape from Mori’s clique at least during classes, but Madame Chora’s attention was occupied on a birdlike student struggling with her footwork. She could see Mori watching smugly from the other side of the room, surrounded by sniggering girls.
Georgia was about to suggest to Victoria where she could stuff her tail when the little cat at her feet interrupted. “Do you bet we’re sisters?” Her tail lashed, clinking on the marble.
Victoria growled. She clearly wasn’t in the mood to deal with someone’s wayward pet. “That’s what I said.”
“Would you bet your left eye?”
The werewolf blinked disdainfully at the question. “What? Whatever.”
“We are not sisters.” Georgia watched the cat lean forward, tail twitching. “This bet is concluded.”
There was a little shimmer of golden light, an electric tingle in the air, and suddenly Victoria was screaming, bright scarlet draining from the empty socket where her left eye had been. She howled, slamming into the ballet barre and snapping it like a toothpick. Concerned students flocked to her as the werewolf swung wildly about in a panic, trailing red droplets across the marble.
The sight of so much blood hurt Georgia’s stomach. By her ankles she felt the cat curling around her, kneading her paws gleefully. “I’m Felixia,” the cat said. “Would you like to make a wish?”