AGG: Celeste Side Story: Primi Sanguinis Occisor

AGG: Celeste Side Story: Primi Sanguinis Occisor

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Commissioned by Citino

Wordcount: 2500

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If you’ve never awoken in the lap of a gorgeous blonde, bombshell’s lap, you’re missing out in life.

Especially if she’s got assets so amazing that you can’t see her face, when you wake up.

Seriously, I lean towards boring, typical relations with the opposite sex, but there’s something about waking up on a pillow of firm, plush things, and opening your eyes to seeing only wonderful, glorious boobs.

You can’t NOT grab them and declare: “I want to die suffocated by these.”

“I’m very happy with them with them too, my creator. Thank you very much for giving them to me.” There’s a lot to unpack in those words, since the last thing I remember was passing the fuck out after making a super, bullshit sword for Li Song, but I had other priories. Do they go squish, resist, or squeak? Only one way to find out. Honk. Oh. Honk. My. Le honk. Me. She’s all three. Soft, firm, and pert. I can’t even be jealous. They’re just amazing. “But, Lady Celeste, I will hurt you if you continue to fondle me.”

And, sleepy-yet-horny Celeste has been killed off by enough bloodlust to make Valerie Creighton think twice, before doing something stupid because of “muh pride.” 

Still, as the Aspect of Creation, I couldn’t let that threat go by without answering it with every right according to my station.

“Does just keeping my hands on them count as fondling, or—

“It does.”

“Hands coming completely off. Got it.”

I got up from my delightful, amazing resting place and looked upon a room that was in the middle of being cleaned. The bed, where I was probably laid upon to sleep off a few weeks in accelerated time, was having its linens changed by a Homunculus Maid. 

Thankfully, I had nothing attached to me for either input or output, thanks CORE shelling out for giving me a few bitchin’ tattoos that took care of food and excretion in times of crisis. They were out of power, due to both my nap and nonstop hours making something to save the world, but they did their duty.

But, ignoring the loss of my cool tattoos and the room I spent several days in, there was Miss Thighs-And-Highs to considers. The perfectly-figured, scarlet-eyed, and Elfin-eared blonde who provided me a wonderful Lap Pillow could be no one else besides Primi Sanguinis Occisor. The Sword of the Morning, given life, purpose, and an amazing body by Li Song.

Not because he’s the Aspect of Creation, but because apparently regular human beings who grind out stats in sword can just do that.

However, he wouldn’t have created the woman before me, and possibly boned her in the last few weeks, if my previous self hadn’t made her.

So, technically, I guess she’s my kid. 

Who’s dating someone else who’s technically my kid.

Who I may or may not want to also get to know?

Life’s complicated.

Anywhooooo…

Naturally, knowing all of that, there’s only one way to address Primi Sanguinis Occisor.

“Sup, buttercup, how’s life as a hot blonde, after being a golden sword? Better? Worse?” Celeste, that was all the wrong words right after another. Please, I know that you’re excited to know how being a sword-person works, but you just called one of the most lethal beings to ever exist “buttercup.” What? No. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with calling her a hot blonde. That’s a fact. Glad we’re on the same page, Celeste. Your last, remaining braincell is now returning to her shelter. Good luck. “Uhhh.”

“It is very nice. I enjoy many of the things that humans do. It is much better than just being a sword.” 

“Oh. That’s great.” Huh. Despite having no coffee, and rightfully having zero trust in my ability to talk to anyone for prolonged periods of time, I’m still perfectly fine. How long have I been asleep? How much has time has passed, so that this girl who’s obsessed with Li Song is fine being complimented by others besides Mr. Boy Next Door? “I’m happy for you. Existing is pretty great.”

Existing is pretty great.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I am indeed the Aspect of Creation, Celeste Thomas. 

“It is, which is why I wanted to thank you and care for you, while you were with us. I have let you sleep on my lap every time they changed your sheets.”

“…How many times is that, because I want to know how many days, I wasted asleep and resting, instead of waking up to this.” Every day? Is it every day? Hospitals change sheets every day, as well as do repositioning every few hours, and every maid here knowns how to operate a clean, patient room. “Tell me, please. I need to know how many regrets I need to have a long, difficult journey to let go of.”

“Your coma lasted for three days and four nights. I took care of you at least once like this every day until now.”

Two times.

Twice, I slept through Lap Pillows.

What could I have done with two more opportunities, such as this? Could I have claimed my addled, mental state again and gathered more information? Naturally, doing the same thing two days in a roar would be suicide, but the lap pillow provided other opportunities. The back of the head isn’t a very good sensory device, so the glorious thighs at the centerpiece of my regrets would’ve been my next target. If I had three chances, and I knew that this one would be the last, I would most definitely go for the fabled, face-down lap pillow... no… I’m too much of a coward to even try and pull that off.

At most, I’ll try not to breathe heavily while lying on my side or something. 

Alas, those moments are gone, nothing more than dust in the wind, and I am to longer be given the opportunity to discover more glorious secrets for the sake of advancing all forms of science. 

So, I can only whisper those moments a farewell, as I stand up… and appreciate the breeze that I hadn’t noticed.

“Why am I naked?” I asked Primi Sanguinis Occisor, as she joined me in standing up. My hair fluttered in the wind. The room’s temperature was perfect, and tussled my glorious mane, as I stood beneath the output of a vent. I spat out my hair, before talking to Occisor, as she stood up with beauty, grace, and clothes on her back. Of course, I was envious of all three. “I’ll accept any explanation, but I’d like to know why.”

“I was going to give you a sponge bath.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

I considered that information very carefully, whilst looking down upon the only other occupant in the room, besides the maid. 

Once again, there was only one correct response to the newest problem I’ve been given. 

“If I pretend to be unconscious, will you give me another?”

“No.”

“Dammit.”

…

I got myself dressed up in a spare set of Pajamas, before setting off to make an unhealthy breakfast while the maids watched in agony. What’s that? Liege waffles studded with sugar, buttermilk fried chicken, and bacon slabs not fit for human consumption? It’s unhealthy mass of salt, sugar, refined carbohydrates, and butter, more than anything vaguely nutritious?

Yes.

Those facts are all true, but I don’t care.

The Preservers have a pantry filled to the brim with the best ingredients available to mankind. Just because Miyakuro’s the only chef, and the only one taking advantage of CORE’s massive food budget, doesn’t mean no one else can also step up to the plate. Instead of resting on your laurels, feeding people artisanal, nutritionally-balanced meals, you all should’ve been putting locks, changing passwords regularly, and restricting access to equipment that’s never used.

But now you all get to watch me serve a glorious, American classic for my previous-life’s creation for my previous-life’s greatest fuck up.

“Behold… the meal that I would eat every day, if I didn’t have to worry about my waste line!” I did not set a plate before Occisor on the table. I set before her a butcher-board platter laden with fried, crisp, and golden foods. Three, whole, and battered Jidori chickens sat side by side. Their crispy, craggy exterior hid a perfectly cooked bird beneath, but had another secret… for extra crunch and flavor, I ground up cornflakes for extra surface area into the batter! “Look upon it and despair, because this is a meal which would slay the normal, pitiful salaryman in an instant!”

“Thank you for the meal!”

Wait.

You’re supposed to be in shock.

Why are you just digging in without hesitation, Occisor!?

YOU’VE ALREADY HALVED A CHICKEN!?

“W-wait. G-give me a second to get a plate!” Oh, no! She thinks the entire platter’s just for her! I need to move quickly—stop eating the waffles like chips! Those are special and my favorite! They’re golden, crispy, and fluffy things with little, crispy bits of candy in them! They take time and skill to make—and I’ve only got one my plate, because you’ve liked them too much! NO! I AM TAKING A WHOLE CHICKEN! “Occisor, g-give me a break, please!”

“This is very delicious!”

I know it is, but at least give me a cube of bacon! Cooking that perfectly, rendering enough fat to make it not greasy, but keep it crisp and tasty was really difficult—and I’ve got half of one, because your hands can count as sword.

And, that’s it.

Less than four minutes and all the food’s gone.

Over twenty thousand calories. 

Two hours of cooking, including some cheating with magic, and it’s gone in four minutes.

While I got only a single, medium-sized Japanese chicken with barely any meat on it, a single waffle, and practically two slices of bacon.

Well, at least, I’ll enjoy it all with my 100% Vermont Maple Syrup.

“Oh… you were supposed to eat it all with that delicious syrup? I didn’t know… it looks very tasty…” That’s… that’s not fair! You can’t look at me all hungry and cute, with your eyes wide, and a pout on your lips, Occisor! What is this whole scene supposed to be? Celeste Thomas doesn’t get to eat a single bite of her perfect, post-coma breakfast, because a cute girl in front of her is fun to feed!? Well… you’re WRONG— “May I have one bite to try it, please? I want to taste your delicious cooking how it’s supposed to be, Lady Celeste.”

Take it.

Take the whole plate.

Do you want another platter? I can make you three more chickens. More waffles are going to take at least an hour. Maybe, though, if I fiddle with the dough fermentation machine, I can turn that into half-an-hour. I can do the bacon right now, but it’ll be cold if I just start it. I can get a head start on rendering them, by putting them real low in the oven, but after that they’ll have to be seared off while the chickens are frying again. 

Wait a minute.

I can make it all better, and share some of Celeste’s Classic Concoctions while I’m at it, too!

There’s some Wagyu in this Arcology, so why not make a little, meat course that’s super delicious. Just a few kilos will do… but if you’re buying that much, why not go ahead and purchase an entire cow? I can make a lot of things from one cow. Wait, my past-self asked for fattened calves more than a few times, so why not ask for one of those, but made in the typical, over-compensative way Japanese folk tend to fantastically do things? 

And, why stop at a cow and chicken, when the Madrid Arcology’s just a quick jaunt over?

There’s a few Iberian pigs in existence. Those are cultural treasures, so I’m sure a few are being kept around. More than enough to breed the whole species again, as well as give some folk who save up a bit of a taste. A little influence, a few Credits, and maybe a little elbow twisting will get me a nice, suckling Iberian pig for the purposes of feeding Primi.

What?

I’m not going overboard.

She said my cooking is delicious, would like more, and is probably super hungry and starving, since she’s been taking good care of me.

I’m just doing what’s reasonable—and that’s a bunch of maids rushing me, because I’m reaching for their pantry.

This is going to be both very fun and not fun at the same time.

…

Primi put a bag of ice on my head, before taking a seat next to me, and turning the ultra-wide screen TV on to some antique collector channel for dusty old men.

Of course, I liked it.

“So, you don’t hate me or anything?” I decided to broach the difficult topic, since I’d gotten a feel from for Primi over the last few hours. She was nice, sweet girl who could turn into a weapon that can shank me into oblivion. The “nice” and “sweet” part was the most important part. “We’re cool? Lucifer’s a bitch, Li’s great, and you don’t want to kill me for hating the former.”

“Yes. Lucifer was not a good wielder. Li is… and I would never have reached him, if not for everything that has happened. So, I do not dislike my past.” 

“Huh. Cool. Very cool. Great, actually.” I let myself ride down the relief from those words with a sigh, and a little, accelerated healing, since I didn’t need to look weak, perverse, or eager-to-please anymore. “How was the fight against Destruction, then? Did that bitch cause you any trouble?”

“Using a blade he stole from Destruction, Li severed Destruction from her mantle and her karma, removing her power, the influence upon her mind, and the sins which weighed upon her soul.”

“Eh.” What.

Excuse me.

“Did… did you say Li did all of that… not with you or what I made… but with something DESTRUCTION made!?” What’s this feeling bubbling up inside me? It’s very, very similar to rage, but it’s tinged with an aftertaste. A Destruction-tinted aftertaste. Which I hated. “Li… cut fate and karma… with a sword DESTRUCTION made!?”

“Yes. The sword is very nice and cute, after Li refined her and freed her, by instantly reforging her with a single swing.”

Oh, Destruction didn’t manage to make a karma/fate killing sword on her own, Li had to reforge it first—“THAT DOESN’T MAKE IT OKAY! It should’ve been my sword that cut fate and karma! Mine! My sword! My thing that I made with my hand, which he sexily made better single swing!”

I got up from the sofa and started walking.

“…Ah, you are jealous of Destruction.”

“You bet your perfect T AND A I am! Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Seriously!? Really!? I go through all that work, effort, and time. I literally work myself into a coma, endure a bunch of angry Dwarves, and bargain with a Dragon… and DESTRUCTION gets the credit of making a karma-severing sword!? “Where’s Li? We’re going to see him right now! We’re getting the Fang too—“Naomi” “Yeah, her, and we’re all seeing him! The two of you are getting upgrades.”

“That sounds… impossible? I feel quite complete and Naomi feels the same way.”

“Well, then, I’ll do something else with his help!”

Fine.

Fucking fine.

Destruction made the karma-severing sword.

I’m making something batter with Li’s help!