For all the woes that John had about his own infrastructure, it was pleasant to know that he was not the only one.
Abyssal Prague had been erected well before even the conception of airplanes as a physical possibility. Consequently, there was no strip for the rather large machine to land on, not even an improvised one. The first answer to the issue was that they could just land at the mundane airport. The Mobile Barrier would take care of the lack of facilities.
The mundanes, however, had made the rather botherso decision to build their airport underneath the Abyssal barrier. Mobile Barriers could be prevented from lding with stationary barriers, but that took energy and then it took even more energy to keep the two barriers separated. Consequently, the erection of an Abyssal airport outside city bounds had been commissioned so ti ago but, like most governnt projects in large, particularly multi-ethnic, semi-feudal empires, the money and progress had gotten lost over the years.
It went sothing like this: the Romans told the Austrians to tell the Czech to build the airport. The Czech had to clear it with the nobles, equal parts Czech, German, and Hungarian in origin, who the land belonged to and they also had to secure funding from either the governing marquise of Czechia or the Austrian crown directly. The forr reported to the latter anyway, but also had their own treasury. The latter did not deal with matters of money moving regularly and thus would put that onto their financier. There was also the matter of how much the greater whole of Rex Germaniae should be involved in the process and…
The point was that the nightmare of modern bureaucracy was not that terribly different from the ss of new and old blood owning soil in previous systems. In every system, everyone wanted sothing and few people were willing to put in the work to get it, at worst, or just uncertain on who had to actually do it, at best.
Which led to the amusing situation that the Wings of Duty landed at an airport that, after 14 years of construction, had suddenly been built in 2 months. Not as impressive as the Mandate of Heaven stomping an airport out of nothing in a few days, but still pretty good.
As Aclysia had the plane roll out the remaining montum, John and his harem were putting on their clothes.
John was so happy that he was a man in these monts. Putting on a suit was a swift affair, giving him ample ti to sit there and watch his girls go through the selection of dresses, shirts, pants and skirts that the maids had piled up in the closets of the airplane.
‘That must have taken her hours,’ he thought and sent a ntal appreciation call to his primary housekeeper. A flood of pink delight ca back. A wonderful backdrop to the scene of clothes being considered, comnts exchanged, and items chosen. It wasn’t as much of a playful back and forth as there had been the other day.
“Hey, tiger, do these pants make my ass look fat?”
The question made John’s attention shift from the scene at large to his girlfriend in particular. Wearing naught but a pair of tight, black pants, she was the very image of his dream woman. The sportsy fabric clung to her like a second skin. Pink swirls perfectly underlined the shape of her calves, knees, the depressions of her thighs and, most importantly, the curvature of her ass and hips. Her immaculate behind was frad in pink, then further emphasized by the creases its size naturally created.
“Hm.” John pondered and got up. Rubbing his chin with one hand, he gave her ass a quick squeeze test. Then, he squatted down, delivered a mild swat, and watched the jiggle. The pants added so firmness to it all, making the settling of the twin mounds a swifter affair than usual. Then, kneading the magnificent derriere with both hands, he delivered his verdict, “Yes.”
“Perfect,” Rave purred and, after short deliberation, grabbed a white blouse. It was just her favourite piece for most official events. For the really fancy events, she did have her dresses, but this was not one of those. “Ya gotta let go soon.”
“Soon is not now.”
_____________________________________________________________________
John descended the steps of the airplane stairs carefully. A crowd of reporters had gathered up, larger than what he was used to, but not as large as he had seen before. There were almost a hundred of them, a colourful gathering of various races that represented organizations from all over the world.
The Gar still had an intense dislike for journalists and their organizations. Most of these news crews were the nice public face for the kind of guild that made their living selling intel on the Abyss Auction. At best they were selling a version of reality that catered to their readers and at worst they were sucking every penny out of his private life that they could.
One unsteady step down these stairs and he would have headlines about it everywhere within 20 minutes.
John arrived at the bottom of the stairs without incident. The crowd of journalists was about to descend on him. Just as their feet touched the red carpet, the two so different yet similar figures of Beatrice and Ehtra landed between their Master and the eager news crews. Feathered wings of grey tal and white, electrified mbranes of draconic wings stretched to form an impassable barrier. If that hadn't been deterrent enough, tra landing a mont later certainly was.
“Do keep your distance,” Aclysia warned, from the top of the stairs. Next to her, holding a parasol above her head, stood Claire. Where the head maid kept her body language graceful and even, Claire retained the brutal disdain she had for any annoyance for her beloved. Red eyes glowed sinister in the shade of her sun-cover.
The journalists backed off. The duo folded their wings. The rest of the harem descended the steps.
First was Rave, of course. The First Lady of Fusion smiled for the caras, then smiled a little wider when her man greeted her with a ready arm. She nuzzled up against him and they exchanged their first kiss of the trip.
Next was Momo. Skipping down the steps with the ease of fae wings, the chancellor of Fusion landed next to John on the left. By position, she got the ‘honour’ to claim his side during these public displays. “Can we make this quick?” she whispered, her wings trembling uncomfortably. Even if she had beaten the fear of it, public attention was still sothing she liked to avoid.
“We’ll try,” John promised and kissed her on the forehead.
Descending half in the air and half on foot ca the elentals. Gno at the head, Undine right behind her, with Salamander and Sylph curving through the air. Once they were at the bottom of the stairs, Siena rose from the leader’s shadows. All of them wore flowing sumr dresses, elaborate but not overly ornate.
Annoyed more than anything else, Scarlett walked down the stairs. The redhead did not even pretend to care for the journalists, instead hanging onto her phone and barking so business orders into the microphone. In her own suit, she was a heavy contrast to the woman in the ash-coloured dress behind her. Lorelei had her hands folded in front of her and walked with such utter feminine grace that John noticed a temporary halt in the click of the caras. The people were just that entranced.
Lee used that mont to hurry down the steps behind them, slipping into the crowd of harettes unseen. “Sneaky little thing,” John complinted her, when she stopped behind him.
“I’ve put so points in it,” the gar girl answered.
“You need more,” Nia pointed out. The blonde had just appeared next to them – a fact that made no one around jump. No one on the red carpet, anyway.
“Don’t compare to you, that’s unfair.”
“Life isn’t fair,” Nia stated, rembering to add a disarming smile.
Hailey was next to step out. The country gal was in the kind of clothes that she had worn before eting John. That was to say, she wore stuff that was as modest as it could be in hot weather. A tank top and a pair of practical, loose jeans. The outfit was as simple as it was alluring, showing just enough to guide the imagination without giving everything away.
Delicia, wearing her maid outfit (as did all the other maids), had no such things to hide. The shortstack went down the stairs, her huge knockers bouncing inside the confines of the chest piece of the white-black uniform. After jumping down the last three steps at once, she put her hands on her hips and inhaled deeply. “Ah, ho sweet ho!”
“We’re two countries away from your ho,” John told her.
“It’s close enough!”
Last, John stepped out with his second body and wandered down the stairs with Aclysia and Claire. The two maids smiled elegantly, as they descended the steps. The crowd of harettes put themselves in a photogenic assortnt. Playing limited ball with the press was, ultimately, beneficial.
Ehtra took a step back, Aclysia three steps forward. Together with her twin, the first maid flanked John, forming a formidable wall against unwanted forwardness with their presence alone. Now that they both could project their emotions in an actual, tangible fashion, it was more effective than ever – although arguably still less than their combined reputation.
“Mister President, what do you have to say about the recent demise of Josef ngele?” the first question ca flying his way.
“Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person,” John answered plainly. “Next question.”
“There are rumours floating about that you killed him.”
“Does not surprise .” John waved off. “Next question.”
“If you were to kill ngele, how would you have do-“ The reporter asking the question stopped instantly when the combined ire of Aclysia and Beatrice crashed down on her.
“I have given all the public statents I want to on the matter of the Purest Front,” the Gar broke the ensuing silence, his tone devoid of all the frustration he expressed through his maids. Only charming ambivalence was left in its place. “Please, I’m here to attend my best friend’s wedding. Let us talk about pleasant things.” ‘Not that ngele’s death wasn’t pleasant,’ he added in his mind.
Questions from there pivoted to dull things. John’s opinions on the current state of the Token, Fusion’s expansion and newly acquired seat, the rumours that he had established a Kingdom connection in his Mine, and all of that.
John did as politicians do and used a lot of words to say very little, especially about that last bit. The kobolds that had been advertised in the Building upgrade had been sighted here and there, but John had not actually made contact with them yet. He had left it to the trusted core of miners that he had under contract to do so scouting before he spent hours upon hours trying to find an entrance.
Similarly, he had not yet placed the outpost. He simply did not have the ti to go through the potential negotiations while also doing all of the things he was expected to do as head of state at the mont and keep his love life running at the usual pace. He had to attend sessions of parliant and its two constituent houses, engage in private talks, do paperwork, and attend all manner of public events.
Getting his face out there was important, especially since he was going to be absent again soon enough.
The interview session ended with the sight of another plane closing in on one of the airstrips. Lydia’s vessel, John was certain. Under other circumstances, he would have gotten ahead of the crowd and greeted the queen himself. Today was one of the few occurrences where he should and did prioritize soone else over one of his won.
Following the red carpet, the Gar and his harettes made their way away from the reporters and to the resplendent welcoming committee. The carpet eventually split in two, white marble visible between the dyed pathways of red, rolling out the Austrian flag in front of them.
At the end of it, before a large water fountain of gold-trimd marble, stood Maximillian. Cocky as ever, he had one hand on his hip, while the other arm was hidden by the royal red and white cape that laid over his shoulders. Underneath he wore a suit of gold and black, a pin depicting a stylized eagle attached to his breast pocket.
“Welco to my humble abode!” Maximillian shouted. On cue, Hawlper rose from the water fountain, drawing a sphere of crystal-clear liquid behind it. The sapient black hole released its influence, causing the water to splash into the basin behind the king. Drops of water froze all around him, their montum expertly halted by first counteracting with manipulated gravity and then dropping the pull of mass altogether.
“There is never anything humble about you!” John shouted in a way that no one but good friends were allowed to shout at each other. “You’re the face of drama!”
“And you’re the face of ruining fun tis!” Maximillian shouted back.
The two n did not say anything else, while John crossed the distance with long, hurried strides. They shook hands, not with the grace of two rulers, but with the resounding clap of friends that hadn’t seen each other in too long. Hands raised to their shoulders, their palms t, their fingers clasped down, and their wrists turned, pulling them towards each other. Entering a half-embrace, they patted each other’s back.
“Good to see you, buddy,” John stated.
“Sa,” Maximillian answered and they separated again. “What kind of upgrade did you pick up this ti? Because I don’t rember you being this hale.”
“Funny, that was the na of one of them, although the last Perk was called Herculean.”
“Yeah, you’re not that big.”
“The girls love it anyways.”
“I’m sure they do.” Maximillian tilted his head to the side and John glanced over his shoulder. Behind him, his harem was interacting with Maximillian’s. There was an enormous size difference, the nearly twenty girls that John had brought along forming a half-circle around Irielz, Laralia, and Alice.
“Are you an official thing?” the Gar asked quietly, gesturing with his head at the first Maiden of Null.
“We are sothing,” Maximillian answered with a shrug.
“I’m putting off the talk,” Alice stated, suddenly standing next to the two of them.
After all his ti with Nia, this kind of shenanigan no longer spooked him. Neither did it work on Maximillian. “Alice, we’re having the guy talk right now.”
The Red Maiden tilted her head and smiled. The dark-haired woman took a large step back, did a curtsy in her impossibly white dress, and disappeared back to the other crowd. “She’s gotten paler,” John noted.
“Is that a surprise? The sun here isn’t half as rciless as Florida.”
“No, just interesting to note.” John rolled his shoulder. He looked around. “No larger welcoming committee? I expected you to put up at least an orchestra.”
“They were delayed,” Maximillian said with a long sigh. He wasn’t kidding.
‘To be fair, neither was I,’ John thought. “You know you’re getting married in a few days, right?”
“Buddy, I haven’t managed to get that out of my mind for the last fourteen days.” The king shifted about where he stood, looking at his wife-to-be with equal parts nervousness and anticipation.
As a recently engaged man, John understood fully. He chuckled suddenly and explained when Maximillian sent him a glance, “You know how n prop each other up by saying ‘the worst she can say is no’? And then, if you’re normal, you eventually find out there’s a whole cascade of worse things won can say to annihilate your confidence… and now it kind of loops back around to being true anyway.”
“Yeah, thanks, buddy, that’s what I needed to hear.”
John just laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder. His tone had been too dry to be taken as genuine worry that Irielz would say no. The succubus strutted over at the sa ti. Short and busty, the light-grey skinned woman in her almost traditional dress, as black and gold as her husband-to-be’s suit, was a sight and a half.
“Not to interrupt your bromance or anything,” she said, dark lips spread in a teasing smile, “but we do have more guests to welco.”
“As per usual, my fiancée is right,” Maximillian stated. “One of my servants is waiting by the exit. They’ll make sure you are accommodated. You just need to sign the contract to put your teleporter down.”
“Alright,” John said with a smile. “Am I the first arrival, by the way?”
“Second,” Maximillian answered. “The Magus family got here before you.”
That was expected and yet not.
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