Tits: Meeting Olympia
Racer2 Oct 22nd, 2019 82 Never
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- The door says “R&D” on it, which sounds like something that needs looting... or investigating at least. It’s almost surprising when the door actually slides open at your approach, admitting you into a dark room illuminated entirely by holographic boards affixed to three walls, alight with information about the ship outside. You immediately recognize technical readouts, displaying data on every aspect of the ship from its engines to its electrical distribution. This isn’t just a foreman’s office, but like the door said, this is where this ship was designed. No doubt about it.
- “Something catch your eye?” a voice says from deeper in the room.
- You whirl around as a woman steps out of the shadows, a tall titan that at first glance seems to be a gryvain, until you notice the distinct lack of wings. Otherwise, though, she’s the spitting image of one: reddish-brown skin and dark green hair spilling down her shoulders in thick curls; frilled ears; and great bone horns growing from her brow and sweeping back across her scalp.
- Her amber eyes catch your attention, though, choking off your reply as you realize they’re glowing. They must be artificial... as is the rest of her, you realize; she’s too smooth and flawless to be anything but a synthetic. Despite this, she’s wearing a calf-length white coat over her otherwise bare upper body, only buttoned once just below her quite hefty bust as to leave plenty of dark cleavage and belly bare.
- “You must be new,” she continues. “I’m Olympia. Doctor Tyraal’s assistant. Hmm. That lack of recognition in your eyes is rather troubling. More than new, then. Not a pirate at all?”
- Uh oh.
- While that sort of reaction has usually led to conflict, the gynoid punctuates that hypothesis with a blase shrug. “I guess it doesn’t matter. Excuse me.”
- She brushes past you to one of the holoboards, bending over to edit one of the graphs on it - and blithely showing off a hell of a lot of silicone-laden ass hanging bare on either side of a simple black tanga under her coat’s tails. It does nothing to hide the prominent bulge thrusting up from her crotch. “I was programmed for starship design and mechanical engineering, not security. Don’t interfere with my work and we won’t have a problem.”
- O-okay then. Guess that could have gone worse...
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