The Grand Folia Hotel
Chapter 4
by keysmasht
Tags:
#cw:noncon
#D/s
#Human_Domestication_Guide
#petplay
#pov:bottom
#scifi
#anxiety
#covert_conditioning
#dom:plants
#hurt/comfort
#maid
#xenophobia
CW: Very mild needle play? And death mention
Amaranth sat naked atop her workbench, within her Master’s study on the Affini warship Phellos. This was her favorite spot to sit, as it often meant she was in the middle of her favorite activity: bi-weekly inspection. Though the synthetic-organic compound and Affini engineering that made up her body was state-of-the-art and virtually indestructible, her Master took pride in regularly ensuring that their mechanical charge was in absolute peak condition.
(It was only on occasion that they purposefully installed faulty parts, when Amaranth asked them to; the doll loved how they teased her when she broke and was forced to ask her Master for help.)
At the moment, her left arm had been disconnected and laid across the table as her Master fiddled with the actuators in her bicep. Amaranth idly clacked her exposed shoulder joint up and down against the edge of its socket, her dangling feet kicking to the same beat.
When they’d finished their fine-tuning, her owner stood with a satisfied hum and clicked shut the outer casing of her arm. They lifted the shoulder joint to its complement on Phoebe’s torso; dozens of autonomous vines snaked inside and anchored themselves to her skeleton, and just like that Amaranth had a left arm again.
“How does it feel?”
The doll rotated her elbow, flexed her segmented fingers individually. “It feels perfect, Master.”
“Glad to hear it,” her owner grinned, a smile Amaranth loved more than anything in the universe. “I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less. Ready for the final once-over?”
Their doll nodded obediently.
She remained perfectly still as her Master’s large fingers pressed, tapped, and ran across the surface of her porcelain skin, tracing the grooves of her ball joints in a way Amaranth found very pleasing. Her owner’s middle finger pressed just above her tailbone and slowly drew up along her spine; it was difficult to suppress a shivering moan, but Amaranth was a good doll, and remained still.
Vertebrae by delicately crafted vertebrae their finger traced its way up to Amaranth’s neck, where it stopped, pressing here and there in investigation. The doll could sense her owner frown behind her.
“That’s odd… your seams here have come undone. Nothing we can’t fix.”
A broken seam? Amaranth didn’t remember having any non-mechanical parts. Being a good doll, she watched the xylem-slick sewing needle emerge from its pink floral housing and did not voice her confusion. She remained still as it perforated the soft material of her neck, weaving back and forth, upward from above her shoulder blades to between her ears.
The suture was drawn tight, and Amaranth could feel her chin and chest subtly rise as her posture revised itself. She’d been slouching, and hadn’t even known.
“There we are. That feels a lot better, doesn’t it, Amaranth?”
Her ears would be red, had they any blood to flush with. “Yes, Master. I’m embarrassed I hadn’t noticed the deficiency.”
Her owner laughed playfully, one hand tousling the doll’s synthetic hair. “No need to be so hard on yourself, puppet, you’re very cute when you’re trying your best.” They smiled as they stepped back to look over their work, taking it in. Amaranth loved when her Master looked at her that way, like a work of art that had turned out even better than expected.
Her affini sighed happily, then turned and began to put away their tools. “I do have a surprise for you, cutie. It’s a little bonus I installed during your last maintenance trance. A major efficiency booster, which I know you love.”
Amaranth did love efficiency! She would have been bouncing on the workbench if not for the fact that, being a good doll, she remained perfectly still.
Her owner giggled. “I can tell you’re barely holding back your enthusiasm. Just a minute, doll; I need to wind you up first.”
Before she could question what that meant, Amaranth felt something new; an unfamiliar limb jutting from her back, its flat, heart-shaped outline being shown to her via sensory feedback as her owner’s vines snaked around it. The vines adjusted themselves, gripping securely on both sides- then gently twisted.
The torsion pulled sharply on her artificial bones: a deep, clicking tempo reverberating harshly throughout her tiny body. Her interlocked gears shuddered against each other as the winding key drew her body’s rhythm unnaturally in reverse. Twist, twist, twist.
Stillness and control utterly lost, Amaranth was helpless to do anything but twitch erratically, eyes forced open as her affini leisurely slinked towards her. Her Master placed a hand on either side of her doll and leaned in until nearly touching, her eager roseate eyes pulsing thickly from sparkling pink to warm, bottomless red.
The twisting stopped, leaving Amaranth in a humming, suspended state of barely restrained release. It teased her with the promise of sweet and steady cadence, just out of reach.
When Celosia next spoke, it was barely more than a whisper, dribbled through sharp, grinning teeth.
“Now, Amaranth… what I’m about to give you is a gift. Warm, reliable control.” Her fragrant breath drifted and settled inside the doll’s slack, quivering mouth, clouding her senses. “But in order to do this, you’ll need to entrust your control to me, your Mistress. When I release your key, you’ll feel my will settle within your body- it will feel new, and strong- but you must let it in, doll. Make your body a home for my control. Can you do that for me?”
She could feel vines snaking around her thighs, across her chest, claiming her inch by inch. With the held key sucking her control from her body, and her mind trapped within Celosia’s gaze, Amaranth retained barely enough motor function and awareness to respond. But she needed to accept her owner’s gift. She needed to go deeper.
With shuddering lips the doll mouthed, “Y- yes, M- Miss- tress.”
“Can I hear you say ‘Thank you, Mistress’?”
“Th- thank- you, M- miss- tr- tress.”
Celosia smiled. She released the key.
Immediately the jagged thrumming left the doll’s bones, and all at once her internal mechanisms began to roll back into motion to the beat of a new, all-encompassing rhythm. It was overwhelming. The thought-sundering winding of the key gave way to an indescribable relaxation and, unable to do anything but let the new tempo wash over her like a warm tide, Amaranth slumped forward, glassy-eyed, into Celosia’s flower bed chest.
Her Mistress giggled, and a hand nearly the size of her head gently stroked along Amaranth’s back, earning a low, sighing moan from the doll, unbidden.
“That’s it, pet. Good doll. You’re doing wonderfully, dear, just keep letting me in. Everything will be easier from here on out.”
The doll managed one last dopey smile, before the rhythm of her own gears ran over her mind completely, and she dropped.
Phoebe whipped upright in her bed, her eyes snapping open. It was morning; she was alone in her hab at the hotel. She must’ve fallen asleep at some point.
She started to regain control of her breathing as she wiped the cold sweat from her forehead. Curiously, it looked like she had been tucked in, and Becca’s bee plushie had been cradled tight within her arms. Leave it to the Affini to sneak into your bedroom while you slept just to tuck you in.
The girl grimaced as she recalled the details of her dream. Nightmare, really. Where the hell had that come from? Had Celosia really left that much of an impression on her?
She fiercely berated her brain before clearing her head to the best of her ability. She was already in a precarious situation here, she didn’t need her own mind playing pranks on her in her sleep.
Crawling out of bed, she carefully inspected her apartment for any hiding aliens. The room looked untouched, as far as she could tell. The compiler had been moved an inch to the left, maybe.
…Wait a minute. Something was off.
Phoebe ran over to her bedside window and tore open the blinds. She promptly regretted this decision as her eyes were pierced by bright daylight, making her shout and stumble backwards. It wasn’t morning, it was nearly noon! She’d slept through half of the day!
In a rush she threw herself together: shaved, brushed her hair (with plenty of curses for every audible snap), doused her face and pulled on her new dress. She considered, deconsidered, and reconsidered before giving up and putting on the accursed collar. At least it wasn’t tagged.
The reclining room balconies at the apex of daylight were busier than they’d been during yesterday’s tour, and Phoebe flinched reflexively upon leaving her hab. To her surprise, the room wasn’t as loud as the crowd would otherwise suggest. A welcome relief, but Phoebe still kept her head down and ran (fast-walked, when a passing affini corrected her) down the lower balcony ramps to the front desk hallway.
“Sorry I’m late, it’s my first day and I forgot to set an alarm and…”
She flew into her pre-prepared apology spiel, but stopped dead when she finally saw who she was apologizing to.
Why she’d assumed that the same two sophonts would always be running the front desk, Phoebe had no idea. Rosifax and Becca had never actually said they would be here when Phoebe returned, but nothing in the vastness of the universe could have prepared Phoebe for who she found in their place.
The familiar animate bouquet that was Celosia Pulchris was indeed here, legs kicked up on the desk and looking characteristically nonchalant, but it was the terran she was speaking with that stole the beat from Phoebe’s heart. Sitting on the desk, in casual conversation with the affini, in a Hotel servant dress and in seemingly perfect health, was Jazz.
It was Celosia who noticed Phoebe first, and the affini looked genuinely happy to see her.
“Well, if it isn’t my little dandelion! And looking positively beddable in uniform, I must say. I’m overjoyed you took my advice, petal, the look really suits you.”
For a few endless seconds Jazz just sat there, a stupefied look on their face as the two terrans stared at each other in silence from across the room; and then it was gone, replaced with an effervescent joy as the girl practically threw herself from the desk and pulled Phoebe into a tight embrace. “Amaranth!! Stars above, it’s really you!”
None of this made any sense. She didn’t smell the same; like flowers and shampoo rather than dusty fatigues and burnt wires like Phoebe remembered.
But the hug was her, even more her than Phoebe’s cherished memories. Her head was spinning but she could never, would never pull away. Phoebe dug further into Jazz’s arms and told them through the language of physical love what she couldn’t say with her words, a long overdue message she never thought she’d be able to send.
Celosia just seemed surprised, and a little hesitant to interrupt what seemed to be an important moment. “You’ve met before?”
Before Phoebe could spew out another jury-rigged backstory element, Jazz cut in with the perfect save. “Yes! We met on the Phellos, what feels like forever ago.” They were giving Phoebe the old ‘don’t worry, I’ve got this’ look, setting her up for a routine she was completely oblivious to. As if Phoebe had any idea what the hell was going on. “Where have you been? How have you been? Where’s Asterid?”
Why was she asking more questions?! “He’s… reblooming,” was pretty much everything she had. “Can we, um, talk? For a second? Alone?”
Celosia and Jazz shared a look. Phoebe hated that. “Sure,” Jazz said, before Phoebe grabbed them by the wrist and dragged them into the nearby bathroom.
Fucking hell even their public bathrooms were cozy. Phoebe was angry so she forcibly blocked out the details of the room and began searching its various corners. “Is this room bugged, or being recorded?”
“No, it–” Jazz held back a chuckle, which Phoebe’s brain insisted was at her expense but was definitely because Jazz thought she was cute. “It’s a bathroom, Phoebe.”
“And you think the Affini are above that?” Jazz apparently didn’t have an answer to that. “I– You– What are you even doing here?”
The other girl blinked in surprise. “They didn’t tell you?” It occurred to Phoebe that Tereus-1 command had probably told their spy being sent into enemy territory as little as possible on purpose, the implications of which made her feel a little sick. “I’m the spy! The first spy, I mean- the one that got you all of that inside information. The night I left the ship, I was being sent to the Phellos on my own recon mission. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, they wouldn’t let me–”
“Did you know they were planning to send me here?”
Jazz’s smile faltered, like she’d belatedly realized she’d misunderstood the punchline of a joke. Good; Phoebe wasn’t in a laughing mood.
“What? I– no, I had no idea, but–”
“Then why do you look so happy to see me like this? In a stupid pet dress, in some… some pop-up, ego-serving weed hotel?”
Was Phoebe just a joke to her, too?
She knew she shouldn’t have said that; Jazz’s smile was gone and it tore at Phoebe’s heart to see, but she was so tired of being out of the loop, all the time. She needed an answer, any answer.
“You look…” Jazz started and then stopped, searching for the words that would return things to how they were supposed to be.
“I was just happy to see you again.”
Those weren’t them. Or, they probably were, but Phoebe was in the middle of losing her grip on her emotions and couldn’t tell. She wanted to cry in Jazz’s arms, but she also wanted to stomp out of the bathroom and refuse to talk to them. Her body compromised by making her sweaty and light-headed.
“Hey.” Jazz placed a stabilizing hand on Phoebe’s arm, with only gentle concern in their eyes. “You need to breathe. Can you follow me?”
Their eyes were a little dilated, actually. Phoebe nodded, and drew a deep breath in time with Jazz’s own. After a few exhales and inhales, she felt a lot more calm; she wanted badly to sit here in silence with her dearest and only friend for a good while, but she had to ask: “Do they have you drugged right now?”
Jazz flustered. “It’s not… they only have one kind of drug here.” They paused. “You managed to get your prescriptions, right? Captain Dipshit had to give into the pressure eventually.”
Ah. Phoebe smiled sheepishly and avoided eye contact. “Aha, actually, um… I was transferred off the ship a few weeks after you left. I, ah, haven’t really been on anything since then…”
Oh hell, Phoebe did not like that look. ‘Horrified’ didn’t begin to describe it. Without another word Jazz grabbed Phoebe’s arm and made for the door, heedless to the girl’s complaints, but stopped and turned back before leaving.
“Phoebe, listen…” Whatever she was about to say, Phoebe knew she wasn’t going to like it based on just how much they were struggling to find the right words, but she trusted them. “I know they’re the enemy, but the Affini have a code of conduct they follow in regard to other sophonts. To a degree, in certain respects, we can trust them. And I’m asking you to put a lot of faith in me here, I know, but it also wouldn’t be good if a supposedly lovely, obedient terran pet started hissing at the first sign of an errant needle.”
Their smile had a way of melting Phoebe’s fears, despite everything. “You don’t have to do this alone, okay? We’ll work together. I’m not leaving you again.”
You said the same thing last time, a sore part of Phoebe wanted to say, but she didn’t have the energy to object. She quietly drooped forward and let Jazz hold her. After the moment passed, she asked, “Who do they think you are?”
Jazz grinned. “Just Jazz, an independent terran with an interest in cute roleplay.”
“What?! Why do I have to be a floret, then? How is that fair?”
Jazz broke into a fit of laughter; Phoebe didn’t find anything about her situation funny but their amusement made her redden profusely anyway. “I mean, you kind of came out of nowhere, we needed to give them some reason to trust you. More importantly, you’d be surprised how much a floret can get just by asking nicely. You should try it.”
Phoebe grumbled, but didn’t argue as Jazz brought her back to the reception desk.
Phoebe had expected Celosia to be typing on five tablets at once or probing a terran or something, but when she returned to the front desk the affini appeared to have been weaving a couple flowers into the shape of a little rinan. She enthusiastically scooted over to show Phoebe her work as the terrans approached.
“Look!” she said, brandishing the doll like it was a frog she’d found in the grass outside. Phoebe hated to admit it, but it was a pretty solid rendition of a rinan.
No time for compliments, however, as Jazz had approached Celosia on a mission. “Miss Celosia, we have a bit of an urgent situation. Amaranth accidentally left her temporary injectors on the Phellos. She usually takes Es and Gs.”
To her credit, Celosia looked genuinely upset. “Dirt and leaves–! I’m terribly sorry, flower, I’ll go contact the Phellos and see if we can–”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Jazz quickly cut in before Phoebe could panic. “They’ll have to prepare a transport and everything, and it’ll only be for a few days. Could you just eyeball it with the standard variants?”
“Sweetheart, that wouldn’t be the responsible thing to do at all. You know we’d send that transport in a heartbeat.” Would they? “Not that we couldn’t just send a delivery drone; but I doubt they’d accept anything less than personally making sure you received it.”
Now was probably a good time for Phoebe to speak up. “Um… Miss Celosia… I really wouldn’t mind what Jazz is suggesting.”
The affini raised a disapproving eyebrow. “I don’t believe you have any authority over the management of your own medication, little pet.”
That weakened Phoebe’s knees, but after a moment of consideration Celosia just sighed, smiled and ruffled the girl’s hair. “Alright. But only for a few days; Asterid should be picking you up before then anyway. Come along, dear- and you, Jazz, if you wish.”
Celosia turned and started towards the reclining room, two vines stretching behind her in the direction of either terran. Jazz took hold of hers and it looped once around their hand; she looked back at Phoebe to give her a campy wink and a thumbs up before following Celosia. When Phoebe failed to immediately take hold of her own vine, it elected to thread itself through her collar ring instead, making her stumble a bit as she ran to catch up with the other two.
Why did it have to be Celosia? Phoebe hadn’t spoken to her since they’d met outside the entrance garden, but something about the affini discomfited her in a way she couldn’t place.
The second floor of the Grand Folia Hotel didn’t have a medical wing, but it did have a veterinarian. It was one of the few spaces in the Hotel that wasn’t intentionally over-the-top, and it was a little jarring to leave the world of the Hotel and remember that the relationship between the Affini and their underlings was more or less unchanged.
Blessedly, Celosia did not make Phoebe undergo a full examination, which would have blown her cover immediately; instead she simply did the blood tests herself, checked some readings, then excused herself for a moment with an instruction to her terran companions to “be good”.
Several minutes of Phoebe and Jazz being cooed over by the veterinarian later, Celosia returned from a back room and excitedly presented her arm to Phoebe. From within the weave of vines, two broad, yellow flowers emerged, needles at the ready.
“It’s so I can remember which ones are yours,” Celosia smiled toothily, which only made Phoebe wonder how many different kinds of drugs the affini had stashed within her body.
Once both needles had broken her flesh, Phoebe felt the familiar wave of calm from yesterday’s unrequested aid courtesy of Rosifax wash over her, albeit much less overpowering. She didn’t know what to expect from the Class-G, but Jazz assured her that she wasn’t about to form a chrysalis or suddenly mutate. Not that she really would have minded that, under different circumstances.
Despite her misgivings, it felt wonderful to be on a proper regimen again. To dwell on such a feeling in a seductive place like the Hotel, however, was dangerous. She could figure things out again once she returned from her assignment… hopefully.
Phoebe felt two of Celosia’s fingers softly rub the back of her neck, and failed to suppress a small gasp and a full-body shiver. There was no way the affini hadn’t noticed that, which was mortifying.
“Feeling better?” Celosia asked, her smile confirming both that she’d noticed and that it was exactly the response she’d hoped to elicit. Phoebe could do nothing but swallow and nod silently.
With that out of the way, the three of them gathered on a plush bench along the edge of the second-floor balcony. At Phoebe’s timid confirmation that she hadn’t eaten anything all day, Celosia pointed out a rustic little kitchen and food counter recessed into the wall nearby, recommended their “absolutely precious” Terran-style eggs and toast and suggested they all go and get something. Phoebe explained with no small amount of shame that she got uncomfortable easily when ordering food, but Celosia understood completely and offered to get something for Phoebe herself.
The affini stood and headed for the stall, leaving the two terrans alone on the bench. As Phoebe watched her go, she murmured, “I expected this place to be a little more, I don’t know… elitist? I feel like I’m not doing my job.”
“‘Grand Folia Hotel’ sounds a little pretentious, doesn’t it?” Jazz agreed. “Nah, elitism isn’t really the Compact’s thing. Like these food stalls, for example: when nobody’s working them, they’re just run automatically by A.I. The fancy hotel shtick is just for fun… but they can really commit to the bit when they want to.”
The floret behind the counter (as evidenced by the collar and the leafy affini working alongside them) was wearing the same uniform dress as Phoebe and Jazz, the biggest difference being that their face and neck were covered in little gold star stickers. Celosia gave her order to the little terran, and they nodded enthusiastically before getting to work- though most of the weight was carried by a flurry of affini vines while the floret focused on mincing herbs, most likely their favorite part.
From this distance Phoebe could see them snip the bottom of a small, dangling translucent sac, one of several, and what looked like a fairly ordinary egg (save for its deep red yolk) slipped out in a puff of steam and onto her toast: pre-cooked, over easy.
Jazz was chuckling at what must have been a particularly aghast reaction from Phoebe. “It’s all lab-grown, artificial. Anything that isn’t just compiled, anyway. They aren’t exactly fond of keeping animals as livestock.” She leaned back against the railing with a cheeky grin. “Wait ‘til you see how it tastes, though.”
The floret’s pleased reaction to Celosia’s generous head-patting was far stronger than Phoebe felt like it should be, but what really stood out to her was that the affini didn’t appear to pay them in anything else. It had felt almost like a joke at Phoebe’s expense at the time, but Rosifax may have been telling the truth. “Do they really not have any money here?”
Jazz wouldn’t look her in the eye, but Phoebe recognized their thin grimace as the hidden pain of another sophont who had survived for too long under capitalism. “They don’t have money anywhere,” they whispered. They did look at her then, their expression indecipherable. “What do you make of it so far? All of this, I mean.”
Phoebe knew she meant not just the Grand Folia Hotel, but the unmistakable influence of the Compact that defined its foundation. She swirled her bare feet around in the soft carpet, her gold-tipped hands clenching and unclenching the dark burgundy cloth and golden ruffles of her skirt. “I don’t really know yet. It’s a lot to take in.”
Jazz didn’t respond to that immediately. In her peripheral vision Phoebe could tell they were trying to read her, and it hurt to realize that she was, to a degree, actively trying to block them out. “What do they have you here doing, anyway?” they asked. The question was quieted by a poorly masked unease.
So they really didn’t know. Phoebe was almost afraid to admit to it; the evil she was willingly participating in. Right now, she didn’t even want to think about it.
“I… I need to look around more, first. I’ll tell you later. Okay?”
She tried her best to look unperturbed, but Jazz wasn’t quite satisfied. Regardless they nodded with a reassuring smile, one hand reaching out to comfortingly squeeze Phoebe’s own. It took a lot of effort to prevent herself from tearing up as Celosia returned with her food.
It tasted fantastic, despite the egg having come from a bioengineered water balloon. She happily devoured it while Jazz and Celosia discussed their favorite meals they’d experienced here at length.
“How did you two meet, then?” Phoebe asked, after a window in the conversation opened up and she’d finished obliterating her brunch.
“In the Grand Garden, actually, only a week or so ago,” Celosia mused, two fingers twirling in the glass of pulpy amber liquid she was holding. “We were on the same lusus team and we hit it off. We agreed to try working the reception desk together just the other day, actually; quite the coincidence that it led to us both meeting you at the same time.”
“All part of your plan to domesticate her, right?” Phoebe asked, crossing her fingers that the teasing inflection of her voice had made the question not sound incredibly suspicious.
Jazz choked on their drink, but Celosia only smirked slyly and averted her gaze. “You wound me, buttercup. Among my affini colleagues I’m particularly known for my restraint, I’ll have you know.”
Phoebe squinted. She was onto something, she knew it. “You do have a floret, though. Why else would you carry so many xenodrugs around? Plus, you don’t even eat food like we do, which means that all of that food you just described to Jazz, you must’ve gotten for someone else- and not an affini.”
That managed to silence Celosia for a moment, and she reevaluated the terran before her with an air of supreme amusement. “You really are a clever one, Amaranth.”
She sighed and leaned back against the balcony railing. “I didn’t eat any of those meals, just watched them being made. But yes, I did have a floret. Two, actually; a long time ago, for a terran. They’re… no longer with us.”
Ah. Nice going, dummy. Celosia saw the incoming apology and waved it off. “It’s alright, dear, I know the timescale we operate on is a little new for you. Honestly, I’d prefer if you never had to think about that. I will add, however, that xenodrugs are quite useful in a wide variety of circumstances. The majority of those I’m carrying, I acquired while floret-less.”
Phoebe nodded, more out of courtesy than anything else. She was still embarrassed by her total blunder of a probing question, but the unexpected answer had replaced her scrutiny with simple curiosity. “What, um… What were they like?”
Ever since Phoebe had met her the day prior, Celosia Pulchris had consistently maintained a sort of self-assured swagger about her. By now Phoebe had gotten used to it, so when this confidence dropped from the affini’s body language for the very first time, the contrast was all the more striking.
Those brilliant, faceted eyes were focused somewhere impossibly distant, across stretches of space and time the vastness of which Phoebe could only guess at. It scared her to realize that Celosia almost seemed even more intimidating when she wasn’t actually trying. Seconds passed in agonizing silence before Celosia spoke again.
“I don’t entirely remember.”
She ran her hand through the rosy flowers of her natural skirt, twirling one gingerly between two massive fingers. “But they had the same favorite color.”
She smiled in a tired, broken way that looked so wrong on her face.
Black abyss, this was even worse. In desperation Phoebe looked to Jazz to save her from another screw-up, but the other girl was still focused on Celosia and looked unusually distraught. The affini had also started making an unfamiliar humming noise which, while not particularly grating, was making Phoebe feel inexplicably vulnerable.
Despite herself, Phoebe couldn’t help but think of Asterid. What she’d originally written off as cruel apathy towards the real Amaranth’s mortal life, was now recast as a loss so heartbreaking that the affini couldn’t stand to be in the same system anymore. “I… can’t imagine what it’s like to outlive someone you love by so much, you begin to lose even your memories of them.”
Celosia scoffed sympathetically. “Why do you think the Affini are so obsessed with archival paperwork?”
It was only then that she looked down and saw the dismal look on Jazz’s face, snapping her back to the present as her eyes whipped between them and Phoebe, the other girl not faring any better.
“Stars damn it, I said I didn’t want you to think about that. Amaranth,” Celosia snapped, obviously trying to distract from her own embarrassment and save face, “It’s your first day. You get to decide what we’ll be doing.”
To Phoebe’s relief, Celosia had abruptly ceased the buzzing, but now she had something else to worry about. “Wait, we? Are you going to be following me all day?”
“Of course,” she smirked. “Someone has to watch you while Asterid is away. Besides, you’re having fun, aren’t you?”
“I, u-um…”
Fuck, Phoebe really didn’t want to be put on the spot right now. Thank everything that Jazz was there. It took only a pleading glance from Phoebe for them to understand what she needed.
“Um, if you don’t know where to start, why don’t we check out the Garden? Seeing as we were just talking about it.”
“Excellent idea,” Celosia agreed. “It’s always bustling around this time of day, I’m sure you’ll find plenty to get your hands on… and plenty of guests to get their hands on you.”
She winked at Phoebe, and the girl shivered involuntarily. She took Celosia’s outstretched vine, and the trio made for the Grand Garden.
Would you believe this chapter was originally just the introductory portion of the next chapter? Lots of exposition this time, but the next chapter will be a little more fun.