"I think Nepemyu would be a great name!" Said Momma Neptune, whose arguments fell on deaf ears.

"Of course you'd think that," said Momma Blanc, "We can't go and name him something that'll just get changed across regions."

"Oh, Blanny, that doesn't matter, does it? It doesn't look like the Rat-Thingy-Guy has too many problems with it."

Mommas Vert and Noire are also here, and they're siding with Momma Blanc's opposition.

"Neptune," Momma Vert began, "I understand your reasoning, but isn't your suggestion a tad selfish? He's the son of all four of us, in case you've forgotten."

Momma Noire came in with a sashay to her stride and her arms crossed. "Yeah, Neptune. You don't see me calling him Pokénoir, do you?"

That'd just make me sound like Momma Blanc's joint venture... Oh crap. This discussion is getting too meta, even for this series.

"I feel it horribly archaic to name our son after one of those obsolete solid state memory drives." Momma Vert is getting incredibly technical about all this. "The implications of storage capacity measured in MB's are less than reassuring as they are without the standard for those being in the single digits."

"Yeah, but even if we put him in the gigas, there'll be problems if we don't present it right...," said Momma Noire, the last part of her sentence slowing to a murmur.

"Well if anyone knows how to screw up SSD's, it's you, Noire!" Momma Neptune pats her on the back, sounding a bit like she didn't know how much of a put down that was. "But that's really the problem with games these days. Everyone's just given up on cartridges that remember things on their own... Well except Blanc, of course."

"To hell with memory!" said Momma Blanc, who I hope is getting as tired of this discussion as I am. "What's important is software, and if we don't put some serious thought into that, then there's no way he'll survive!"

If it were that important, then it really should have come up earlier, don't you think?

My four mommas livened up Planeptune's Bascillicom with their heated discussion about the decision of my name. My input so far has been negligible, but I guess that's really the ultimate truth of all this isn't it? I should be happy that I attained some degree of worldly relevance by association with my mommas, but that's where all importance seems to end for me. Oh, well.

"Excuse me." A bit of nervous stuttering catches my ear. "I'm sorry, I've been wanting to get your attention for a while, but it's difficult when you don't really have a name yet."

To my left is tea tray carried by a long lavender haircut in the top half of a sailor uniform and striped thigh highs, all of which went unnoticed by me by the oppressive force of un-memorability. Perhaps it would more accurate just to call it a lack of any staying power, but most people just call her Nepgear, the CPU Candidate of Planeptune, and accepted younger sister of my Momma Neptune. And I guess makes her my aunty.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't notice you there," I sputter.

Speaking of not knowing what to call people, what do I call Nepgear? It feels wrong to call her "aunty," because she looks like such a younger girl. Although she is a goddess, and she looks older than Neptune, and I've her accepted as my mother. Come to think of it, I'm a beautiful shota-boy now, so why can't I call her my aunty?

"I don't think we've met yet. I'm Nepgear, the CPU candidate," she explains what I already know.

"I know who you are, Aunty Nepgear," I say, trying my best at a shotaro smile.

Her face lights up at that. It's too bad she's my aunty now. If I were this beautiful looking before I might've been able to seduce her. It probably wouldn't work out well for me, but I could at least try. I'm tempted to try it even now, but as much as the CPUs like to incest it up, I don't think Gamindustri is ready for an avunculate relationship. Maybe some day, we might live in a better, more accepting society, but until then—What the goodness am I going on about? No! Bad, whatever my name is going to be! Don't you dare think about seducing your aunty!

"Oh, wow. I didn't think I really get called that," Aunty Nepgear seems befuddled, which is cute NO!

"Well you're my Momma's sister," the sister of one of my mommas, rather, "so that makes you my Aunty!" I say, riding on the shotaro card as high as I can.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, um, Nephew." Aunty Nepgear tries her best to compose herself.

"You can just call me Nibling, if you want. It means about the same thing." Also, it's homophonous with nibbling, so we can pretend you want to chew me and have people look at you funny when you call me that.

"Oh? Okay, then I'll just call you Nibling!" she says, which makes me chuckle to hear. "I'm glad we settled what I'll call you so easily. It looks like my sister and the others are having a hard time of deciding on your name."

She looks over to my quarreling mommas, none of whom look like any progress has been made.

"Okay, so we've scratched out Nepemyu, Pokénoir, Yuemdee, Sram, Konpakku, and Rokkujuyonjibipakku," says Momma Neptune, who's holding a note pad that I see doesn't have anything actually written on it. "Blanc, I think you're the one that's coming up with the weirdest names for him."

"I only came up with that last one as joke, so clean the shit out of your ears!" Momma Blanc shouts.

I turn toward Aunty Nepgear, "I think they're having fun," I say.

"If you say so." She doesn't seem quite as sure as I am.

"Should we go somewhere else?" I ask because I'm half scared for my life, and half desperate to trigger an aunty x nephew skinship event.

"Don't worry. They're not going to fight in the game room. This is probably is the safest place to be right now."

I silently curse my rotten luck. I was hoping my mommas would fight so I could console in myself with Aunty Nepgear.

"Maybe we require a third opinion," said Momma Vert.

Another opinion in picking a name for me would be great. It's just too bad I can't be that other opinion.

"Nepgear, what would you name your nephew?"

Aunty Nepgear takes up a pondering posture with a finger under her chin. I'm still sore that they won't just let me keep my own name, but at least I get to fill my alliteration quota this way.

"Well, since he's supposed to be the son of all four of you, why shouldn't he be named Neppuburanowaber," she says, with absolute and total seriousness about her.

No one said a thing, and echos of Neppuburanowaber resonated in the game room.

"Is that a no?" she asks. "Neppuburanowaber, you know from the first couple syllables in everyone's names. It'd be easily translated across regions I think. Guys?"

My four mommas turned their backs to Nepgear and continued their debate. I stood up and walked to the opposite end of the room while trying my hardest to purge "Neppuburanowaber" from my memory.

"We wouldn't say the whole thing every time!" Aunty Nepgear, who I'm not ever sure should have that title, defends her suggestion instead of letting it die like the rest of us are content to do. "We could shorten it to Nepbu, or Bubu, or something. Everyone..."

Time moves on for all things, but Neppuburanowaber can disappear into the annals of history forevermore. So long, you ridiculous mess of seven syllables.

...

It's been hours, and with no consensus on my name in sight, my mommas went out on the town to see if inspiration is striking elsewhere. Whatever they choose, I can say with little doubt that it'll be better than the crime against pronunciation that was what Aunty Nepgear came up with earlier. If they some how do, I'd rather rip the skin off my silhouette and go back to being an NPC.

In the mean time, I've decided to console Aunty Nepgear because there's obviously something wrong with her that she can come up with such horror. Right now, I'm helping her assemble a model mech from a grab bag of parts.

"I didn't know you could put these together out of any number of parts like this," I say, finding my presence here a bit useless, but what else is new?

I'm a man (shota) in Gamindustri. We don't do much..., actually that's the whole reason I'm here, isn't it?

"Well, it's a lot more difficult making a custom mech without any blueprints, and the results aren't always great, but when they do end up nice they really shine," Aunty Nepgear herself is shining with all this talk of tabletop models. She's really putting herself into it. "And when I'm done, no one will think Neppubura Nowaber is a bad name. I'll show them. I'll show everyone!"

Aunty Nepgear should seek help, but she is right about one thing, that name fits a model robot a whole lot better than it'd ever fit me.

"You do that, Aunty Nepgear. I'm rooting for you." I'm rooting for you to hurry up and make the robot so we can put an end to using that name.

Aunty Nepgear is entering into some sort of zen state where her eyes are bugging out and her hands move with mechanical precision as she pieces together her stupidly named robot model. I take a step back because I think she'd snap my neck if I were to mess up her work in anyway.

As I distance myself, the sliding doors to the game room open. My mommas have returned, and Momma Neptune is the first of them inside, tackling me down with all the mighty force of a goddess momma. At least I think this is all the force a goddess momma has to offer. I'm not even sure what level she is right now.

"Oh, son o' mine (and Nepgear), I'm home, and I've got some super groovy news!" said Momma Neptune, pinning my back to the floor.

Aunty Nepgear turns to see us, "Wait, why was my name in parenthasies like that?" she asks as her hair whips and knocks over the yet completed model Neppubura Nowaber. "Oh no! Please let the pieces not be broken. Please let the glue not be in my hair!"

"Neptune!" That's my Momma Noire calling. "We told you not to run. You better not have told him without us!"

"Told me what? Do I have a name now?" I'm equal parts excited and in pain. Momma Neptune hits hard for such a tiny thing.

Momma Neptune sits up on my abdomen, which is something you really shouldn't do to your kids. It hurts.

"Well, kiddo, we went over to the local prison," Momma Neptune starts her story off with an alarming statement. "And while we were there, we decided to ask advice from a friend about your name."

Wait just a minute. If you four are the CPUs, how in the world could a friend of yours be in prison? Did they try and destroy the world or something, and if they did, why are you friends with them? I've so many more questions now.

"So we listened to her, I poked at her horn thingy a bit, and now we need to know what your favorite cat is, okay?"

"I like Folds, but what do cats have to do with anything?" I ask, and I think my question is a pertinent one.

"Well I think folding is cool, I'm not talking about doing laundry or light based weapons. What's your favorite kind of cat, and I mean the big ones that bite peoples heads off like panthers or jaguars."

I still don't see what the point of this is.

"I think tigers are cool," I say so because they are.

"Sounds good to me!" Momma Neptune shouts, popping up to her feet while I'm still on the floor. "Guys, we've got a winner, and it's a Tiger!"

"What?" I'm so confused.

"Okay, boyo, from that second a second ago into the future ever after, your name will be Tiger!"

And then I blink as the rest of my mommas come up to me with smiles and Aunty Nepgear crawls around in the background looking for the pieces to her robot.

...

And so, I was named Tiger, son of four CPUs... At least it's a better name than what Aunty Nepgear came up with.

And so our prince finally has a name of his own. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please leave a comment in the reviews. I simply love to hear from you all, so please allow for PMs to come to you. I like to reply to you guys when I can.