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Only Human (Goddess of Victory NIKKE SI)

Looks like the Old Woman of Mighty Tools knows what's up...
But not what's going on.

Dorothy's suspicious and definitely crazy...
So she's going on the offensive to hunt down for info on something.

Interesting times indeed.
And Joe's gonna be in the middle of it all.

I love it!
 
"Good!" Dorothy cheerfully chirped, seeming pleased as punch by the development. "Now that you've learned your place, I have a few questions for you. In particular, regarding the Ark - recent events, any interesting news you may have about new going-ons. If you cooperate, I promise not to hurt you. If you don't… Well, you've seen how short my temper can be. Understood?"


...oooooooh..... nooooo.......
 
===
Chapter 32 - A Woman Scorned
===

Stepping out into the open air (or as open as the air could be in a cave) of the Outpost, Joe took a deep breath and-

"HELLO!"

-Let out a squeal, jumping in place and sharply turning to the auditory assailant.

A long-haired blonde, hair parted down the middle, athletic in her form, bedecked in form-fitting greys and blacks accented in oranges - her outfit looked the part of a combination of work wear and athletic wear, well-fitted and bearing iconic athlete stripes - she was, as most of the women Joe wound up interacting with regularly were, gorgeous. She was staring at him with wide, sky blue eyes, a wide, open-mouth smile gracing her-

"Hi! I'm Centi!" she cried out, demonstrating that she, like Ingrid, likely had no indoor voice - though her outstretched hand indicated that she was probably a good deal more personable than Ingrid. "You must be the Commander, right?"

"Uh," Joe was in a half-stupor, so caught off-guard that his usual runaway internal monologue that had to slave over every detail of a beautiful woman was derailed, and he didn't make a complete ass of himself in front of a pretty girl for once. "Y-yeah," he reached out and took her extended hand, "wha-"

"Liter told me to come find you!" Centi declared, immediately about-facing and dragging Joe along despite him having thought she'd been going for a handshake, pretty cleanly revealing that she was a Nikke, given how damned strong she was despite her figure being what it was. "We need some directions for where some stuff's getting put up and stuff!"

Joe had just been going out to clear his head after that whole thing with Rapi. But, as ever, it seemed that there was no rest for the wicked.


"Liter! I found him!" Centi proclaimed as she bodily dragged Joe into the ongoing construction zone. Notably, she stopped, drew him aside, and set a hardhat and high-visibility vest on him with a declaration of "Safety first!" before pulling him deeper into the noisy area.

Getting a close-up view of everything for once, notably, there was no wood in sight. That made sense. It just wasn't worth the risk to send forces up to the surface to fell and gather trees. Instead, everything seemed to be built from what looked to Joe's layman eyes like plastic, stone, metal, and concrete. He was sure the plastic was some wacky turbo-future-tech construction material that did everything wood did, but better, though he wasn't going to get caught up on it regardless.

Looming over a table improvised out of a pile of cinder blocks with a board set over the lot, was a teeny-tiny little lady. She was blonde, her short hair tied up in a little girlish sidetail, a prototypical hardhat adorned with an LED headlamp and rimmed with what looked like communications antennas set atop her crown. She wore a hooded leather jacket over a bright yellow jumpsuit, a tool belt set across her hips - correction: the jacket wasn't hooded, she was simply wearing a hooded shrug beneath the jacket and over the jumpsuit.

The tiny little woman, shockingly tiny even, looked up from a series of documents that seemed to relate to their construction duties. While Centi presented Joe to… he supposed Liter was probably the foreman, the tiny little blonde…

Stared up at Joe. Her expression was blank - after a few moments, evidently deliberately so. Joe recognized that look. It was one he himself wore often since he'd awoken in that hospital bed. For some reason, Liter set eyes on Joe, processed his face, and immediately put on that 'this is beyond my paygrade' expression.

Joe was… perplexed by that. He was building a reputation, yes, but was it so negative?

"...So, yeah," Joe began, stepping up and presenting a hand to the little lady. "Commander Joseph Pholus, pleasure to meet you."

The yellow-clad woman's expression redoubled upon the mention of his name. That bad, huh?

Taking his hand with a terrible, bone-deep exhaustion, she replied in turn. "Foreman Liter, Mighty Tools," she somewhat brusquely declared. "We shouldn't need to take up too much of your time. Just need an idea of what you want done and where to put stuff, since we're wrapping up building all the stuff that was already zoned out when you arrived. Where you'd put the armoury, additional housing, commercial and entertainment districts, that sort of thing."

"Ah, well, uh…" Joe trailed off, looking around the worksite and beyond its borders. He… had no idea of how to actually zone stuff out. Like, he played no small amount of Tropico in his day, but that was a video game, and hardly transferred over to reality. "I'm not sure how much help I'd be with that," he admitted.

"Well then I'll just drag you around the place and point out what would probably be best to set where, and you can just sign off on it as we go then," Liter asserted as she stepped off the solid metal stool she'd been standing on, immediately moving back for the main gate Centi had led Joe in through. "Centi, you supervise everyone while I'm sorting this out with the Commander!"

With a cheerful half-scream of "Sure thing, boss!" Centi bounded off excitedly to the other actively working Nikkes, a bundle of energy that one - and Liter continued onwards.

"Well, come on then, the sooner we have this all sorted, the faster the whole process of officially zoning everything out and getting work started will be," the very tiny little lady, small enough to be mistaken for a child, declared. Every word uttered was backed by a sort of weighty exhaustion usually only found in the elderly. That reminded Joe that Nikkes, by the accounts he'd heard, were technically immortal; thus, it was entirely possible for Nikkes to look incredibly young while being surprisingly advanced in their actual age.

Hoofing along to keep up with the industrious little lady, the displaced Canuck couldn't help but wonder just how old Liter herself must have been, to carry herself with that sort of-

Joe's thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of barking, and a blitz of yellow streaking past the entryway to the construction site. Blinking at that, Joe's lips parted before-

"That'd be Volt," Liter answered the question before he asked it. "My robo-dog. Fancy Missilis tech. I set him loose around the Outpost so he doesn't get in trouble around the construction site. Hope that's not an issue."

"...As long as he doesn't just get into trouble elsewhere," Joe warily noted, craning his head around to see if he could catch a glimpse of the apparent mecha-hound. He wasn't all that surprised to hear that the Ark could build fully mechanical animals given that Nikkes existed, but he'd yet to set eyes on anything like that himself.

"Don't think there's anything for him to get in trouble with just yet," Liter asserted as the duo passed into the street proper, Joe taking the hardhat and vest, tossing them on a nearby pile of personal protection equipment before they slipped past the construction site's boundary. "Don't worry, I'll keep him leashed once the Outpost has things of worth he could barrel into and risk damaging."

"Alright, appreciate it," Joe declared as the pair continued on. Joe had been knocked a little off-kilter, and so wasn't up to making small talk. Ergo, Liter just led him on… quietly. Notably quietly. Quiet to the point of being awkward even. She seemed nervous, for some reason. He could only assume that it was because he was a Commander with a burgeoning reputation. His 'peers' were noted for generally being shit-stains, so he couldn't blame Liter for being wary, even obviously uncomfortable around him.

Best to just keep it professional for now, then.

Liter, meanwhile, did her level best to remain calm about that fact that a ghost from a century prior, the Legendary goddamned Commander himself was just casually following her around the Outpost. She distinctly recalled how all of that business with his 'second coming,' the New Hope, had gone down and the resulting suppression of information about both of them in the aftermath. How so many people that made the mistake of being open about remembering the both of them got… Disappeared before the general populace learned to stop openly remembering the Legendary Commander and Goddess in general sixty years ago… The New Hope was too recent to be wiped from the memories of the younger generations of the Ark, entirely, at least. But only the oldest in the Ark still knew the true details of them all, even if they couldn't risk ever bringing it up, ever.

Liter had just assumed that it was a coincidence, him having the same name when Mighty Tools was assigned to the Outpost. But he had the same face, hair, everything from all that old propaganda that had been recalled, redacted and suppressed after the New Hope's so-called 'treason' after claiming that he'd taken everything he was famous for from the Legendary Commander in the first place…

The Foreman of Mighty Tools had no idea what to make of this development. What it meant, how this would affect things, the Ark, the war going forth. But… she knew for damned sure that she was old. Old, tired, and entirely too familiar with how things worked in the Ark. She wouldn't call attention to the fact that she knew who he was, she wouldn't rock the boat. Doubly so when she wasn't sure what was going on. She did know one thing for certain, however.

The curse of interesting times had befallen the Ark, and she had just been assigned a front row seat to bear witness to what was surely bound to be the epicentre of the coming boom, whether she liked it or not.

The foreman of Mighty Tools was way too goddamned old for this shit.


Goddess Squad, their Commander and the High Commander as well, all gathered together, all smiles, all joy. A beaming Red Hood with a pouting Snow White held in a headlock; Rapunzel smiling broadly at the camera as beatifically as always; Scarlet with her shoulder turned to the camera, attempting to look disengaged and uninterested despite the small, satisfied smile on her harsh yet lovely features; Andersen with Liliweiss, the couple lovingly embraced as the High Commander dangerously glowered at Joe from over the rim of his sunglasses; Cinderella with her arms wrapped around the Commander's neck, drawing herself in close to the ever-exasperated man as she vied for his attention as ever; and dutifully at her Commander's side, old parasol set over her shoulder… was Dorothy herself.

A low, repeated series of distant thumps and booms went seemingly unnoticed. Fingers gently stroking the old image, as the wind caught her silken pink hair atop the cliff upon which she stood, Dorothy was lost in the picture captured during that time when the squad was all together, taken on the main deck of the Avenger; that old helicarrier they'd operated off of in the midst of the Initial Rapture Invasion. Back when everything was better, back when everything was right. When they were a whole squad - a team - a family. All of this, this wonderful sight, this beautiful sight they'd taken from her. Robbed her of. They'd been heroes then, respected, venerated. As was proper, as was right, as they deserved.

This is what it should have been. This picture is how it should have always remained. And yet… yet… They were all gone now. Liliweiss, Andersen, Red Hood, Joe… all gone. Taken from them. And her sisters… they didn't understand, they failed to understand, they refused to understand. Those bastards, those ungrateful wretches in the Ark didn't deserve their service. Every minute they spent defending them was a minute they all denigrated themselves. Denigrated, degraded themselves and spat on the memories of Liliweiss, Andersen, Red Hood and Joe.

While here, Dorothy was working to make things right. To take back what was rightfully theirs to begin with. To avenge their fallen comrades. Her cause was right, it was just. The Central Government was corrupt, it was evil. All the information she'd been able to gather about the Ark, all the knowledge she'd obtained from the Nikkes they pointlessly sent out into the field to die, from turncoats like Johan, who had himself been betrayed and scapegoated because they felt like he threatened their power, because of his apparent resemblance to Joe - or at least the image of Joe they'd concocted since they took him from her

Just as before, Dorothy was the hero here. She was working towards what was best for everyone. How could her old squad mates not see that? How was it they failed to understand? Whatever steps they had to take to secure the Ark from the grip of the Central Government were inherently justified. Whatever sacrifices had to be made, whoever they needed to extract intelligence from, whoever needed to die, be removed from the play field like the pawns they were… The wretched humans in the Ark did not deserve salvation, yet still, Dorothy sought to deliver it unto them. Despite how they'd sinned against their saviours, still, Dorothy was working to tear out the corruption that choked out the Ark from the roots, for the betterment of all, but most especially, to finally reward the truly deserving: herself, and her remaining sisters.

What about this was so difficult to understand? It wasn't as though she sought to destroy the Ark - she wouldn't burn what was rightfully theirs. She would simply take it back. Reclaim it, remind all those within of what they owed to those who had given them their future in the first place. For herself and all her sisters, and in honour of their lost loved ones.

That was perhaps the worst part of all of this. The fact that Snow White, Rapunzel, Scarlet and Cinderella just… seemed content with living like dogs. Surviving off of scraps, sleeping in the wilderness, repairing themselves using scrap metal… all the while, being hunted by the very ungrateful Ark they proclaimed to protect. Despite the fact that they all had rooms in Eden - despite the fact that they would all be welcome back there, welcomed with open arms, if only they'd reject the Central Government's fascist dogma to work towards taking back what had always been theirs-

Pausing, Dorothy noticed that the rhythmic thumping and booming ceased, and looking up from her picture… Ah, yes, just as she'd calculated. The Raptures were all dead - just the same as the Nikkes, leaving a lone, panicked Commander, gazing around in horror upon the realization that he was alone, in the wilderness of the surface. No backup coming…

Quickly depositing the picture into her trusty little bag, Dorothy smiled broadly as she stepped off the edge of the cliff - dipping forth into a momentary free-fall before her momentum shifted along with a flash of light. At once, a pair of glorious wings encircled the starkly-clad Nikke's form before flaring out, Valkyric armour of the purest white gilded in gold shielded her from the assault of their extraterrestrial enemies. Soaring along, riding the wind with ease, Dorothy flew towards the lone Ark Commander, watching as he pitifully scrambled to-and-fro, trying and failing to flip over the dead Nikkes that had been shielding his unworthy visage. He was avoiding the wrecked Raptures as though they were an ongoing threat to him, even dead as they were.

As she neared him, she could hear him crying in an open panic - the fool had made the Nikkes under his command carry the emergency high-powered communications equipment, and now he couldn't find it - Alva Particle density was high enough here that he couldn't simply use the simpler radio integrated in his personal protection equipment. He was isolated, alone. Desperate. Perfect.

With a deliberately heavy flap of her technological wings, backwards-engineered from the technology that had gone into Cinderella's creation, Dorothy announced her presence to the lone Commander as her forward momentum was arrested, ensuring that the sun was at her back. He jumped, shrieked, screamed - a sound most pleasing to her ears, she had to admit. A low pleasure which elicited a wide, closed-lip smile, but one she'd allow herself these days, given the amount of work she put into fulfilling her long-term plans - to say nothing of the frequency with which she was forced to interact with these curs.

Regardless, the Commander, after taking a moment to take in her angelic form, her broad, now gleaming smile… chortled. He rose to his feet, clapping his hands once as he took in her sun-backed visage.

"Hey! Nikke!" He called out, brazen and lacking a solitary ounce of the wonder, awe, and respect his tone should have been dripping in. "Contact the Ark! Tell them that my mission was successful and get me a ride out of here! And be quick about it!" He jabbed an impatient finger out at her. Presuming to command her.

As per usual, the arrogance of the typical Ark Commander was boundless. Regardless of how many she met, regardless of whether they were man or woman, each and every one was ultimately the same: a presumptuous snake that cared nothing for the lives spent around them - thinking of nothing but themselves, what was good and best for them, and how they could get what they wanted out of those they considered their lessers.

Gracefully lowering herself to the grassy Earth, Dorothy continued to smile at the Commander, bedecked in his uniform which was a hollow facsimile of that which the High Commander, Andersen, had once worn. Even their attire seemingly tailor-made to stab at her heart, to infuriate her, to remind her of what the Ark took from her - to remind her of how little respect they had for those they had taken.

Dorothy advanced upon him - saying nothing, but smiling brightly. The Commander's expression fell, his messy head of black hair betraying the ragged, unkempt wretch so barely hidden beneath the cheap uniform he wore. "Hey! Are you deaf!? I'm a Commander, you're a Nikke! That means you have to obey me! Now do what I say before I-" He paused at the same time that Dorothy did.

Looking down, her foot had struck something - the very object he'd been searching for, the corpse of a mass-produced Nikke partially obscuring it. Dorothy leaned down, lifted the Nikke, setting her aside to reveal the communications set.

"Ah! There it is!" The Commander set his hands on his hips, pridefully, as though he'd done anything to be proud of. "Now, take that and- wait, what are you-!?"

Having returned to her full height, Dorothy set her heel atop the device, and in an instant, crushed it underfoot as though the steel and aluminum-encased equipment was made of paper mache. A terrible ruckus was momentarily projected out, before silence fell over the pair.

"Oops," Dorothy airily declared with a beatific smile directed the Commander's way - contrasting heavily with the way she'd so obviously deliberately destroyed the Commander's lifeline to the Ark.

"W-what the fuck do you think you're doing you stupid Nikke-!" the brown-bedecked officer started, taking a few threatening steps towards the violet-eyed pinkette, before he paused once she'd stepped towards him in turn, expression as angelic and lovely as ever. It was at this point that he began to suspect that something was amiss, finally starting to think about the situation, "...Wait, Nikkes can't fly...! Who are you!? W-what manufacturer made you!? What are you doing out here on your own anyways!? What-" Eyes going wide, fear began to take hold on his features. "W-wait, wait, wait! Who are you!? Where's your Commander!? Wh-"

"My Commander?" Dorothy replied, her voice, in contrast to her beautiful smile, was immediately icy and sharp. "My Commander… the man whose legacy you besmirch every day, every minute of every hour you call yourself a Commander. The man who you dare to compare yourself to, whose memory you degrade so frivolously?"

"Wha-what the Hell-!?" The Commander cried out, slipping and falling flat on his rear, now moving to scramble away from an increasingly threatening Dorothy. "S-stay back-!"

At once, Dorothy surged forth, lunging out and knocking the Commander's hat from his head, her fingers entangling in his curly black locks as she took a hold of his hair. Still smiling, broadly, angelically, even. The Commander's eyes went wide, breath hitching in his throat…

Then, his heart all but stopped as Dorothy reached up, and with her free hand, plucked the hearing protectors handed out to Ark Commanders as standard issue from his ears. With both of the devices that served as radio transmitters, his last-ditch connection to the Ark in hand, Dorothy crushed each in her hand, metal, plastic, and rubber falling to the ground unceremoniously as the Commander let out a pitiful whine. "H-Heretic…" he started, pupils becoming unto pinpricks. "Y-you're a Heretic…!"

"Now that is simply rude," Dorothy noted sternly, tutting as she wagged her finger in the Commander's face disapprovingly. "You shouldn't make such assumptions about people you've just met, you know. Especially given how much time and effort I've put into fighting and defeating as many Heretics in my time as possible. I have done more for mankind, continue to do more than you ever will. I'd advise that you not presume to know me when you clearly know so little in general."

There was a pregnant pause before the Commander let out a small huff, no small amount of resolve seeming to return to his sneering features. "I-if you aren't a Heretic, then you're just another Nikke, which means you can't hurt me, no matter how much of this stupid intimidation play you lean into!" he cried out, reaching out and firmly grasping at the arm whose hand was still entangled in his hair. "So get your hands off of me, you bitch-!"

He was silenced when, with her free hand, Dorothy reached out, took a hold of the Commander's hand, and a sickening crack sounded out, followed by a scream of agony.

Releasing the single mangled finger she'd broken to make a point, Dorothy set a deceptively dainty little finger of her own over the typical arrogant Commander's lips, letting out a gentle, almost motherly "Ssshh," as if to hush a mewling child. The fear of God once more returned to the man, Dorothy smiled broadly again, patting his cheek. "Now, have you learned your lesson?" She asked simply.

Whatever pride he'd clung to was broken, the Commander nodded through the tears that rapidly built up in the corners of his eyes, realizing just how terribly precarious his situation really was.

"Good!" Dorothy cheerfully chirped, seeming pleased as punch by the development. "Now that you've learned your place, I have a few questions for you. In particular, regarding the Ark - recent events, any interesting news you may have about new going-ons. If you cooperate, I promise not to hurt you. If you don't… Well, you've seen how short my temper can be. Understood?"

Dorothy had her contacts in the Ark as it was - but sometimes, when information was a bit slow to reach her ears, it was best to simply take information gathering into one's own hands.

And Dorothy was far and away beyond being above getting her hands dirty to further her goals.

Uh oh. Looks like ole Doro might be finding out about Joe sooner than we expected. She'll probably go beserk thinking some fraud is usurping his name. Hoo that'll be a fun meeting when that occurs.

Doros gonna doro I guess

doro-dorothy.gif
 
Oke dokie. Time to ask the question for us lacking in Nikke lore: What is the New Hope and is it canon or something original?
 
Oke dokie. Time to ask the question for us lacking in Nikke lore: What is the New Hope and is it canon or something original?

Yep, he's Canon. And the propaganda is highly implied to be true too. That the propaganda was used, not that he's the second coming of the Legendary Commander.

Also, it shows how unsympathetic the Ark regulars are that we see one getting injured, and the first impulse is to root for Doro
 
Also, it shows how unsympathetic the Ark regulars are that we see one getting injured, and the first impulse is to root for Doro

Commanders are pretty much assholes, the Ark Civilians though I think some are worth saving, like Anne's Mum and some of the others.
 
Oke dokie. Time to ask the question for us lacking in Nikke lore: What is the New Hope and is it canon or something original?
It's another commander named Johan. He was called as such because he was a cut above the other commanders in terms of competency, much like Joe right now. Unfortunately, he left the Ark due to being backstabbed and eventually joined Eden.

That was 60 years before the current story. And yes, the guy is still alive and kicking right now.
 
That NPC commander has the survival instincts of a lemming. Like even if you've been brainwashed and taught to always believe a nikke can't hurt you, you'd think his one braincell would kick in and alert him that maybe this mystery random unknown Nikke appearing out of nowhere doesn't mean Jack and shit to his safety.

And good girl Centi makes her appearance! She was my first SSR, I still use her fondly.
 
That NPC commander has the survival instincts of a lemming. Like even if you've been brainwashed and taught to always believe a nikke can't hurt you, you'd think his one braincell would kick in and alert him that maybe this mystery random unknown Nikke appearing out of nowhere doesn't mean Jack and shit to his safety.

And good girl Centi makes her appearance! She was my first SSR, I still use her fondly.

There's a reason why first mission survival stats for rookie graduates is under 50%...and why the number goes down every mission
 
It's not just a "50% chance" it's a flat-out 70% chance of death and a "higher" chance on the second.
No, they have it right since they're talking about survival rates while you're talking about the death rates. The confusion is understandable given the relation between the two statistics.
 
No, they have it right since they're talking about survival rates while you're talking about the death rates. The confusion is understandable given the relation between the two statistics.
...if people don't die, they survive. They're directly related. This isn't a Shirou Emiya'ism, if 70% die that means only 30% survive.
 
...if people don't die, they survive. They're directly related. This isn't a Shirou Emiya'ism, if 70% die that means only 30% survive.
I wasn't trying to turn it into a Shirou Emiyaism. I'm well aware of how ratios work. I was trying to politely and casually point out that your attempt to correct EX143 was incorrect. He was referring specifically to the survival rate, which does get lower with each subsequent mission. So while your point of specifying that the survival and death rates are 30% and 70% was correct, your attempt to correct them as having meant 'higher' instead of 'lower' was not correct. Just because the two percentages are directly related doesn't change the fact that they behave differently depending on which side of the equation you're referring to. I.e. Survival rates get lower as death rates get higher.
 
I wasn't trying to turn it into a Shirou Emiyaism. I'm well aware of how ratios work. I was trying to politely and casually point out that your attempt to correct EX143 was incorrect. He was referring specifically to the survival rate, which does get lower with each subsequent mission. So while your point of specifying that the survival and death rates are 30% and 70% was correct, your attempt to correct them as having meant 'higher' instead of 'lower' was not correct. Just because the two percentages are directly related doesn't change the fact that they behave differently depending on which side of the equation you're referring to. I.e. Survival rates get lower as death rates get higher.


Admittedly I used 50% and the less than limiter because I can't remember just how bad the death rate was.
 
I wasn't trying to turn it into a Shirou Emiyaism. I'm well aware of how ratios work. I was trying to politely and casually point out that your attempt to correct EX143 was incorrect. He was referring specifically to the survival rate, which does get lower with each subsequent mission. So while your point of specifying that the survival and death rates are 30% and 70% was correct, your attempt to correct them as having meant 'higher' instead of 'lower' was not correct. Just because the two percentages are directly related doesn't change the fact that they behave differently depending on which side of the equation you're referring to. I.e. Survival rates get lower as death rates get higher.
Don't be a pedant desperate to correct people on the internet, especially when your assumptions are wrong. While the first number I gave was meant to be a correction of over 20%, the "higher" I mentioned wasn't a comparison to any number that they said, but instead talking about the stated amount of casualties that happen on a commander's second mission as it was mentioned in the canon dialogue, as there is not a concrete number given in canon they only give a metric as "higher" in the dialogue so I didn't state the number.

Please take your "Um, ackshually" attitude somewhere else.
 
Anyhoo, is it just me or does it feel like Liter would ask Centi to make popcorns and watch the shitshow that will eventually go down when other nikke squads get their grubby hands on Joe?

*COUGH*talentum*COUGH*underworld queens
*COUGH*prima donna*COUGH* man I need to get myself some cough drops :V

Oh wait they're all Tetra line nikkes, yall know what that means right?

EEEEEEEEEEENTERTAINEMNT!! :V:V
 
It gets worse/better...
since Mustang is also old enough to remember.

Yup, im guessing he will throw Talentum and Underworld Queens at Joe to get proper funding & supplies for the outpost. Cause CG is hella unreliable long term & might sabotage him later on.

Wonder if Sakura can still get that fake marriage contract going with Joe though. The fallout if that piece of info gets spread to the nikkes is going to be hilarious. :sneaky:
 
Don't be a pedant desperate to correct people on the internet, especially when your assumptions are wrong. While the first number I gave was meant to be a correction of over 20%, the "higher" I mentioned wasn't a comparison to any number that they said, but instead talking about the stated amount of casualties that happen on a commander's second mission as it was mentioned in the canon dialogue, as there is not a concrete number given in canon they only give a metric as "higher" in the dialogue so I didn't state the number.

Please take your "Um, ackshually" attitude somewhere else.
Okay I'll concede that my last response did give off that kind of 'pedantic um, akshually' energy since I did allow myself to get a bit heated, but dude your initial post was giving off 'pendantic um akshually' energy too. Granted you probably didn't intend for it to read that way, but that's the tone it gave off from my side of the screen.
 
Anyhoo, is it just me or does it feel like Liter would ask Centi to make popcorns and watch the shitshow that will eventually go down when other nikke squads get their grubby hands on Joe?

*COUGH*talentum*COUGH*underworld queens
*COUGH*prima donna*COUGH* man I need to get myself some cough drops :V

Oh wait they're all Tetra line nikkes, yall know what that means right?

EEEEEEEEEEENTERTAINEMNT!! :V:V

A nikke walks into dark room, plugs in a drive, and a picture of Joe pops up.

"Ladies. We have a new target."

*button click and picture change*

"This is not a joke. This is not a drill. He is EXACTLY who you think he is."

*silence*

"Go. Find him. For our sisters. For the Goddesses. FOR THE HAREM!"

*Mass chaos ensues*

Anderson, upon seeing the vid feed, produces a bottle and starts chugging. After emptying the first, he reached for another with a mutter of:

"We tried to hold them back Joe. We failed. Forgive me."
 
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A nikke walks into dark room, plugs in a drive, and a picture of Joe pops up.

"Ladies. We have a new target."

*button click and picture change*

"This is not a joke. This is not a drill. He is EXACTLY who you think he is."

*silence*

"Go. Find him. For our sisters. For the Goddesses. FOR THE HAREM!"

*Mass chaos ensues*

Anderson, upon seeing the vid feed, produces a bottle and starts chugging. After emptying the first, he reached for another with a mutter of:

"We tried to hold them back Joe. We failed. Forgive me."
This has to happen after Mustang or Cecil imports and hardmods the WOMBFORCE GTX-6900 for Nikke compatibility.
 
Chapter 33 - The New Girls
===
Chapter 33 - The New Girls
===

To Joe's shock, the Outpost, which he'd expected to be little more than a forward operating base, was set to receive all the accoutrements of a proper settlement - housing, entertainment, commercial districts, even industry. By all appearances, the place was set to become something of a mini-Ark in its own right, intended to be capable of supporting a population of at least two-thousand autonomously. And that was assuming they didn't default to high-density housing too!

That worried the shit out of the so-called Legendary Commander, given that it sounded like he was effectively expected to be every administrative official a small town would have, all at once. His ass wasn't trained for this sort of shit! Hell, he wasn't even trained for all the other shit he was expected to do either! What the fuck!?

At any rate, Liter had an idea of how everything would come together, and so would get back to Joe for the green light otherwise…

As he ambled along the sidewalk lining the narrow, European-esque streets, Joe's phone buzzed in his pocket. Withdrawing the gaudy, golden abomination, a quick swipe revealed a message from Rapi. [Commander,] she started. [The iDolls have arrived at the Command Centre. It would be wise for you to return and meet them.]

[I'll be right there,]
the Commander declared matter-of-factually, immediately moving back to the tower that was their home, such as it was. He didn't know precisely what to expect, but going off of how things had gone with EG while she'd been filling in for Anis, he didn't imagine it'd go terribly.


"Commander!" Three brand-new Nikkes all turned and saluted at once - shockingly, shockingly I say, all three were heckin' cuties at minimum - kind of a punch to the kidneys at maximum. Two blondes - one platinum and the other golden - and one ginger-toned redhead. Joe was a little worried; at this rate, being surrounded by mostly blonde Nikkes? He was going to develop a reputation for being a fiend for blondes. Which, while just about 2000% accurate, didn't seem like the sort of reputation he needed as a fledgling Commander.

The platinum blonde was bedecked in mostly dark navy blues and greys - a helmet-like visor set atop her crown, her hair was long and silken straight. Notably, after a moment, it registered that she was wearing a short, transparent cloak over her simple zippered jacket. Even with her eyes hidden, it was clear to see that she was pretty. "Sir, iDoll Ocean, reporting for duty!"

The ginger had her hair tied back in a ponytail. Her outfit was one of the most overtly Cyberpunk get-ups Joe had yet seen by far. Covering her torso was what Joe had to assume was some sort of soft, orange-tinted gelatinous armour. Otherwise, she was adorned in oranges and blacks, proudly emblazoned with the Tetra Line logo. Her headgear was just as militaristic as Ocean's. "I'm an iDoll Flower, ready for orders, sir," she declared.

The golden blonde, meanwhile… ooh boy. Her hair was tied into a pair of lovely twintails, and her headgear, a visor adorned with what looked like robotic cat ears, of all things. Beyond that, she was bedecked in one of the other singularly most Cyberpunk outfits Joe had seen so far. She was decently well-endowed and curvaceous, and her top which seemed to be designed to emphasize that with its appearance as a techno-studded gambeson - padded cloth armour - with proper magazine pouches resting under her chest. Unexpectedly, she was wearing an honest-to-God bevor and gorget - a metal collar meant to armour the throat and clavicle. Bulky pauldrons - shoulder plates - adorned her shoulders, another short, transparent cloak was attached to said pauldrons. She wore a very high-legged leotard under her top and tiny short shorts, going further down her legs revealed tight thigh high leggings, which lead into simple short boots resting atop tall high heels. "IDoll Sun," she wearily started. "Orders?"

Notably, where the other two MP Nikkes had more neutral expressions, Sun was more overtly frowning, a grumpy little downturn of her lips. Joe had to admit - if he hadn't known any better, he'd have just thought that she was a gorgeous little Cyberpunk mercenary, a striking one at that.

The Commander may have been just a bit smitten by her looks alone. That was unexpected, given that to his understanding, MP Nikkes were all physical clones of each other, meaning that there were likely hundreds, if not thousands or even tens of thousands of girls that were Sun, Flower, and Ocean's exact doppelgangers in the Ark. Which was… strange to consider. Like, intellectually, he was aware that MP Nikkes were literally churned out of factories, but actually being confronted with that eventually was going to be… weird.

Though he supposed he'd get there when he'd get there. Luckily, while he'd normally spill a fair bit of spaghetti all over Sun's high-heeled feet, he was just so damned tired by the day already that he didn't have the energy to devolve into a horny bonobo.

Rapi stood off to the side, taking in the sight before her - Neon and Anis were nowhere to be seen. Doubtless they were just doing their best to enjoy their day off, and he wouldn't hold that against them. They'd have all the time in the world to meet and get to know their new team mates while milling about the Command Centre until their next mission.

Nodding to the new Nikkes, Joe stepped up towards them. "Welcome to Counters, ladies," he declared matter-of-factually. "Here's to a long and fruitful career together… and, before anything else to get everything right out of the way - don't bother giving me your serial numbers, I don't care what the Central Government says: you aren't weapons, you're people, and people have names. So we're stopping this 'Ocean, Sun, and Flower number 20XX' business right here and now."

The silence that followed was palpable. The iDolls stared at Joe as though he'd just sprouted a second head, Sun in particular obviously glowering at him.

When that continued on for a fair while, Joe spoke up again. "I suppose I'm going to need to prompt you then. 'Ocean,'" he focused on the platinum blonde Nikke, who jumped and looked the part of a frightened rabbit. "You were converted into a Nikke, meaning you had a name before the Central Government started dehumanizing you. What was it?"

In response, the little platinum blonde went very, very still, lips parting as she looked as though she wanted to shrink on herself. A continued bout of silence before…

"...You can trust the Commander," Rapi interjected somewhat hesitantly, causing the MP Nikkes to look at her in dumbstruck surprise. "He's… not like the others. I think that's why he's being assigned permanent subordinates under his command. He genuinely cares… he even saved the life of my partner when he didn't need to during our first deployment together. Anis. You can ask her yourself when you meet her. She's usually in the recreation room using the television or the computer."

While Ocean and Flower looked absolutely dumbstruck, Sun… just seemed all the more wary.

After a few moments, Ocean looked to Joe, deeply uncertain, before eventually replying: "...Mia," she finally, visibly and audibly on-edge despite Rapi's backing him up. "My name was Mia."

"Your name is Mia," Joe dictated, hands set on his hips. "And it always has been. Understood?"

After a few moments, Mia let out a low, shuddering sigh, breath audibly hitching in her throat. "...Yes, sir."

After a few moments, Joe added: "Why are you wearing that headgear?" All three of the Nikkes were wearing eye-masking equipment. All of which looked like combat gear. The equivalent to someone walking around wearing night vision goggles and a ballistic helmet in a dorm room. "We aren't in the field. There should be no need for you to be kitted out as you are."

After a few moments, she answered: "...A-a previous Commander got mad whenever she saw my eyes, and told me to keep them covered up all the time… and that kept happening with every Commander…" she admitted with no small amount of hesitation.

It didn't take a genius to figure out why. The eyes were the gateway to the soul. These Commanders were upset to see that Mia had eyes as human as theirs, and rather than looking inwards and considering why that got to them, they made the poor girl cover them up at all times. Fucking cowards. "You are not required to wear those unless we are in the field, and only if not wearing them would affect your performance in the field at that. That goes for all of you."

After a pregnant pause, Mia's hand drifted up to her headgear with no small amount of uncertainty, but she ultimately allowed her hand to fall again without revealing her eyes. Unsurprisingly, that was a step too far for someone who had been conditioned to cover her face for… Lord only knew how long. She'd eventually get that conditioning worked out of her, and Joe didn't feel the need to press the poor girl before she was ready on her own terms.

Thus, he shifted his attention to the next MP over, Flower. "And you. Your name?" he asked.

The iDoll was quiet, shifting about uncomfortably atop her flat-footed shoes, letting out a low sigh. "...I don't know, sir," she admitted. "I don't remember anything from before I was converted. I'm sor-"

"There's nothing to apologize for," Joe cut her off pointedly. "Just… think about it. What you'd like to be called, then. Names are important, and if you don't have one, then it's better late than never. Simple as that. Understood?"

The currently-nameless Nikke looked absolutely dumbstruck, seeming to avert her gaze in uncertainty with a small nod.

To that point, Joe turned to the twintailed Nikke-

"iDoll Sun," the golden blonde forcefully declared, frowning straight at Joe. "I'm not playing into this little game."

That caught Joe off-guard, and got Rapi staring at the golden blonde Nikke. It took him a few moments to recover, but he did with no small amount of wariness. "What are you talking about?" he asked simply.

"Commanders are all the same, whether you're men or women," she declared pointedly and with what Joe knew was a glower, despite her eyes being hidden. "Give me my orders, and don't pretend that we're anything but disposable tools to you." Her body language was stiff as a board, and had been since Joe had set eyes on her.

Man, sunny disposition on this one, huh?

It didn't feel good, but it wasn't particularly surprising either. Joe distinctly recalled a time when he would have flat-out refused to believe it if something had attempted to extend a hand to him as well - a dog that's been abused enough will reflexively snap at the first hand that comes near it, after all. So too, Joe wouldn't press her. If it took a while for her to internalize that this wasn't going to be like all the rest of her previous assignments… then so be it. So long as she followed orders in the interim, that would simply have to do.

"Then go do what you will until you are called upon," Joe declared rather shortly. "Dismissed, Sunny," he couldn't help but be a little snide, however. Joe was only human, and couldn't be expected to be perfect in all instances. Least of all in the midst of a continued bout of being allowed no fucking breaks to speak of. Doubly so as he'd just had his attempt to show someone basic human decency decried as bullshit for little apparent reason.

The golden blonde iDoll, needless to say, was visibly annoyed by his reply, but was quick to take her leave, stomping off deeper into the Command Centre without missing a beat or giving him or anyone else a second look.

Mia and Flower remained where they were, understandably wary until Joe spoke up to them again, a good deal less harsh than he was with Sunny. "All Nikkes have free reign of the Outpost during off-hours. There isn't much to do for now aside from bumming around in the rec room, but according to Liter, commercial and entertainment districts are in the queue following more proper residential units. Ask whoever for help if you need it, but really, I don't expect y'all will need directions too much, given that the barracks are right next to the rec room, which is right next to the kitchen. There anything either of you have to ask about for now?"

After a few moments, Mia stepped towards Joe with a bracing breath. "C-Commander-"

"When we aren't in the field, you can just call me Joe, or Pholus," the long-haired brunet informed the little lady.

At that, she took another breath, a long, hitching breath. "...J-Joe," she started, hand balling into a fist over her chest, staring up at the Commander as her voice audibly warbled. "Thank you. Thank you," she almost whined, lips trembling. Though he couldn't see her eyes, there was little doubt that she was on the verge of tears.

…Yeah. Mia seemed to be the type that wanted to have the opportunity to be trusting, and having the misfortune of being a Mass-produced Nikke in the Ark, had unsurprisingly, found herself in the midst of an ongoing deficit of half-decent fucking human beings during her service spent towards mankind's ongoing survival as a species.

"...Pholus," Flower, meanwhile, stepped forward as well, looking in the direction Sunny had departed in. "I don't know what her problem is. I'll-"

Cutting her off with a pointedly heavy breath, Joe made a halting motion at the orange-clad Nikke. "I understand where she's coming from. Just let her have her space. She'll come around eventually."

Flower and Mia looked at Joe… with expressions he couldn't quite make out, given that both were still wearing their partially face-obscuring headgear, but he could tell that they were taken aback, to say the least.

"If there's nothing else, y'all take a load off and relax. I don't know when we'll get our next mission, but going off of our current track record, there's a non-zero chance that we'll be loaded into a comically large catapult, and launched directly at the Rapture Queen with six sticks and a rock - and we'll probably have to share the rock," he noted, only half-joking because Jesus fucking Christ, Blacksmith, then Gravedigger, then goddamned Chatterbox… the string of extreme high-intensity missions seemed to set a precedent to him. He had every expectation that being put up against stupidly extreme odds was just going to be the norm for Counters. "Seriously, appreciate the time off we have. Our missions tend to be demanding."

There was a beat, wherein Mia was recentring herself, while Flower, meanwhile, mused to herself, "...Well, I've been wanting to catch up on this anime I've been watching…"

"The communal TV is hooked up to the Ark proper, so you should be able to use it for that - or the communal computer if Anis is using it." Joe motioned towards the rec room. "So… y'all have fun then." He might've been all about making the girls under his command feel welcome and appreciated - but he was an introvert being forced to person for extended periods of time now. He was running on fumes, and every ongoing interaction was redlining his social energy reserves more than they already had been. He needed time to himself before he started getting actively crabby and standoffish.

"...Understood," Flower replied. "I suppose we'll speak to you later, sir." Reaching out, she set a hand on Mia's shoulder to guide her away. Though Mia was hesitant, she followed with echoing footsteps, quickly leaving just Joe alone with Rapi in the Command Centre's overly quiet entrance hall.

After Joe took a deep breath, there was a beat. Rapi was the first to break the silence.

"You look like you need to rest, Commander," the little strawberry blonde observed, standing with her hips cocked as she usually did. "I would advise that you retreat to your quarters, and not engage in any affairs relating to your duties as a military officer for the time being."

…Yes, it would be wise for him to just waste a few hours. Maybe even the rest of the day, if he could get away with it. "Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea… thanks," Joe nodded, pausing before he set off and… noting that she was still bare-faced. It was wild to Joe how Rapi was one of those girls whose RBF only added to her appeal, rather than being inherently detrimental. Having a naturally grumpy face sometimes worked in a lady's favour.

He was still too tired to gonk out over it, though, so he just said, tiredly, but genuinely, "You really do look a lot better without all that awful caked-on makeup, Rapi. I like you much better without it."

At that, Rapi sheepishly averted her gaze, responding with an intoned "...I see." And little else. Joe… almost thought he saw her cheeks reddening a bit, but it was just as likely to be a trick of the light than anything.

So, waving at the little black-bedecked blonde, Joe moved for the elevator, intent on just sitting around on his ass for a bit as Rapi quietly watched him depart.


Towards the end of the day, in the midst of Joe's rapturous enjoyment of his alone time, he received an alert on his phone, and checking it raised his eyebrows, to say the least.

From Andersen, it read: [Meeting tomorrow with Ingrid and Mustang. My office, 1430 hours sharp.]

There was a beat in which Joe stared at the phone for a few moments blankly, his lips down turning as his brow knitted in-

[That's 2:30 PM, to clarify.] Andersen quickly followed up.

Thank fucking Christ it occurred to Andersen that Joe had all the experience of a goddamned civvie and had no fucking idea how to read military time.

No rest for the wicked, at any rate. Hopefully his first meeting with the CEO of Tetra Line would be fruitful, if nothing else.
 
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