"The- the fun part?" Mane asked in an awkward stammer. Her face lit up red, not so much because any specific image had sprung from her imagination as because Ursula's mere tone had been enough to fluster her severely. Ursula, for her part, giggled and fluttered her eyelashes in a teasing fashion that only left Mane more captivated. "Mewwwwww." 

"Theeeere's my cub," Ursula giggled. Her voice dropped into something of a heavy purr. She reached over and scratched Mane's neck with the tips of her nails. Mane stimmed uncontrollably, so much that even the body and arms of her cape swished wildly from her twisting body's momentum. Ursula giggled again and narrowed her eyes slightly. She peered deep into Mane's soul, her expression coy and catlike and powerful. Mane felt as though she would physically melt into a warm lesbian goo puddle if she were exposed to that look for too long. Fortunately for her, it didn't keep its flesh dissolving homosexual rays of unconditional affection on her for more than a few seconds before she switched expressions to a much less potent one. 

Ursula turned her body towards the door, but kept her head aimed in Mane's direction. She giggled again and pointed at the door, her shoulders shrugging as if to punctuate her body language with a question mark. Mane didn't understand for a few seconds. She tried to figure out what that meant but at the moment she was far too gay to function, let alone perform such a feat. 

"Huh?" Mane asked. "Wh-sorry, I-"

"Tis okay, cub!" Ursula cooed. She smiled again, but it was a more sunny and airy kind of smile this time- the kind old movies would slap on a female character to demonstrate how carefree she was. "You ready to go check out swimsuits n' stuff?" Right, Mane remembered, right! That's what they'd come here to do, they were here to pick out cute outfits to wear at the beach. 

Oh, gosh. The gravity of that thought hit her like- like a wave, fittingly enough. 

"Y-yeah!" Mane replied. She kicked at the air with her right leg. "I um…" 

"You like your figure, still?" Asked Ursula. She'd turned her body to face towards Mane again, and she was playing with her hair as she thought. Her eyes weren't as focused as usual. A panic coursed through Mane. 

"Ursula? Are you there? It's okay," Mane purred as she practically fell against Ursula like her curvaceous body was a gravity well and threw her arms around her. "I'm here Ursula focus on me everything's-" Ursula giggled wordlessly and rested a hand on top of Mane's head. Mane turned red again and her confidence flew from her mid sentence, her words supplanted by chaotic mewls. "A-ah! Sorry, I thought you were-"

"I know, cub," Ursula purred in a rich, deep, caring voice much like the one Mane had just lapsed into by instinct alone. Mane squeezed tighter and rubbed her face against Ursula's shirt, mewling yet harder. Ursula's hand petted Mane's head gently, softly. It seemed to deliberately take its time, use its long slender fingers to play with Mane's tangled silky hair. "You thought I was having an episode?" Mane whimpered out an answer. Neither she nor Ursula could make out the specifics- quite possibly it didn't even contain any actual words- but the sentiment, a simple "yes," was well understood by both. "No need to worry, cub. I haven't had one of those in a long time. Remember that article about LSD helping with PTSD under certain conditions?" Mane nodded. "Erias gave a similar treatment and I'm cured now!...of the PTSD symptoms specifically, anyway. Mostly the flashbacks and night terrors." Mane squeezed tighter.

She was so happy to hear that. 

"Now now, cub," said Ursula, wiping tears from Mane's face that Mane hadn't realized were there. "May I repeat my question? About whether you still like your figure?"

"W-well. Uh. Yeah, mostly," Mane answered sheepishly. She liked her hips, she liked her flat tummy, she liked how skinny she was everywhere but her legs (and she LOVED her bizarrely muscled legs, her calves specifically). She was a demure little thing but with fun curves in two of three places she'd give them to herself if offered the choice. 

As for the third…yeah, her just barely having boobs was a bit of a letdown. 

Her body hair was thin, extremely blonde, and she didn't have much anywhere but her legs. She was grateful for that- with how much her beard bothered her despite being her most tangible connection to her grandfather, the thought of her entire body bearing similar terrified her. 

Of course, she knew intellectually that these body standards were bullshit. Outdated horseshit implemented by white men to put their women below themselves but above women who were not white, and used to shame bodies that didn't appeal to them. Again, that usually meant women of color. She didn't vocalize it towards anyone else because she knew entirely too well what the consequences were and what it did to people. 

After all, the older of her two sisters still lived off of a diet that upset her to even think about. And back under the Accord, hearing the ones celebrities and idols and actors were expected to subject their bodies to…again. Thinking about it made her skin crawl. 

She felt a memory about her girlfriend, starring the man who bullied her sister into a lifetime of disordered eating, struggling towards the surface.

She told that memory to politely go fuck itself.

"Mostly?" Asked Ursula. She tilted her head with interest. Mane let go of her and stepped away half a step. "What's the part you don't? We could get a bikini that conceals, they make those! And I'm sure the affini made some mild improvement to their function just to flex their superiority." Mane laughed. The bad feelings left for a second. 

"Still you, huh? Even after an implant?" Mane asked with a cocky grin. 

"But of course!" Ursula smiled. "Did you think this bear would let herself be subjugated by some imperious fern?" The two shared a long, hearty laugh. 

"Hahaha, I see!" Mane said in between chortles. "But no, actually. It's more…" she blushed, hesitantly. "Permission to uh, shooow…?" 

"As long as it's nothing lewd," Ursula answered, her voice suddenly very flat and serious. Mane froze for a second. Her mind raced. 

"Is that…my definition lewd, yours, or my dad's? Because-"

"Dear," Ena interjected suddenly, faster than their body's eyes could turn red. "She's here to help you pick out a two piece and go to the beach. There's like two things she could mean that wouldn't be HUGE PROBLEMS in the immediate future, no?" Ena's words could easily come off as a passive aggressive barb, but her tone said they weren't. She was just making fun of the absurdity of that question in this context. Just as fast as Ena had come forward, the green of Ursula's eyes chased out the red of Ena's. 

"Yeah, basically," Ursula specified. Mane nodded along. 

"I meant my boobs." Mane had never had this much trouble talking about that in this context. Then again, she'd always been much shier in person.In this specific field, especially, her confidence didn't translate very well unless something pressed her towards it. "I…barely have any. I can just wear an oversized bra with clothes, but um." 

"Falsies."

"Huh?"

"Falsies!" Ursula repeated, giggling a little. "We can just get you fake boobs. Don't worry they have reaaaaally nice, super realistic ones here. They're comfy! Or so I'm told." Ursula posed like she was lost in thought and "accidentally" squished her boobs between her arms. Her mouth became a coy grin. "I've never had much need for them on account of mine." 

"Oh," Mane answered, feeling rather embarrassed for having forgotten. She had a pair at home but the bra she'd stolen was so big that it actually did a better job giving fake boobs on its own. So long, of course, as she was wearing it under something else. She'd miss it, but she was sure the affini could zappy a suitable replacement into being on a whim. For the time being, falsies sounded great. "Yeah, I'm up to try that. Lead the way!" 

"Which of us should pick one out first?" Ursula asked with a teasing wink.

"Y-you!" Mane squeaked. She may have wanted to see Ursula in a cute skimpy swimsuit, maybe just a little. 

—-----

Melody was quiet. Cordelia found herself growing worried about her precious floret. Melody ceasing to speak wasn't always a bad thing, but it rarely served as an omen of anything good. The floret leaned against a wall, eyes cast down at the fidget toy in her hand. She clicked buttons and turned little gears with her fingers, the sounds and sensations hopefully helping to soothe her some. Judging by her face, unfortunately, results were mixed at best. 

"Did her owner greet you this time?"

"No." Melody sounded distant. It hurt Cordelia's core to see the little thing in so much pain. Sure, this had been what Ayle wanted, and she and her owner Vanciti had filled out all of the necessary paperwork. Ayle got tested at Cordelia's insistance, and that had not dug anything up to stop them. 

It was ultimately Ayle's decision, obviously. To pressure a sapient being into identity death…the thought made Cordelia's leaves sharpen and go stiff with horror. Vanciti's motives were as pure as any affini: Ayle wished to escape the burden of having thoughts, and the affini who claimed her chose to help towards that end. 

But, perhaps selfishly, it was not for Ayle that Cordelia grieved. 

Vanciti knew this would hurt Melody. Ayle had to have known as well, right? So then…

No, no.

She couldn't let herself go down that line of thought. Ayle was happy now, she would be happy forever, it was chemically impossible for her to ever be unhappy again. From Ayle's perspective, any emotion less soul-shatteringly beautiful than the obscene joy of being consumed in a galaxy of orgasmic bliss, escalating always in just the right way that adjusting became impossible…anything less than that, was quite literally unthinkable. It was the very model of a happy ending, speaking entirely literally. No ending for Ayle could possibly, could PHYSICALLY, be happier. 

And yet Melody grieved as though she had died. The visits made using Me1odiUs on a roughly monthly basis didn't change that. Melody had consented, but had she ever truly wanted this? Or was that just a sacrifice she made, a compromise to give happiness to someone who had held her hand as she threw away everything and risked her life trusting alien invaders? Did Melody consent only because she felt she owed it? Or was she simply more willing to suffer than she was to ask Ayle to compromise? Perhaps she simply hadn't forseen the gravity of living on after?

Melody wouldn't tell her, even if she asked. She could have Impy force the answer out of her, but that would be a betrayal of her human's trust. She wouldn't even entertain the notion of doing that to Melody after everything the poor little Terran had been through. Cordelia stroked her beloved Melody's hair with a vine. 

"I'm sorry. You've been through so much…" 

Melody sniffled loudly and clutched at the cube in her hands. 

"It's not fair…" she was shaking. 

Dirt, they were in public. Cordelia's colors faded dramatically with worry. Her flowers wilted, but only the ones that had her body between them and Melody. The others stayed on display through sheer will alone. They even performed a stilted imitation of a happy little twirl in the morning breeze. 

"I know, Little Flower. It's not fair." To her, did she mean? To Ayle? And what was "it," anyway? Ayle being class O'd? The affini coming too late? Ayle's life in general, maybe? Or perhaps…she meant everything. 

"It's not fair," Melody gulped down a heavy, heaving breath. Cordelia wrapped a thin vine around each of Melody's hands. Both the vines and the hands gripped the other as though clinging for their lives. By her own account, she never cried back on Gisk. Not even…

Taking class G's had allowed her to cry. To suffer openly. She only had those through Cordelia's help. 

"It's okay to cry, Little Flower. Have you been holding this in?"

"I want her back," Melody wailed with a heavy sob. "I want Ayle back! I want her and Mane to meet again, I want her to be able to tell Mane that she loved her, I want the three of us to be together forever like we promised!!" She was pulled against Cordelia's soft pink body and she snuggled in. 

"There there, darling," Cordelia purred. Some affini would simply drug this outburst away. She was welcome to, she knew; her fellows would only approve. It would be the fastest, most painless, most efficient solution. 

But it wasn't what Melody wanted. 

"Whyyyy," Melody sobbed. Her entire body trembled. "We could have been happy, we were so close…" Cordelia silently stroked the back of Melody's head with a vine. 

"I know darling. I'm sorry. It's okay. Let it out, dear." 

Cordelia's tablet beeped. It was probably Airy.