"Thank you." The woman smiled and rested her hand on his upper arm, then let her gaze linger on him while she stepped forward, hand sliding off his arm lazily as she entered the closet and let drop the towel as she began to investigate.
It didn't take long to find some underwear that fit. Once she figured out how Natasha sorted period panties, skinny panties, and regular panties, she quickly found something comfortable in her own size. The hug of silky-smooth cloth around her hips, cupping everything and gently compressing, left her feeling warm and comfortable. These were masturbation panties—the sort a woman wore when she wanted to feel good things herself, rather than impress someone with fancy lace.
As interested as she felt in the gothic and scene stuff, she didn't want to feel that confined. She passed over it until she found, in the far back, on a slightly dusty hanger, a feather-light sundress. Even better, it was white. On pulling it out, she discovered that it was quite transparent, however, and laughed as she put it back. She loved to wear white, but the contrast she enjoyed between her skin and the cloth couldn't be achieved with something that may as well not be there, for all the covering it did. Maybe she could convince Natasha to part with it some other time, though. For now, she just needed something to cover herself, to keep these very delicious men around her from jumping her.
Well, from jumping her before whatever official business was done.
She hummed a few lines as she combed through the clothing until she came upon a white t-shirt with a faded teal star. She pulled it on, and though it was tight and hugged her every curve, it as light enough she didn't feel too confined.
Now in shirt and underwear, she began the search for either a skirt or some pants. This went more quickly, as she found some grey yoga pants and pulled them on, then tied the drawstring. Finally, she knew she would need shoes and socks. She grabbed a pair of comfortable-looking sports shoes and a pair of socks, then sat on the floor and finished the last bit of dressing before she began to vigorously rub the towel turban as she unwound it.
It came off, and the woman ran her hands through it, eyes bright as she turned to look at Vordan. "What do you think? Looks good enough for your floor, doesn't it?"
Nothing was hidden, really. The shapes were easily seen, and a point marked either side of the star on her chest as she opened her mouth and let her tongue slide on her lip ring, the metal flicking back and forth.
~*~
K remained still and quiet, unconscious for these strange events as his mind took him back into Hell, to a scene where he stood before an all-black creature with a goat's head and a well-tailored suit. It spoke, but its mouth never moved, and it stood across from K on a narrow bridge passing over a chasm. Behind the goat-man, a platform and a desk with a plush chair. K stared up at the being before him, rather than down at the raging fires below, and though he opened his mouth and thought he spoke, no words emerged.
He tried again, but nothing.
The third time, a tiny sound escaped his throat. Little more than a squeak, that sound made the bridge shatter. K fell down and down towards the flames, falling past level after level as black, hairless humanoids pointed and laughed. The rest of K's surroundings began to crack apart, then shattered explosively.
He woke within the dream to a soft tickle on his back and looked behind himself. Black flesh, entirely black eyes lacking obvious iris or pupil, and pointed ears. Her figure was not only an hourglass, but so exaggerated she looked cartoonish, especially with her heels so high that her foot pointed straight downward. She wore a suit with a pencil skirt, and her black tongue peeked between her lips as she pressed K's pen against his back, writing as K heard his own voice dictating from everywhere but his own, sealed mouth.
Calmness grew within K, until she sank the pen suddenly into his back.
Again, he woke within the dream, unable to flee his own unconscious.
~*~
When the robot began its work scrying, it found it could see the writing from K's skin clearly: notes about hell, about all of its levels and inhabitants, about the rules of the place and K's thoughts about it. The robot could see the pen move, writing. It could see a very female, but also very genderless creature of pitch-black writing on the patient's back while it heard K speak, eloquent sentences and detailed descriptions.
On his arms and legs had been detailed drawings of landmarks, of the demons, of the areas cordoned off for punishing sinners, and even a few types of demons, which included the black creature who wrote on his back, a creature made of clinking stone that towered and spoke with a voice K described as 'robotic', tiny naga-like amphibious creatures with genderless and humanoid torsos and spikes along their spines and arms, and beasts that hunted in the outer rings seeking the blood of those that wandered inside. Those last beasts had only a few half-scrawled sketches, with notes about how they could hide within the dark, eternally-long shadows of the outer ring, and how they hunted in packs.
K's clothing was visible, but never his skin. Ink, dirt, cloth, all could be seen, but not K himself.
And if the robot went deeper, an image of a goat-headed black creature in a suit. If it went still deeper, an image of a well with a hand dipping in, but though it cupped and grasped, it always came up empty, unable to grasp the water