Of course it is. What would I gain from lying to you?
[ he's not "cleaning the rust" off her circuits. with each tiny step, he's exploring the closed pathways, feeling out just how wide they can go. he's finding out just how far he can go, how far she can come as a mage-
with a bit of help, of course. ]
You're doing so well. [ his voice is gentle. there's a smile on his face, even as he delivers half-lies and sincerity for her. and the whole while, his eyes remain closed. ] Don't worry, Master. You're a natural.
[ the hand at her stomach pauses - dwells a bit longer, traces idle circles with perfect, slender fingers. ]
[ Ai chokes on a breath that sharpens into a whine. That stretch-stretch-stretch sensation is back and even worse than before. She remembers, suddenly and sharply, one of her early dance lessons with B-Komachi where the instructor had told them all how they needed to be flexible and she'd picked out Ai to demonstrate stretches to try because she was the stiffest and she'd needed the most practice and she'd had Ai do some horrible contortion that involved spreading her legs and going belly down on the floor and when Ai couldn't make it all the way, she had pressed down on Ai's back and pushed and she had been suddenly, terrifyingly aware of the limits of her own body and her muscles had protested but they had stretched and stretched even as she panicked and said waitwaitwait and nobody had listened and she had managed it but she'd been so scared that her body was going to buckle and give and she realizes that same plea is coming out of her mouth now waitwaitwait please she can't go that far it doesn't hurt but wait please it's too much it's
spark. flare. it's impossible to tell how many there are. there's too many. there's too few. how many should there be? five, ten, a hundred, one thousand? as many as you want, as many as you need, she lies until things come true so why shouldn't it be the same for this as well?
her hands curl into fists at his back and her voice comes out in a cry. ]
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[ he's not "cleaning the rust" off her circuits. with each tiny step, he's exploring the closed pathways, feeling out just how wide they can go. he's finding out just how far he can go, how far she can come as a mage-
with a bit of help, of course. ]
You're doing so well. [ his voice is gentle. there's a smile on his face, even as he delivers half-lies and sincerity for her. and the whole while, his eyes remain closed. ] Don't worry, Master. You're a natural.
[ the hand at her stomach pauses - dwells a bit longer, traces idle circles with perfect, slender fingers. ]
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spark. flare. it's impossible to tell how many there are. there's too many. there's too few. how many should there be? five, ten, a hundred, one thousand? as many as you want, as many as you need, she lies until things come true so why shouldn't it be the same for this as well?
her hands curl into fists at his back and her voice comes out in a cry. ]
Wait— Oberon, wait—! I can't, I can't, I'm not—