little thing I wrote for inspiration for a Thirsty Sword Lesbians character - "Compliant, Helpful, and Disposable"
CW - Threat of violence involving broken glass, actual violence involving swords
"Hahaha, excellent! Now, Mr Iridium, onto your flagship product, the JXS series. We're already seeing widespread market use, and we were wondering - what makes them special?"
The holo-screen's interview coverage glares an oversaturated blue, illuminating a dingy corner of the Starlight Keep Inn. Weaving between customers, a standardised, printed smile, plastered onto a standardised, printed face, atop a standardised, printed body of the JXS series waitress.
"Well. Well! My boy, there's three things that put the JXS series one step above the rest."
At the opposite corner, the same standardised, printed smile, oh so wishing it could scowl, rests behind a customised, hand-crafted mask.
"Number one - they're compliant."
The waitress, arms filled to the brim with drinks, smile not wavering for one second as the rowdy patrons grab their orders from her without a second thought, impatient to be served.
The masked figure, having already brushed off 4 attempts at 'flirting' tonight, brooding over a half-finished glass of something dark blue and rippling.
"Number two - they're helpful."
A glass, knocked off of a table with a belligerent cry, shatters into so many shards. In an instant, the waitress' drinks are atop a table, as she starts to clean up without a moment of hesitation.
In the confusion, the masked figure swipes an ID card carelessly left on a nearby table, copying the data to a digital store before returning it in one seamless motion.
"And number three, most innovative of all - they're disposable."
Grabbing the back of the waitress' hair, a patron who's had a bit too much to drink pushes her face towards the broken glass - not even this forces a reaction from her, or even breaks that smile for more than an imperceptible second. Yet, in an instant, the masked figure is on her feet, crimsonsteel edged sword piercing the patron's shoulder, as his hand slips from the waitress' head and he screeches in pain. The mask drops, the face behind it identical to that of the waitress, save an anger burning through standardised, printed eyes, lingering on the sobbing patron for a second more, before Jess storms out through the rusted metal doors.
The waitress picks up the mask. And continues cleaning the floor.
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Em thấy gì trong đôi mắt kẻ si tình?
Một tấm chân tình hay một đời dang dở..
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