Legend of Krystal
From Create Your Own Story
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Does she: | Does she: | ||
| - | + | *[[LoK Unzip her flightsuit just a bit further, to cool off.]] | |
| - | + | *[[LoK Concentrate and finish the mission.]] | |
Revision as of 09:38, 30 November 2014
This story is loosely based on the Playshapes flash game of the same name and, more directly, the original Legend of Krystal Choose Your Own Adventure, which was moved to Chyoo2/CYOA. The story contains adult themes and content and should not be viewed by those under 18. It is a work of fanfiction and the Author/Authors claim no rights over the characters, names, places, and other Intellectual Property within.
Set in the dark vacuum of the void, on the outskirts of the densely inhabited Lylat Star System, orbits a blue-green gem of a world known as Sauria. Beautiful, harsh, and deadly. A moon rather than a proper planet, the gas giant it orbits is so large that it is on the border of becoming a small sun in its own right, the low grade fusion reactions at its core heating its moons enough to create an oasis of warm climates and blue oceans in this otherwise frozen and backwards area of the star system. Many strange creatures inhabit this world, both organic and otherwise, but at present time there is only the one flying blue fox.
In a battered Arwing bearing the scars of recent battles, our young vixen speeds over jagged mountains and deep valleys. Every bit as beautiful and elegant as her craft, slightly opened flightsuit revealing a hint of luscious cleavage. She grips the joystick tightly, teeth on edge and eyes unfocused as if she's seeing somewhere far away. Her name is Krystal, and this is her story.
He'd dumped her again. Her mind kept circling back to that, every bit as incredulous as she was the first time she'd though it. Sure, Team Starfox had being doing a lot of dangerous work in the aftermath of the Aparoid Invasion, but she'd thought he'd gotten over his "Chivalrous" streak a long time ago. Apparently not. Either that, or he'd been looking for a way to break things off without directly admitting how rocky their relationship had become, and had run to a familiar story. So like Fox: None braver when people were trying to kill him, but a terrible coward in regular life. Probably with more than a little encouragement from Miyu, the Humie bitch. After all, what better way to show solidarity than a highly public relationship between a legendary local hero and an influential Federation politician?
The worst part was that she didn't even have any candidates for a good rebound lay. Her old crone of a tutor had drilled into her that masturbation was "vulgar" at a young age (The bitch) and she still felt uncomfortable doing it, substituting meditation whenever she could. Neither was doing the trick now, and she'd been increasingly frustrated and horny over the last few weeks. Wolf had sent her an absolutely infuriating voicemail inviting her to come see him when she "Came to her senses" and "Decided she wanted a real Alpha Male to teach her a females proper position", and had been promptly crossed off the list. Falco was a dick in general, Slippy... No. Just no. Everyone else she knew that fit even a tenth of her criteria were either old and married or working too closely with Fox to be workable without looking like the stereotypical slutty vengeful ex. Bills had piled up, most of the good Merc Work for clients that were unlikely to stab her in the back or try to trick her into bombing their own facilities for insurance scams was either reserved for multi-member bands or too low paying, and the only jobs she could find to keep flying were low-level missions like this one: Difficult, critically lacking in glamor, and above all tedious as hell.
So here she was, howling across the empty skies of Sauria (The promised post-war Aid Fleet notably absent), trying to pin down that damned Mining Corp courier robot before her Arwing failed in midair and plowed her into a mountainside. At least she could take solace in the fact that the Pirate Cruiser that had hit her came off at least as bad, if not even worse. In hindsight, she'd probably only survived because they were geared for taking out heavy bulk freighters with long-range missiles and didn't know how to run their point-defenses worth a damn. Maybe they'd get stranded here and eaten by the natives.
Not that it helped her deal with the damned heat much, she noted as she glared of the condensation on the inside of her cockpit. Her climate control had been freaking out in planetary atmospheres for a month now, and the recent battle damage had made it even worse: not only was it doing nothing to combat the combined effect of the nearby massive Gas Giant and distant Lylat sun, but actually producing its own additional heat in what might have been some insidious plot by her flight computer to boil her in her cockpit.
She writhed in her seat, the flightsuit feeling constrictive against her sweat-soaked fur. She toyed with the idea of unzipping a bit to let some of the heat out of her suit, or even strip it off entirely. The thought was tantalizingly naughty, especially with the heat starting to make her "condition" even worse, but this was no place to get careless. There could be Sharpclaws about, after all...
Does she:
*LoK Unzip her flightsuit just a bit further, to cool off. *LoK Concentrate and finish the mission.
Location:Krystal's Arwing (Flying)
| Status | ||
| Health | Uncomfortably Warm | Equipment: |
| MP | 0 | |
| Conquests | 0 | |
Or, if you want to start where you left off, jump to a location in the story
