"Not that long.  A few years, maybe.  It's not a bad place for someone like me, and someone will have to make me quite an offer to get me out of it."

"Tips... hm.  All the best men are long since taken, so ignore anyone who's single and go for the throat on one who isn't.  Have you done much courting of your own kind, or only pleased yourself with slaves, before this?"

"Oh, are you in the 'special handling' queue? I've heard about that. It sounds like you expect to be able to pick and choose among your offers. Have you already had some offers that you've turned down?"

It's not that Opalyn doesn't want to answer his question, as that learning about offers is a higher priority.

"There's always plenty of people ready to lowball every inmate and hope they get lucky with a sucker.  I'm not in a special handling queue, myself, did you get offered one, by someone?"

Opalyn continues to feel confused about who gets what kind of offer, and what it's doing for her that Trāho filed that extra paperwork saying her arrest papers were faulty. She remembers that everyone gets offers, but she has the idea that the wrongfully arrested people get better offers, and she's worried she's just insulted this guy.

"Oh, sorry, I just assumed, since you were talking about waiting for a really good offer. I don't really know how anything works, here. It's all very confusing."

Maybe if she presents as one-down, he'll take pity on her and help her. And it's not much of an act!

"Well, you heard about a special handling queue from somewhere?"

"During my intake interview, it came out that my paperwork was incorrect. Whoever had me arrested put down some information about me that isn't true. And apparently that means I might eventually get better offers? I think?"

He smiles, then.  "Oh.  I'd worried someone was messing with you.  That's true, but it's not because there's a special queue, it's because they know they need to make you a better offer if you've got a chance of getting out all on your own.  Can't sell a decrepit riding-zebra-unicorn for a mansion, to someone who's already three-quarters down the road, after all."

"Heh, Right. Obviously."

Riding-zebra-unicorn? Opalyn wonders again how language translation actually works here.

"Anyway, to answer your previous question, I'm not usually the dominant in my relationships, and I've never taken a slave."

Opalyn suspects that these people do not realize that dominance and submission might occasionally run counter to real-world power in other domains, but wants to see what happens if she just continues to tell the truth!

"I can guess you aren't in the mood to talk about what you've done before.  But if you haven't been in a mostly-female setting, or needed to pursue a man already taken, before this--it is rather different.  Exciting, if your fate is on the line.  But you will need to do more with yourself than look pretty and wait to be taken."

Opalyn knows an opening when she sees one! As long as there's a multi-colored rotating spotlight shining right on it!

She tilts her head to one side and gently puts her index finger on his bare chest.

"What kind of thing would get your attention?"

He smiles, and points to a nearby sign.

Opalyn lightly traces a figure-eight on his chest with her finger.

"Huh. Well, I notice that you're telling me I have to fight for you, and that sure does seem convenient for you. Maybe I do and maybe I don't, but I can't tell yet if you're worth it. I'm willing to play with you, but I'm not willing to just... throw sexual spaghetti at the wall to see what sticks."

Opalyn is pretty sure that's going to come out sounding like a riding-zebra-unicorn in the translation.

"If you don't want to say what you want out loud, you can show me, or you can leave this conversation still wondering what it would have been like."

He picks off a stray flower petal that settled on the sleeve of her dress at some point, a shade of vivid green that isn't quite glowing, considers it.  "I wonder how this tastes," he says, and then pops it in his mouth.  "Mm.  Well, now I know and you don't."

Opalyn is still not convinced she even wants this guy but she's too stubborn to back down now. Back home, she was always sought-after for her combination of femininity and, well, awesomeness. Here, femininity is not a scarce resource, and Opalyn hasn't yet shown them that her brand of awesomeness is more awesome than theirs.

It's possible she shouldn't press too hard right now as she has no status-chips with which to gamble, but he is cute, and his banter is fun, and flirting is better than going back to her room and crying don't think about that.

"Well, you could describe it. Or better yet, give me a taste." She moves her finger up to his lips.

His tongue darts out, quickly runs over her finger.  "Now I know what the flower and your finger tastes like, and you still know nothing."

Oh yeah, well, I know what your tongue feels like,

Opalyn doesn't say, because that would be stupid.

Why is flirting so hard.

Why is flirting so hard, here?

It's because she's used to being pursued, not pursuing. Maybe she should take a page from the alpha male playbook?

What's in that playbook again? It's not like she has it memorized.

Opalyn puts her hand behind the guy's neck, pulls him down, and forcibly kisses him.

Do his lips part enough for her to get a taste of whatever remains of that flower?

He'll use his teeth to crush the flower petal, which he's kept mostly intact inside his own mouth this whole time, and pass the whole thing into her mouth when she kisses him!  It tastes pretty bitter once crushed!

She tightens her grip on the back of his neck and forces the flower back into his mouth, deepening the kiss. It's mutually assured repulsion.

Well, he'll try to push the flower petal right back at her, then, with his own tongue!

While still maintaining headlock and liplock, Opalyn works both their bodies around until she can reach more of those vivid green flowers. She's reaching, trying to grab a whole fistful of the petals at once...

What a fun flirtation they're having!  He'll try to grab some of the glowing flowers.

Oh HELL no!

Opalyn gets to her flowers first and crushes them in her hand and pulls back just enough to try to start stuffing them into his face...