One - Lightning
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All characters are over the age of eighteen.
Don't expect sex just yet - this is a set up for more.
The inspiration should be clear, but don't expect the rules to play the same. I'm doing my own thing, with my own lore.
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Eighteen!
Eighteen was the age of excitement, the age of adventure! All the doors of life that had remained stubbornly locked were suddenly flung wide open. You could get your license to drive or fly. You could get a job that wasn't minimum wage or enrol into university. You could buy alcohol, and learn what a hangover was, the hard way.
However, the biggest and most exciting part of adulthood was the fact you could get a permit to own a monchen!
No one quite knew where they had come from. The world wasn't always quite so crowded by variety. Ancient tales and archaeology digs said that humans had once dominated the landscape so badly that species were rapidly disappearing, and a global extinction seemed inevitable. Not that it was the first time that particular thing loomed.
However, at some point after humanity started to regress, the monchen had appeared.
Millions of new species, all of them appearing near-human in most regards. Monchen were intelligent, mostly, but they had an affinity for nature that humans lacked. Preferring to live wild than in cities. However, it quickly became apparent they couldn't survive without humanity's help.
Monchen, every single one of them, were born female.
Most of them were fertile, and they only gave birth to more of their kind, but no males were ever born. They depended on humanity to supply them with the next generation. Many monchen species went extinct whilst humanity debated the ethics of sex with nonhuman entities.
It wasn't helped by monchen's naturally submissive attitudes. They seemed to almost universally want to be owned. This sent the already incensed cults and religions into a frenzy. Demanding everything from genocide to government mandated harems.
Eventually, an equilibrium was struck.
Government permits were granted to any eighteen year old. Allowing a human to own, trade, and capture monchen. In return, the monchen would lend their extraordinary abilities to their trainers, who would help them unlock their full potential.
However, though gaining a permit was easy the first time, keeping one, or getting one if the first was lost, was nothing short of unheard of. The trainer had to go through regular gruelling audits, showing that they kept their monchen well-groomed, entertained, and happy. The trainer also had to submit regular research reports.
For a well-trained monchen, they tended to get jobs, going off and being a productive member of society before returning home to their trainers.
Of course, to an eighteen year old like Roter, the part that was most exciting was the breeding program. Which was why, six months after his eighteenth birthday, he found himself striding into the local monchen laboratory, with an appointment to see the world expert on breeding monchen.
Professor Morgenlatte was in his office, muttering in front of his computer. The old man's grey hair was standing on end, and he was sipping at an acrid black liquid. The old man didn't hear Roter enter the room.
There were several other people in the room.
In one corner of the room were three assistants in lab coats and loose slacks. They were loudly gossiping about a new centrefold girl in Barely Permitted. Apparently she was an exotic breed, but Roter had heard her name in a few places recently. She was a blitzchen, and her special ability was either channelling lightning, or an electrifying touch, depending on who you asked.
Blissbun was the newest rising star.
The centrefold they were drooling over depicted a brightly smiling girl in a bikini. She was sitting on a boulder, along a beach, brunette hair trailing out behind her. A lightning bolt shaped tail lay behind her, and her cheeks were a deep red - as if she had just heavily exerted herself.
Thanks to the way her hips were twisted, you could just barely see a dark purplish birthmark peeking out the top of her bikini bottoms - the blemish just making her seem cuter.
Her bright yellow eyes stared into the camera, and her smile had even managed to capture the attention of the researchers more than her impressive bust. She had a way of smiling for the camera that could let yourself believe she was smiling at you directly.
Unfortunately, from what Roter had heard, she was also a massive bitch. She only did her modelling work because it was what her trainer wanted. She cussed out the staff she worked with, and had a shitty habit of tossing lightning into any other monchen who strayed too close to her.
He could admit she was hot, but he found the attitude and treating people badly to be boner killing. He'd never gone in for entitled women, well, been interested in them. He would hate to be her trainer.
In another corner of the room were four women. One of whom Roter, unfortunately, recognised instantly. Even with her head to the back of him it was impossible to miss Blauer. She had a natural energy, curiosity, and confidence that generally put her at the centre of attention.
There were two things about Blauer that made Roter want to turn and run when he saw her.
Firstly, she was a monchen genius. Not just a fanatic, an actual savant. The woman could walk up to just about any monchen, even one she'd never seen before, and in about five minutes they'd be gabbing on in the monchen's native tongue, laughing and best of friends.
She and Roter were both acknowledged by the town as likely trainers of the future. They were the same age, plus or minus twenty four hours. Which meant that they had taken the same aptitude tests. The same exams, they had even passed the permit exam on the same day.
Every single time, Blauer had come in first. Sometimes by as little as a single point... But Roter had never beaten her at a single thing.
Secondly, Blauer was Roter's childhood sweetheart. They'd grown up next door to each other, climbing over the fence into each other's backyards. Grown up talking about how they were going to be married one day, right up until... A little after their eighteenth birthday.
Roter had hurt her badly, through something he had said and hadn't meant. He'd tried to tell her she was an inspiration, making him want to be better than he was. To know more about the wonderful world of monchen. Blauer had taken it to mean he wanted to be the first man to breed with every kind of monchen, called him a pervert, and walked away.
She hated his existence.
The three women that Blauer were chatting with, were monchen. Starters, they were partially trained by Professor Morgenlatte, intended for new trainers like Roter and Blauer. Given to help kickstart their researching adventures.
Why did the professor have to schedule the two of them at the same time?
Roter took a deep breath and crossed the room, "Hey, Blauer."
"Hey, pervert." She glared at him, "Oh my god. Please tell me that you're just here to jack it. The professor didn't agree to actually give you one of these girls, did he? No one deserves to be your monchen."
He winced, "You get a job as his assistant, too?"
"Oh, fuck. You've got to be kidding me." She turned up her nose.
"Hmm? Oh! Roter! You're here!" The professor finally noticed them. The old man stood up, rubbing his hands together and crossed the room. "Your aptitude tests make for exciting reading! Your thesis on influencing the reproductive cycle of the feuerchen is particularly interesting reading!"
Roter wanted to dig a hole and climb into it as Blauer shot him a hateful glare. Two of the monchen looked at the third, whose cheeks went crimson. The fire-haired woman looked anywhere but in Roter's direction, which was understandable.
The old man blinked in surprise, "Oh. Blauer. Was today your day, as well? Oh, um... You can have the wassechen, I suppose."
All three monchen suddenly started protesting, loudly begging the professor to change his mind. Not to split them up, that they thought of each other as sisters.
He held up a hand, "Now, now. You know you have to go to a trainer. That's how things work, here. Blauer can't be expected to take care of all three of you at once, can she? The stipend of a research assistant is nothing. Until she gets a decent government grant, she'll struggle to feed even just one of you. Be practical."
"I have a grant, professor." Blauer said with a smirk, "My proposal on crossbreeding through embryo hybridisation was approved this morning. If you don't mind, I'd actually like to take them all."
Morgenlatte stared for a moment, and then he smiled, "Oh, of course it was. Whoever was I thinking about? You're our prodigy. I hope you'll bring more than just your confidence to our breeding program, Blauer... But... What about Roter? I was going to give him one, too."
Blauer sneered, "The pervert? Why don't you give him the bitch?"
"You don't mean..." Morgenlatte said in a hushed whisper.
Roter's rival smiled at him cruelly, "I know she's here. She even chased these three out of the back room, before claiming your own bed, professor. She'll suit the perv to a capital P."
The professor frowned, "How did your grant application go, Roter? You put a few into the government pool. Any takers?"
He sighed and winced, knowing he was playing right into Blauer's hands. "I got a bare approval on one of them. An investigatory grant to explore possible fertility increases during moment of romantic tension."
"Only investigatory?" She sneered at him, "I got trial approval. I can't believe someone actually bought your bullshit."
"Now, now. Don't need to be teaching the girls that kind of language." Morgenlatte admonished, and then shrugged, "I suppose we'll just have to do that. Girls, be nice to Blauer. Don't give them too much leeway, they're not ignorant to the way of things, Blauer. No spoiling them."
"Yes, professor." Roter's heart felt shattered as he saw his old crush suddenly perk up and smile. All three monchen hugged each other and their new trainer, talking over each other excitedly in their native tongues.
The old man signalled for him to follow, leading Roter into the back of the laboratory, passing boxes of pregnancy tests, before entering into a bedroom with more sex toys lining the walls than he had seen in his entire life. All of them seemed to be modelled on celebrity monchen, which meant they weren't part of the research program.
Roter forgot his disappointment, and Blauer's attitude, when he saw the naked woman lying on top of the professor's sheets.
She was lying facedown, her mess of brown hair hiding her features. Her butt was in the air, knees drawn up underneath her. Extending upwards into the air with a jagged spike of yellow was her tail, crackling visibly with static electricity.
He didn't understand how it was possible that it was her, but he recognised the reddish-purple birthmark lying across one of her hips like a fist-sized stain. He had seen her picture not five minutes ago.
