- here, and sheโd not give that up.
โ Youโre right. Iโm not. Nobody needs to know about this. And you? You donโt have to do anything. โ
Words that were practically like a blessing to Kitโs overcrowded, guilty mind. Release from responsibility, right from the source. Freedom.
- princessโ, โI have to stop the mad scientistโ, it was something different, something juicier.
The agentโs hips rocked side to side with ease, perhaps accustomed to too many rhythm game worlds. They swung like a pendulum, almost teasing her greed. She knew she was in control -
Miss Information saw what she was doing, and it was common in heroes. Rationalizing their actions to get ahead to their main goals. To understand how to get someone from Point A to B, you had to know these things too.
But this was different. Instead of, โI have to rescue the -
--
to rationalize these actions mostly to herself. Taking another greedy squeeze of her hips, slowly sliding her hands up and down the sides of her body.
โ So then, youโre looking to become a Pokรฉmon master, are you? But that damned champion is just too strong? โ
Info holds something that looks like an open-holed helmet with several bulb-like lights attached. An easy way to gain experience.
โ I think I can help with that. โ
- securely into the hold of her opposition. A hum of satisfaction arrived when she felt it so. Digits danced, curling, twirling, a brush against the bushy texture of her face each second, as though a platform for figure skating.
โ Perhaps not. I /am/ off duty. โ
Info was surprised. She didnโt think the Farcade operative had it in her. Always thought the likes of her were too strict, too stubborn, too foolish, motivated by revenge or something of the sortโnot considering her other feelings.
They both had duties, but they also had -
--
Kit would place her hands at either side of the blonde's hips. Drawing her closer ever more, until they were practically pressed up against each other.
". . .a momentary truce CAN'T be the end of the world, right?"
- desires, detached from their identities in the workplace if you could call it that. It felt sinful, but then again, so was her prolonged stay in the volleyball world. At some point, she just had to say to herself, โwhat the hellโ โ and go with it.
Her hips settled, wiggling -
โ Reconnaissance work is going well. I have to say, these Game Worlds are like nothing Iโve seen before. I think some of these heroes are certainly in need of a helping handโฆ โ
Miss Information steps onto the soil of a brand new planet, eyes privy for any more good guys.
Miss Information didnโt resist, if anything, that smile of hers reached a point where you wouldnโt think it could become any smugger. Her lips pursed, her arm extending, accompanying her curling hand to the base of the felineโs chin. It was held gently in an effortless grip. -
--
loud enough for them to hear.
Her tail now gently reaching to curl around Info's leg to draw her just that extra bit closer.
". . .No wonder you're his right hand. . .ya got me pretty good."
- Then, sheโd be able to feel a slight clench, lifting her head upwards to eye-length, relieving her of the action of having to look up herself. The agent, like she had with so many game characters before her, guided her choices.
โ If youโd like, โ She teased. โ You may -