Chicks with Weapons

by Stirling Twilight

The Poster: Muscles, swords and a icy look - don't mess with this Yuriko


As the poster was ceremoniously unrolled for her benefit Yuri could feel her eyes growing wider and wider. Every concept of speech fled her brain as she gazed, open- mouthed, at the image before her.

‘You’re kidding, right?’ was what she wanted to say, but instead she continued to stand there, dumb.

Her agent gave her a sharp dig in the ribs, trying to solicit a response that the room could share, and Yuri forced her mouth to move, only no sound was present in the action. Kishi tried again and Yuri felt a foot on top of her own, pressing down hard.

"Well," Kishi said in her gravely voice, "It’s certainly Yuri!"

Yuri, for her part, would have snorted if the foot on hers wasn’t threatening to break bones. "Sure it’s me, if I was a D cup!’

Every eye in the room turned on the idol, expectation written on the faces that awaited her input. She had to say something!

"Well," she began slowly, "it’s nothing like what I expected," she finished lamely.

‘Why is it that at times like this the Earth stubbornly remains close mouthed? I mean, if it were to swallow me now…’

"That means she likes it," Kishi said quickly, lifting her foot off Yuri’s. The relief on the gathered faces, and then smiles, spread quickly through the room and finally Yuri was allowed to take a seat next to the director… what was his name? Her brain seemed to have failed her yet again. Why was it that all men looked so much alike she wondered… again.

As the meeting dragged on Yuri found her eyes drawn back to the poster, which had been mounted to the wall to the right of the storyboard.

‘Sure it looks like me, on a bad day. But why the tits? And what’s with all the muscles? I look like Arnold Schwarzanegger!’

Kishi kicked her again. Yuri tore her eyes away from the poster and locked eyes with her agent.

"Tanaka-san asked you a question," the woman hissed through clenched teeth.

Turning to the indicated person Yuri flashed the woman her best smile, "I’m sorry, I was just admiring the poster again," she said smoothly. A plump blonde girl at the far end of the table simpered.

"Ah… the artist.’

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