The squad dormitory is empty save for you, laying on your bunk rather than contemplating the half-written letter at the nearby double-desk. Your mind going in the same slow circles it's been doing all afternoon.
Raoul…
Even as the last rays of the sun begin to fuzz and fade away into twilight you imagine that you can still feel a faint tingle on your lips. A spur of the moment choice that had opened you up in ways you never expected it could.
The cool wind of late summer carrying the first tang of the coming fall, the growling of motors as the rest of the squad brought in their mecha, servos whirring as they lowered the legs into park positions. He still looked handsome, even covered in sweat and with a streak of grease down one cheek, that little smile made your heart beat painfully, and when his eyes turned to you and the smile only grew…
"I don't regret it… I
don't." You snarl in the semidarkness.
You leaned in, grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss. It was clumsy and hot and you both stank of paint and oil and hot metal but it was so damn satisfying to pull back a minute later and see awe
on his face before confusion overtook it.
You wish you'd held it for just a moment longer, so you wouldn't have had to see that single instant of sharp and savage hurt in Julienne's eyes when she came around the corner and saw you standing so close to each other.
You wish…
No, you can only hold that selfish thought for a few moments before comes apart in your head. You know that you and she aren't the only ones holding torches for the lone boy in your squad and you
don't want to hurt the squad like that-, honesty makes you hesitate and rewind that thought, coming up with something more real. You don't want to hurt your
friends like that. Maybe it's because Raoul definitely isn't the only one in the squad you're attracted to. Even when the entire rest of your squad is girls well…
Ever since the first group shower you haven't been able to ignore the fact that you like girls
too. Though maybe you hadn't realized just how much until that look of sadness hit you harder than any of Major Pierette's punches during melee training.
Can I be proud of my actions and regret them at the same time?
Yesterday, the question would have had you shaking your head at the stupidity of it. Of course you couldn't.
Right now, you wanted to punch the hypothetical 'you' of yesterday in the teeth.
I need to fix this.
You like Raoul, hell, you'd say it goes a bit deeper than 'like', even if you don't know if it goes all the way to
L'Amour yet, but you also like the rest of the girls in your squad, and more importantly, you've seen how they all look at him, even if he's too dense to notice it.
Hell, if you went to him tomorrow and dismissed the kiss you gave him as something unthinking in the heat of the moment he'd probably accept it. If you gave him a day to try and rationalize it after that he'd probably convince himself that you'd knocked your head getting out of the
Vouivre and had stumbled into the kiss on total accident or something and
that makes you clench your fists in frustration-!
Calm down, deep breaths, okay, so I don't want to give him up, but I don't want to have him at the expense of everyone else. The thought of 'catching' him only to drive the rest of the squad away gives you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach.
So what do I do?
Circling around again to the question you started with. You like Raoul, you also like the girls in your squad, the girls in your squad like Raoul, though you're
pretty sure that at least a couple of them are like you as well.
It would be easier if we could just share him somehow-.
Your train of thought screeches to a halt.
'No.' 'But it-!' 'No.' 'You would have a chance to get with-,' 'I said NO.'
And your brain, treacherously reasonable as ever, asks you,
'why not?'
The devil of it is, you can think of a lot of reasons why it might not work. Raoul in his eternal frustrating density would almost certainly object to the notion out of some misguided belief that he isn't interesting enough to warrant such attention, the other girls might refuse the idea or try to get ahead at the expense of the others. You all need to be able to work together on the battlefield to stay alive and the collateral damage if this all went up in flames could easily tear the entire squad apart.
But if you can pull it off…
You are very aware of how greedy you feel, coveting not just one boyfriend but six girlfriends alongside him, and yet the thoughts of what could be if it all works out are
seductive to say the least.
There's a war coming soon… For all I know we might all be dead within a year.
You might die hating each other, you might die loving each other, the battlefield that kills you won't care.
So why not take a chance?
Rather than dignify yourself with an answer when the smug bitch already knows she's won, you swing your legs over the side of your bunk and hop down, smoothing your uniform shirt before pulling on your jacket overtop, adjusting it in the mirror as your eyes drift over the stitching of
your nametag.
-------
[ ] You are
Jacqueline Dupont (The Oujo)
Your mother and grandmother both served in the Mortenaise
Dragon corps of the great war, the latter in as a mechanic and servicewoman, the former as a loader and gunner on the battlefield. They aren't
famous exactly, but they're well known amongst those still serving, not that you make efforts to advertise that when you can avoid it. Still, what they taught you has served you well in the academy so far, placing you at the top of the squad in academics.
[ ] You are
Emilie Marseille (The Heart)
Your parents didn't entirely approve of you going into the military, your father having seen firsthand the blood and death of the Great War's battlefields as an infantry grunt, but your grandparents working back home became caught up in some of the more romantic notions of Mecha piloting that the military press encouraged. With their help, you convinced your mother that you'd be safe enough for her to give her reluctant permission, and with that and some physical tests you were off to the academy. It's been tough, and you get the feeling it isn't going to be anything like the old newscasts said, but there isn't much you'd trade this life for.
[ ] You are
Petra Braun (The Troubled Girl)
Your parents fled from Plötzalle to Mortenne near the end of The Last War. Between everything they'd lost in the fighting and the depression that followed the conflict they had little time to themselves but eventually they got themselves enough stability for your father to get your mother pregnant and roughly five years after they arrived, you were born. You grew up poor and expected to work young. Initially you helped make ends meet by tinkering, repairing cast-out electronics and selling them before expanding to selling the repair service itself. Even with a moderately successful business going though, the military still paid far better, so you applied to the Mecha corps expecting to end up as a technician. Instead, you ended up as a pilot, and while many of your fellow trainees can be uncertain or even hostile due to your foreign looks and inherited accent your squad accepts you, which is more than enough for now.
-------
A glance at the clock tells you that your free time is five minutes from ending and you hurriedly straighten your uniform jacket, casting a longing glance at the unwritten letter. Barely two lines put to paper before you'd become lost in thought while the others trickled out. Raoul had lingered the longest, looking like he wanted to say something, but you'd avoided his gaze, realizing more and more that you had no idea how to respond.
He's probably drawn bad conclusions from that but for once you think that might be a good thing. Another glance at the clock,
two minutes, you give yourself one last once-over in the mirror and make for the door just in time for it to open while you're reaching for the knob. "It's almost supper call, are you okay?"
Grace, one of the foreign transfers in your trainee squad, looks at you across the threshold, mild curiosity turning to concern as you hesitate for a moment. "I'm fine," you brush it off. The Anglian girl frowns at you, and you can practically see her weighing the benefits and drawbacks of pressing further in her mind. "I'm
fine."
While you can see your insistent tone doesn't convince her, she shrugs. "Come on then, you know they'll want us all in the mess on the hour." Tonight is a little freer than most, a good meal to celebrate the success of your first major field exercise. Normally your squad would be sat together, but for tonight the only restriction is that trainees can't sit at the officers' table unless invited. When you arrive Raoul is already gravitating towards what appears to be an unofficial 'Boys Table' where the male trainees are taking advantage of the relaxed seating to spend some time amongst their own gender, but the rest of the squad all look like they might have some room.
-------
Who do you sit with?
[ ] Julienne looks like she's still hurting a bit, you don't know if she'll talk to you this soon but maybe it's worth a try?
[ ] Grace and Linette are talking through their highlights from the battle and you could really use a distraction from the inside of your head right now.
[ ] Elizabeth looks like she's sitting alone, might be a chance to get to know her a little better. Worst case scenario, dinner with a cute girl?
=][=][=][=][=][=][=
A/N: A quest in which you get to try and coordinate/seduce a bunch of girls who all want the same boy into a functioning and stable -or as stable as such a thing can get- relationship with both him and each other. There are no dice and no mechanics*, just your wits, your harem-management skills, and my appetite for wholesome polyamory.
*I may include a stress meter if I deem it necessary.
