Noise polluted the dark air of Wonderland. After the previous... performance, the number of people had once again begun to increase, word of the strange yet charming ginger spreading around town and drawing the locale that had abandoned the club after the blonde's comparatively disappointing follow ups. Even so, the muddled buzzing of Queen's familiar speakers drowned out the conversations immediately, overpowering the light crowd.

"For those of you that saw it, the last major show was a bit special, considering my usual type of employee, plus the fact that I was short half a wall once it finished." There was a hint of annoyed malice in the voice. "Luckily, I have a not-old friend that can take care of that kind of stuff pretty easily. Anyway, I felt that bubbly could do well to support your kind in place of excess. I say it worked. That being said, I feel like most of my other flowers are a bit more traditional in their... methods. Case in point: the following."

Premature cheers and claps came with the darkening of the room, only to be interrupted by the intercom once more.

"I need to go grocery shopping... Running outta breakfast items..." Queen trailed off, musing more to himself than the audience. "Oh, yeah, bottles. Toss that stuff upwards if you feel like being part of something great. It'll be obvious this time, I promise. You're all adults here, so do be careful and mind the glass."

Pyrrha Nikos held a hand to her chest and gripped. While he never sounded like it, Queen seemed to marginally care for others outside of the fear of a business owner. It was for this hidden reason that the redhead was here, and not a more reputable– if that was close to the right word– location. She'd never figure out what, but Pyrrha could sense some sort of calm peace emanating from the man in red.

"Do I know you from somewhere? Wait, don't tell me... No... Not old enough... No, actually not old enough... Wait... Are you from the cereal aisle? That's the second time I've had a celebrity come in here. The first went over REALLY well."

Pyrrha was put off but his casual tone and note about her role as a mascot. She didn't like being known as just a face, just a warrior, or just that perfect girl from who cares she's skilled and perfect and unstoppable. Queen seemed to realize this.

"I'm sure you've got a great personality, too. I'm just surprised part of a balanced breakfast wants to join my fine establishment. They'll love someone that looks like you."

Pyrrha felt herself get flushed. It wasn't often that people complimented her on her appearance over her combat skill. Occasionally, just making eye contact was enough to cause men to turn to boys before her. It felt nice to be appreciated by a man who wasn't intimidated by her legacy and looks.

"Dammit, now I'm hungry. I don't suppose you have, like, a deal or something?"

There were multiple metallic clinks and whirs as spotlights fell towards the far end of the catwalk. Immediately, the lights caught something gleaming to an insane degree, nearly blinding the audience as the shine came down. Just as quickly, they dimmed, painting a maroon background with a muddled black shape in the center. A few odd sparkles coming from various spots twinkled as the lights clinked on the figure just out of focus.

"Why don't we start slow?"

From the multitude of sharp, hard edges and a lack of soft curves associated with the female form, it was clear, even from the distance, that the figure was in some kind of full body armor. The theory was confirmed as the shadow began walking at a brisk pace, clinking sounds of metal on metal following it as the music started. As it drew towards the halfway point in no hurry, the figure gradually drew into focus as the spotlights gradually strengthened their attentive glow.

Pyrrha felt her breathing become more and more laborious as she stepped forward, and not because of her outfit.

Bronze gleamed as it came into full view. In a complete departure from the rest of the girls on stage, the figure presenting her form to the crowd was completely encased as she continued stepping towards the crowd. Pyrrha's face was hidden away by a brown hood, shadowing the pale complexion marked only with a gentle smile and emerald glints barely seen under the shadows. As the hood drew to her shoulders, it flowed out into a transient red-lined cape that flowed like water, coming off the pointed shoulder pads that themselves came off of her chest plate. It conformed to her body, giving a vague impression of her figure despite covering it completely in bronze. The top of the armor rose into a piece covering her neck, rising above her collarbone as the bottom curved down to her hips before being overshadowed by a red sash lined with metal pieces. Several more emerald pieces were embedded throughout the mutely shaped breastplate and gorget, shining green as they caught the lights. Her arms were similarly covered, brass colored metal gauntlets stretching up her fit arms before connecting to her shoulder plates. A brown leather miniskirt hung as it dropped out of the crimson covering of the sash, itself covering what looked like a mixture of highly decorated high heels, plate mail, and a metallic pair of stockings that gave infinite definition to her toned legs as they clung to her legs. Most of the outfit seemed impossibly tight, the normal human body unable to fit into such alluringly tight pieces of unmalleable armor. Her arms and legs themselves looked like they were actually made of bronze, the image of the statue-like figure only betrayed by the separate pieces at her joints that allowed her to move and a few odd metal rivets lining the sides.

"I am a warrior. I am a woman," Pyrrha whispered to herself as she hear the crowd's muted cheers. "And I can be more for all of you."

Regardless of dress, the figure moved with near divine grace, the image of a statue of some long forgotten goddess or legendary warrior brought to life stepping in perfect time with reverent tones. Even through the armor, Pyrrha's hips swayed from side to side without intrusion as her cloak trailed in the air, a set of crimson cloth fluttering unhindered as it followed her. She soon stepped her way onto the main stage as the lights dimmed; the figure returned to a shadow with a trailing cloak as it stopped in the center as all noise stopped.

Pyrrha's gentle smile turned to a smirk. "Now, what should I be first?"

The statue stood stock still for several minutes, drawing all attention as it became the center of focus. Eventually, it raised its right arm and held it out towards the crowd. Once more, the hooded figure remained still. The speakers started up again, betraying the silent form as it began ramping up. It started to reach a climax.

"Maybe a hunter? A marksmen?" Pyrrha felt... Playful. Even with words, she was never really one to tease for any circumstance, so the feeling was new.

Without warning, there was a triumphant shattering of glass from the bar. As the audience drew their eyes towards the sudden noise, several more bottles interspersed throughout the counter burst into thousands of amber shards by an unseen force. Taking the hint and the initiative, a blonde haired man hooted as he tossed a bottle into the air for it to shatter like the rest. The crowd's attention was once again brought to the stage as metallic clunks were heard; the bronze forearm of the figure on stage had fallen to the ground in two pieces, the bolts previously holding them together being repurposed as bullets. The gauntlet came next, the individual finger joints bursting apart and coming back together as they hit the floor.

"Oh, is my arm exposed? Isn't it pretty?" Pyrrha wished she could better communicate her joy at her routine. "Aren't I pretty?"

Several more bottles were tossed into the air, each becoming glassy rain as they peppered the ground. With the newest salvo, the upper arm and shoulder fell off of Pyrrha, hitting the ground with successive thunks. Even cloaked in darkness, the figure's true body was beginning to become apparent, the curves of her right arm now framed next to the armored left. It didn't take long before several more bottles, a few odd glasses, and even a few coins were expertly sniped out of the air with perfect accuracy, the pieces of bronze falling to the floor, exposing the girl's other arm as the pieces hit the floor.

"I'm a warrior," Pyrrha repeated, reaffirming her sense of being. "I'm a woman." She listened to the lascivious cheers of the people before her. "I'm a..." She considered for a moment. "I'm a seductress, aren't I? And I'm not even started."

As her gauntlets, shoulder plates and arm pieces lay on the ground in segments, Pyrrha gradually began gaining color and definition as the spotlights strengthened into a deep crimson color, her features being further revealed in the light. Her now barer arms were soft, pale, toned, and decorated with an asymmetric bronze jewelry set that wrapped around one of her wrists and her opposite upper arm. Flecks of bright red hair hung out of the hood she still wore, brilliantly contrasting the emerald gleam of what was now clearly emerald decorations adorning a circlet. Her armor was still tightly hugging her torso and legs, and her skirt covered almost to her knees, preventing any looks at the rest of her secrets while simultaneously showing a hint of her curves.

"A little more."

With several delicate waves of her hands, the rivets holding Pyrrha's leg armor together danced out of their sockets, floating through the use of her Semblance. Thirtyish small metal bolts drew to a spiraling orbit as the pieces they had supported fell to the ground with soft clinks, some falling from under her skirt. The redhead's legs were bare, yet she still remained in the high heels that matched the pile of bronze on the ground. They were fit, tightly drawn and the longest they could possibly be in the support of the heels that clinked as she stepped back. As the crowd stared at her legs, her floating array of bullets formed a heart that began winding around the woman. Raising her arms with a strong call to action, the sound of glasses filled the air as bottles rose into it; dozens of empty drinks met their end as the bullets whizzed around in every direction, filling the room with the sounds and remnants of broken glass. Once they finished, the returned to their conductor that had maneuvered them around with deft hand movements. They soon all fell to the floor with a multitude of noises befitting the dozens of metal bolts as the woman dropped her hands.

"What should I be now?"

As the last of the rivets settled on the ground, the various segmented pieces of armor began coalescing with another grand display of handwork; the larger pieces refused together into their previous forms of fully realized arms and legs as their bolts returned to place, keeping them together. The armor legs remained on the floor, but the bronze arms rose off of the ground and drew towards the woman controlling them. One gently caressed her face under the hood before both turned to the audience and hovered over. The phantom bronze drew towards a table occupied by a young man with dark hair before positioning themselves with their arms folded in the position where another person would be sitting. The audience watched with confused but intrigued attention as a pair of disembodied metal arms began beckoning the person in front of them, motioning its bronzed finger.

"Why don't I be a bitch?" Pyrrha had to restrain herself from clasping her hand to her mouth. "Did I just think that about myself? Oh... Am I also dirty now?" She almost giggled. She was clearly enjoying herself to a significant degree.

Slowly but surely, the man caught on, and hesitantly reached for a collection of bills at his side and passed a few over. Somehow, the arms were able to communicate disapproval with what appeared to be an over exaggerated "Really?" motion, and tapped the table patiently as the man passed over more bills. They repeated the process several times before being seemingly satisfied. Flashing a thumbs up, the arms motioned to a glass of water on the table, trying to communicate a question. Still confused, the man nodded and the arms grabbed the glass before they began returning to their director. The arms presented the glass of water to Pyrrha. She took it and placed it on the ground as she raised the armor legs to a pseudo standing position.

"I can be dirty."

The legs walked in tandem with each other, mimicking a human as they stepped behind Pyrrha, appearing once more like a bronze statue come to life, albeit only pieces of one. The arms followed, wrapping around the woman in a gentle embrace from behind as she crossed her hands to meet theirs. There was a gentle smile peeking out from beneath the hood, but it didn't last long, turning into a more knowing smirk once more.

"I'm a warrior. I'm a woman. I'm a possession. I am to be desired like the toy I am."

After a few moments of Pyrrha being held by a man that wasn't there, the subtle finger motions beckoned the legs to attack the back of her knees; with a quick bronze flash accompanied by a moan, the hooded figure was brought to her knees as the hands grasped her shoulders. They moved down her defeated looking body, caressing her like a prize before tearing off her leather skirt and the armor pieces accompanying it. As the fabric and metal flew to the side, it revealed an even shorter black skirt, enhanced by the position of the woman on her knees. Those close enough to the stage could just make out a streak of bright red underneath the newly revealed micro skirt as her legs made no attempt to stop their gazes. Pyrrha instead looked up, revealing more of her face, her face shining with lustful looks as she parted her knees further.

"I'm a dirty little slut, too," Pyrrha heard the crowd scream for her. She knew the sound well, considering her penchant for winning trophies, banners, and medals, but no amount of tourney-goers could possibly make her feel as good as she did now. "I'm a dirty little slut and I love it."

Pyrrha slowly raised her arms to the sky as the metallic pair crossed over her chest and locked at the sides of the armor. With a wrench, they began struggling to tear the chest piece off of the woman as she began gasping, sounding suspiciously like something else. The rivets lining her rib cage began spilling out onto the floor as the moans grew louder and higher pitched. With one final powerful tug, the chest piece was now in two, the front side on the ground lying next to the now grounded arms while the back fell off, the sound muffled by the cape that still danced in the air. The last remnants of an orgasmic plea faded into silence as the woman on her knees lay significantly barer than she had started.

"Why can't someone do this to me? Why do I have to pretend?" Pyrrha gazed longingly at the bronze arms, fantasizing about an imaginary knight in shining armor tearing her down so that it could pleasure her endlessly. She thought of how much control she always had. Boys would listen to her. Teachers would praise her. Enemies would unknowingly bend to her will, unaware that they were puppets to the great Pyrrha Nikos. "Just once, I want someone to control me. To possess me. To pleasure me."

The spotlights strengthened their glow as Pyrrha stood up amid the remnants of her previous covering. Her hood remained, but what had lain beneath the layers of metal was now in full, unabated view; her neck was covered by a highly decorated collar, a bronze and gold wrap heightened by green gems. A matching corset raised her substantial cleavage to the ideal degree, bolstering her perfectly toned body as it covered a small yellow top. The tops of her breasts swayed with a subtle jiggle as she moved, the view increased by the lack of covering on her shoulders. Her revealed stomach showed highly defined muscles, sculpted over years of training, yet pale and intimate to the eye. Her new skirt was barely long enough to cover what it was supposed to, and in fact didn't when it came to the back; Pyrrha turned and began walking away, showing off the underside of her rear, along with more hints of her lacy red panties. As her heels clicked, the armor pieces lying on the ground once again rose as they formed a near complete set. The headless automaton stood proudly before kneeling, gently picking up the glass of water, then bringing it to the woman like a servant.

"I want you," Pyrrha said to her puppet, projecting her theoretical hero standing inside the hollow metal. "You're all I want. But until then, I guess I'll just have to make the world happy so that I deserve you. I'll be a desire."

The hooded woman accepted her gift, took a small drink, placed it in the waiting arms, then raised her own to the clasp around her neck. The audience watched as the brown and red cloak was torn from the woman's body, hitting the floor with a muffled thud. Glorious amounts of bright red hair fell out into the open to cheers and bills, the woman responding by facing the crowd once more. The fine details of her face were in full view, the lustful smirk betraying the gentle look in the emerald eyes that matched the gemstones hanging from chains off of a golden circlet that wrapped around her head.

Pyrrha snapped out of her fantasy. While she would love to be loved, she felt just as good standing before a crowd that loved her. She remembered her current list of roles that she was filling: the warrior, the woman, the hunter, the seductress, the dirty little thing that wanted to be controlled... Pyrrha felt a twinge of pleasure begin welling up inside her. "Ohhh... Yes. This feels good."

Pyrrha clicked towards the front of the stage, putting her crimson river of hair up into a long, free flowing ponytail that swayed as much as her hips did. As she passed the standing armor posed as a butler, she grabbed the glass of water and splashed it onto her face with a pleasant gasp accompanied by the tossing of the empty drink. The stray drops ran down her neck and onto her breasts, catching the reddening lights of the spotlights as they crossed her curves. Without skipping a beat, she aimed an arm towards the catwalk, causing the maroon curtains to burst open as a blur of metal shot out from behind them.

"I can still be more!"

The red haired woman intercepted a steel folding chair as she back flipped, drawing it to her hands with her Semblance. It kicked out as she tossed it forward, sliding in a open seat position as she readied herself. Pyrrha posed like an competition runner before kicking off, dashing towards the chair. As she approached it, she hopped up, putting one heeled foot on the seat and one clinking to the raised backing; riding the momentum forward, the woman followed the arc of the chair as it was thrown forward, tipping over. As she gracefully stepped off the overturned seat, her corset hit the ground as the metallic clink of the chair hit the floor. Her now significantly less restrained breasts bounced freely, covered only by a strapless golden shirt with a dangerously low neckline.

"I'm a tease."

With a flourish of her hand, the mess of steel floated into the air before meeting her grasp. She straddled the seat backwards, facing the audience as she rested her breasts on the back of it. Taking a moment to relax, she undid her ponytail and allowed her hair to fall across her body and tiara once more. She began eying the audience, on the lookout for something.

"I'm terrible," Pyrrha thought, giggling at the idea of her next action.

Pyrrha's lecherous smile widened as she eyed an available target. Sitting backwards with a near unrestricted view of her panties through the seat's gap, she raised her hand and motioned it towards a blonde man in the audience. He felt his hand raise involuntarily as the band on his ring finger began sliding off, quickly floating towards the woman on stage. He struggled to no avail as his wedding ring reached the redhead, drawn in by her charm.

"Now what would your wife think if she saw me, huh?" Pyrrha mocked her victim in her mind. "I bet she'd be jealous. I bet I'm prettier. I bet you're thinking about me when you're near her. I bet you're thinking about bending me over this chair and having your way with me, aren't you?" The feeling in her body burned stronger. Pyrrha caught herself enjoying a new fantasy; she was the beautiful girl that everyone wanted and that none would ever get. The world was jealous of her, her looks, her skills, her everything. It made her feel so much hotter, both inside and in regards to her appearance.

Pyrrha caught the ring out of the air with a lazy pluck. She examined the metal in between her fingers, smile widening, then moved it to her mouth. She softly kissed it, brushing her gentle lips around it, methodically circling the metal with her smooth skin. Wrapping her lips around it, she sucked, tongued and overall molested the ring in every possible way, staring the man it belonged to directly in the eye all the while. The look on her face only ever grew brighter as she watched the man turn red, and only responded with more lewd movements of her mouth. As the man grew increasingly uncomfortable, she removed the ring and examined it once more. Satisfied, she sent the ring back, but not before shoving it down in her cleavage and rubbing, collecting all the warmth, sweat and scent of her body.

"Pretend that was you and only think of me, sweetie."

Pyrrha rose out her chair, shutting off her panty peepshow only to bring it back stronger as she stretched over the seat's backing, pointing her ass directly at the crowd; the length of her skirt hid almost nothing, showing most of the red, lacy, somewhat damp cloth hiding her womanhood. Shaking her hips and straddling the chair, she raised her arm and summoned the bronze hands from the fallen statue. They flew towards her before loosely settling above her prominent ass. Almost too slowly, they lowered to her raised waist, inching down her hips until they found the bottom of her skirt and pinched. They began peeling off one of two remaining modesties, methodically showing more and more of the woman as she bit her lip and slammed her eyes shut in lascivious anticipation.

"I'm a warrior. I'm a woman. I'm horny."

With two thrusts downward, the hands tore Pyrrha's skirt down to her ankles, taking her panties halfway down with them. The audience was treated to an all-too-brief glance at her glorious bare ass and dripping sex before a lovingly surprised eep caused the woman to re-cover herself with something that barely qualified as cover. She readjusted her lace to cover half of her rear and reassumed her previous position and hesitantly wiggled her ass as she stepped out of the skirt. The brilliance of her panties burned just like her hair, standing out against the tinted white floor and darkened background as it swayed from side to side.

"Oh my god, they all saw, didn't they?" Pyrrha's face quickly turned crimson, and she would have ran at any other point in her life, but her exposed womanhood proved to the audience that she loved every minute of their looks and that she only wanted more. Her extremely damp mound removed any sort of falsehood, definitively proving her lust to the room. "They all saw and they all loved me for it. That was an accident, but we're not done here."

The hands raised from the discarded skirt, once again hovering around the redhead's waistline. Ass in the air, still pointed squarely at the audience, the woman maneuvered her fingers before slamming one hand down onto the back of the seat she rested on as she raised the other; the armored gloves followed shortly after, one hiking up her panties, showing even more of her ass as the red fabric strained, drawing taut over her womanhood, causing her to moan as the cloth tightened around her mound. The other followed, hitting her rear with a glorious smack followed by an unrestricted moan interrupting the first. Over and over again she made the hand strike her with audible force that she lovingly responded to, sending cracks and gasps throughout the club while faint sounds of tearing fabric were heard.

"I'm a whore."

With one final deafening moan, woman righted herself, turning to the audience once more, face nearly matching both her loose locks and her remaining undergarment in crimson color. Her teary eyed face was burning red and caught between a passionate and pained look of lustful masochism. Embarrassment aside, she began directing the armor hands once more; both of the bronze grasps clung to her jiggling breasts, supporting them far better than her strapless gold shirt could possibly manage as they squeezed. Unsteady moans rang out from the redhead as the hands provided a thorough massage before they clung to the upper hems of her shirt, inches below her decorative collar.

"Oh, god, this feels so good."

Taking extra care this time, Pyrrha reached her natural hands under her shirt and held her breasts while the metal set began pulling her shirt away from her, tightening it against her back as the fibers snapped. With a final ringing rip, the golden garment was tossed aside to roars of cheers. The redhead dropped her breasts, covered only by crimson colored pasties that just hid her nipples. The crowd exploded as they softly fell over bronze metal workings, twisting and turning, forming perfect spiraling patterns that matched her other jewelry as they became the only thing holding up her sizable chest, guaranteeing their perfect look with just enough support.

"Ugh, but the looks feel even better!"

Wearing nothing but a bronzed gorget collar, crimson pasties, matching panties and assorted jewelry, Pyrrha posed several times, bouncing her way in a cheerful rhythm across the center stage. Grabbing a pole, she twirled and twirled, moving her hips up and down as her chest jiggled magnificently. Throwing herself off one steel shaft, she repeated the process several times, each part of the audience receiving equal amounts of soft skin and supple body motions. Before long, she made one final twist before returning to the front center area.

"I am a warrior." Pyrrha stared directly at the crowd, attempting to maintain stature despite wearing stickers.

Standing proudly before the audience, the bare Pyrrha closed her eyes as she began concentrating. Without even looking, the twiddling fingers caused the armor to rise to its feet one final time, a headless automaton puppeteered by a devious woman living her carnal desires before an enthusiastic crowd. The armor stepped back towards the catwalk, reaching down and recovering the hooded cape dropped so long ago. It drew it across where the head would be, the girl cementing it to the neck area with magnetism. It gallantly strode towards the woman controlling it, the only thing preventing it from looking like a true hero of legend being the missing helm. Regardless, the crimson lined cape fluttered as the bronze belt jingled over the war skirt as it clanked down the stage.

"I am a woman." Pyrrha tried to focus over her incoming orgasm brought on by the crowd's cheers.

The bronze approximation stopped right behind Pyrrha, standing as proud as she was. Slowly, methodically, painfully drawing out the motions of her twisting arms, the girl maneuvered the armor's hands to her panties, hooking the metal fingers in her waistband. Pyrrha lowered her arm, moving her hand to the perfect location as the armor drew its body to a kneel, lowering the bright red lace of the redhead's covering to the ground. As she stepped out of her panties, the armor rose up and made for her breasts; she flourished her free hand, causing the bronze fingers to grasp her breasts and gently remove her pasties. They slowly withdrew as the woman covered her chest as best she could with just one arm.

"I am— oh, god." Pyrrha lost all thought after she realized the gravity of the fact that she was standing naked before a crowd, her lithe arms and small hands being the only barrier between the crowd and her intimacy.

Before the crowd stood an impossibly perfect woman, her body developed over the course of years, burning red hair gently moving with her subtle motions, and completely nude save decorations that covered nothing. The only thing stopping the audience from seeing her in full was her arms, barely containing her breasts and sex. The soft skin of her breasts whitened around where her arm pressed into them. Gently kneading the one globe she held with her hand, the other showed just enough to allow the audience to see the hint of her nipple peep out from beneath her forearm, the show improved all the more by the fact that she didn't notice or care. Her other hand hovered just over her womanhood, preserving what little modesty she had. One of her fingers was just slightly farther back than the rest, flicking back and forth with an unsteady rhythm. Hastened breath and sporadic orgasmic throes spilled out of the girl while the crowd watched in stunned silence.

"I am—OH, GOD!" It took every ounce of Pyrrha's willpower to not climax right there. She very slowly removed her finger from her quivering insides, trying not to orgasm and lose control of her body. She could hear the plips of her juices hitting the floor as she shook uncontrollably.

Before she got too far into both the moment and herself, Pyrrha tightened the grip around her breast, bringing her back into focus. Her face was begging for completion, but with the subtlest of finger movements not directed towards her insides, the armor returned to life from the previous stillness. Moving at a mile a minute, the bronze facsimile gripped the metal bolts attaching the hooded cape to its neckpiece; it removed the flowing cloth before drawing it around the redhead's shoulders. Wrapping it around Pyrrha, the armor returned to being a statue. The redhead raised her arms, grabbed the edges of the garment draped around her, tightened the cover it provided, and turned. Covered by nothing other than a cape, the redhead strode down the catwalk to the maroon curtains and the uproarious noise of Wonderland.

And thus ended the sixth night of Club Wonderland's new line up of dancers.