This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/YukiteruAmano92 on 2025-12-10 14:52:21+00:00.
Previous | Interlewd LII | Interlewd LIII | Interlewd LIV | Interlewd LV | Interlewd LVI | Next | First
---Chamber---
---Ingvar’s perspective---
I’m standing on top of a cliff under a midnight sun, bouncing excitedly from leg to leg as I watch the capsule approach from the South, framed by my planet’s rings behind it.
It’s about 8°C out here right now, about as warm as it ever gets this far North.
Sun, warmth, customers to greet… could a boy ask for more?
The craft sets down on the rocky ground, depositing its baggage onto the top of the luggage lift.
The suitcases are swallowed down into the suite beneath my feet as the private transport’s door swings up and open.
The pair who emerge, though a little dishevelled after the late night they’ve presumably just arrived from, are two of the best dressed and best looking people I’ve ever seen!
Despite having lived on a planet with a small refugee population of them my entire life, this is my first time ever seeing a Don in the flesh.
She’s dressed in an absolutely gorgeous blue and silver dress, green at her forearms.
Two heads taller than me with blue skin, white hair done up in Norse wedding braids, glowing white eyes blinking blearily and four thin, four fingered arms, two of which she has draped about her man as she leans on him, her four fangs bared in a loving smile.
Her claws are painted silver and she has a beautiful ring on her upper left hand, a good match both to the dress and the stunning silver and sapphire crown she has on at her forehead!
As visually striking as the alien woman is, my attention doesn’t rest on her for more than a second before it’s captured by her new husband.
His build, his height and his hair colour are such that, with only the addition of a hammer, a beard, red contact lenses and Norse clothing, he’d make the most convincing Þórr ever!
He’s more than a head taller than me and looks like he might be twice as heavy!
Long, curly copper hair spills over the arm draped across his broad shoulders.
His handsome, boyish face is enhanced by dark circles under his eyes and a loving smile directed at his wife.
On him, beardlessness has somehow ended up looking more handsome than if he had a beard(!)
The style of the wedding suit he wears immediately marks him as nonNorse, even if his surname and unshaven face wouldn’t have (some men on this planet do keep themselves clean shaven and it’s not as if there’s any law that states only those with Norse patronymic surnames are allowed to settle here(!))
Green just became my new favourite colour for men’s wedding clothes, this man wears it so well!
On his top half he has a tailed, medium green jacket which comes down to the backs of his knees. It’s trimmed in a darker green with red metal buttons and lapel ornaments of the same.
The arm I can see (for not being entwined between his wife’s and wrapped around the small of her back) is girthy looking!
His trousers are tight enough that the complete absence of any jiggle in his legs as he walks reveals there not to be so much as a gram of wasted fat on his body… as well as *ahem* the other appealing thing they suggest(!)
I have to take a moment to squash the little seed of jealousy that sprouts inside me, imagining myself in that Don woman’s position!
It’s the cost of working at a resort primarily frequented by honeymooners; I see a lot of cute guys looking the most gorgeous they’ll ever look and they’re all off limits(!)
Well, all of them except the scumbags willing to flirt with their hotel concierge mere hours after getting married and sometimes in front of their spouses… but all the good looks in Miðgarðr aren’t enough to rescue them from undesirability!
Gods, I need to find myself a boyfriend and quickly(!)
As the lovely couple’s feet touchdown on the rocky clifftop, I throw my arms wide and greet “Welcome to Fantasy Cliffs Resort Suites and thank you so much for choosing us, Mr and Mrs Taylor!” with enthusiasm I don’t need to fake.
They both manage to tear their gaze away from eachother to look at me.
The emerald green eyes belonging to the handsome man flick between mine as he notices their colours… but he doesn’t react to it other than that.
“My name is Ingvar! I’ll be your concierge but don’t worry; as soon as I’ve given you guys the tour and safety instruction, I’ll be out of your way.”
The subtlest frown of confusion passes over the man’s face as he says “Nice to meet you, Ingvar.” in a hoarse voice, speaking English accented New Norse, before turning to mutter “Safety instruction?” into his smirking wife’s long, pointy blue ear.
Hmmm, that’s an unfortunate but definite hit to his attractiveness!
He’s not too bright, is he?… He hasn’t understood that we can’t just let guests turn up and use it without telling them how to use it first! It wouldn’t be safe!
“Do you have any objection to my beginning the tour?” I smile, bouncing on the balls of my feet.
“No… go right ahead…” shrugs the offworlder speaking my language.
“Excellent! Fantasy Cliffs Resort Suites spreads across 100km2 of arctic wilderness. If you were visiting in Winter, it would likely be around -100°C and climate control fields would be absolutely essential but, since it’s currently Summer, that’s not necessary. Behind you…” I gesture past them as the craft takes off “…you’ll see the edge of a 400m tall cliff. Rest assured; the base of this cliff is lined with momentum arresting fields that will be active as long as anyone is atop this plateau so you won’t die if you fall off. We do, however, advise against falling off if it can be helped, since you will subsequently be stuck down there until one of our pods can come to retrieve you. Should you require assistance, our central office is 6km that way…” I point Northwest “…and can, likewise, be reached most conveniently by pod. More conveniently, you might call us via our own closed network, without the need to turn on your holopad signal and be bombarded by calls and messages from outside, as we understand that privacy is often of great importance to our guests. On that front, I have good news (though it’s definitely bad news if you were hoping to socialise while here(!)) While FCRS has more than 100 suites and is growing in popularity, you share this plateau with only one other suite which, as of the moment, is unbooked for the duration of your stay! This means, Mr and Mrs Taylor, that you will have as much privacy here as you choose! If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the suite itself, give you the safety instruction and then I’ll leave you to it!”
“Al…right?” says the mouthwateringly goodlooking himbo, his dark bagged eyes narrowed.
I turn and walk down the slope to the top of the carved stone ramp.
I walk to the bottom and stop, turning around to explain to the pair “In Winter, it would be necessary to have two doors engaged in an airlock system here to stop the entire suite massively dropping in temperature every time either of you entered or exited. As it’s Summer currently, we have not engaged the airlock but you may do so from the suite’s control panel if you wish. It only depends on what matters more to you, getting in and out quickly or keeping the interior temperature at your level of comfort!”
“Makes sense.” nods the redhead.
The door opens and I turn around to step through.
“Wow… definite Bond villain vibes here(!)” quips the man upon seeing the suite’s open plan livingroom and kitchen that stretch away to our left.
“Very much so, Mr Taylor(!)” I chuckle.
Luxurious furnishings sit atop imported, rich red stone flooring.
The high, vaulted ceilings are just the bare rock of the cliff the suite is excavated into.
The far wall is lined with floor to ceiling windows that look out over the barren, rocky valley hundreds of metres below.
“If you’ll look this way…” I say, gesturing to the wall on my right as I reach the base of the ramp “…you’ll see your luggage sitting on the lift that carried it down from up top. Next to it, you’ll see a fullbody styliser for any hair styling and makeup needs you might have while here. On the other side, you’ll see a tailoriser for any garment and footwear needs and beside that…” I point to the cubic metre cavity in the wall “…you’ll see an extralarge nanoforge for any props etc. you might want to print while here… If you wish for anything too large or in any other way difficult to print, you can call the reception desk and I or a colleague will check our storage for something matching your parameters which can then be delivered to you by pod. If you’ll follow me this way, I’ll show you the suite up here first before taking you down for the briefing on the main attraction!”
I walk left, past a mirror, hung on the far wall from the window, and stand with my back to the ramp down.
I gesture out at the lounging area in front of me and say “I’m sure you both know how livingrooms work so I won’t waste time explaining that(!) I would just like to put your minds at ease regarding the windows.” smiling at them as they catch me up “Those are octuple glazed panels of transparent polymer, so th...
Content cut off. Read original on https://old.reddit.com/r/HFY/comments/1pj4jfm/there_will_be_scritches_pt216/