Chapter 1775 – Aztec Aftermath
Did the ceremony fix everything?
Of course not.
A big event did not for a healed psyche make. The Aztec people were still deeply confused as to their own cultural identity and place in this new realm. Equally, Nahua spent some of the first night in John’s bed sobbing. That she experienced happiness only made the tragedy of her loss that much stronger by contrast.
However, a big event did have an impact. Underlying issues could not be fixed in a day. Certainty about their safety was a big relief for the Aztecs and on the second day, already, they requested work in various forms. Nahua’s oath that her people would strive to be a productive addition to Fusion, not guests devouring resources, echoed in the soul of her tribe. Much work had to be done and that work had begun.
As for Nahua’s sobbing, it did not last long and she drifted away again after only a few encouraging whispers. Healed, the psyche was not, but they were on the mend. The wound was not festering. There was hope for a better tomorrow for everyone involved.
That was the greatest gift of such a ceremony.
Going back to paperwork the morning after felt almost surreal.
“John, I have a personal question,” Moira started.
“Does it have anything to do with you still ruining my fucking day, bootie worshipper?” Eliana threw in before John could answer anything.
The pretty little psycho was currently seated on one of the guest chairs. It was obviously not where she wanted to be, naked and horny as she was. While Eliana was every bit willing to, John himself was not comfortable with getting his usual work hour service in front of the Warden – especially not since she had gotten herself a proper appointment.
“Bootie worshipper?” The redhead was confused more than anything by that particular insult.
“I have seen your bimbo bitch of a Lady and there’s only one reason why anyone would fall to their knees in front of that smug shortie.”
“Sacrilege!”
“Brilliant rebuttal.”
“If you desire an actual argument to refute your heresy: your way of life is horrendous and you could not support even yourself if you tried. Why would I feel like I need to take any advice from one such as you? Your twin purposes are: sexual relief and emotional breakdowns.”
“I… Wow,” Eliana blinked a couple of times, then broke out into shrill laughter.
Moira gave John a worried glance, as if to ask if she had broken the pretty little psycho. In a nonchalant tone, the Gamer said, “Eliana also makes gorgeous art. Have you seen the picture she made of your clash with Jane?”
The redhead immediately blushed. “There was no need to put such a minor event to the digital pen.”
“DIGITAL FUCKING PEN?!” Eliana snapped out of her laughing fit. “It’s a fucking canvas! It’s a proper oil painting.”
“You… mean to tell me you have uses beyond faking orgasms?”
“Take that back,” Eliana growled.
The mood in the room shifted drastically. Some of the instinctual dread humans felt towards the goddess of genocide was manifesting in both Moira and John himself. Neither of them were overcome by the emotion. The redhead lowered her head. “I apologize, I am overdoing it on calling you useless.”
“No, you dumb fucking cunt, I’m not faking orgasms! John is just that good at turning my pussy into a broken faucet.” Clenching her teeth, she continued to growl, “Call him a bad lover again and I’ll see if that shield really is indestructible.”
Moira’s hand reflexively went for the pendant around her neck. Her divine armament, or whatever the proper title for that shield was, probably did have Indestructible 10… but it also probably had never been tested against an entity like Eliana. “I overstepped, I apologize,” the Warden said, looking both at Eliana and John.
John had not taken offense in the first place, he just loved that Eliana had. He forgave it with a simple gesture.
“…Do you actually enjoy that?” Moira asked the naked submissive. “Being his walk-and-fuck toy?”
“No?”
“Then-“
“Enjoyment is way too fucking weak a word. I fucking love it. Only problem here is that when he cums inside me, he shoots fucking blanks! I am flour!” She smacked her thick thighs. “Soft and I yearn to be bread!”
In the background, Ehtra used the swivel of her chair to turn away and hide her audibly suppressed laughter with her shoulder.
For her part, Moira rubbed her temples. “That is degenerate,” she muttered, her true frustration left deep inside her, courtesy of her current company. “What would I expect of you anyway… you refuse to even wear clothes in my presence. Do you even have pants on?”
John stood up to prove that he indeed did. “Put them on before you entered,” he admitted freely.
Moira put one hand on the edge of the table and pinched the bridge of her nose. “The filthiness that must be the legroom of that table.”
“You say that like Ehtra didn’t squirt all over that exact spot half a fucking hour ago,” Eliana drawled sarcastically.
Moira snapped back a step, turned around, caught Ehtra’s intense blushing, turned to John, and glared. “Look,” John sighed. “If you want to find a surface in this office I did not have sex on, we would have to go into another building.” He was exaggerating. Having sex in public offices was way less exciting when they belonged to oneself. “And anything you think we did in this room pales in comparison to the Couch you regularly sit on.”
“…I prefer not to think about that,” Moira mumbled.
John had his doubts about that. Considering her powers and the regular training she did, Moira had an at least somewhat elevated Libido. Further, considering just how hot his haremettes were, he would have found it weirder if the (very much confirmed) bisexual redhead did not fantasize on what went on inside the harem at times.
‘I do remember the struggles of single life,’ the Gamer thought and chose not to voice any of those thoughts. “To give both of you your due, you indeed should not listen to Eliana for general life advice.” He felt free to state that in front of the pretty little psycho. Of the many things she was honest about, her own state of mind being unique and still on the somewhat unstable side was chief among them. “That being said, I think you underestimate how good her art is. Been to the Fusion Parliament?” Moira nodded. “Have you seen the Tragedy of the White House?”
Said painting was five metres wide and two metres tall. A massive, hand-painted thing with a custom made frame that harmonized perfectly with the many-coloured flames that consumed the White House in the painting. It was a dramatic recreation of the immediate aftermath of Sigmund’s attack, drawn after gathering several eyewitnesses from that time.
Eliana cringed where she sat, grabbing Moira’s attention. “You made that?”
“IT’S SO FUCKING BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!” Eliana shouted and fell off the chair. John had to circle around the table to see the pretty little psycho curl up on the floor. “That fucking gold-tipped fucking grass fuck that was so bad I painted that so fucking bad I fucking hate it why did I publish it…?!”
“It is a gorgeous piece of historical art, it will be remembered for a hundred years at least.”
“FUCK!”
“Artists are strange creatures,” John drawled.
“I cannot believe she painted that…” Moira mumbled. “To think I looked at her work in awe and never realized.”
“You see her work literally every moment you run around the Guild Hall,” John pointed out with second-hand pride. If Eliana was not going to boast about it, he was going to do it for her. The quizzical expression on Moira’s face bid him to continue. “She made the Fusion flag, both designs.”
“Really?” Moira blinked repeatedly. “I must thoroughly apologize. Truly, you are an artisan. Debauched as your social life may be, I cannot fault your artistic genius whatsoever. Your work with colours rivals that old maste-“
The redhead only halted her cascade of genuine compliments because Eliana grabbed her by the leg. “For the love of dicks, please just fucking insult me,” she whined. “Stop being fucking nice to me. You’re killing me!”
It was in that moment that John saw the realization click in Moira’s head. “But I must declare how much I adore your work!” she continued, twice as loud in compliments. “Truly it is a marvel to behold your works. Not even the great Michelangelo could compare to the brush strokes. Perhaps a personal endorsement is in order? The good people of the former Order lands will certainly appreciate an artist elevated by me, one of the Lady’s foremost servants. You absolutely deserve i-“
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” That was all Eliana could take. Screaming and blushing, the pretty little psycho darted for the door, rushed through it, slammed it shut behind herself, and sought refuge with Momo.
Moira smirked, quite pleased with herself.
“You know she knows you meant all of that,” John pointed out. “She’s really good at hearing lies.”
“It may have been embellished, but it was the truth,” Moira responded. “Alas, now that we have the privacy of you, I, and your well-trained secretary…” Ehtra nodded to herself, happy that someone was acknowledging that she was doing a proper job by not derailing every conversation in earshot, “…my request: do you mind if I ask a private question?”
“Well, we are basically done with what you came here for.” The Gamer gestured at a thick folder that contained a number of requests for resources issued by the Order and his answers to them. Most of them had been entirely reasonable, some had been niche but understandable, and the rest were things that were hard to get. If anything, it all was too spartan. William was a military man after all. A shiny one, yes, but a military man. “So, I suppose I got a moment to chat. Especially since you just chased away my work time entertainment.”
“I- should not engage in your degeneracy… you are just saying these things to rile me up…” Moira said to herself more than him.
“It really does not help that you keep reacting to it all in such amusing ways,” John responded. “Your question?”
After a few seconds, the redhead blurted out, “You’re fucking her, aren’t you?”
John found the question confusing for a split second. ‘Ah, Nahua,’ he narrowed things down a bit. “I mean, yes, obviously?”
“It is not obvious at all, the political ramifications are immense!”
“Not really? If I can survive the fallout with Lydia, this is nothing in comparison.”
“Nothing? Her realm is much grander!”
John’s confusion spiked, then he realized his mistake. Confusion turned into momentary panic. He did not let that show. Instead, he laughed. “Sorry, I thought you were talking about Nahua.”
Blinking twice, Moira straightened slightly. “I do not need to ask about bloody Nahua,” she shot back. “That should have been obvious.”
“It wasn’t. Anyway, given context clues, you must be talking about Lu Zhi?” A swift nod confirmed the suspicion. “We are not.”
For all the faults he could have found in the female paladin, and there were a few bad traits she had picked up from her father, dishonesty was not among them. Moira openly gave him the side-eye of the very, very doubtful. “You know, you behave a certain way around your women,” she stated plainly. “And they around you. When you so much as approach a room, immediately it changes their priorities. I have spent enough time with Jane, Lorelei and Hailey to spot that difference reliably.”
“You’re saying Lu Zhi was behaving that way?” the Gamer asked, still playing the fool. “That would be quite the admirer to have.”
Moira raised an eyebrow, then sighed and dropped the topic. “Shall I take your answer to the Order’s petition with me?”
“That one is going into our file cabinet,” John answered and patted the folder. “You will receive a finalized version per email by the afternoon. Forward it to your father at your leisure.”
“The Lord-Protector will receive it swiftly,” Moira stated bluntly. “A good day to you, Mister President.”
“Likewise,” John said and forced himself not to look at the redhead’s backside as she left. “She’s getting more comfortable with me,” he noted once she was out of the building.
“She’s somewhere in our Palace every day, so that is hardly a surprise,” Ehtra pointed out.
That was, indeed, the continuing trend. It was also the expected trend. Moira had many reasons to come hang out with his harem, Jane, Hailey and Lorelei specifically. There were the usual ones, them being friends and all, but also the fact that the Warden was short on sparring partners that could actually beat her otherwise. For someone whose identity was so deeply tied to her ability to protect, good training was important.
‘Maybe I should take her along for a grinding session sometime?’ John wondered and circled back behind the table. Once he was seated, Eliana peeked her head into the office. “Yes, the compliment-giver is gone.”
“Thank cock,” Eliana groaned and walked into the room. To John’s amusement, she had put on one of the spare robes he kept in the office bedroom. She immediately took it off again, tossing it into her pocket dimension before crawling into her desired space under the table. “The fuck you staring at me for?!”
“You know, you can behave like you hate compliments all day, but you did just put on clothes for her, my dear broken angel.”
“…Just put your fucking cock in my throat please?” Eliana begged.
He let her have that one.