Writer's note: This is my first story, I hope y'all like it!
It kind of wrote itself, as I was playing the game. I hope it's not too juicy.
Review!
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Lilika knew that Kisala and Jaster would become an item. The numb-shit Japanese game designers always have the clueless underage girl as a love interest, and usually give her something phallic as a weapon. Like a staff.
Meanwhile… the strong women, your busty beautiful women, the Lulu and Quistis types -They get shafted. They are relegated to minor support roles and get to speak maybe three times. And they are a million times more useful than your average Yuna or Rinoa.
Lilika was determined not to let this happen. The writer of the fanfic was determined not to let this happen.
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She had wanted Jaster Rogue since they had first met. This might have had something to do with him saving her life and the life of her sister, repeatedly. She saw him, and it struck her as to how different he was. Especially compared to those pot-bellied villagers.
She was a strong woman. She had hunted beasts large and small for years, stalking silently and attacking swiftly. Her aim was true. She WAS the best hunter on Juraika. Until he came along…
Lilika was tired of the village men. They didn't interest her. Sure, some of them were skilled hunters. They had to be. But there was no man her equal, no man she could respect. They would make good husbands, but dull ones. The men she captured in raids were little better. Some were strong and handsome, but after she had beaten them senseless and tied them up, they became sniveling little whiners. They couldn't perform.
This man, this Jaster was different. He was strong and capable, and pretty cute, too. So what about Kisala? She didn't seem to be trying too hard. Some other guy will master "Fated Passion" with her and she'll end up pregnant in a month.
Plus, it's either Jaster or that idiot Jupis McTooki.
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Jaster Rogue opened the door to his private quarters.
He had just spent the last four hours in the sewers of Vedan, hacking and slashing the random beasts there to help take his mind off of things. Power-leveling usually helped, some; and Deego seemed to understand. The dog-man had his own problems with women.
He smelled garbage and fumes, the two predominant smells on Vedan. They came from him. He wanted nothing more than to collapse straight into his bunk, but first he needed a bath. He could smell himself, and the stink could kill a granshee. Given that they had one on board, that could present problems.
He turned on the tap, and stripped off his multi-layered desert gear. With the water on, he could not hear the sound of the outer cabin door opening, nor the stealthy footsteps past the insector cage and nightstand. Lilika was a Hunter after all; and hunters know how to stay quiet. She waited behind the closed bathroom door for the sound of him entering the shower.
After a while, she peeked in. The desert youth enjoyed the new sensations of showering with actual water, but had yet to discover the pleasures of a hot slow bath. There was little fogging in the shower enclosure as he soaped himself up. Lukewarm water, she guessed. Like a beast bathing in a stream. It excited her, the animal in him. This was not a soft villager!
Jaster Rogue was oblivious to her as washed his grimy muscular body. Layers of filth rinsed off of him, revealing lean muscles and tanned skin from growing up on a desert planet. He was a real hunter, not some punk bulls-eyeing womprats with a T-16 in Beggar's canyon. He had earned his keep.
His mind was on Kisala. He had been trying for days to unlock their special attack, Fated Passion- but none of the enemies dropped roses. Just smoked rainbow newts and those god-for-fucking Queen Bee Stingers. What the hell was he supposed do with a dozen foot-long bee stingers? This stupid revelation flow was driving him crazy.
He was horny. He couldn't help it, between the effects of Kisala's Star Charm, Lilika's half-naked warrior garb, and MIO the almighty underage cocktease. If MIO would move her hands an inch… Damn, that's a short skirt.
Hence the cold shower. He'd been surrounded by half-naked amazons and pointy eared hotties since the damn game started. He couldn't think for all the cell-shaded cleavage surrounding him. He was at level 52 and walking around with an upgraded Seven-Star sword, and still couldn't get laid! It was effecting his concentration in combat, and he knew it.
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Lilika quickly stole her hand away from her shorts and escaped the bathroom, before Jaster could step out of the shower and spot her. It would not do for her to spook the prey. He toweled off quickly, and pulled on his pajamas. They were actually one pajama, a tight fitting exercise jumpsuit that left his arms free for swinging his sword in practice, and ended well above the knees. It fit over his hard muscles like a glove.
After he was done zipping up the jumpsuit and had left the bathroom, Jaster finally saw her. She was leaning against the entryway, her generous figure intentionally in profile. She knew how it would look. Lilika couldn't help thinking about how inexperienced he still was, at least outside of combat. She could have killed him twice. Then again, she'd seen what he was capable of… A small shiver ran through her. She would settle for seduction.
--
He started a bit, then spoke to the smiling, silent figure in the doorway. "Have you been standing there the whole time?"
"Long enough" she replied, and gave a rare smile. It was both demure and mysterious. Her presence, demeanor, and unusual attire all threw him off balance. She was always so serious and hot tempered, girded for battle and comfortable only in combat. Seeing her in soft silks, with her long violet hair unbound and bereft of weapons, she was a different woman.
No, she was a woman to him for the first time, then. Before, she had still been female. But that Lilika was a tough and capable fighter who had a habit of throwing hatchets at him. They met the first time after killing a giant, mutated jungle frog. She was a tough and capable warrior, and he had never thought of her any other way.
He briefly admired what he saw. Her battle-ready bikini had been replaced by a softer halter top, thin material that clung to her very womanly shape like a second skin. Her loincloth had been replaced with silky drawstring shorts that clung to her buttocks and suggested nothing underneath.
Was this what she slept in? He never thought that adding more clothing could make a woman more beautiful. It was more than that, however. She was changed. Gone was the hard Amazon with a battlecry on her lips. Here stood a woman willowy and beautiful.