Earning the Respect of a True Pimp

Pimpington yawns as he dodges, parries, and avoids every attack Sam and Meri throw at him. He glides to the right after the Princess brings her big sword down in a mighty strike. On the left, his sword catches Meri’s, and the pimp circles the blade around his own to push back.

Before he can thrust towards the Shield Maiden’s armor, Sam is back at it with a horizontal attack from the opposite side.

The surprisingly agile older man holds onto his pimp hat and backflips, evading the titanic slab of iron like it only a minor nuisance. His rapier plunges into Sam, but thanks to Meri pressing forward and demanding his attention, it only leaves a glancing blow.

“Y’all really beat Left and Right Hoe with skills like this? Fo’ real?” He scoffs, ducking under Meri’s latest attack. As the lanky man rises, he pushes the flat palm of his hand against Meri’s breastplate, knocking her off balance.

“Ah!” She gasps, taking a hit to her pride more than anything else. Pimpington’s palm thrust was so fast and smooth that she didn’t even have a chance to activate her Constant Cleats.

“I guess them bitches are mo’ out of practice than I am,” He sighs, a bored, disappointed sigh. The villain clutches his bejeweled rapier, standing over the toppled Shield Maiden. He prepares a mighty thrust aimed right at Meri’s armor from above.

“This isn’t working, Myaster...!” Snow looks at me with concern.

“I know...” We only have seconds to prevent any damage. Should Zutiria use Shaddaswap? ...No, switching Sam’s position with Meri wouldn’t do much. It might stutter him and cancel the attack, but... not much advantage would be gained.

We have the bigger number here. What we need is momentum more than anything else. 

“Meri, switch! Sam, hit her shield!” I clench my fists, leaning in further to the screens hovering over my desk.

My tactic unfolds. As Pimpington rears back his blade to thrust downwards into Meri’s face, Meri switches to her tower shield, and Sam slams down on it with all of her strength.

“The fuck y’all bitches think you’re-” Pimpington is confused, and that brief moment is all it takes to gain a slight advantage and delay him from making his attack on Meri.

“REFLECT!” The Shield Maiden shouts. Her stamina meter trickles down a bit, and a big explosion of force ruptures outward from her red-shining shield.

“FUCK-” Pimpington is sent hurtling towards one of the stone statues, and when he hits it, the structure of Lemira shatters in an instant. The disgraced knight cries out in pain as the heavy rocks fall on top of him. He’s clearly fully covered in Steel Soul, but a massive piece of the statue smashes his head in, causing it to bleed.

“We did it...! W-We pushed back a bit...!” Meri smiles happily as Sam helps her to her feet.

“Don’t get scared, Meri! It’s just like I keep saying, we can do anything if we work together!” The loopy Princess reminds her, prompting an awkward blush from her concerned friend.

‘Yes, nothing says teamwork like one of us standing around, unable to help whatsoever...’ Zutiria adds with dour disappointment.

The pimp rises from the pile of rubble, shaking some plant matter off of his legs that accumulated thanks to falling into the row of rose bushes. “Phew, that shit caught a pimp off guard, ya feel me? Was friends with a few Shield Maidens in the old days, shoulda been prepared fo’ something like that...” He sighs, perhaps thinking of times gone by. “Not a bit deal, though. Just a few scratches.”

Despite how heavy the statue of his devoted follower must have been, aside from the head wound that bleeds superficially, Pimpington appears entirely unharmed. He isn’t just shrugging it off to look tough. The Reflect didn’t do much to him at all... it can’t just be thanks to his diamond-encrusted armor, either. He’s an experienced adventurer, no doubt in my mind he was at the very least a low-to-mid Gold rank.

If his lack of damage wasn’t bad enough, he raises his left hand, and we watch as he prepares another unknown effect from one of his gaudy bling rings. The square-shaped emerald glistens with a comforting green light, and my adventurers go into defensive stances at first sight of the magical luminescence.

This isn’t sitting right with me...

“Myaster, you don’t think those rings are ALL attacks, do you?” Peri tilts her head and wipes some nervous sweat out from under her brow. I almost get a look at her eyes, but her paw covers them up, and her bangs fall back into place as soon as she removes it.

“No, I was just thinking the same. Girls, try and get closer. Something tells me this isn’t an attack.” It turns out my ability to read facial expressions and body language is much more helpful when fighting people versus when fighting monsters.

I’m almost positive that the effect of his emerald ring isn’t offensive just from a quick look. There’s not a hint of danger on his face, and his posture is relaxed...

Right as Sam and Meri attempt to head my words and march on their enemy, Pimpington smirks. The emerald bursts even brighter light out into the golden boss room. With a sigh of relief, the light covers Pimpington’s body and glistens. The wound from under the boss’s pimp hat vanishes completely, as does the blood pooled down his face.

Shit...

“Dude, that’s cheating! Stupid rose pimp, man!” Sam stomps her armored boot on the golden floor, pouting.

“No way...!” Meri wavers a bit. Seeing how their attack was brushed off and undone ultimately can’t be good for morale.

‘That was an earth magic-styled heal,’ Zutiria remarks as she studiously adjusts her glasses. ‘Those rings are even more troublesome than we thought, Sir...’

“Nice, ain’t they?” Pimpington shows off his sparkling hands to the girls. “When you’re an adventurer, ya end up accumulatin’ tons of useful trinkets over the years ‘n shit. Course, when I fell from grace, I had most of the shit in my Guild storage confiscated...” The man sighs wistfully. No doubt he remembers all the insane treasure that used to be part of his arsenal. “Unluckily for all y’all bitch-asses, I kept my bling rings.”

More than anything, I’m just thankful that the girls don’t have to fight this disgraced pimp during the height of his career. It sounds like Pimpington hasn’t been in any real fights for years. Even though his skills can hardly be called ‘dull’, the thought that things could have been much, much worse than they already are brings me a small amount of comfort.

Just when I’m about to raise my voice and announce the next plan of attack, Pimpington addresses me directly. “Mr. Masta, a word?”

I could tell the girls to advance and continue their double attack, but I end up turning on the voice transmission. I’m not sure why... perhaps the fact that he actually wants to talk gives me a slight pause. “What could you possibly want, pimp?”

“I would like to apologize,” He says, placing his hand on his heart and doing a respectful bow, much to the shock of myself, the girls, and the kitties back home alike. “This pimp started tonight’s encounter by tauntin’ you and implyin’ you treated these girls as disposable. When y’all entered this chamber, I thought it coulda been luck that brought ya this far, but naw, man. This shit was colored by my past experiences with Guild Masters and the Association as a whole, ya dig? Yet... now that I’m fightin’ em I can see just how rough, sloppy and unpolished these adventurers of yours are-”

Sam clenches her sword. “Fuck you, bit-”

“BUT. This pimp can tell how y’all work first hand. I can’t hear you, but you’re talkin’ to ‘em and giving ‘em advice ain’t ya? You’re able to bring out the potential of these three rookies... well-” Pimpington stops mid-sentence to look at Zutiria. “Two of their potentials, at least.”

‘Not my fault someone has a bullshit anti-magic ring that forces me into a support role,’ Zutiria sighs.

“My point is, ya make ‘em stronger than the sum of their parts, ya dig? I ain’t never seen a Guild Master so involved in their adventurer’s quests before... and if a pimp can be honest, I like what ya got going on.” Pimpington rises from his bow, and a genuine smile flashes across his face. He looks like the warm, friendly portrait of his old self until the expression becomes dour and dark. “This pimp is deeply sorry fo’ ever implying that ya didn’t love these three beautiful girls of yours.”

I’m completely taken aback by this sudden confession and praise. What is this man’s deal? Where was all this honor and chivalry when he drugged an entire tribe of Beastfolk?

Before I can linger on his words any longer, he continues speaking. “I truly wish I didn’t have to be the one who takes them away from ya,” Two bling rings light up at the exact same moment from under the knuckle guard of his rapier- a ruby resting on his thumb and an amber stone from his middle finger. “You’ve earned my respect, Master, and I’ll honor that by holdin’ nothin’ back.”