Collide Gamer

Moira marched up and down inside the tent. The route laid before her mind’s eye was a precise line, connecting the edge of the table inside the retreat to one of the thick cables that, often bundled together, was laid across the floor. The former presidential and now imperial media team had a tendency of putting together a chaotic backend. That wasn’t good enough as far as she was concerned. Everything had to be in order on and beneath the surface.

An issue for another time.

With every pace, the segments of her armour rattled ever so softly. She wore a radiant set of plate armour, a resplendent piece of gold and white metal, further decorated with the red-gold drapes of clothing layered between the chest plate, the colour of rich wine shared by the bodysuit she wore beneath.

All of it was sponsored by the man she was about to publicly call her… what, exactly? Boyfriend felt so wrong and casual, incapable of reflecting the layers of their relationship. Master was just completely wrong. She had learned to… enjoy certain activities more than she had initially thought she would, but she was not one of the number of thorough submissives nor maids. Prospective Warden-Lord? That implied the right thing, yet it was years or months too early for it.

‘My man?’ she wondered. ‘Can I say that? Does that sound too possessive?’

Moira squirmed, the pure discomfort of the truth shooting through her. At the same time, she had no idea what she was getting this worked up about? She knew exactly the reaping she would have to do after sowing sin into her soul. At least the last couple of days of abstinence let her claim that she was doing this cock sober. Terribly, that robbed her of the excuse that the dick was genuinely so good that it had broken her a little.

Well, it had, it just wasn’t the kind of permanent crack that let her push accountability somewhere else.

Moira shook her head, chasing the perverted thoughts out of there. In their absence, she was returned to the difficult conundrum ahead of her. “Ya know ya can still back out,” Rave commented. “Though they all know what you’re gonna say anyhow.”

“Do they?” Moira groaned at the idea. It made this both better and worse.

“Of f-n course they do.” Eliana half-choked on her curse. “Fudging shoot, I really hope that not cussing gets trudging easier with time.”

“Hon’, the rest of us ain’t strugglin’ with it,” Hailey commented.

“If you wish to fill your mouth with mantras to our Saint’s glory instead, I have plenty of material that I may recommend.”

Lorelei’s suggestion was initially met with rolled eyes. Then, Eliana actually stopped and thought about it, coming to a response that Moira did not expect. “Know what? I’ll look at your ramblings on how John is the best thing since hot cum.”

“Are you becoming a convert?” Moira asked with her typical conflict. Doctrinally, she should be happy to have her relationship be acknowledged as holy and proper. Faithfully, every soul that joined the Order was one saved, Personally, however, it all still felt so odd.

“Who the ffff…auna knows? I am not sure about any of my future.” Shifting uncomfortably in her chair, the adorable, broken angel mumbled, “I don’t think I got it in me to worship the fat assed, green-haired biiiii… female dog of a supreme deity we all live under. Lorelei is a decent writer though, so I am going to suck her creativity dry to wash my mouth out or something.” She set her amethyst eyes on Moira. “Same reason why I parasitically attached myself to this group right now.”

Under the table, Rave poked the shin of the white-blue haired woman with her big toe. “You’re really serious about trying to become more of a queen, aren’t ya?”

“I have no fucking clue… Shit! Ass! Cock sucking whore!” The one slip-up cascaded into a series of entirely unnecessary swears. It all ended with Eliana slapping herself. “Urgh, and now I hurt Master’s property, that’s just great. Fudge, I am such a massive failure of a creature.”

“Bad girl,” Rave chastised.

“Yeah, I know!” Eliana threw her hands into the air, her mood apparently not swung in the direction of deep subservience. “I’m going to watch Moira’s speech and take notes.”

“You wish to learn from me?” the redheaded Warden asked.

“You got your shhhhhh-..oes together.”

Moira laughed twice over at the ridiculous sentence that had just flowed past her pretty, purplish lips. “That was true until recently, then I got involved in a most confounding relationship.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, you are absolutely not emotionally stable or anything like that.”

“I do not feel emotionally stable.”

Eliana snorted in a slightly upsetting display of amusement. “Trust me, I’m the authority on emotional instability and you’re not even at 1 Undine out of 10 Elianas. All you got wrong in your head is how stupidly fuck…- fuck it- fucking attached you are to your ass-blasting notion of purity, you anal whore.”

“She got a point,” Rave weighed in. “Think you’re the second-best adjusted person in this tent.”

“Lorelei far surpasses me though.”

“Rel? The heck ya talkin’ about. The most well-adjusted person in this tent is obviously Hailey.”

The country girl smiled broadly. “Awww, thank ya, sug’r. I try.”

“And she ain’t that much better than the rest of us, ‘cause we ain’t that bad,” the leader of the harem added.

It was still odd to think of Rave as a leader in her life. It would never not be odd. It was still the case. To distract from her own uncertainty, Moira weaved back to an earlier topic. “I take it you have made strides in your writing of the Newman scriptures?”

Lorelei sported a subtle, proud smile at the mention of her work. “It is a steady and fulfilling work.”

“Hold up a second, you’re actually writing a whole scripture on John being a saint?” Eliana asked. “The fudge?”

“It must be written down for all those that may question the doctrine, the glory of the Gamer and his deeds.” The seer clasped her hands together. “I believe you will see in due time the wisdom in the words I pen, the observances of his holy genius.”

Moira remained… conflicted. Observing the reactions of the others was at least something to distract her mind from the awfulness ahead of her. Rave, like always when this topic was earnestly discussed, was simply checked out. There was not a religious bone in her body. Hailey, also like always, played with the rose pendant around her neck while she listened to the Varnik’s sermons. In time, perhaps Lorelei would actually convert that one. Even if she did, Hailey would not change much. The enigma engineer was religious, but not greatly so.

Eliana seemed conflicted in her own right by the idea of elevating John further. If Moira had to hazard a guess, the dear broken angel did not mind idolizing him, but the spiritual language did not mesh with her. Though the Warden wished Eliana would see the golden light, she had come to accept that the trauma ran too deep to do anything more than keep a hand extended.

“He’s on his way,” Eliana suddenly said.

Senses sharpened by years of training, the Lady’s Blessing and the mark upon her womb, Moira still only picked up the steps approaching the tent four seconds later. Their level difference was not even that stark anymore, yet the hearing of the blood mage superseded hers by an impressive margin.

Moira’s heart did a little jump in her chest when he stepped in. Though he was plain, he was also the most handsome man in the world. Short brown hair, wise hazel eyes, and a figure that filled out his Lady-tailored suit perfectly. When his eyes drifted over them, they moved with a mixture of pride and humility, a paradoxical acknowledgement of what he had assembled and that being so much more than he deserved natively.

He took the time to lock eyes with each of them. The order didn’t matter. Moira had long since noticed that he never stuck to one. Just with his body language, he included all his women present into his life. It was one of his many talents that made being part of this sinful lifestyle so attractive.

“Ladies,” he greeted them in that smooth baritone of his.

Moira could not keep the swoon out of her voice. Something about her man was even more attractive than usual, like he had matured in the brief hours since they had last seen each other. “Hi, John. How was your day so far?”

“Aside from dealing with the sexist prince, pretty great,” he responded. “You are happy to see me today.”

“No, yes… shut up!” Moira never quite knew why she got this snappy and bashful around him, but at least the panic aspect of it all had been purged when she embraced her love for him in earnest. “It’s a stressful day.”

“Ah, Saint, your radiance shines ever brighter upon this unclean world,” Lorelei gasped.

Rave chuckled at the religious tone of the seer, but agreed with the sentiment. “Ya do look more balanced.”

“I had a little revelation when I talked to Stirwin earlier.” The blessed Gamer took a few strides through the room and brushed a lock of hair behind Eliana’s ear. “Re-aligned my internal expectations towards our future together. I will be the best father that I can be.”

“You’ll have to make up for my fudge-ups,” Eliana muttered, as she closed in for the kiss.

“You’ll be fine,” John assured, just before their lips formed a shared seal.

Moira’s heartbeat accelerated further. Jealousy and rage would have been the expected emotions when watching her partner kiss another woman. Neither were present. There was a little envy, certainly, the desire to have a kiss like that herself. That was the only negative emotion, scarcely noticeable in the vast ocean of appreciation she had for his smooth and masculine acts. When he straightened up again, he looked like he would bend the entire world to his and their whims – and he could do it too.

Without needing to utter a single sound, Moira was made subject to his approach. His sheer confidence startled a stupidly girly part of her. She took a half-step backwards, then readily yielded to the delightfully possessive way he put an arm around her armoured waist, getting pulled against his chest. “That has to be uncomfortable…” she muttered, blushing and turning her face just a bit away. He was too handsome to even look at. She hid her lips behind a raised hand.

“Nonsense,” he whispered back. His first kiss was put on her cheek. When he had moved her obstructing hand down, Moira didn’t even know. She had a tendency of getting swept up in his rhythm when love was involved.

When their lips met, she eagerly greeted his tongue with her own. There was a shamelessness to it all that she would have previously reserved for sapphic adventures caused by the Blessing’s drawback. Their lips made no complete seal, smacking as the heat of whirling tongues transferred saliva between them in a messy manner.

John stopped just before she could drool onto her ornate tabard. Left breathing heavily, Moira shuddered, then shook her head. She cleared her throat. She put just a little bit of distance between them. All of it was done to reclaim her stoic professionalism. His arm remained around her back. “I do love you,” she whispered, needing to say that while sound of mind. Her pride would not let all of her affections be reactions.

Not when she genuinely did love him.

She was never going to deny that again… outside of stammering banter anyhow.

“I love you too,” he whispered back.

“Ain’t one to interrupt usu’lly,” Hailey chimed into their moment, “but I think ya came here to tell us somethin’?”

“Yes.” With a sigh on his and a pout on Moira’s lips, John stepped away. “Everyone is ready. We can make the announcement now.”

Dread returned to Moira’s soul, making the roots of her hair tingle. Her hand clutched the pendant around her neck, the physical proof of her position. ‘Literally all of your ancestors also had husbands,’ she told herself. ‘Why are you getting this… oh, you know why, that’s a stupid argument to throw at yourself.’

“You look uncertain,” John pointed out.

He kept his tone neutral, but Moira sensed the disappointment beneath that mask. Expert as he was at hiding his true feelings, he both wore that veneer thinner around them and Moira had gotten quite good at reading his little tells. His eyes only ever wandered from their faces when he felt disappointed or guilty.

Seeing the hazel move to the side had Moira’s insides in a different kind of turmoil. She was uncertain, yes, and that was unbecoming of the Shield Warden. It was also unfair to him. Had she not made her choice already?

“I will do what I must,” she stated.

It was the wrong choice of words, it occurred to her only after she had spoken. John knew her too well to misunderstand. His eyes snapped back to hers, a knowing smile on his lips. “I know that you sacrificed the future you envisioned for yourself for us,” he said. “Just try to put faith in this other path that we walk together, okay?”

Moira could only nod, afraid she would choose the wrong words again. Nothing could express all the faith that she put in this blessed fate that the Lady had offered her.

John separated from her; his warmth immediately missed despite the layer of cloth and metal that had separated them. “This way,” he guided them, as if there was any doubt on where to go.

Moira walked by his right side, Rave by his left and the other three followed. There was a short scuffle about whether or not Eliana would come along. Hailey convinced her in one way or another.

The world narrowed down with every step. Moira embraced the change, the collapse of her field of view and the increased focus that came with it. Her mind was both racing and quiet, so much of her drifting to the background. She moved with disciplined, long strides. Her breathing was even. Years of training had prepared her for public speaking as much as combat.

She climbed the steps of the stage. The red wooden tiles layered atop the scaffolding laid the foundation of the appropriate set. Where it faced the public, the metal had been sprayed gold. Tall banners of their religious iconography waved in artificial winds, framing the stage. Behind her, a massive stained glass panel depicting a tower shield had been erected. To the cameras and the crowd, she looked like she stood before a great cathedral.

The cameras.

The crowd.

Before her was her flock. The faithful, the Abyssals that the Order’s conquest had brought to the Lady’s light, had come in the thousands. It was a massive crowd for the Abyss, especially given the suddenness of the announcement’s scheduling. Had it not been for the wedding, few would have come to watch their Warden confess her impurity. The ocean of faces before her was vast. Eyes shimmered with the sparkles of souls, each a mirror of the Lady’s making to reflect Moira’s inadequacy.

The only sounds to be heard were the footsteps of those women and that man behind her. Once they were in position, all was silent.

Moira lowered her gaze to the speech that had been placed on the podium ahead of time. It was a thick stack of paper, pages upon pages of history of the Order, personal excuses, and apologies. It was a document to her uncertainty.

She turned her head, beholding her man’s patient smile. Whatever she said, he would be there for her… but such trust should be rewarded, not exploited.

She had made her choice already.

Emerald eyes returned to the crowd. Lights on the cameras reminded her of the world beyond that was waiting for her words. All of the excuses she had written down, all the justifications, they all went ignored. There was only the truth and the truth was simple.

“I, Moira Brighton, Warden of the Shield branch of the Order of the Golden Rose, have ordained to take John Newman as my spouse. In this, the Lady’s world, our fates have become intertwined by our will. He is my man and I am his woman, eternal light as my witness.”

There was no power summoned forth, no begging for the Lady’s blessing for her words, just the words that rang out. The silence that followed was deafening. They all must have judged her, must have realized the sin associated with being a haremette. All the same, Moira stepped away from the podium, to show the certainty in her heart to the people that mattered the most.

Rave needed no convincing to be pulled over to where John stood. “Kiss him with me,” Moira whispered.

“Sure thing,” the feline Lightbearer responded with a huge smirk.

John followed their movements with delectable surprise on his carved features. His two women flanked him again, wrapping their arms around his chest. The crowd would judge her all the more for what she was about to do, but Moira would carry this burden. She had chosen imperfection. She had chosen her own joy over being a paragon. They were right to condemn her for it.

Just as her lips met the right cheek of the blessed Gamer, the crowd broke out into cheers.

It was so loud and so sudden that Moira’s head whipped around at it. People jumped out of their chairs, to add a standing ovation to the whistles and cries of a flock unified in joy. Nothing confused Moira more than this moment.

Hailey joined their hug, putting her chin between the ornate point of Moira’s pauldron and her face. “My paw-paw always said: ‘Only p’rfect thing is God, so cheer when the preacher owns up to flaws,’” she whispered.

Lorelei hugged the Warden from behind. “They’re your people, sacred Warden. They wish to see you happy as well.”

As if they had heard the seer’s words, the crowd’s jubilation reached its zenith in that moment. Unable to digest it all, Moira looked to John. He gave her a little shove towards the podium. “I think you have something more to say to them.”

Moira inhaled deeply. She returned to her position. “I… expected condemnation,” she confessed to the settling crowd. “This indulgence is not within our way… at least not according to the scriptures as of yet written. Do you truly trust my judgement that much? Perhaps you ought not to…” she swallowed back tears of joy, “…but I will carry it forward all the same. Thank you… and join me in prayer, for we are all unwise children beneath the Lady’s radiant light.”

The quiet that followed was one of shared faith and joy.