“MARCHELLE!” a familiar voice barked through the roar of flames and clatter of dishes. The kitchen crew was busy with the day’s hustle and bustle. Mistress Carmen’s breakfast might have been taken care of by you, but the rest of the Mansion’s servants still needed to eat. They worked in shifts, given the evening rotation still required food, but the morning shift was always the busiest. Not to mention, given that Mistress Carmen was among the highest of nobles, she sought to treat her employees with respect. Working for the Delacroix Mansion was a highly prestigious and lucrative affair, and came with many perks. Even the servant’s cafeteria operated with quickness and efficiency, and the food still amounted to the quality of a four-star restaurant. It wasn’t just the Mistress that reaped the benefits of her staff.
Indeed, the Mansion employees were often likened to a family. The cooks did not just cook for Mistress and her guests, they also cooked for the maids who turned down their beds in turn. At the head of the kitchen staff, was Jordan. A tall, lanky Salamander with a perpetual scowl. She seemed to be reeling on a wide-eyed Cyclops. “W-What, Miss Jordan?” she stammered. The salamander held something up to the Cyclops, you couldn’t make it out as you drew closer to the scene. “What in the bloody fuck is this!?” Jordan yells, screaming at the Cyclops over the kitchen commotion. Everyone that wasn’t the cyclops just continued about their business.
“This chicken is pinker than your fucking twat!” you hear Jordan yell. “Why the FUCK are you bringing this shit up to pass when it’s not FUCKING done cooking!?”
“The harpies wanted it rush ord-” Marchelle started, but was interrupted by the Salamander. The red lizard’s eyes went wide and you could honestly see smoke. “SO YOU SEND IT OUT FUCKING RAW!?”
Jordan was the air of authority in the kitchen. She stood tall, her red scales glistening, contrasting her white smock, just as her black hair contrasted her chef’s toque. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, keeping it out of her face as she worked. Her tail shone brilliant and flaming, but she had worked in the kitchen long enough to ensure her tail didn’t burn anyone as she moved. She glared fiercely down at the poor cyclops. “Does your brain use most of its thinking power on that giant eye of yours, or do you just not give a shit about the quality we serve here?”
“I-I just thought-”
“But that’s the thing! You didn’t bloody think! Would you serve this shit to me?”
The cyclops stood frozen, unsure of what to say. Her face contorted into a disgraced frown and she lowered her gaze. “N-No?”
“Are you FUCKING asking? WOULD YOU SERVE THIS SHIT TO ME!?”
“No, M-Miss Jordan…” Marchelle said defeatedly. The salamander threw the plate of chicken at the cyclops girl, sending food splattering down her front. “Then why the FUCK would you serve it to them!?” Marchelle grew quiet again, and Jordan shook her head. “Get the fuck out of my kitchen…”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY KITCHEN, NOW!” Jordan screamed. Marchelle tore from the kitchen, noticeably trying not to cry. You shook your head. Poor Marchelle. She was a new hire in the kitchen, and you could only hope that Jordan’s reputation wasn’t new to her.
Jordan was a renowned chef, ranked seven in the top ten recommended chefs in the world. She was a master of her craft, a bit of a legend, really. It was nigh unheard of for a Salamander to be a cook. Their combative nature often led them to competitive sports or security work. Jordan never found her aptitude in physical confrontation. Nor did she excel in mental competitions. No, Jordan found her calling in food. Her Salamander instinct led her to throw her innate drive toward being the best into her cooking.
“You.” Jordan said sharply at a passing oomukade. You notice the poor centipede girl jump visibly, startled by the Salamander’s wrath. “Make yourself useful and clean this shit up.” Jordan snapped, pointing at the shattered plate and ruined chicken on the floor. The oomukade hesitated only a brief moment, and paid the price.
“Do those antennae mean you don’t have any fucking ears!? Go get a fucking broom and clean the shit off the floor! You have a hundred hands, they’ve got to be more useful than just shoving up your twat! Fucking DO something!” Jordan barked. The oomukade skittered off, her antennae twitching nervously as the Salamander stood in the middle of the kitchen chaos. She seemed the only still thing in the kitchen. You watched her take a slow, deep breath, and dive right back in.
Jordan started out working small, assisting cooks in small hole in the wall establishments. She took to cooking like a natural and was soon running a kitchen, and eventually worked her way up to be Head Chef. She bounced around from restaurant to restaurant, seemingly climbing the ladder as news of her spread. It seemed that any restaurant that hired her saw a boom in business. Unfortunately, this also meant that a bigger, more expensive venue would take notice and lure Jordan away with the promise of a bigger kitchen and a fatter paycheck. This earned Jordan a nasty reputation.
Poorer restaurants called her a whore who would get in bed with anyone who could pony up the cash. Rivals called her a talentless hack that slept her way to the top. Even monstergirls on friendly terms would often talk of how Jordan would never find a nice husband because of how she had no people skills. Still, Jordan payed them no mind. The only thing that mattered was the food.
Nothing made the flames of Jordan’s tail flare brighter than to be in the thick of the dinner rush. She reveled in the chaos, managing to make each dish she cooked a culinary perfection. While other Salamanders reveled in combat, Jordan wielded a paring knife. The kitchen was her arena, and she was the gladiator. Every day was a battle to ensure the denizens of Delacroix Mansion were fed food that she could be proud of. Then at the end of the day while the staff’s bellies were full of Jordan’s latest culinary treat, Jordan finally relaxed. Triumphant. The groans of the overstuffed was the music that heralded her victory.
Sure, it was stressful work. Sometimes her anger would lead her into a boiling rage that reduced her subordinates to tears and it was a running joke that it was common to have dreams of getting revenge on the boss. One thing no one could deny, however, was her cooking. Anyone who worked under her never stopped learning things about the craft. Even though Jordan was abrasive and fiery to an almost unbearable level, her staff respected her abilities as a Chef, and were almost always thankful for the chance to learn under her.
Even you studied under her when you were younger. As part of your Butler training, you were taught a good foundation of cooking techniques. You simply could not be around Jordan without learning something about cooking. Now, you were above the average staff member in terms of ability, but nowhere near Jordan’s level of expertise. Still, you had to give yourself some credit, the Salamander often requested your particular assistance when you weren’t otherwise busy.
You thanked your lucky stars that you were on good speaking terms with Jordan as you made your way through the kitchen to approach. You weren’t exactly sure how she would take the news. “Jordan.” you say above the rhythmic chopping as the salamander diced an onion. In a flash, she pointed the knife at you and growled, “What!? What is it!? What does someone need NOW!?”
Then the Salamander blinked a few times as she looked toward you, the malice vanishing from her face almost instantly. “Oh… It’s you. Sorry.” she said as she stabbed the knife into the cutting board. The handle quivered slightly as Jordan took her onions and dropped them into a pan. She drizzled oil over them as she spoke. “What can I do for you today? If you’re looking for fun, come back later. If you’re free, then grab an apron. I could use some competent fucking help this morning.” she said exasperatedly. A lock of her hair had come loose from her ponytail. It hung over her eyes, the salamander too busy to bother.
“Nothing like that.” you say. You had enough fun for the morning. “News from the Mistress.”
“Is that so?” Jordan answered as she brought the pan over the flames of her own tail. “Am I fired or what?”
You shake your head. “On the contrary, Jordan. You’re to prepare a menu for the nobles Mistress will be hosting…”
Jordan froze, before clamping here eyes shut. “Fuck a duck a l’orange…” She pulled a pitiful face, “…Why couldn’t she have just fired me?” she said looking up at you exasperatedly. Her yellow, slit-pupiled eyes were quite striking. The salamander took a deep breath, then resumed cooking her onions over her tailfire. “How long?” she asked.
“Fuck me…” Jordan took a deep breath and went silent. You decide to give a few reassuring words, “I’m certain you’ll pull through. You’ve done more with less time…”
“No seriously, fuck me.” she said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she turned away, dumping the onions into a yellow slurry of beaten eggs and other vegetables. “I seriously need to unwind.” Her tail swished behind her, lifting the back of her smock up enough to tantalize you with her curved behind. Unfortunately, you hadn’t the time to take her. “Would that I could, Jordan.” you answer.
Jordan would often proposition you as she cooked. The semen of the butlers were sometimes collected and used in certain dishes for the more adventurous nobles. Jordan often collected yours personally, given your familiarity. She thought of you as her apprentice, and it was only rarely did she turn her wrath on you. She made no secret of her affections, but was never overly familiar. Jordan was married to her work, but she often came to you when the stress piled up and she needed an escape.
Sure, some might have seen it as a bit unprofessional to have sex in the kitchen, but Jordan’s favorite position was to be taken from behind. Bent over the counter to continue her work unhindered as you worked behind her, Jordan was the only monstergirl you’d ever seen to be able to multitask with a cock inside of her. No other monster was able to manage their kitchen duties if they were distracted, so fucking in the kitchen was often a quick way to bring down the wrath of the salamander upon one’s head. It wasn’t that Jordan was against sex, its that apparently only she mastered the art of multitasking while bent over. One thing that always impressed you was how amazingly clean she was about the whole affiar. She was one of a kind, to be sure.
“I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of time, Jordan.” you say with an air of regret. She sighs, “If you say so.” she says plainly, lowering her tail. She didn’t seem hurt by your rebuke, it was only ever business. “Probably for the best. You’ll need your strength for what you have to do for me.” she continued, pouring the omelette mixture into the pan and starting to fry it over her tail. You didn’t like the sound of that.
“Wait, what?” you asked apprehensively. “What do I have to do?” Jordan continued cooking her omelette mixture nonchalantly. “I need you to go out to the lake.”
“No…” you said reflexively as Jordan’s request dawned on you.
“…and I can imagine you know what I need.”
“Jordan, I just told you. I don’t have the time…”
In a flash, the salamander grabbed up her knife and pointed it at you. “And I have less time, Butler.” she said as-a-matter-of-factly. “Whatever chores you have to do, you can take fifteen minutes to go get me what I need.”
“Ralla isn’t going to just take fifteen minutes…” you say.
“Then you best learn some new pillow tricks because if I’m going to cook for a party of nobles, I need her stuff.” Jordan answered coldly. “All right…” You answer defeatedly. “I’ll get it for you…” You bow to the Head Chef, then left the kitchen.
Ral’Aman was an ancient beast of legend. A venerable terror that was renowned for sinking any ship that crossed it’s path. For centuries, sailors avoided the dreaded Abysmal Sea. Anyone foolish enough to try such waters quickly met an untimely end. Survivors were rarely found adrift at sea, telling tales of a monstrous terror that dragged the ships down to the black depths of the unforgiving ocean. Ral’Aman, Devil of the Deep, was a monster from a world known only by the oldest monsters. One of the last living remnants of an age long past.
Today, she was known as Ralla. When the Demon Lord rose to power, and changed the nature of monsters, Ral’Aman was among the last to feel the change. She shrank in stature, but not in power. Humans grew to not fear monsters as they once did, and ships started venturing into the Abyssal Sea, fully aware of the monster beneath. They sailed not out of necessity, but with dreams of slaying the legendary Ral’Aman and taking her head. With her blood would they make a name for themselves.
It was unclear what happened, or how the legendary Ral’Aman herself had come to reside in the lake outside of the Delacroix Mansion. When pressed the question, Ralla often said that she grew tired of constantly being hunted. Being a legend meant no privacy, so she went into hiding. She wouldn’t explain everything, just that no one in their right mind would look for her in the lake. Mistress Carmen let her stay as long as she didn’t cause trouble. Besides, what vampyric pride couldn’t resist having a legendary monster as lawn decoration?
You made your way along the Mansion Grounds. You stopped to say hello to Warren, the Houndmaster as you pass the stables, but could not stay to chat. The lake rippled a distance away, and the surface only grew more violent as you drew near. By the time you arrived at the lake’s shore, you saw a pair of pale white tentacles rising from the depths of the lake.
Ralla’s head broke the churning surface, you noticed the pale green of her hair covering her face. Not exactly what you’d call a natural color, Ralla said that the salts of the sea had changed her original hair color. Water cascaded down her chest, large pale breasts heaving with every breath. Her arms and sides glistened with a slick black appearance, trailing down the sides of her creamy white thighs, her skin coated with the very same substance you were there to get. Kraken’s Ink.
One thing that kept Jordan employed at the Mansion was that Ralla’s presence in the lake meant that Jordan had a constant access to fresh Kraken’s Ink. She cooked it into almost every dish she served the nobility. Indeed, nobles loved to be hosted at Delacroix Mansion, and part of the reason was the constant supply of Kraken’s Ink dishes. No other kitchen could boast such ready availability, and Jordan had grown so accustomed to having it on hand, she was unsure if she would ever be able to go back to using preserved.
“Is it that time?” Ralla spoke with an almost lyrical air, gliding closer to you over the water. Tentacles kept emerging from the water, writhing all around you as if to form a wall. Soon, you were surrounded on all sides by pale white tentacles. Still, you held your resolve, looking at Ralla’s central form as she strode onto the bank. “Well, it has been a while. Surely the supply I gave you last time is all dried up.”
“I’m afraid so, Miss Ralla.” you answer. “Jordan is in need of some more Kraken’s Ink.”
“Ara ara… It’s always about the ink…” Ralla says with a pout. She then strode in a circle around you, revealing the mass of tentacles sprouting from behind her. They trailed in her wake like the train of a dress, her tentacles disappearing into the water before their ends emerged back through the surface into the walls all around you. “I really shouldn’t even give it to you. You certainly don’t deserve it. You only ever visit when you need something. Tsk tsk tsk tsk…” she clicked as she paced her arc around you. “How cruel of you… to just use an old woman like me, then completely forget about her after you get what you want.”
“One would be hard pressed to forget the likes of you, Miss Ralla.” you say, keeping your composure. Ralla always had a flair for the dramatic, and you knew that she wasn’t really serious. She just liked to tease you, as evident by her none too subtle smile playing across her face as she moved out of your field of view. “Ara… ” she said, a bit of color flushing into her cheeks as she held up a hand in an embarrassed air. “Using your silver words to disarm an old bat like me… Ohhh…”
Ralla seemed to step up behind you. You felt something wet at your back before you felt the cool sensation of her breasts, slick with lake water, envelop the back of your head. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a hug from behind. “I can’t just stay mad at you… you’re ever too cute.”
“You flatter me, Miss Ralla.” you answer, daring to even lean back into her embrace. Sure, she was wet and lake water was seeping into your clothes, but you hadn’t the slightest hope of making it back dry, so you didn’t bother. Besides, after the heat of the kitchen, the cool sensation of the Kraken’s skin was a welcome sensation through your tattered clothes. “Is it working?” she asked as her hands moved to your shoulders. She starts rubbing them, massaging your back.
“Heh… it just might, Miss Ralla.” you admit as you feel her cool hands work across your muscles. Light shivers run down your back. “Ara~ Ara~… so tense… It’s a good thing you came to me.” Ralla cooed as you felt something around your ankles. You didn’t even need to look down, as familiar a sensation as it was to have Ralla’s tentacles entwine around you. “Please an old woman like me to help you relax~” she said, her breath playing over the back of your ear before she moved around. “…And I’ll give you as much ink as that silly salamander needs.”
Ralla slithered into your view, a wide smile playing across her face. Almost a pleasant change of pace from the grins of vampires and bats. Ralla’s smile showed no teeth, just lips of pale blue. She leaned in and you tilted your head up to accept the Kraken’s kiss. She kissed you deeply, her tongue playing over yours. You surrendered your mouth to the attentions of hers, and soon felt a slightly cold sensation rush through your very core. Ralla’s own breath filled your lungs as the Kraken bestowed a particular gift on you.
You felt the slippery tentacles grab you tight all over, coiled around your legs and arms before pulling you into the water. Ralla kissed you again, and you felt water enter your lungs. That first breath was always rough, causing you to panic and squirm. The tentacles held you tight, preventing you from flailing too hard as the Kraken pressed her lips tight against yours. You felt her slippery hands playing across your back, rubbing you reassuringly. It was always a startling experience, being dragged under the water, but Ralla would never hurt you. You soon relaxed and went limp in the Kraken girl’s embrace.
“There~” Her voice rippled through the water, only mildly distorted. Surely you had no hope of talking to her, but Ralla never had a problem talking to you. “You always make the water smell so good, ara~” she said as the tentacles kept rubbing you. You continued breathing, still getting accustomed to being underwater.
The weightless sensation coupled with the suction cups of Ralla’s tentacles massaging your muscles caused you to go almost completely slack. You gave no resistance as Ralla undressed you. The moonlight above shone through the clear lake water, but Ralla’s face appeared indignant in your vision. “Ara… don’t look up there… You only rarely come down here. You should only be looking at me…” she said. She opened her mouth and seemed to exhale. Black ink flooded the water and drowned out all of the light around you.
Your vision steadily went completely black before a light cut through the darkness. Ralla started to glow a soft, pale light, becoming the only thing you could see in the black void around you. You had no sense of direction. Up, down, left, right. All meaningless concepts as you floated in the blackness. Ralla moved closer to you, pressing your bodies close. “There… now you have no choice.” she said with a girlish giggle. “But we’re not just here for looks, are we?~”
You felt something slither along your skin before your legs were pulled apart. Two tentacles entwined around your length, rubbing it between themselves as your length was coated in a kind of slime. Even against the cool water, the tentacles soon had you fully erect as their slick attentions played across your most sensitive parts. Ralla floated down between your legs, splayed open by her tentacles. “Aha~ there it is…” she said before swimming close. You felt her hair brush against the insides of your thigh before her tongue snaked out to run along the underside if your cock.
You couldn’t help but twitch as a jolt of pleasure coursed up your spine, giving you goosebumps as the Kraken gave a little moan. “Ara~… Salty~” she laughed. “It reminds me of the sea…” she said before taking your tip into her mouth. You could not help but moan out, but the only thing that escaped your mouth was bubbles as Ral’Aman herself suckled your tip, her tongue playing along the glans as her tentacles squeezed and rubbed your base.
You writhed under her attentions before your member started twitching. A bubbly moan escaped Ralla as your cock started to leak pre onto her tongue. “Mn~, delicious~” she said, pulling away. “But you can’t let go just yet… I’m not done having my fun with you.” she said playfully before you felt something soft envelop your cock. You craned your neck to look down, and saw your length disappear into the slippery depths of Ralla’s cleavage. She pressed her breasts together around your member, and glided them along your length. “Ara, doesn’t that feel good?~ At least an old woman’s body is good for something.” she said playfully. You opened your mouth to protest, but even if you could vocalize more than bubbles, it would have turned into a moan in your throat.
“Should I let you cum?” Ralla cooed up at you, knowing you can’t answer. It was her way of teasing you. “Well, you’re not saying anything, so I guess you don’t want to… Ara~ you just want to keep feeling my breasts glide up and down, yes?” she giggled. You look down at her pleadingly, a pained look across your face as the Kraken’s slick endowment brings you right to the edge of orgasm. “All right, I’ll be nice~” she said softly as she leaned down to take your tip into her mouth. The tip of her tongue played with your tip, and the dual assault of sensation sent you right over the edge.
Electricity surged through your spine as your cock erupted, sending your seed right into the Kraken’s mouth. Her tentacles massage every muscle not currently being tended by her breasts and tongue. Your entire body tenses, then relaxes. You float spent in the water as the tendrils caress you lovingly.
Ral’Aman floats up to wrap her arms around you, and hug you close. “Ara~ You came a lot… What a lewd little Butler you are, covering my tongue with your salty pleasure~” she laughed. “It’s okay though. That you’re so perverted that even an old woman like me can drive you over the edge is all right.” she teased, her smile literally glowing with the bio-luminescent glow among the black lake water.
Ralla wrapped her legs around you, tilting you so that you were floating on your back, and she was straddling you. Or at least, that’s as far as you could tell was happening given your lack of bearings in the dark void Ralla’s ink created for you. Her glowing white thighs rested at your sides as you felt her ankles lock behind you, drawing you close. She placed her hands on your chest and you felt her rock a bit. Her slick lower folds glided along your half-erect member, coaxing it back to full arousal. “Ara ara… look at that. Your body is so perverted, you want to take advantage of an old woman just by brushing up against her. How lewd~”
The laughter of the Kraken echoed in the darkness around you as she leaned close, kissing your neck and whispering into your ear. “It’s okay, though. I’ll let you enjoy my body any time you want~” The currents of the water caused her hair to float in the water, ever so lightly brushing across your face. “I’m just want you to enjoy it, whenever you desire, and for how ever long you wish, mhmhmhmhm~”
Had you the ability to speak, you would have reassured her about her body, but as you could not, you instead placed your hands on the Kraken’s hips. Her tentacles allowed you some freedom of movement, and you pulled Ralla’s waist toward you, sinking your length into her inky depths. “Araaaaahn…” the Kraken moaned as you slowly entered her. You felt her legs clench around you, only causing your length to further press into her, stretching her open. You felt her muscles contract around you affectionately, and you had to tense in an effort to gain control just to stop yourself from letting loose inside of her.
The Kraken’s moans died off as you came to rest inside of her, bottoming out. Her heavy breathing echoed around you. “You seem bigger every time…” she pants. You give a few small, slow strokes, causing Ralla to moan again. “Ara ara, teasing me now? How cruel of you to tease an old woman…” she said between breaths.
You pick up the pace, driving yourself to stretch out the Kraken girl, plowing her open again and again in her own lake. You reach up to cup her breast, and she arcs her back to press them into her hands. Her long hair drifts in the currents created by your copulation, and the thin strands tickle slightly as they brush against your skin. Ralla’s moans come faster and faster as she clutches you ever tighter. Her breasts soon press against your chest, her arms thrown around you. Her arms, legs, and tentacles squeeze you close, even preventing you from fully withdrawing. Even her slick folds grip you tight, her insides seeming to suck you in as if not wanting to let go. Ralla’s eyes are clenched tight, the Kraken biting her lip as your cock plumbs her most delicate depths.
The Kraken’s embrace tenses almost enough to cause pain, you feel the very cartilage of your bones strain as she squeezes you tighter. A scream of ecstasy erupts all around you as you feel her insides clamp around you, not letting go. Her muscles spasm, and she puts a hand over her own mouth to muffle herself. You feel her folds squeeze you and milk you, the sensation driving you over the edge as you cum for the second time.
Ralla’s tentacles relent, and she collapses to float on top of you. The water made her feel light as a feather, but her tentacles caused her to press against you. You floated there for what seemed like an eternity, enjoying the feeling of the legendary kraken lying next to you. You took a deep breath, and tasted her on the water. Salt, algae, and squid ink. Not unpleasant by far, but you did still have preparations to make. You stirred after a fair while and roused the Kraken, who had drifted off to sleep in her post-orgasmic afterglow. “Hmm?” she said, waking back up, then gave a deep sigh.
“Ara ara, all right…” she said dejectedly. She stretched out, pressing her breasts against your face before giggling again. “Is is my fault I wanted to know what it’s like to wake up next to you?” You roll your eyes in lieu of an answer before her tendrils wrap around you, and you felt yourself being pulled up.
Light sears through your vision as you escape the inky cloud of water. You feel yourself break the surface and are deposited on the bank of the lake. You cough water out of your lungs as your eyes adjust to the light. Moments later, Ralla slithers out to the bank, holding your sodden clothes. “I think I should have taken these off before I brought you in…” she says with a hint of regret.
You laugh, shaking your head. You walk up to the Kraken girl, and hug her tight. “Ara… so familiar… I think you just wanted to feel me up again.” she laughs. “Guilty as charged.” you say lightheartedly before collecting your wet clothes. “Sorry about those…” she said, but you waved her off dismissively. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to walk back naked.” Ralla giggles again. “Well, you can feel me up anytime, little Butler.” she says.
You dig around in the pockets of your jacket before withdrawing a small jar. You hand it over to Ralla, “If you wouldn’t mind, please?” you say. Ralla covers her face by putting a hand to her cheek. “Ara ara… it’s so unladylike… Look away…” she says before taking the jar. You roll your eyes again, “Ralla, I’ve seen it before, and I’m standing here naked.”
She answers you with another about of “Ara, ara…” before she relents. She brings the jar to her lips before making a lewd face at you. She runs her tongue along her mouth, making eyes at you. An inky black liquid drips over her lips and falls into the jar. She continues to fill it before she hands it back to you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Try not to be a stranger, all right?” she asks with an air of hope in her voice.
“I promise.” you answer back. You really don’t mean to be, but you’re often so busy. You make a mental note to see her some more before you wave her off. “Oh, and there’s a little bit of you, too, in that jar!” the Kraken says. “But I’m certain the nobles won’t mind!~” Ralla calls before she disappears back into the lake as you make your way back to the Mansion. You’d have to give the Kraken’s Ink to Jordan and then see about doing something regarding your clothes. A change would be needed at the very least, but you’d definitely need to pay a visit to Charlotte to have her repair your tattered uniform.
And that wasn’t counting all of your other preparations.
It was going to be a long day, indeed.