"But not three?"

Tegan does not seem particularly eager to leave either, after all.

She looks up at Cameron through her eyelashes. "As you wish."

Cameron dispels her raiment.

The corset, boots, bracers, ruffles, jewels, and straps kaleidoscope into themselves, vanishing into their symmetries and leaving Cameron's body bare. There's something softer about her, an intangible sense that she is now lesser, but it is unclear if this is metaphysical or psychosomatic or just something in her body language.

"You were here first," Cameron says to Tegan, "and I really should  demonstrate  my  gratitude that you waited for me, given what it cost you."

...huh. Okay. How to play this...

"That's very responsible of you." Her body language and voice shift smoothly as she replies, from softer and gentler to more confident and decisive, and she folds her scarf and rises into a half-kneel. "I can see that you understand your mistake, and Alvin," she nods at Doc, "has told me of your work with the rebuilding." She stands, and looks Cameron directly in the eyes. "You have done well, and you will do well to continue in the same vein. I will accept my part of your repayment." She steps towards Cameron and places a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her gaze steadily. The scarf is in her other hand, held almost casually by her side, yet somehow giving the impression that she's wielding it as some sort of instrument.

Did Tegan just put them into a perpetual dynamics loop? Because Cameron thinks Tegan just put them into a perpetual dynamics loop.

How to deal with that? Fortunately, as always, Cameron can cheat. A perpetual dynamics loops is easy to resolve when she can make it n-dimensional.

Cameron slides off her chair onto her knees.

Cameron also stands up and stands over the Doc Alvin, to pet his head.

Cameron also kneels at Alvin's feet.

Cameron also is now a sexy boy standing behind Tegan with his hand affectionately on her neck.

Duplicate is such a good ability.

She is so, so confused. She can take the transformation in stride - it's far from the strangest thing she's seen today - but. The fact that Doc's bed will not, in fact, fit six is the least of her problems.

(Her confusion flickers in her eyes for just a moment, before she schools her features into an assessing gaze.)

She raises one eyebrow, slightly.

Wait. No.

(It's the gender distribution that makes it click.)

Cameron goes around naked. Says that direct come-ons would work on her. Swore vengeance on "every enemy of lust". Cameron is a foreigner. That's why she's acting so crazy. She doesn't distinguish. It's all just sex to her.

Tegan exchanges a glance with Alvin, before turning back to the Cameron at her feet.

"You," she says with more confidence than she feels, "have a lot to learn."

"Always," the (real) Cameron at Tegan's feet replies serenely.

"And I don't doubt that you do too," the boy-one adds.

She strides forward, grabs Cameron's hair, and pushes her face into her crotch. Once she starts licking, she motions him around to where she can talk to him face-to-face.

"I want you to know," she says in the tones of a disciplinarian giving a talking-to, "that I am indulging you. You are so starved for sex that you don't bother to discriminate. You glut yourself on everything in sight. I understand that it is necessary, for now. But you must plan to grow out of this phase. Not everyone you meet will benefit from your offering them effortless relief. Sex is not a thing to hurry about getting it over with. Do they even have foreplay where you come from?"

...that was not domination play. Not entirely.

Cameron's tongue suddenly stops, buried in Tegan's cunt. All four of Cameron freeze, in fact, as the sheer awe-inspiring scope of Tegan's insult sinks in.

Cameron hasn't been starved for sex in a long time, but only as a side effect of her work, and of her calling. It is a feeling she strives to forever keep alive inside herself; to forget, to stop caring, would be worse than a slow and painful death followed by the unraveling of her soul. Tegan thinks she can appropriate Cameron's mantle and then defile it?

All three duplicates dissolve into rainbow mist, rejoining the real Cameron just to ensure she is of one mind on this. Four sets of emotions fill in the gaps in each other, and yes, Cameron is, in fact, angry.

Tegan takes a step back, meeting Cameron's gaze. Her face is still stern, but her voice is softer, not submissive but kind. "Perhaps I was too harsh. But there are things you need to know. Ignoring the things you don't like may be comfortable at first, but it will only betray you in the end."

"Tegan. Stop."

Cameron slowly rises, standing. Her face is like ice.

"No. Go on. Please."

Doc clearly thinks this is a bad idea, but he shuts up.

shit shit shit damage control

Her face softens, sympathetic. "You come from a place that's – a desert of sex, and this is an oasis. You think that letting someone go thirsty is an unthinkable cruelty."

"Things are different when people aren't in the background habit of being desperate. We can afford to take our time about things. It's okay to take your time about decompressing. But you shouldn't think that you won't decompress, or shouldn't."

"I'm sorry. I should have given you more time."

"You're right," Cameron says, in the way that very much means the opposite. "You do live in an oasis, and you have no idea what it's like being a goddess of rain living on the barren sands. The responsibility. The necessity. You want me to," finger quotes, "decompress?"

"I'd rather die."

Oh. Oh shit.

How could she have forgotten that she's dealing with a goddess?

It's official, ladies and gentlemen: Tegan Maddie Fallahal is a complete fucking idiot.

"I'm sorry. I— I should have— I'm sorry."

Oh for the love of fuck, she was being metaphorical---

Cameron sighs.

Tegan sinks to the floor, not kneeling to Cameron, just sitting.

"I think... I'd like to hear more about what you mean by 'enemy of lust'." And... maybe about your thoughts on foreplay, if you're willing. I think maybe I don't properly understand what you're about."

No shit.

Cameron suddenly has an exceedingly terrible impulse, the sort of impulse she'd usually count on Eelesia to curb.

"I want you to know," Cameron says in ironic tones, "that I am indulging you. You are so thirsty for belief that you don't bother to discriminate. You gorge yourself on everything around you. I understand that it is necessary, for now, but you'll learn to grow out of this phase eventually. Not everyone you meet will benefit from your personal truth. Making up your mind is not a thing to get it over with in a hurry. Do they even have literacy where you come from?"

She bites her tongue. Hard. It would not be a good idea to laugh right now, she shouldn't she shouldn't— harder—

—fuck—

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't—I deserved that—"

Cameron snorts softly.

She shakes her head. "You're in no danger of becoming my enemy, Tegan. I think half the problem is that you can scarcely imagine what being my enemy would mean. I bet even your 'prudish foreigners' at their worst are like a children's story by comparison. My enemies start with people who believe it is a moral imperative to make sure only those they are personally attracted to should ever get to express their sexuality at all, and they only get worse from there."

"I... hadn't thought of it in quite those terms, but... they do seem to act differently toward people they're attracted to. Even within genders."

"And – yeah, okay. There's a big difference between— I should say, I do actually enjoy the process of figuring things out. I don't usually want people to just tell me the answer, while I'm still working on it myself. What I'm trying to say is, there's a difference between easily and at all. Just handing someone what they want isn't always doing right by them. Though I can see how it matters having a, context, where they know they can get what they need."

Cameron shakes her head.

"There used to be just such a pretense of civility in my society. I don't remember it well; I was too young to be a sexual being at the time. But always that was the excuse. Cause untold unnecessary suffering by coercing or violently compelling chaste life choices, all in the name of doing right. That was the idyllic past, when people still cared about intentions. Back when you might've stood a slim chance of changing someone's mind by pointing out that the results of their actions were not what they expected or intended. Back before 'I don't want to sex that person, therefore if they ever have sex at all they are raping me in effigy' became a culturally-legitimate grievance and demonizing everyone who might disagree with you as much as possible became the end in itself."