View source for 2022-03-14: Between A President and a Princess?

*'''Log: 2022-03-14: Between A President and a Princess?'''
*'''Cast:''' [[Character :: C.C.]], [[Character :: Emilia Eschonbach]], [[Character :: Milly Ashford]]
*'''Where:''' Ashford Academy, Nagoya, Area 11
*'''OOC - IC Date:''' March 14, UC0096
*'''Summary''': ''An exchange student from Zaftra has decided to donate some old clothes to the fantasy seduction. Milly has decided to finish her inspection. Emilia was just try9ng to wait out Spring Break. Nobles ensue.''
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 <Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
<poem>
The Fantasy Seduction Club...the most infamous of all clubs in Ashford Academy. Mysterious yet ostentatious. Elusive but always making its presence known. It's a decadent slice of indulgence in a flagrant occupation zone, carefree to the sheer brashness of its own existence.

C.C. has to know more.

She's been playing the role of a student here specifically...largely to make it a bit less suspicious when she meanders on over to Lelouch's dorm each day - though she could certainly get in there undetected if it was less of a bother. Wear the right uniform and walk like you belong somewhere, though, and most assume you do.

Even though it's spring break, the specific room the club meets in remains the easiest space to unwind and cut loose. It's a privacy thing in essence. ...Private until C.C. plainly knocks on the door as a moment's courtesy, before helping herself inside, carrying a long, flat bag over one shoulder. She calls out - "So I heard this is where the revered cosplay club is...I've got something oh so important for your purposes, you know..." She waggles that bag mysteriously, a slight fluffy rustling from within. Already teasing the teasers!
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
<poem>

        Cut loose is a term for it.

        Admittedly Emilia's main use for the club room right now is: Not be in her dorm room. She has no work today, and she's saving for a short shopping trip if she can manage it, so being on campus is the best result.

        So right now she is... looking at the maid outfits, and trying them by holding the hangar up to her body in front a mirror. The traditional, tasteful long sleeve, long skirt. The full french maid, the cutesy look, the sexy look... She sighs. "....They're all so much better quality..." She mumbles, before starting to hang them up, only to be startled by the sudden arrival of a green haired student she's never seen before, and dropping the long skirt maid on the floor and inwardly cursing herself for being a clumsy idiot. She swept the floor so if she's lucky there's no dust, she can maybe get away with just an ironing. Quietly, she sets it aside on a separate rack, to finally look at C.C. and her bag of wonders.

        "Did you have a donation for the club?" She asks, a little nervously. New person. Barging into the safety of the club room. High energy. "I... think I can take those, and the president can evaluate them after spring break. But we're not a cosplay club exactly." She pauses. "I mean, there is cosplay but it's not the primary purpose, there's other components to the club..."

        She's not doing a good job of this, is she? The president would be disappointed in her, surely...
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
<poem>
Strictly speaking, Milly's association with the Fantasy Seduction Club is historical and has been fully overridden by her Student Council commitments for years now. ... She still likes to peek in every now and again. Besides -- she never actually finished the room check she was supposed to do, because she ... started talking with Emilia.

Milly sees the door open, and a new student slip inside. It's not long before &#42;she&#42;, too, slips inside, with a big smirk on her face. "They've got just you holding down the fort again, huh?" she asks Emilia, before turning her attention to C.C. "You're..." She blinks. She's not actually aware of C.C. "... Oh, are you coming in this year?"

There's a few moments where she taps her chin, thinking about something... but eventually settles for a, "Welcome to Ashford! I'll be your class president... until I decide to pass exams. This place just couldn't get on without me~"

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
<poem>
Ziiiiiiiip.

C.C.'s Mysterious Bag With Coat Hanger gets deposited on a nearby knob, and, once Milly enters, she unfurls its outer shell like a succulent banana peeling away. ...Unveiled is what can only be described as centuries old high fashion, something shockingly racy and revealing for having the flourishes of the industrial revolution. A dress that's just poofy and lacy enough near the hips to be formal, and just low-cut enough to be unthinkable. It's not made of something cheap, either - it all seems genuinely handmade and woven in intricate, coordinating patterns of dark red and light cream.

"It's something I no longer have use for," C.C. says haughtily and casually. "It always fit me poorly. Much too tight around the hips and much too loose around the top." -of course it's those things. She's eying Emilia carefully, and seems satisfied that she's found at least one better recipient in this room.

Then Milly gets her attention with a whirl of green from her twisting around, and a sly little smile crosses her. "Indeed, I'm a transfer from Zaftra. My name is Cyzarine, it's a pleasure to meet you. ...ah. Are you implying that...you failed exams on purpose? For the sake of...retaining your role as class president?" Immediately divined. That baleful gaze narrows juuuuust a bit judgmentally at Milly. The fancy dress, the lofty name, this quickly straightforward demeanor...it's an almost imposingly royal presence she immediately gives off.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
<poem>

        Emilia's eyes widen at the dress being revealed. It may arguably be the most expensive and elegant dress she has ever seen in person. Elegant, yet seductive, yet...

        Emilia may not have other words, but she walks very slowly and carefully towards C.C., wanting a closer look yet being scared to get too close or touch it. What if she damaged it? Or worse."...It's beautiful," she comments before looking up at C.C. "Are you sure you want to donate it? I think the club president would love it, but I..." She pauses, trying to muster the words. "I'm a first year, I'm not sure I should be entrusted with it." Can be trusted with it.

        Milly pushes in, as she does, "O-oh, no, Miss President. I was just..." She pauses. Just what? Hiding out in the club room alone? Still, the green haired woman speaks up. Cyzarine, hm? She seems like an upperclassman, and is... intense. She feels like there's going to be a clash of two very forceful personalities. Which is scary in and of itself. She takes ah step or two back, looking nervously between the two. She's not sure she wants to see what happens when Milly clashes with this woman who might be a terrifying princess.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
<poem>
Ah, oblique bragging. Milly immediately clocks the kind of person 'Cyzarine' is pretending to be -- though she doesn't seem even a bit unseated by the implied judgment. "Hmm, I wonder," Milly says, at the question of whether she failed her exams to remain 'Miss Prez.' "Nice to meet you, Cyzarine! I hope we have a great year together."

She decides to put the thumbscrews to her a tiny bit. "Are you here to look for a club to join? You've got a month once class starts, but every student has to be a part of a club. Student Council counts, but &#42;that&#42; ship is sailing fast." ... Milly, it's because you're holding down the spots.

Then, to Emilia: "Relax, I don't bite. I'm especially not going to bite new students." She gives a wink, then: "I can process club memberships over break, and Emilia can handle the dress donation." She knows Emilia just said she shouldn't do it -- which is, of course, exactly why Milly's insisting she does.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
<poem>
There's that faintest hint of a little spark of electricity going off when C.C. locks eyes with Milly. A burgeoning rivalry of some sort!? That cheery demeanor belying an adeptness at wielding the reigns of one's heart...it can't help but stoke just a bit of a petty fire in C.C.'s heart. She is absolutely going to fight teenagers, and if you have a problem with that, you can fight her over it.

Well. Her feelings are probably one-sided. Even for C.C., Milly's a tricky one to read, yes?

"In fact, I think I will be joining this club, right here," C.C. proclaims confidently, pushily stepping her way inside the room, picking up the maid outfit Emilia had just been handling earlier, already comparing it with the Ashford uniform (that she stole). "It's the kind of place subject to rumor and intrigue and misleading assumptions, and isn't that just ruthlessly charming? Freedom in spirit despite the encircling serpent of judgment, defying the glare of the snake with a wink and a grin. How liberating. How adorable."

Her head cranes over her shoulder, quirking a little smile to Emilia. "You're more nervous and fretful than I'd have taken a member of this club. It's a confidence-bolstering exercise for you, isn't it? Not only am I donating this dress, I am going to insist that you wear it on certain outings. Oh yes. It'll be you getting to be the noble who can get away with anything, with an iron boot stamping on a hapless spine. I look forward to you playing that role, it's one that's annoying and stuffy for me~"
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
<poem>

        Emilia has realized she is in danger, but hasn't worked out why.

        She does not, unfortunately, relax. Who relaxes when told to relax? Instead she tenses more. It doesn't become better when she's told she'll handle the dress donation. "I..." No, she's been told what she's going to do and nods. She goes to reach for the garment bag as Cyzarine announces she's joining the club. Emilia face falters, ever so slightly. Cyzarine is beautiful and elegant, she's going to draw all the stares. And Emilia's status as the cute new girl will disappear in seconds. Embarrassing as it is... she really liked the attention.

        And she's going to voice none of this, because she knows she's not supposed to.

        "...I know." She says... more resigned than sheepish. "The Club President personally requested I join this club." And saying yes saved her being rejected by so many others. And then she's told that Cyzarine wants &#42;her&#42; to wear the dress, and why and she looks briefly wide eyed and then... shy and awkward and a little sad? "I don't think I could look like that, Miss Cyzarine. I'm not..." She seems to stop mid sentence, like she can't find the words. She shakes her head a little, and takes a breath or two. "I don't matter enough to have that sort of presence."
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
<poem>
Well. That seems easy enough. Milly blinks once. "I guess I'll take down your paperwork!" Milly says, going over to a desk in the corner and starting to rummage. All clubs are &#42;supposed&#42; to have these -- and she'd know where they were if she didn't get distracted out of doing the checks she was going to. "Can I get your full name?"

Cyzarine begins to push on Emilia; Milly's lips turn up in a big smirk. "I think Cyzarine's got the wrong idea, for what it's worth. You're getting ahead of yourself." She pauses. Glances down at the papers in the drawer. (They're not actually the ones she's looking for.) A smile quirks at her lips -- for just a moment.

She rolls them up and points dramatically at Emilia, and announces:

"Guts!!!!!!!!"

"There," she says, calmly. "Now you have the power of courage! That lets you decide what the dress means while you're wearing it. Even if it's not what Cyzarine's describing."
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
<poem>
C.C. momentarily occupies herself by making a few coquettish little poses in front of the mirror adjacent to the maid uniform, propping it in front of her and off to the side of her in equal measure. Her posture's flamboyant enough that one half believes that she'd change, right there, right now, with absolutely 0 sense of shame or reticence.

There's a swirl of uncertainty that's easy enough to smell emitting from Emilia. The girl's heart remains closed off, C.C. can tell in many ways. Frankly she didn't even need that certain insight to tell - it's all in Emilia's body language and meek demeanor. But she can touch these threads of feeling that occasionally vent out. The deeper one, the hazier one underpinning that uncertainty...

And the much easier one. The sense that Emilia's jealous of her confidence. C.C. can't help but quirk a little smile that she's being admired in this way.

"Now now. 'Don't matter enough for that sort of presence'? Don't be a fool. You've got it all backwards." C.C. tips backwards just a bit, resting the maid corset atop herself securely enough to -basically- look like she's wearing it, one hand planted at her hip securely. "One's importance does not precede how they may present themselves to the world. No, your willingness to risk looking ridiculous all for the sake of refining it into looking glamorous - this is the essence of leaving a mark. Countless people have made earth-bendingly important decisions and have never had their names written down for it. Countless more have gotten their names written in lights all for the triumphal achievement of making an ass of themselves."

Milly presents it the much more elegant way. There's no real power behind Milly's spell, and that's why C.C. can frankly see herself blinded by the sheer power behind it. 100% willpower in blazing crimson and brilliant yellow. It's beautiful, really.

"I suppose the class president is right. A symbol's whatever you make of it~ I just figured the entire point of the 'Fantasy Seduction Club', was to concoct fantasies that seduce people, as part of a club of members offering input, yes?" C.C. takes the bold step of stepping over to take Milly's roll of paper for herself - this wand of magical power, and dismissively asides, "Already asking for my last name when neither of you have gifted me with your first? Dear me, aren't you two greedy? I prefer to fill things like this out myself, thank you very much." ...Hopefully that paper's not, like, something actually important, at this rate-
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
<poem>

        To be fair, changing in the middle of the room isn't unusual for the club, and probably wouldn't scandalize poor Emilia. What Cyzarine is saying, however... That's something Emilia can't seem to follow, and she looks embarrassed that she can't. She seems rather lost for words.

        And then Milly casts the guts spell, and she startles and stumbles backwards, before righting herself. The spell doesn't seem to have worked either. "I... I don't..."

        Fortunately, Cyzarine keeps talking, saving Emilia from further embarrassment. "That's... I mean..." She clams up again, looking down at her feet, before she's put on the spot. "O-oh, I'm sorry! My name is Emilia Eschonbach." Her voice goes quieter as she says her last name, as though she doesn't want to admit it. She tries to curtsey, remembers the garment bag in her hands, folds it over one arm, curtseys. "I suppose we'll be in the club together."

        You idiot, you've insulted her with your clumsiness, you've been scared to touch her dress she's kindly donating, she'll hate you.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
<poem>
There's a moment where Milly's eyes track over to C.C.'s sudden preoccupation with the mirror. Hm, she thinks, absently. I really do need to make a point of stopping by this year. ... Maybe it's worth running a few budget-multiplying events, too.

It's... a surprise, though, to hear that she isn't recognized on sight. She doesn't take it as an affront, but... then again, it's between years. People are transferring in. "Milly Ashford. Th -- fourth year student, and president of the Student Council."

She asides to Cyzarine, "... You know, I'll just let you fill that out. It's easier than asking questions." The good news is that it &#42;is&#42; what she was looking for -- a club membership form. "Make sure to keep it accurate. I don't need Rivalz and Lelouch having any more excuses to put off budget requests."

And... ah, another guts-immune target. Unfortunate, that. "... I'll explain later," she settles for, rather than putting Emilia on the spot.

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> C.C. has posed.
<poem>
"I think, Milly, your approach ought to have been a little bit more like this, on this type of girl." C.C. sets the maid uniform aside on a nearby chair, and pivots to gaze directly head-first into Emilia's eyes. The roll of paper is extended not an inch away from the tip of Emilia's nose. Eye contact unbreaking. Voice descending into a low, whispery sort of croon.

"G~u~t~s~"

She withdraws the roll of paper down her sleeve, and holds a mischievous little smile to Emilia. "We'll shape you into something elegant with time. It'll be my pet project to avoid getting too bored here."

Incredibly useful information obtained: if this form's a little screwed up, that'll only pester Lelouch much more. C.C. will definitely be sure to find creative ways to even use a piece of paper to torment the lad. "I'll look forward to the inbound year with the two of you, yes? Perhaps my technique ought to use revision, Milly. It seems to hold a lot of potential, indeed. ...But for the time being, additional responsibilities call. You all understand, yes?"

And so, just as suddenly as she came, the mysterious witch of many fake names drifts away like a breeze...

</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Emilia Eschonbach has posed.
<poem>

        "Oh. Okay..." That means Milly intends to keep being involved. She's just going to have to accept that, she supposes. Until Milly sees through her and walks away. She starts fidgeting with the garment bag, only for C.C. to try and make eye contact with Emilia, something Emilia doesn't keep. She looks down and away near instantly, and tilting her head down. She flinches when the paper goes close to her nose- flinching as early as she did with Milly.

        "S-Something elegant?" That's what Grandfather would want. Something elegant. Paradeable. Tradeable. There's anger there, rising up but being kept from reaching the surface. Cyzarine's a noble. She wouldn't understand.

        The Guts Spell has failed twice.

        "O-oh. I see. Okay." She looks to the dress. She has to accept the donation still. But Milly's still there. She might have a request as well.
</poem>
 <Pose Tracker> Milly Ashford has posed.
<poem>
Milly watches Cyzarine go for it; if it were that easy, Milly thinks, she would've just done that. Her intuition -- mundane as it is -- is... unfortunately, perhaps, rewarded; Emilia doesn't bite.

"Well," she says, bringing a hand up to her chin and considering as Cyzarine starts to leave. "Can't say she's not going to fit in..."

She turns to Emilia, saying, "Try not to worry too much about her right now. Just get things situated in here for now, okay? I'll call if I need anything else from you for the club room." This is going to be a tough nut to crack -- and one that takes a lot of changing up her style...

... it's probably worth it. After all, this kind of thing is why she chose to stay in the first place.

She heads out toward the door; she needs a few moments to think.
</poem>

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[[Category:Phase 1, Turn 1]]