The Book of Lucia, Chapter XVI - Beware of False Prophets

[Liesmith]

Tris was still getting used to Tokyo. Truthfully, she didn’t think she ever would, not entirely.

Though she was from backwater Goatswood, she didn’t think of herself as some wide-eyed yokel, rubbernecking and gawking at every new shiny thing she saw. She’d grown up with Bristol on her doorstep, had gone to uni in London which was as cosmopolitan a city as any in the UK.

Like her favourite opponents though, Tokyo kept her on her toes. Here, even something as simple as grabbing her morning coffee felt gratifyingly weird.

Like the Starbucks she currently stood in. Sure, she could see all the usual suspects from back home on the menu – the lattes, the cappuccinos, the espressos. It also had (and here Tris leant in closer, ice-blue eyes squinting at the writing) Sakura Cream Lattes.

She’d never even heard of a Sakura Cream Latte before she landed in Japan. Colour her curious, she thought, meeting the barista’s gaze with a polite smile.

It was still cool in the early morning air as Tris emerged from the café with her prize in hand. As was her habit, she was dressed down for the occasion, her voluptuous frame clad simply in an oversized hoodie layered over a Keith Fox brand tank top and black leggings. As Scylla, she loved nothing more than being the centre of attention but Tris Harper liked to keep her head down.

Speaking of which…

A knot of familiar outfits across the way had caught her eye and she felt her lip curl, tugged her hood more firmly into place as she turned away. The crazy cosplay nuns were out again, handing out leaflets to all comers with their usual aggressive zeal. Tris privately suspected that most of those clustered around them were more interested in taking selfies or simping for the ‘Sisters’ than signing up.

Either way, she wanted absolutely nothing to do with them; being told she was damned for having a little fun by a bunch of sanctimonious hypocrites dressed up in tacky cosplay? Thanks, she’d pass, she thought, walking away unhurriedly – the last thing she wanted to do was draw their interest.

Nope, she was just another passer-by, nothing to see here…

[BlackAkuma]

Cast a wide enough net, and you will find fish.

Such was the secret to proselytizing, the Sisterhood had found. Even in the area surrounding the LAW arena - a place where impromptu wrestling matches and brawls frequently erupted - the increasing presence of the nuns was a rare sight, and one that was mostly met with mockery and derision. Led by Sister Lucia and carrying her message to the people, they were less than welcome among LAW’s many hentai fans, who rightly saw them as a threat to their favored form of entertainment. To others, they were something of an oddity, a curiosity to be farmed for memes or used for photo opportunities.

But, ever so often, the message would land. The right words to the right person at the right time. And so, a Sister was born, and a new child found her way to the light.

In this task, Sister Chastity was uniquely suited. Their leader had many talents, but persuasiveness was rarely among them, having a sharp tongue that could drive away potential members. Sister Prudence was even more ill-suited for her task, with her ‘low tolerance for bullshit’, her own words. But Sister Chastity’s honeyed words and her inviting appearance had swayed more than a few young hearts, and so, she often led the church’s efforts in the streetS. This was what brought her here, today, to cross Beatrice’s path.

As the woman made her way out of the Starbucks with a dozen wild scents in the air behind her, Sister Chastity subtly stepped aside her path. Her garb would immediately set her apart from her sistren, meant for the ring as well as the field. Her chest on full display, her fulsome curves hugged tight along her way, and her thighs - sturdy, long, impenetrable - accentuated by her leggings, seeming to swell with every step.

”A wonderful morning to you, Beatrice. Lord’s blessings.” She stood with a pack of pamphlets under her arm, but she didn’t offer one just yet. ”May I have a moment of your time?”

[Liesmith]

Amusingly, until the Sister stepped out in front of her, Tris had imagined herself free and clear.

There was no shouting behind her, no sound of running footsteps. Not that the absence of either was a clear sign but somehow she imagined that subtlety wasn’t chief among the fake nuns’ virtues.

If one of them had been chasing her, she’d know about it.

Which was exactly the moment that the newcomer melted out of the shadows to block her path. As though, a suspicious part of Tris whispered, she’d been there all along. Waiting. In ambush.

This one, Tris instantly saw, wasn’t like the others. Her outfit was far better quality, clearly custom-tailored for a body that, in another place, the redhead would have loved to get to know better. Curves aplenty but she’d wrestled enough to spot the strength likely hiding underneath.

That didn’t deter her one bit. But that one word – Beatrice – was enough to send a trickle of cold water down her spine.

With a start, the realisation dawned that she recognised this ‘nun’ in particular – she couldn’t quite place the name, but Tris had seen her around LAW. One of the two who hung around with the new hentai champ. At least it was the hotter one but even so Tris decided she liked this situation in no way whatsoever. It was time to be somewhere else (and find somewhere else to buy her coffee).

“Sorry, Sister,” Tris lied through a shameless smile, unwilling to show how disconcerted she felt at hearing her name from this woman’s lips, “Places to go, people to see…”

She went to slip deftly by the brunette, careful not to get too close, keeping her eyes down.

Best not to look the crazies in the eye, it only encouraged them.

[BlackAkuma]

If there was any trickery in Sister Chastity, she had the good skill not to show it. She kept her face placid and serene, even as Beatrice jumped at the mention of her name, as if this crossing was only a happy circumstance. There was no threat in her movements, no aggressiveness in her form, but her eyes flickered and searched, blue gems scanning Beatrice’s form. And she was close. A little too close. As if she could see the edge of Beatrice’s personal space, and choose to stand on the edge.

She had a small, sighing chuckle at Beatrice’s words, as the woman worked her way about her. After a moment, she swiveled about and stepped after the redhead - not fast enough to fully catch up, but staying within earshot, all with a sultry swagger of her generous hips.

”Places and people, you say.” There was a hint of skepticism in that tone, but she didn’t pull that thread further. ”Forgive me if I took you aback with the name. I merely recognized your legs - they’re quite striking, I would say. I had an ample look at them on Keith’s show, and they left an impression. Not the same sort they had on the poor boy himself, but I digress.”

She kept her tone warm and welcoming, but there was a playful lilt underneath it, as she caught up to Bearice’s side. They were a fair distance away from the other nuns now, giving them some measure of privacy, their own quieter spot.

”If nothing else, allow me a proper introduction - Sister Chastity, at both yours and the Lord’s service.” She gave a small bow, letting a few of her golden strands tumble off her shoulder as she did. ”It’s a pleasure to see you in the flesh, Beatrice. All of it.”

[Liesmith]

There was something delightfully petty about just walking away from someone.

Tris knew it wasn’t even a temporary solution to whatever… this was (aside from a pain in her ass). It likely wouldn’t even have deterred the regular sort, not whoever this boss-nun was. Even a quick glance had been enough to see that much.

But she enjoyed it regardless. Though not as much as if the Sister had had the grace to throw a proper fit about it before chasing after her.

And yes, she knew she could have come up with a less transparent lie but why bother? Besides, technically, ‘anywhere but here’ counted as a place right? And ‘anyone but you’ could be said to be people?

Her interest, hitherto measured entirely in the negative, did perk when the nun at least showed she had good taste. In legs and podcast viewing at that, neither things she’d associated with this cult of weirdos.

The redhead tilted her head thoughtfully then paused as the nun caught up with her.

“Pleasure’s all yours, I’m sure,” Tris drawled, finally lowering her hood as she turned to face Sister Chastity, the name causing her to arch a brow in sardonic amusement.

“Got to say, Chaz,” she went on, “If you wanted to see me in the flesh…”

The Britishwoman let her voice linger on the last two words, stepping purposefully into the other’s personal space as she ran her eyes pointedly over the nun’s voluptuous body. Imagining what she could do to it, given half a chance. Considering what strength might linger beneath the curves that reminded her of her own.

“… You could always just book a session.” She quirked a deceptively sweet smile, “Like all the other simps. So, want to tell me what this is really about?”

[BlackAkuma]

When Sister Chastity stopped to think about it, it was fascinating how much proseltyzing had in common iswith making a sales pitch. In many ways, the technique was the same - you advertised, you compared against your competitors, you made the best case for your particular brand. In this, she was uniquely skilled, and her chosen garb aided her greatly. It ensured that she, at the minimum, attracted the attention of those around her, if not their desire.

It also taught her the value of persistence. After all, it is a poor huntress who gives up the chase the first time their prey flees.

Her persistence paid off in this case, with her words being enough to at least make Beatrice stop in her tracks and regard her, slipping the proverbial foot in the door. The woman pulled her hood away, bringing that brilliant hair out into the open.

If she sought to annoy with the nickname, it was a failed effort - in fact, Sister Chastity merely giggled at it, a soft and pleasing noise. It subsided as she stepped back, not for space, but to give Beatrice a fuller look of her body, as if she didn’t want the woman to miss a single curve.

”I might still. I can certainly think of far less pleasant ways to spend a few hours than wrapped in your thighs…or vice versa.” She stepped forward, just enough to subtly tense her own thigh and bring out a sliver of hardened muscle.

”Does one really need a great excuse to speak with such a beautiful woman?” She brought one of the pamphlets out and used it to fan her face. ”Perhaps I am merely recruiting. Perhaps I have nothing untoward in mind. Perhaps I am merely as I appear, whatever that may be to you.” She gave Beatrice the same appraising glance she had given out. ”What do I appear to you?”