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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 6

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The Postal Company and the Auto-Memories Doll

The current times were labeled as the era of postal business flood.

Within a continent that congregated small countries, the people who operated in the mail industry competed ruthlessly against one another. Putting it very simply, the situation of postal companies throughout the continent was of stealing each other’s customers.

Clients chose their mail agency of use and requested deliveries on their own. The reasons for the choices would be fees, deliverable areas, and of course, even the postmen’s degree of courtesy was a subject of deliberation. Taking all of those into account, they would pick one postal company from somewhere.

At present, as the management structure of postal corporations was becoming devoted to carrying the side-business of amanuensis “Auto-Memories Dolls” rather than only delivering mailed items, others were unable to establish a position in the market if their work leaned towards the latter. The more the competition increased, the more obvious the differences in services would become, and, as the superior and inferior ones would grow evident, the losing side would inevitably close down their company.

Within such harsh rivalry, in a certain country named Leidenschaftlich, located in the continent’s southern coast, there was a postal agency so-called CH Postal Service had boomed its name throughout the industry. Although it was a newly introduced company that had but a few years since being founded, its reputation was exceptional. The degree of customer satisfaction was high, and there was abundance of re-users.

On a general view, there were two motives behind its good results.

The first one was that the CH Postal Service had no restrictions to its areas of delivery. Should a client desire, it would deliver to any part of the globe. Of course, fees were imposed for remote places, yet that was the first attempt in the industry of pulling such a feat. Even existing postal agencies disputing for a leading position in the industry had determined delivery areas. The CH Postal Service delivered even to regions of conflict, therefore being a great help for customers whose family members or lovers found themselves in battlegrounds. Its patrons increasing in numbers was something logical. However, succeeding in doing such a thing as though it were extremely natural was terribly difficult for ordinary companies. The CH Postal Service was in condition to go anywhere for a client’s sake, as it had assembled the personnel and system capable of making it possible – therefore, it had managed to do so.

The second reason was that there existed a top star in CH Postal Service, who had come into sight in the Auto-Memories Doll business like a comet. Seeing her walk around the city would cause people to do double takes at her looks, and hearing her voice would paint their cheeks red out of fascination. She was a perfect beauty that seemed to have come out of a mythological legend. As of late, a play that the famous dramatist Oscar had written using her image had been announced and gained popularity, making her renowned even outside of the industry as per synergy.

People probably envisioned just what type of woman she was. Mostly, their expectations were betrayed in good ways. She was a woman that surpassed the categorical components of imagination.

Her name was Violet Evergarden.

The largest trading place of the continent was a port that served as a gate from and to the sea. It was a national interest of Leidenschaftlich’s, as well as a trigger for wars. Countless other countries had attempted to invade it, seeking its abundant resources and a privileged location.

Although the city was at financial ease with the prosperity of its economy, scars of old battles remained in some places. The symbols of long military service from the past had not been etched solely in protection walls or stone-paved roads. It could be said that the fountain built in the capital Leiden during the celebration of Leidenschaftlich’s hundredth anniversary was its most well-known marking.

Consisting of a total of nine goddess statues holding water vases on their shoulders, it worked in a way that groundwater poured out them. Despite it being a gem made by a nationally employed artist, the goddesses had their necks chopped off. It remained unfixed, for the sake of not letting anyone forget Leidenschaftlich’s disgrace in authorizing the invasion of another country’s castle town.

In spite of being a major commercial nation, it was a military state. There were armed soldiers amidst the lively cityscapes even during times of peace.

The members of the CH Postal Company had such country as their home.

“Oh, what’cha doing?”

“My.”

“It has been a while.”

Under a beautiful autumn sky, a group that rarely gathered met in front of the headless goddesses’ fountain. They were two women and one man.

“If it isn’t Cattleya and V. Have you come out to welcome the great me, unable to wait for my return?”

Leaving his motorcycle parked by the roadside and heartily eating grilled chicken was a postman clad in a glass-green shirt. His slender boots of cross-shaped heels gave out a devious sex appeal. Hidden behind sandy-blond hair, his light blue eyes were provocative. His unmanly, soft facial features were not gentle. It was Benedict Blue, who worked at the CH Postal Company.

“What’re you saying? I’m gonna ask again: what’re you saying? T-There’s no way I’d come pick you up! I just went out shopping as an errand for my beloved President. Violet, say something too. To this platform shoes man. Nobody called for you.”

The one who spoke as if to smooth things over with a moody voice was a beautiful woman of gracefully wavy dark hair. She had amethyst eyes and an hourglass shape. Brimming with enough sensuality to enslave the opposite sex, her body was enveloped in a carmine dress-coat with a waist ribbon, yet was about to burst out of it. She was Cattleya Baudelaire, who also worked at the CH Postal Company.

“You two, you are being too loud out in the street.”

Reproaching the duo with a voice of silver bells was an elegantly beautiful girl dressed up like a porcelain doll. Said person had a hairband made of embroidery lace sitting on her hair as it spread out in waves and was wearing a one-piece with plenty of such lace sewn to it, along with a chiffon trench coat.

“V.”

“Violet.”

She was Violet Evergarden, the top Auto-Memories Doll of the CH Postal Company, whose blue eyes enthralled those who looked at them, as did the emerald-green brooch sitting on her chest.

Benedict and Cattleya turned toward Violet, changing the addressee of their impressions in unison.

“What’s up with you?”

“Really, Violet, you’re pretty fired-up. You’re letting your hair down? Are you on a date?”

Pressed on by the two, the Auto-Memories Doll that the CH Postal Company had pride in, Violet Evergarden, cast her gaze to the ground. “Lady Tiffany... someone from my home arranged everything, but is it that strange?” Her voice sounded slightly embarrassed.

Cattleya observed Violet with a gentle look. “It’s not strange. You’re cute enough not to lose to me. Are you going to see the major?”

“Yes. It is still early for the meeting time, so I was going to buy a book for me to bring along.”

“That’s great; you’re looking forward to it, huh! Hey, she doesn’t look weird, right, Benedict?” Cattleya rejoiced without restraint.

“Tch,” Benedict clicked his tongue.

It had truly been a long while since the three of them had last gathered. That was only natural. At the CH Postal Company, everyone worked industriously every day. There were sporadic occasions in which they would be grouped on duty, but that was only when they managed to miraculously coordinate their schedules. They were mates who had been hired by their president at about the same time, so to say.

Benedict threw away the bones of the meat he had just eaten onto the road, peeking at Violet’s face while licking off the oil remaining on his hand. “Hu~n, well, isn’t it fine? Nice work.”

Although their faces were close, Violet stared back at him with her huge orbs without bending backwards.

Benedict flatly thrust a fingertip at her forehead in-between one big eye and another. “But the one who gets to walk you around gotta be me. As your older brother part, I can’t accept my little sister part getting eaten down by an old man. I’m better. ‘Cause I’m young and cool.”

It could be said that someone who had the nerve to say such a thing so imposingly was quite a rare type even amongst humanity.

With an aspect of irritation, Cattleya interjected, “A third party is gonna be telling you this, but Mr. Gilbert is super wonderful, is an adult man and I know Violet’s head-over-heels for him, so you’re the one who’s uncalled-for here!”

“What does ‘head-over-heels’ mean?” Violet immediately reacted to the term she was unused to hearing.

“It’s like being obsessed. Didn’t you say that the major was the only one for you?”

“I did say that, indeed.” Her brows furrowed as if she were troubled, her blue eyes slightly moist. She was most likely “embarrassed”. Perhaps becoming unable to say anything else, Violet wound up turning her face away.

The feeling of affection for that awkward girl, the envy towards her happiness and the complicated emotions from having a friend taken away by a man traveled across Benedict and Cattleya’s minds. Therefore, in order to dismiss it all, the two silently decided to ball their fists, pushing and kicking Violet left and right.

“Shit. Don’t go acting cute. You’re just a battlefield maniac.”

“Really, it pisses me off. You’re as strong as a bear! But you’re adorable.”

Perhaps not feeling any pain, or perhaps trying to figure out how to deal with such a situation, she resigned quietly and accepted the unwarranted violence. As seen from the sidelines, it looked like something close to bullying, but Violet was actually the one with highest combat capacity amongst them. When the physical strength of the three was put together, that sort of thing was no more than playing around.

“Listen, don’t let him touch you carelessly, all right? This is amazing, though. You’re like a fluffy dog. Cattleya, you try touching too.”

“Hey, don’t you go carelessly touching her with those hands either! Even the insolence of getting meat juices on a maiden’s hair has a limit! Stop it!”

“It’s fine, ain’t it? It’s not like I just got outta the toilet.”

“Eh, does that mean... you never wash your hands!? Right? That’s what it is, right? No waaay! Violet, hey, come here. Benedict, don’t you get near us! It’s my turf from beyond this point! I’ll beat the hell out of you for territory violation if you come over!”

As Cattleya swung her legs, enveloped in Suède boots, to draw a line on the ground, Benedict opposed to it in a level as low as the next person, not losing to her. He picked a dead branch from the root of a roadside tree and did the same as she had. “Haah~? Then I’ll make everything beyond this point into my turf! Speaking of which, the way to your beloved president’s head office is behind me, so don’t you go back to it either!”

“Ah~, that’s unfair! It’s. Not. Fair!”

“It’s not unfair~! You’re the one who came up with it first~!”

It was a child-like action for members of society to take. Violet, the youngest one, regarded them with interest as if she were watching a dispute between animals of a new species.

That was a short-lived period of peace before an uproar occurred.

At the same moment, in the same country, within the same city, time flowed peacefully inside the head office of the CH Postal Company, nobody aware of the nightmare that would approach them a few minutes later.

The business firm was erected in an alley away from the main street, projecting itself in the very sense of the word over rows of small shops. It consisted of a spire with a light green, dome-shaped roof and a weathercock on display, a deep green roof that spread out as if to surround said spire, and outer walls made of red bricks that had been sunburned into a tasteful color. The iron plate on the arch-shaped front gate made known the name of the company with letters printed in gold.

Should one open the door, a cheerful-sounding bell would announce the arrival of a customer. Upon coming in, one would soon find the counter, which was the sector where the reception of postal items took place. The building had three floors, with the first being the reception desk, the second being the office and the spire in the third one being the president’s residence.

No matter how far it was from the main street, the building was quite expensive. Its owner – an individual referred by the members of the CH Postal Company as “President” and “Old Man” – was drinking black tea with brandy at a balcony that had an unbroken view of the city.

“I’m so brilliant that it’s scary.”

He was a lady-killer good-looking enough to display self-indulgent behavior. His age was around the thirties. He had droopy grayish blue eyes, red hair grown slightly long, a manly build, and although he was not young, he had soft facial traits that exuded sophisticated simplicity. His appearance seemed to earn the envy and jealousy from other men of the same generation as him. His leather boots shone lustrously without a single stain, polished perhaps out of obsession.

“President Hodgins!”

The one who had yelled into the room was a girl of innocent features. She was the possessor of velvety, evenly cut lavender-gray hair that stopped above her shoulders. She had large eyes, a small head and a petite body. It was still the physique of a young child, but the heterochromatic orbs from behind the glasses she wore bore a stunning suspiciousness that was mysterious even. She was a person who the word “lovely” fit perfectly.

“Please say so after you’ve finished work!”

However, her conduct had presence as the secretary of a self-centered chairman.

Hodgins retorted mildly, “Little Lux, what I need right now isn’t brutal working hours but relaxation time feeling the gentle autumn air and drinking tea.”

“Even if you say that with a nice voice, it sounds like nothing but running away from reality! Please; if you at least put the stamps, I’ll bring you as many cups of tea as you want! Tomorrow is the deadline! We have to clear up most papers today and submit to the concerned parties in lots of places tomorrow! It’s the Flying Letters all over again!”

“You’re already my Miss Secretary through and through. I’m so happy. You used to look like a scared little rabbit when you arrived here, but aren’t you a fine working lady now? This feeling that I was the one who raised you is exceptional, huh?”

“President Hodgins! Please! Take the stamp! If you hold it, I can move you to stamping it... I’ll also read out the documents to you...”

“Then, Little Lux, doesn’t it make no difference if you’re the one doing the stamping?”

“I’d do it if I could! All that’s left is the stuff that demands the president’s confirmation, so just get on with it!”

“That ordering tone with formal language coming from a teenage girl is giving me unbearable creeps... Hm, Little Lux, hey. You don’t look bad with a shirt-blouse and a long flared skirt, but why don’t you try changing your outfit? I think I’d recommend a black apron dress over a puffed sleeve shirt, black tights and red enamel shoes.”

“Please listen to what I say!” The figure that had once been worshiped as a demigoddess at the headquarters of a cultist organization was absent in Lux Sibyl – what was there instead was the figure of a half-crying subordinate attempting to convince her vain superior.

Lux had been working serious and untiringly ever since being brought over by Violet and hired into the CH Postal Company. Perhaps having incorporated a methodical personality, she was now entrusted with even the duty of president’s secretary, yet she always had a hard time with said easygoing president.

The competence that the man named Hodgins had for business was unquestionable, yet his self-amusement principles were extreme and he would not stop fooling around even when having piles of work to do. Keeping his day-by-day in check was Lux’s role. In worse times, she would have to search for him and pick him up at brothels in red-light districts.

“If you don’t put the stamps, the one who will die isn’t you, President, but myself.”

Lux was tired of it.

“No way. I’ll put the stamps. I’ll put them, I’ll put them. Don’t make such a depressed face. Little Lux, you’re too pessimistic. Also, you take everything too literally. I told you that eighty percent of the things I say are random, right? Poise yourself more at ease. Let’s enjoy everything. Even the troublesome stuff.”

“President... you seem like you’d say this even if you had a hole opened in your stomach... I’m jealous.”

“Thanks. I’m the type that grows through getting compliments.”

She had wanted to convey something that was no compliment, yet it did not turn into words as Lux wound up having her attention stolen by something else. Lux’s golden and reddish heterochromatic eyes caught a strange thing in the skies against the beautiful cityscape that was visible from the balcony.

“President Hodgins... Over there, something is...”

At the same time as she spoke, Hodgins forcefully dragged Lux’s body, held her up and jumped to the end of the room. Lux was squeezed tightly against Hodgins’s chest, not allowed to even scream or raise her voice in confusion.

A few seconds thereafter, the sound of an explosion ensued.

“Do you not hear some sort of noise?” Violet’s leveled voice eventually came between Benedict and Cattleya, who were having a scuffle fight. Her blue orbs were looking up at the sky, sighting a black object that passed by in a flash.

And it struck one of the classy buildings among the cityscape of Leiden.

“The head office is under attack!” No sooner than she said so, Violet bolted from the place. She slipped through people standing still with their mouths open, their attention taken away by the explosion sound that had reverberated through the idyllic early afternoon.

“No way, no way! Eeh?! What about the President!?”

“Get on, you idiot.”

Benedict had mounted on his bike before long. After whispering lowly, he swung a hand around Cattleya’s back, all too easily lifted her up, sat her on his knees and simultaneously turned on the engine, taking off.

“Wai—! Doing that all of a sudden is scary! It’s scaryyy!” Cattleya shouted, clinging to Benedict’s neck.

“Move! Move! Y’all are in the way!”

A young woman who was selling flower bouquets with a mobile catering fell on the spot, the horse of her carriage letting out a neigh. Ignoring the situation of the traffic in the street, Benedict rampantly chased after Violet. He gradually got closer to her figure, which had already become the size of a bean grain.

Benedict stretched out his hand. “V!”

Violet had been running at an astonishing speed, but upon hearing Benedict’s voice, she nimbly hopped onto his motorcycle. The two of them, who had a mutual understanding without the invitation of “get on”, exchanged words while paying no mind to the scandalized Cattleya.

“That sound was of Leidenschaftlich style artillery.”

“Did you see the cannonball’s firing position?”

“There is no mistake that it came flying from the west side of the city. Look, smoke is coming out of the head office’s third floor. If we suppose that it was shot from somewhere just as high, we can restrict the location, right?”

“It struck Old Man’s apartment, so there’s too many suspects.”

“How can you be so calm!? The President might’ve died!” Cattleya glared daggers at Benedict and Violet, yet the expressions that two had on were different from normal times. She quieted down without thinking.

“No way we wouldn’t be worried, right...!?” Benedict spoke even for Violet’s part.

The motorcycle that the three of them rode let out a roar while going up the slope.

Caught under a bookshelf, Hodgins was straddled over Lux with his hands so as not to squash her. Lux looked up at him, dumbfounded.

“Little Lux, you can... you can take it slow, but sneak off from under me.”

The glass of the windows had shattered and scattered all over the place. The president’s desk, which was an order-made one designed by a master craftsman, had been smashed to fragments. The carpet had turned into ember and the room was starting to envelope in flames.

“President Hodgins... I-I’m sorry!” Lux crawled out, attempting to somehow lift the shelf with her powerless arms. However, it did not even budge.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Man~, I’d been skipping push-ups lately so this is taking a toll on me... Heave-ho.”

The instant he put on strength and lifted the bookshelf all at once, he rolled away and escaped from being crushed. He was the bearer of a considerable muscle strength.

Hodgins stood up and looked around the room. The look in his eyes was no longer the earlier one of a slacker chairman.

“Sorry; you okay?” Only the gentleness in his voice was the same as always.

“Why are you apologizing, President?”

“‘Cause this was an attack aimed at me, no matter how you think of it. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give your parents.”

“I don’t have parents.”

“That’s right. Then, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give you. Now, we gotta check if the other employees are all right...”

“Anyhow, let’s go downstairs; we’ll both burn to death if we stay like this!” Making a snap decision, Lux ran to the stairs that led to the lower floor.

Planning to go down through the balcony’s emergency stairs, Hodgins desperately called out to her, “Little Lux! Wait up!”

However, before Lux flew out the door, it opened automatically. Hodgins saw a brusque arm stretching before his eyes and taking ahold of Lux. She was dragged into the darkness and her frame disappeared.

“Little Lux...?”

By the moment that Lux reappeared before Hodgins, whose lips twitched, there was as a muzzle aimed at her temple. The one who pushed her forward while holding onto her shoulder was a man clad in a completely black suit. Six other men dressed the same way revealed themselves in succession. Hodgins’s gaze gradually became grimmer.

“How do you do, Claudia Hodgins?” The man referred to Hodgins by the name that he made sure not to call himself by. It was the name his parents had come up with while convinced that he was going to be born a girl.

Breaking into a distorted smile, Hodgins replied, “You’re truly one refreshing shitface, Salvatore Ridaudo.”

Salvatore smiled sarcastically as well. His hair was fixed with balm to the point there was not a single disheveled thread. He was the possessor of wood-brown droopy eyes, thick lips and skin as pale as wax.

“So, what is it you wanna do by shooting a cannonball into my office and thrusting a gun at my secretary?”

“My, good job figuring out that it was our doing.”

“I have a rough idea of it, but can’t you tell me… Mr. President of the Salvatore Postal Company? All that comes to me is that my academic background in the Military School was below yours.”

“How modest... What are you, an up-and-coming entrepreneur whose name everyone knows in the mail business nowadays, talking about? It’s very obvious what I’m after, right? The Salvatore Postal Company and the CH Postal Company. Two agencies competing for deployment in Leidenschaftlich. The fact that the other party is a nuisance certainly applies to you too, but I’m the one who’s been in this industry for the longest time. I can’t contain my frustration. Your way of doing things is... Anyway, I want you to obediently come with us. I wish to have a talk at a quiet place. If you do that, we’ll go home without inflicting a single injury on this cute lady and the rest of the employees.”

For someone running a postal firm, he was a disturbing individual. Calling him an underground chief would be more frankly agreeable. The men in all-black under his control did not seem to be respectful individuals either.

“Think you’ll get to live in peace after doing something like this? The military police’s coming over soon.”

“Seems like you have contacts in the military, but I myself have strong connections too. The military police monitoring this area won’t move an inch. I had them promise that they’d pretend not to hear anything the whole day, no matter how much noise we make. Claudia... Excuse me; is it okay to call you by your first name?”

Hodgins gritted his teeth to the point they let out a creak. “Go ahead. It’s the name that my beloved parents gave me.”

“Then, Claudia. If we keep talking so leisurely, we’ll both scorch. I want you to come along with us on your own feet.”

“Got it, I’ll go over there. But leave my secretary here.”

At those words, Salvatore went blank. He cast his gaze at Lux, who – perhaps from too much fear – had tears naturally welling up in her eyes, and broke into a smile that was rather merciful for an enemy.

And then suddenly punched her on the cheek.

His eyes open wide, Hodgins’s expression visibly dyed itself in rage. “You...! You laid your hand on a woman!!”

A man from the back gave her support as she seemed about to fall to her knees.

Side-glancing Hodgins as he shouted angrily, Salvatore wiped off the blood on his fist onto the sleeve of one of his subordinates’ suit. “I loathe women who think things will somehow work out if they cry. Sorry.”

His voice sounded as though he had not an ounce of pangs of conscience.

By the time that the trio had arrived, the people of the neighboring shops were helping put the flames down together with the firefighters.

Seeing that, Violet whispered quietly, “It is almost as if they knew there would be fire, isn’t it?”

Indeed, just as she said, the fire department’s performance was too well-executed. Thanks to it, only the third floor of the CH Postal Company received damage.

“You three! Over here!”

As they turned around upon being called, they found uniform-clad office workers of the CH Postal Company standing outside with burns showing and in a horrible state. A middle-aged man, presumably the oldest of that group, was waving his hand.

“Anthony, everyone, you okay? What’s all this?”

Anthony, the section manager of the reception desk at the CH Postal Company, had genteel facial features. He spoke with a demeanor and manner of talking that matched said features, “Every employee who attended work as of today is fine. However... the President and his secretary Lux have been taken away.”

“No way!” Cattleya let out a cry similar to a scream.

Benedict looked at Violet. She blinked several times. Her long eyelashes swaying widely displayed “shock” amongst her scarce emotions.

Her hand reached out to her brooch and gripped it tightly. “Who... and where... is the culprit...?” she asked in a low voice, still gripping it and not letting go, “Who... and... where?”

Her tone was an absolute zero.

It was so low and cold it went to the point of making whoever listened to it hallucinate that their temperature had dropped for a second. The air about her was bizarre, further enhanced by her usual robotic aspect.

Only one person moved within that freezing atmosphere. “V,” echoed the affectionate nickname by which Benedict alone called her.

Violet turned her head to the side.

“It’s okay.” That was a tone so gentle it was unimaginable coming from Benedict. “I’ll do something about this no matter what.”

Those words were almost like the ones that a true older brother would tell his younger sister.

Violet’s eyelashes once again flapped flutteringly. “I will do it.”

“You can’t. If we’re doing something, we’ll do it all together. Your plans for later gonna be okay?”

“The plans... No problem; Major will understand. Besides, Major would probably order me to rescue President Hodgins and Lux.”

Perhaps unamused by Violet’s attitude in demonstrating unwavering trust, Benedict ruffled her hair roughly. “Ah, that so?”

Her feathery, wavy streaks expanded even more. Unlike earlier, Violet protested with a “please stop” using her normal voice. The instability that had given a glimpse of her former self as a girl soldier was concealed and everyone in the surroundings exhaled relieved sighs.

“Hey, enough; I’m gonna ask about the rest. Anthony’s troubled, ain’t he?”

Having her shin kicked, Violet finally nodded.

Anthony resumed speaking, “The perpetrator is the Salvatore Postal Company. Its president who has the looks of a vampire and his followers dressed in black did this to the office… I tried to notify the military police with a detailed report of the circumstances, but they would not listen. It seems Salvatore has enormous support. I can’t think of anything other than information manipulation.”

Meaning that Hodgins and Lux had been taken by Salvatore and their whereabouts were unknown. It would seem that the employees left behind were first and foremost concentrating themselves on digesting the situation.

“When departing, President Hodgins told us, ‘I leave the rest to you’.”

“I’m so glad! They’re okay for now, huh!” Cattleya patted her own chest and welled up with tears.

“Salvatore’s the place that dispatches those postmen with black uniforms? If I’m not wrong, their head office was in Leiden, yeah? Those guys once went claiming a boundary to delivering territories, so I beat them into a pulp. Could it be… this was my fault?”

“Eh, what? The name sounds like a tongue-twist so I can’t remember just by hearing it one time. Salva… Sal… Salfa…”

“'Salvatore’, Cattleya.”

Imitating Violet, who pronounced it slowly, Cattleya uttered it as well, “'Salvatore’, 'Salvatore’… okay. Gotta be able to say it right. They’re the ones we’re knocking off into hell, after all. Well, when does the blood festival start? Of course, we’ll settle the accounts, right? We’ll go save the president and Lux, right?”

It was a crude statement, yet the people present nodded at Cattleya’s suggestion with an aspect that bore no sense of displacement whatsoever.

“Please pummel them.”

Benedict broke into a villainous smile at Anthony’s request. “Oh. We’ll do that. Old Man will be fine even on his own but we gotta save the midget.” Benedict vigorously hit his own chest with his fist.

Anthony let out a breath of relief at that attitude. “You three, what should we do, then? Should we call over the other employees? The Salvatore Postal Company owns countless branch offices, even abroad. Is this all right?”

Violet said after raising her hand, “We shall seize them simultaneously. In the national offices, there should be a spot by the windows with nothing but the reception desk. The three of us will take it over… However, the priority is to strike the head office first. Let us suppose that the location the two were kidnapped to is where the leader is. Depending on whether the people at work recruited as combatants are available, please notify them that we are seizing our neighbor agency, the Salvatore Postal Company. Hold a transmission for the combatant employees to grasp the entirety of the situation. We will entrust the information convergence… to you, Anthony.”

“Understood, Violet.”

She was the expected of a former warrior. With that, the chain of command was made clear.

Looking at Violet, Benedict asked, “V, ain’t you kinda coming back to being a soldier?”

Violet had on the same composed expression as always, yet the things she said were uncouth.

“I am not. However, counterattack for justifiable motives is permitted even during travels. We are merely going to resolve a quarrel between fellow post offices. The third floor is the one burning, right?”

Violet had a reason for confirming that.

The trio stood in front of a thick iron door inserted unnaturally in the red brick wall at the back of the building. As Benedict squatted on the spot and dug up the ground, a small box covered in dirt appeared within not even a few minutes’ time. Inside it was a bronze key. Once he reverently brought it into the keyhole, the door greeted the visitors while ringing out a rusty sound. They took a built-in lantern and went down the stairs in the thin darkness. Soon, they arrived to their destination.

The basement illuminated by the faint light stored equipment that should not possibly be gathered in an ordinary company. They were firearms, swords, spears, axes, bows, shields and other fighting tools of all kinds. Even if that were the president’s hobby, such assortment of goods was not something an amateur could attain.

“He saw something like this coming and was getting himself ready, huh. He’s got actual self-awareness that people have a grudge against him,” Benedict said as if in admiration.

“Ah~! President got the tonfa that I said I wanted! The whip too!”

“One fist’s more than enough for you, ain’t it? Don’t go taking any more dangerous weapons other than that. V, what’cha picking? We got this opportunity so I’m gonna take the ones I’ve never used.”

“I...” Looking around the hidden weapons of the CH Postal Company, Violet reached a hand out to something wrapped in a tattered rag set against the farthest wall. “I have decided that this will be my weapon. Benedict, Cattleya.” Violet raised the object that was as tall as her with hand movements that did not allow one to perceive its weight. “Let’s go as discreetly as possible.”

The three stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Impossible, ain’t it? I’m pissed.”

“Impossible, isn’t it? With this group, that is.”

“So that is really the case.”

As the result of a discussion, they arrived at the conclusion that leaving the enemies half-dead without killing anyone was passable.

Salvatore Rinaudo stared down at Claudia Hodgins. The person he detested was currently on an imported bear leather carpet of his personal choice, feeble and with wrists tied.

They were in a room encircled with black furnishings. The fact that said room was decorated with the personality of its owner was apparent one way or another. There were portraits of himself and bookshelves with double glass doors that did not seem to be opened often. There were also butterfly specimens and vases filled to the brim with fresh white flowers. Quiet violin music was playing from a gramophone, but it did not relieve the restless atmosphere in the slightest. Having her cheek punched and swelled, Lux Sibyl was seated on a chair, but one of Salvatore’s underlings had a gun thrust at her head.

Lux was constantly concerned about the outdoors. From the balcony, she could see Hodgins’s office at just the same height in the far distance. Black smoke rising from it, the structure of the CH Postal Company’s headquarters and of that building were awfully similar.

There was one more thing to note about the balcony. It was the artillery that seemed unlikely to have been placed there as an antique.

“Shall I tell you the reason why I despise you?” He stretched his arm as though to embrace Lux, caressing her, who had her right cheek swollen, almost as though soothing a pet cat.

As the cheek that had been hit still throbbed, Lux shuddered as if in pain upon the touch.

“Above all, it’s you yourself. You were born to a well-off merchant family, and used to belong to Leidenschaftlich’s army. Even though you were promoted up to the rank of major, you quit the military immediately after the Great War ended and founded a post office next, succeeding splendidly at it. People like that do exist, huh? The kind that can carry out anything just fine no matter what they do. In most cases, they stomp over others’ efforts with the sole of their shoes. And with a nonchalant face, to boot. I may have all this, but I’m one of the people who face hardships, so I detest those like you.”

“If me being superior is a sin, then go complain to God.”

“My second reason for hating you is that you rebel against the principles and rules that our predecessors established. ‘The CH Postal Company delivers to anywhere’? You make me sick.”

Hodgins shot Salvatore’s hand a blazing glare. “High quality at a low price for the costumers... That’s the basics of business, isn’t it?”

“Won’t you just crush those who can’t do the same if you turn this into a standard?”

“You get tripped up because you sit on your hands like that. Y’know, I just happened to think back when I was a soldier that a post office like this would be great and am simply making it into a reality. Letters that can be sent to any sort of battlefield. Postmen who can deliver them. Auto-Memories Dolls who can come to you if you so wish, even if you live at the heart of a sea of trees. What’s so bad about doing something I like with my own money?”

“There are still other bad things... What’s that building? Isn’t it almost like claiming that you’re going to replace the Salvatore Postal Company? The fact that only the weather face stands high up is also irritating.”

Salvatore’s hand moved from her cheek to her silver hair, which emitted a glossy luster.

“Don’t touch my secretary... Yeah, that’s right, I declared war on you. I’ve known you before getting into the industry. You’re all over the country I protected, doing stuff that doesn’t favor it.”

“What, for example?”

A bundle of hair picked by Salvatore’s fingers flowed in-between them, producing a smooth sound.

“The fact that you’ve been selling weapons behind the face of post office... You were selling national weaponry abroad, weren’t you?”

“We’re a postal company that has gentleness and courtesy as our selling points, so we do deliver anything that people request. However, I don’t recall delivering anything to the North.”

“That’s not the issue. Even if you didn’t sell anything to them when battles were going on, it takes just a bit of thinking to figure that this kind of stuff makes rounds, right? It was so unbearably weird... How come the enemy had weapons made in Leidenschaftlich? How come my comrades were getting shot by the enemy with them and dying...? I finally got to investigate that mystery after the war.”

Lux’s had her hair forcefully pulled and her neck bent backwards. Her scarf was taken off, her collarbone peeking from underneath her blouse.

Salvatore took the gun from his underling and pointed it at her chest. “If you know this much, you also know that part of my proceedings went to the military, don’t you? It’s not something that I alone wished for. Some people from your country, which you’d devoted your life to, merely wanted to increase their retirement pay a little. Isn’t that a commonplace story? Can’t you drop the moralist act? It disgusts me.”

“I’m no moralist—hey... how many times do I have to tell you not to touch...”

“Claudia, it’s not like you have a respectable life style either, is it? You wagered your whole fortune on war gambles and earned a large sum, wasn’t that it? Funds gathered from gambling are a hotbed for underground organizations and black market groups. With those funds, they sell off weapons, drugs and abused women and children. Even if you’re on the side that just milked it out, from the moment you placed a bet, you also made rounds and became someone’s assailant.”

“That’s why I said... I’m no moralist! I did all of it because I wanted to. You and I are both pitch-black at heart. But y’know, my secretary over there is a respectable girl. Didn’t you hear when I told you not to touch my secretary?! If you get anxious unless you’re touching something, just hit me or whatever!”

Perhaps because such statements rubbed him the wrong way, Salvatore did as Hodgins proposed, leaving Lux and kicking Hodgins’s face with his shin. Crimson hair swaying, Hodgins collapsed onto the floor.

Regardless, he grinned. “Thanks; should I take my clothes off while we’re at it? It’d get you excited, right?”

Salvatore grabbed Hodgins’s collar with rage. “How filthy. Your company is your human nature itself. I’m a victim. I want you to give me back the clients, routes and everything that you’ve stolen from me. I think being a soldier suited you better than being a businessman. Lying on the ground like this is fitting of you. Why... I’m just going to have you write your name on a document. Promise not to trespass my routes... It’s hard to do stuff with you loitering around. Lots of stuff, you see.” He let go abruptly, Hodgins’s face banging onto the floor.

“President!” Lux’s tear-mixed voice leaked.

Hodgins immediately raised his head and smiled at Lux. He went as far as winking at her.

Salvatore harshly told his underling to call over the official scrivener who would bear witness to their contract. He most likely intended to crush Hodgins’s post office through leaving behind a legal document with unequal contents.

“Tepid; you’re tepid.” Hodgins’s tongue licked off the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Compared to back in the battlefields, you really are dull...” As he coughed curt and subtly, his voice reached Salvatore. “My company isn’t just mine.” Hodgins looked out the window. He checked if something was coming and waited for it.

“Salvatore Postal Company identified ahead,” Violet whispered.

Benedict was driving his motorcycle, Cattleya behind him. Holding onto Cattleya’s shoulders, Violet was standing on the edge of the passenger seat. Running through the cityscape in the early afternoon, the motorcycle carried not only three people but also uncovered armament.

“Hey~, there’s a huge tacky cannon in the balcony~.”

“All~ right, I was thinking about forcing our way through the front gate but change of plans. V, go off on that balcony,” Benedict said with a lightheartedness that one would invite another to go shopping with.

“Understood. Cattleya, please give me support.” Violet took into her hands a thick, long cylindrical object that had been placed on the motorcycle’s luggage carrier. It was something that could be called both a rifle and a rocket launcher. She rested it on her shoulder atop the running vehicle and determined her target.

Once Cattleya clung to her legs as to secure her body, Violet shot without mercy. Explosion sounds echoed throughout the city of Leiden for the second time that day.

“Impact confirmed.”

Pigeons fled into the sky, the townspeople darting their eyes about in search for the source of the noise. Meanwhile, the motorcycle that the trio was riding on gradually drew closer to the Salvatore head office.

“Sca~ry! But ama~zing! I also wanna shoot tha~t!” Cattleya shouted in joy upon seeing the balcony destructed.

“Won’t let ya no matter what.”

“You cannot no matter what.”

Benedict and Violet shook their heads in sync. Both comprehended that it would be dangerous to let such a naïve woman hold onto firearm.

“What’s with that~?! I also wanna go wild big time~! Isn’t it okay?!”

“Then, let Cattleya be the first to charge in. Please be contented with that.”

“What’re you deciding on your own? The first at anything’s gotta be me.”

“You follow me from behind. ‘Cause the one who’ll save our captive princess of a president is going to be me. A~hn, wait for me, President! Where are you!?”

“You... As if such a huge dude could be a princess. What kinda princess is that?”

“If you were as tall as the President, you wouldn’t have to wear those heeled shoes, huh.”

“You’re wrong! That’s not why I wear them! It’s because they’re cool! You... Imma make you cry later! I’m dropping by your place today, so get ready for it!”

“Yo... Yo-Yo... You idiot! What’re you saying in front of Violet?!”

Silently listening to the exchange between the two, Violet slowly took from the luggage carrier the handle of the weapon jutting out of the tattered cloth. “Then, I shall take this opportunity and go.”

They had no idea what opportunity she was taking, yet Violet nimbly jumped midair after saying nothing but that. As she landed on the ground, the motorcycle also stopped right in front of the head office with good timing upon scoring an ostentatious drift.

“Here I go, Major.”

The one taken into Violet’s blue eyes was the Salvatore Postal Company – a building that looked exactly like the CH Postal Company. Although it was a weekday, a “closed” sign hung on the door and five postmen clad in black frock coats stood by the entrance smoking cigarettes.

The stunning woman, the man mounted on a motorcycle and the beauty behind him appeared before their eyes. Ashes fell down in lieu of their surprise at the mystery trio.

“Wh-Who’re you?!”

While the men froze on the spot at her exposed unpainted face and moonlight-colored hair, Violet swiftly tore off the tattered cloth wrapped around the weapon in her hands. A battle-axe of a size unfit for swinging around in a city road revealed itself.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am an Auto-Memories Doll from the CH Postal Company; my name is Violet Evergarden.”

The name of the battle-axe wielded by that woman as ominously beautiful as a witch was Witchcraft. It had a silver blade, and the red rain that it dyed itself in from the number of people it had killed was a manifestation of its ill-omened existence.

“Apologies for you are in the middle of work, but could you allow us upstairs? Ever since our company’s president and secretary disappeared into your agency, we have not known of their whereabouts.”

As she held onto it, illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, her frame gave off quite a sense of misplacement.

“If you will not listen to our request, we shall exercise brute force based on the guiding precepts of our company.”

But as she wielded it, her figure looked appropriate. Rather, it was the contrary.

Raising the gigantic battle-axe blithely, Violet pointed the blade at the men. Instead of opening their mouths, the men took pistols out of their coats and pants and aimed them at Violet.

“The guys from the CH Postal Company are here! Don’t let them pass no matter what!”

“Violet!” Cattleya’s scream reverberated through the city roads.

However, the beautiful Auto-Memories Doll moved at the same time as the opponents readied themselves, dealing a preemptive strike in the blink of an eye. “Negotiations broken.”

A single blow from the battle-axe brushed away the postmen. It was an attack that did not cut them and merely struck their vitals using blunt weapon essentials, yet it caused three of the men to hit their heads against the outer wall of their company and collapse.

The remaining two men, who had dodged the appearance and disappearance of the axe, frantically aimed at Violet and pulled the triggers. Without any change in her facial expression, Violet twisted the battle-axe around and repelled the bullets with its blade. Switching hands, she pointed the tip of the handle at the opponents. It produced a ringing noise.

“Please forgive my rudeness.”

The flower bud ornament decorating the tip of the handle flew out together with a long chain. It knocked the two men’s pistols off their hands. She did not give the men, who held their hands down due to the collision, any opening to straighten their postures. This time, Violet rammed the battle-axe’s arm against the surface of the building’s wall and anchored it. While extending the chain and spinning midair, she dealt a flying kick to the face of one of them, made his face into her stepping stone and roundhouse-kicked the man next to him. There was no hesitation or mercy in her series of actions.

“Bu-But I was supposed to be the first one!”

“That was me!”

Indignant, Cattleya took a sack fastened to the luggage carrier, which contained her weapons. After thorough indecision between the tonfa, whip and other armory, the one she had chosen were iron knuckles.

Before anyone noticed, Benedict’s hands were gripping two pistols. He disabled the safety catch with practiced hand movements. “V! Don’t get too serious! If you’re angry, I can get angry for you!”

As if the people inside the Salvatore Postal Company had foreseen that someone would come raid it, postmen peeked out from the windows of the floors above with rifles in position. Bullets from Benedict’s pistols pierced their arms as he spoke, creating a rain of blood splashes.

“If this is the emotion called wrath, I want to rid myself of it quickly. Cattleya.” Violet pointed with her finger at the rocket launcher that had no more remaining ammo to Cattleya, who had put on her iron knuckles.

Agilely grabbing its handle with one hand, Cattleya threw it with heightened rotation speed after drawing it back once with much vigor. “One, two, the~re!”

Together with her adorable shout, the rocket launcher struck the postmen who had turned up in the upstairs floor, breaking through the window glass. Its destructive power was the same as a bullet shell.

The one who had flung it jumped up and down on the spot as if delighted. “Kyah~! I hit them~!”

It was not a deed that an average person, let alone a young woman, could normally manage. She was the possessor of tremendously strong arms.

“As expected of the Stupid Woman – or more like the Stupidly Strong Woman.”

“Shut up, Platform Shoes Man.”

“Ah, you on?”

“What, are you?”

The ringing of the chain on Violet’s battle-axe Witchcraft drowned out the duo’s little quarrel. One of the men screamed and threw himself out the window, falling onto a flowerbed in front of the company.

“Benedict, Cattleya. By the looks of it, the President and Lux are unmistakably inside this building. President Hodgins told me that he imitated Salvatore’s agency when our company’s office was under construction. If that is the case, then the highest position is probably the uppermost floor – the third floor. I am counting on you to follow the procedures.”

The two nodded in reply to Violet’s words.

“Let’s kick their asses at once and go celebrate.”

“We’re bothering the neighbors, after all.”

Before anyone realized, the city had gone quiet.

The Salvatore Postal Company was located in a completely ordinary shopping street in the city of Leiden. However, the passersby had fled within a few minutes, and the shopkeepers of the nearby buildings, as well as the buildings next to those, had closed their shops’ windows – the so-called display windows – and pulled down the iron shutters.

The fast action stemmed from their understanding that the city had become involved in the maelstrom of a fight. It was a particularity of citizens from a country that had long been shutting off invaders ever since its foundation. The people were silently waiting for the conflict to end.

“Well, then, let’s go in.” Violet’s figure as she gave the command with a clear voice was different from usual.

Inside the chairman’s room at the top floor of the Salvatore Postal Company, the scenery visible from the balcony – an autumn sky where cirrocumulus clouds drifted high up and Leiden’s cityscape – had looked like it was inserted in a picture frame. Yet such beauty was something of a few seconds before, and now the artillery enshrined in it had received great damage from a sudden explosion attack, smoke rising from it.

Once ornamented with delicate sculptures, the rails were crumbling, and the balcony was in a state where one could fall straight to the ground if they put a foot on it. If the artillery were loaded with ammo, it was most likely not the only thing that would have been destroyed.

In that situation of settled chaos, Salvatore Rinaudo’s pale face went even paler and his mouth fell open as he spaced out, while Claudia Hodgins bit the inside of his cheeks to kill off his own laughter and trembled in opposition.

“What have they done?”

“Ahah—AHAHAHAHAH! Aah, I can’t anymore! Can’t hold back! This is the best!” Hodgins convulsed with laughter upon looking at Salvatore’s face. “What you so surprised about, Salvatore? Isn’t that what you did to us? Well, but... you wouldn’t think we’d do the exact same thing as you, huh! There’s no helping it! Ahahahah!”

Even Lux, who had all along been shaking with a darkened face, lit up with a sparkle of hope and laughed a little.

“Is this the work of you people from the CH Postal Company?”

“Who else is there? Our corporate philosophy is ‘an eye for an eye’.” Hodgins was in such a good mood that he seemed like he could break into song right then.

A few of Salvatore’s underlings went down to the floors below. Gunshots and screams soon echoed again. The fact that the screams had come from Salvatore’s subordinates increased his anxiety and impatience.

“They’re doing this even though you might be injured... What kind of training do you use on them?”

“Basically a principle of liberalism. Most of the personnel I gathered back when I was building my company happen to be guys with nowhere to go that I coaxed and took in... Don’t know if my preferences are biased, but it turned out that lots of them were absurdly strong fellows. The ones who’re here right now are definitely two of the Auto-Memories Dolls that were off-duty and... probably a postman that was scheduled to return to town today. They’re elite of the finest kind even among us. Salvatore, since it’s you, weren’t you supposed to investigate me through and through?”

“Your company’s employees are former soldiers and mercenaries, right? If that’s the case, so are our postmen...”

“They aren’t just former soldiers and mercenaries. Benedict is an ex-mercenary who had the nickname of ‘Battle-Hungry Freak’ in another continent. Cattleya was a boxer. She has arms so strong that no one can beat her by using force. And that beautiful girl whose name you can even say everyone knows in the Auto-Memories Doll business... my adorable Little Violet, used to be Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier. It’s in the past, though.” Hodgins smiled at Lux. “By the way, my secretary is a former demigoddess.”

“‘Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier’?”

“Didn’t your patrons tell you anything? Well, she was treated as a secret in a way, so it isn’t impossible for civilians not to know about her. The military went as far as creating a troop just for her and made her work for them, but they never gave her recognition or ranks. She didn’t have a surname back then and it seems people just called her ‘Violet’. My friend found and raised her... She was the leading figure of the Great War in the shadows.”

Salvatore reminisced to the photos of Hodgins’s employees whom he had made his underlings investigate. One that had been engraved in his mind remarkably vividly was a beautiful woman. She was a girl of exquisite, suave facial features. Even if one declared her to have been the strongest female soldier, nobody could believe it right away.

“How did you make a woman like that yours?!”

“She’s not mine.” Hodgins smirked defiantly. “And she doesn’t belong to the military anymore either. From the very start, she... Let’s stop here; telling this story to you is a waste.”

The battle’s tune gradually grew closer to the top floor. By the looks of it, the fuss was escalating to a direction where even angry yelling was ensuing. It seemed the owner of the voice was a young woman. Even amidst gunshots, the conversation between those two people did not cut short.

Hodgins’s smirk deepened, Salvatore’s face becoming grim.

“You guys, give polite greetings when coming in.”

Salvatore’s underlings readied their guns all at once. The tension reached its peak, everyone inside the room paying attention to the door. However, it was time.

“Lux, please cover your eyes,” a beautiful voice that did not match such a place, which had converted into a battlefield, could be heard from behind the staff members.

A black lump jumped from the balcony. It looked like a beast at first. A stunning and terrifying beast that moved its limbs gracefully and trampled over its enemies.

No matter how much the “hunters” who had taken notice of the beast’s existence made bullets rain on it, its feet did not halt by a single inch as it bared its fangs. It steadfastly ascertained the battlefield even as it danced in the air, wielding its weapon with astonishing precision, bringing everyone to the ground.

“A-Aaaah!!”

The arm released from the battle-axe pierced and gouged the shoulder of the man who had been thrusting a gun at Lux. The beast swung the battle-axe and stationed Hodgins and Lux to behind itself.

Salvatore took a few steps back, and exactly two factions stood in position separated at his right and left sides.

“Major Hodgins, we apologize for the wait.”

“I’m always telling you that it’s ‘President’, aren’t I, Little Violet?”

The beast – rather, the woman – shot a cold glance at the one that she perceived as the enemy.

“You—What are you?” Salvatore vented his confusion at the sudden intruder who held onto the completely red battle-axe.

She had white and smooth skin like that of porcelain dolls. Her blue eyes were as glass balls. Her hair of gold seemed to waft with a sweet fragrance. The girl was beautiful to a rare extent, but that was not the only thing that made one’s eyes widen at her.

A living legend that Salvatore did not know was standing there.

“Violet.”

The loveliness he had seen in the picture was concealed by a shadow, a turbulent atmosphere similar to madness surrounding her instead. An air of lethargic strategizing as to which of them would move first flowed by, but the stagnancy soon shattered.

“PRESIDENT———! LUX——!”

“OLD MAN!”

Callings could be heard in unison from outside the room. The massive door was then broken through as if it were as thin a paper sheet. The one who stepped onto the door as it collapsed with a tremor and entered the room while holding by the collar an enemy that she had defeated with her silver iron knuckles was Cattleya.

“Aa~hn! You two~! Found yoou!” She tossed the prey that she had nearly killed toward Salvatore and his group. Being able to fling a human being as if they were an object meant her arms were simply that great as blunt weapons.

Following her, a gun barrel appeared first, and after bullet sounds ensued, Benedict revealed himself. It was a shot meant for delivering the finishing blow to Cattleya’s offensive.

Shooting the legs of all the men in black except Salvatore, Benedict clicked his tongue at the gruesome scene inside the room. “What’s this? Hasn’t V eaten out most of them?” Together with a sigh, he threw away the gun he had been holding, taking out another one. “Old Man~, we’ve left only this important-looking old dude~.”

“Lux! Violet is protecting you, right? President! You’re tied up!” Cattleya ran towards Hodgins, who lay on the floor. Without cutting them with a knife, she ripped off the ropes that had been restricting him using the iron knuckles and embraced him boldly.

Hodgins patted her back with taps and hugged her lightly. “Sorry, Cattleya. Didn’t my adorable young lady get hurt?”

“I didn’t!”

“Atta girl.” Hodgins left a kiss on Cattleya’s forehead with a pop.

Cattleya’s cheeks flushed red and she turned her back to him looking embarrassed, stamping her feet onto her happiness on the spot.

Benedict tore Cattleya away from Hodgins and stood between them. Contrary to being angry, he aggressively hit Hodgins from face to torso, confirming that the latter was alive.

“Ouch, ouch, what’s this? A new way of expressing love?”

“You’re fine, huh, Captive Princess?”

“You were worried about me, Darling?” Hodgins merely replied with frivolous talk to Benedict’s cynicism, looking delighted.

Briefly biting his lip, Benedict faced the ground. Hodgins had a feeling that the eyes Benedict had directed at him before casting them downward were moist, and was inwardly surprised.

——Huh, could it be he really was worried?

“Hey, Darling. Benedict.”

His sandy-blond hair rubbed into a mess, Benedict finally resisted energetically as if to say, “Quit it”. Nothing that resembled tears could be seen in his eyes anymore.

“Who’s that ‘Darling’, Old Man...?!”

“Could it be you were pretty worried about me?”

He was fully convinced that Benedict would deny it.

“I was. Don’t make me.” Yet the latter directed his sky-blue eyes straight at him and said, “I was hella worried. Don’t ever make me worry again no matter what!”

As it was much too blunt, after Hodgins was taken aback, his face slowly turned red. He had anticipated they would come save him, but right now was his first time learning he was cherished to that extent.

“Ah... that so? S-Sorry, okay?”

“Damn... Don’t go getting kidnapped when you’ve got that huge body! Is Captive Princess #2 all good?”

“Fairly. Little Lux needs first-aid...!”

Violet undid Lux’s binding. The latter’s body, which had been trembling in fear, and the sound of her heartbeats, which had grown noisy, were regaining their calm.

“Thank you, Violet.” Enduring the pain in her cheek, Lux smiled at the friend who had come for her rescue. “I thought you were some noble prince.”

Violet furrowed her eyebrows as if troubled. She then resentfully held Lux’s hands and helped her up. “My apologies for not being able to protect you. But I will not let you go through terrifying times anymore.” Just like a knight, she made Lux retreat to behind her.

Albeit gripping his gun, Salvatore remained unable to fire a single shot at the mere three people who had taken control of his company. As he shifted his gaze to the side, he could see his underlings collapsed and moaning in the open corridor. “There was supposed to be... fifty of them,” once he opened his mouth, his voice shook.

“Ah? Your minions? Even if the numbers are big, it’s no use if the quality sucks. Actually, were there that many of them? I was counting, but... Stupid Woman, how many did you take down?”

“Stupid Benedict! Erm... ten. I probably beat up about ten people.”

“I got twenty. The rest was V, huh?”

“I simply came here by climbing the outer walls, so other than the beginning and now...”

“Didn’t anyone run away? The math ain’t adding up.”

They were chatting carefreely, yet the contents of the conversation were the number of people they had defeated. In addition, there was an overwhelming difference in combat power, for they were unharmed and not even their clothes had scratches. That was also a difference in corporation power.

Biting his lip as if in frustration, Salvatore barked at Hodgins, “They came late, and that’s why you’ve lost! I already had you write the contract! The official scrivener went to submit the contract we exchanged to the government office so that it’d serve as a demonstration of formal legitimacy. It’s probably already been accepted... Take your leave as you please. But I’m billing you for the internal damage caused by your subordinates and the injuries they inflicted on mine!”

Salvatore had intended to wreak both psychological and bodily pain on Hodgins for a while, instilling terror on him and making him lose the will to fight back, but now he had given up on it. What he desired most – the unequal contract – was in a state of legal effectiveness. As long as he had it, regardless of what anyone could say, the fact that Salvatore had the advantage would not change.

“Salvatore Rinaudo. What’re you on about?” However, Hodgins had a facial expression that denounced he was helplessly puzzled.

“As I said, your company can no longer enter our routes...”

“So?”

“No matter how much brute force we used, that’s nothing in the face of a validated official document!”

“Again... so what? The papers were indeed filed. Seems like they also were submitted before help came. What of it?” Claudia Hodgins, president of the CH Postal Company and former major from Leidenschaftlich’s army, generally had an easygoing personality, as well as a cheerful and frivolous attitude. However, he was now glaring at Salvatore without breaking into a smile, letting a glint shine sharply in his eyes. “Isn’t it a matter that’ll be solved if we crush down your company?” He rolled up his shirt’s sleeves and took off a wristwatch that one could tell was a high-grade product. Next, he squeezed the strap with his fingers so that the watch’s case would be on his knuckles.

Anybody who was used to fighting knew. If one was battling without a weapon, the object called wristwatch was an overly useful thing.

“Salvatore, if only you hadn’t hit Lux, I wouldn’t be this angry.”

Salvatore fired at Hodgins when the latter swung up his hand, yet it did not even graze him. Oddly enough, the bullet that had failed to kill a person shot through the middle of the forehead of Salvatore’s portrait sitting inside the room.

“S-Sto...” The word that Salvatore uttered were the end of it.

The fist swung by a 194cm-tall man who weighted 85kg struck into Salvatore’s face with a wind-cutting sound. As his nose was broken without mercy, Salvatore shed a large amount of blood. A few of his teeth tumbled onto the high-quality carpet as well. He had convulsions for a moment, but eventually became completely motionless.

“Did you kill him?”

At Benedict’s question, Hodgins put his ear against Salvatore’s chest, shaking his head after simply checking the other’s heartbeat. “He’s alive. Let’s leave him be.” By the instant he turned around, Hodgins had gone back to his usual self. “Everyone, you did well. I’m so happy; my employees sure are the best. And I’m also the best for having chosen you!” Hodgins sang praises gesturing exaggeratedly, embracing the employees who had come for his aid all at once. He then came closer to Lux’s side, planting a kiss on the cheek that had not been punched. “I’ve made you go through a lot, huh. I’m really sorry, Little Lux.”

“No, I’m the president’s secretary, after all.”

Seeing as she did not appear too bashful, that sort of kiss was likely not a rare action. As the thread of tension broke, Lux crumbled and shed large tears. Hodgins frantically apologized again.

“That’s not it... I’m frustrated... It’d be great if I were like everyone else, and also had strength to protect the president. If I hadn’t been taken hostage, things wouldn’t have turned out like...”

Cattleya gently caressed Lux’s arching back as she was unable to stop crying. “What’re you saying? Lux, you have it good exactly because you’re a normal fragile girl. Ah, but it’s not like I’m not normal either. I’m strong and pretty, but I’m a super normal girl...”

“Cattleya, what you say is inconsistent.” Violet handed Lux a silk handkerchief.

Perhaps due to their heights being about the same, despite their faces not resembling one another and their body types being different, the figure of the tree as they nestled close to each other strangely made them look like sisters.

“Seeing girls huddling together is kinda nice, right, Benedict?”

“Old Man, just hurry and do something about this place.”

“Should we huddle too? Shall we?”

“Don’t play around and give the instructions!”

As Benedict dealt him a strong lateral kick to the rear, Hodgins ceased joking. “Eeh~, then, all dismissed...! That’s what I’d like to do but I have a request. Anyone who doesn’t have any plans for later, please help me destroy Salvatore’s company!”

“He~y, Old Man.”

“What is it, Mr. Benedict?”

“You haven’t checked things out so you don’t know what’s been made of it, but we left the international offices to the rest of the fighter staff. The guys who stayed at the main office contacted them. Since it’s those fellows... they’ll take them out without worries.”

“Amazing! But we don’t have fighter staff! It’s not like I hired you with that intention! Well, since there have to be people who can go into battlefields, I didn’t not have that intention, but...”

“From the very start, that was our purpose, President Hodgins. So that there will not be such happenings after this, we believed that laying waste to everything and thoroughly annihilating them was a good plan.”

“Scary, scary. Your expression is getting scary too, Little Violet. Smile! It’s ruining your cute face!”

“President~! I want you to buy me a new choker after we’re done. Look~! The pearls on it got torn off... It was my favorite too.”

“Okay, Cattleya. Be it chokers, clothes or anything, this uncle will buy it for you!”

“Hum... President. What should I do?” the non-fighting staff member Lux tightly clutched her skirt, looking nervous.

“Little Lux, let’s go back to the head office. I’ll have you be treated there too. It’s all right; everyone in the head office contacted the other employees, so there should be people gathering there. It’s safer than you coming with us. Benedict, take Little Lux to the head office, and then regroup.”

“Roger; leave some for me to mess with too.”

“We aren’t sharing cake slices... Now, Little Violet and Cattleya are going with me to crush the branch offices just like this. Let’s decide on the rules for one. No hitting girls. Hitting bastards is fine.”

“Understood.”

“‘Ka~y.”

The members of the CH Postal Company continued their strategy meeting without paying mind to the people that they had defeated lying on the floor. When they were done at last, they exited the building while making so that those of Salvatore’s postmen who had stood up once again would be beyond recovery.

Lighting a cigarette, Hodgins started walking with it in his mouth, and everyone followed him as well.

On that day, within Leidenschaftlich, gunshots echoed throughout several areas of the capital Leiden, yet no one attempted to keep them under control. Additionally, the military police did not make a move regardless of how many reports it received.

The nocturnal darkness deepened late into the night.

The lights were brightly lit in a bar at the corner of a business district. “Fully booked for the day,” said the clumsy letters on a paper pinned to the menu board in front of the shop. The figure of a seductive female dancer was drawn on said board. By the looks of it, that was a place where people enjoyed shows along with their meals.

The voices of people laughing pleasantly and lively music could be heard leaking from inside the bar. It seemed to be the feast of some company. The men and women were at a one-one ratio. Their ages varied and all of them differed in skin, hair and eye colors.

Even amongst them, there was an attention-catching few.

A young man was displaying splendid steps on a table with heeled boots that looked like womenswear. The dancers swayed their bodies together with him and danced purely as they pleased.

On another table, a beautiful woman was smiling while arm-wrestling with a man of fiendish facial features and plentiful muscles. Seeing as she twisted his arm in a matter of seconds, it could be that he let her win on purpose. However, the man who had lost rubbed his seemingly hurt arm with a strangely believable face.

A silver-haired young girl with a big gauze on her cheek was playing a card game with a blonde person of terribly tattered appearance. It was most likely poker. She looked troubled for not being able to read the other’s expression. While everyone else was emptying bottles of alcohol, only the two of them were making cups of tea into their nighttime company. Each was fixated with their own victory, playing in earnest.

“Ah~! I won~! I won enough to buy a kinda nice pair of shoes! Ah, Lux, aren’t those winning cards?”

“Women who can dance sure are great. V, you suck at playing this, don’t you?”

Benedict, who had had enough of dancing, and Cattleya, who had grown tired of arm wresting, came to sit at the peaceful table as if to intrude on it.

Lux put the cards that she had been hiding up to her lips on the table. “Want to quit poker, Violet?”

“That is right. The cards in our hands have been busted by a third party, after all.”

They did not have the will to get angry. If anything, Lux was so happy for being able to return to that trifling daily life with her companions that she wound up laughing. Perhaps due to the spot where she had been hit aching when she laughed, she arched her back with an “ow, ow, ow”.

“Are you okay? Is it not better for you to rest already...?”

“Yu~p, but I think it’s safer to be with everyone for the day... President Hodgins is here too so I can’t go home.”

Cattleya quickly reacted and looked at Lux’s direction with momentum. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve decided that I’ll be with the President today. See, it’s because the President’s home was in the company’s top floor. We have nowhere to sleep tonight, right? I also had that experience with being kidnapped... He was worried and got me a room at a hotel in the city. It seems President Hodgins will also be staying in it for a while. Until this mess is over, I’ll also be working from there. We’re going together today, so I have to wait for him.”

While Violet replied agreeably with a, “That is reassuring”, Cattleya became beet-red. One could tell from her face what she was imagining. She grabbed Lux’s arm and shook her violently. “You! Do you get what you’re saying?”

“E-Eeh? Our rooms are separated, y’know?”

“Cattleya, Lux is injured.”

“Not a chance. Dunno how many years it’ll last, but not even he is that shameless.”

“Hey! Don’t meddle into a girls’ talk!”

“Ah, you’ve said it. Then don’t barge into when I’m talking with the Old Man no matter what.”

Since another fight had decidedly began, as an accustomed form of coping, Violet and Lux left the two and started their conversation afresh.

“Speaking of which... Violet, are you okay? You’re dressed pretty cutely today... Could it be you were going to meet up with that person... with Mr. Major?”

The moment she received such question was exactly when Violet’s gaze had fixed on the bar’s entrance. “I am fine.”

Someone was heading her way.

Perhaps due to having come in a hurry, said person was out of breath. His sweat-dampened forehead was a proof of the efforts he had been spending until arriving there. He was caught by Hodgins and came to a halt, but even so, he aimed at and went toward her as fast as possible.

That person had soon spotted Violet from the bar’s entrance, and Violet had frozen in place the instant he had arrived as well. It was almost as if there were gravity between them that drew one to the other.

Violet stood up naturally and rushed to him.

——Ah, Violet.

Lux could tell.

——I see, so that’s how it is.

Anyone who was close by would be able to tell.

——The two of you are already like that.

After all, it was as though the air about her had changed completely the moment he had appeared.

“Colonel.”

The one standing there was Colonel Gilbert Bougainvillea from Leidenschaftlich’s army. Perhaps because he was on an off day, he wore only a jacket of fine tailoring and a shirt. Inquisitive stares from the people making a ruckus in the bar fell upon him all at once.

“Violet.”

After all, he was a man rumored within the company for moving the army in order to protect Violet. His existence was made known during the hijacking incident of the Intercontinental train, after which a year had passed not too long before. Of course, that was a story only told internally and Hodgins was publicly regarded as the main leader of such strategy.

The members of the postal company who had gathered up to save her had seen in person the man who came running while carrying her princess style. Back then, they had also witnessed Benedict being entrusted with Violet, his mouth open as if he had grown senile.

“Colonel, my apologies... I ended up breaking our arrangement.”

Her cottony hair was ruined. The outfit chosen for her and that her body was clad in had become like ragged cloths. Everything she had prepared for him had been reduced to misery today.

Nevertheless, seeing her dressed-up caused Gilbert’s heart to beat louder.

“You...”

“You look beautiful” was what he had started to say, but upon noticing a stare of pressuring quality to a fierce extent from the side, he trailed off.

Benedict seemed extremely unamused. He clicked his tongue as their eyes met.

“Anything the matter...?”

“Not really. There any law that says I can’t look at the bastard who snoops into V’s general area every once in a blue moon ever since that incident like he’s a rare sight?”

“You helped me out holding onto Violet back then. I’m grateful... And, I don’t know about any such law, but if it’s about putting up a watchdog act, I’m the one on top.”

Something like an electric shockwave ran between the two of them. Benedict remained not toning down his distrust regarding Gilbert until now, peeved by that man who seemed like he could become a love rival for Benedict’s significant other had he been in the same workplace as them.

“This was the curtain rise of their muddled battle!” just as the two had opened their mouths again, Hodgins cut in with a foolish commentary.

Silence. The two simultaneously glared at Hodgins as if looking at something deplorable.

Hodgins himself broke Gilbert and Benedict apart, coming in between them, putting his arms around each and laughing stridently, “Don’t fight for me! Man~, I wanted to try saying this once.”

“Shut up, Old Man!”

“Stay away, Hodgins. You’re reeking of booze.”

It was a conversation with a magnificent explosive power. By the looks of it, Gilbert and Benedict did not seem like they would get along, but their attitude towards Hodgins was similar.

“Old Man, tomorrow will be terrible for you if you drink too much. You’re at that age, aren’t you?”

“Darling... you’re saying that because you’re worried about me, right?”

“Hey, stop. Stop. I’m not a woman.”

As Benedict stepped away from Hodgins, who was attempting to give him a kiss, Gilbert and Violet were at last able to lock eyes with each other again. Violet had a face that denounced she had gone through a hellish time.

“Any injuries?”

“Minor ones. The same level as scratching a knee.”

“That’s good...” He was truly saying so from the bottom of his heart. Seeing Cattleya and Lux anxiously observing the two of them, Gilbert spoke further, “You too, any injuries? Aah... you need a medic.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

Lux had already received treatment, yet it seemed like her wound might open the next day.

Perhaps always carrying it in his person, Gilbert took a fountain pen and small notebook from his jacket’s inner pocket, handing her a paper sheet that contained a certain address within Leiden. “This is the clinic where my home doctor is. You don’t need to pay if you give my name, so go there another day. You’ll probably need painkillers for a while. Even in the hotel you’re staying at, please give my name to the hotelman if you need anything. We’re on friendly terms, so he’ll treat you well.”

Lux acted uncertain when accepting the paper. “Ah. Thank you very much. You’re very generous... Could it be... that the hotel reservation... Mr. Bougainvillea, erm... Colonel Bougainvillea, was made by you?”

After glancing at Hodgins, who was entangling himself with Benedict, Gilbert nodded. “That thing asked me for it. I can’t say this aloud but I’ve also disposed of... the documents submitted to the government office in the name of your company. When I use my influence in places outside of my jurisdiction... I end up losing one card that I could otherwise use in the event of an emergency, but...” Perhaps as if remembering something, he furrowed his brows a little and chuckled. “Hodgins took care of Violet. I also won’t spare any efforts for you all in case something happens. If there’s any worrisome matter, it can even be through Violet, but do tell me.”

“Y-Yes.”

Cattleya and Lux mutely let their cheeks dye pink. Was there any girl whose heart would not throb at Gilbert as he displayed adult-man-like reliance in a different way from Hodgins?

“Colonel, you’re so cool.”

“Colonel, you are wonderful.”

No, there was not.

For whatever reason, the two had their fingers interlaced in front of their chests and were striking the same pose.

Gilbert replied levelly, “You aren’t my subordinates so you don’t need to refer to me by my rank.”

Violet pulled the hem of Gilbert’s jacket ever so lightly. “Colonel, hum... would you like to sit down? You must be tired.”

“Aah, no. I’m sorry but I’m taking my leave. You too, Violet. The two are at the Bougainvillea house and we’re making them worry. I already contacted them to say I’d bring you back, so come along. It stopped by a place a little far away, but I have a carriage ready, so let’s walk there. Miss Lux. You... were together with Hodgins for today, right? Miss Cattleya, what about you? We can send you home if necessary.”

“Y-You know my name?! Mine?!”

“Of course; I heard it from Violet. So, what will you do?”

Perhaps due to extreme happiness at that, Cattleya slapped Violet’s back with quite strong vigor countless times, making merry. “I’m fine! I’ll be here with everyone until morning today!”

“It’s probably better if you’re in big numbers. Well, my apologies since we’re in the middle of a pleasant talk, but I’m taking her along. Thank you... for always being so close to Violet. Let’s meet again somewhere else. Please let me at least treat you to a meal.” Gilbert all too naturally took off his jacket and placed it over Violet’s shoulders. He began escorting her away just like that.

“Ah! Bastard! Hold on! V is my little sister part!”

“Everyone, good night. Benedict too.”

“Wait! V~! Hey—Old Man!”

Binding Benedict’s arms behind his back, Hodgins sent Violet a wink. It was true that he was drunk, but his tactic was probably to keep Benedict away from Gilbert. He might have been paying for the sin of making the two of them miss out on the time they had to spend with each other because of his kidnapping.

Hodgins and Gilbert merely exchanged short goodbyes such as, “I’ll call” and, “See you”.

“Benedict’s had an overwhelming defeat, huh.”

“Old Man!”

“Man, he’s rivaling you... but he’s also not.”

The two young women left behind spoke while still staring at the bar’s entrance.

“To be honest, the President told me a lot about Violet’s past after that incident, and I didn’t not wonder if someone like him was okay for her... but, when you meet him, y’know...”

“Yup, its different when you get to meet him, right?”

“It’s because he really did cherish her that he made many mistakes, did his best to take back a lot of things, and now they’re like this, huh,” Lux whispered, deep in thought.

Treading through an autumn night in which the nocturnal winds were gelid robbed the two a little of the body heat provided by the warm interior of the bar. Violet, who Gilbert had put his jacket over, looked at him with only his shirt on as if to question him.

He soon noticed her gaze and their eyes met. He then smiled at her. “Aren’t you cold?”

Just from him simply throwing those words at her, as Violet was still unused to it, her heart raced. “No; Major, what about you?”

The times that the two of them met up were still at a point where they could be counted with one hand, and during such instances, the restraint brought about by his long absence would manifest itself in the form of agitation. From the perspective of others, that could almost not be perceived. After all, her facial expressions were generally emotionless.

“I’m fine. I’ve run around and sweated a lot today, so I’m still warm.”

“My apologies, Colonel.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for. I did that because I wanted to. Violet. It was also for Hodgins’s sake.”

“All right, Colonel.”

“Let’s walk a little slower. Once we get on the carriage, the way home will last a blink of eye.”

“Is that bad...?”

The one who had made the request was Gilbert, and the words Violet was about to say wound up dying out before they could take form. That was because he sweetly added, “I don’t have enough time with you”.

“All right, Major.”

Her eyes spoke more eloquently than her expressionless self. Violet’s blue orbs were glued to Gilbert’s emerald ones.

“I want to chat a little too. Is everything okay with that young man called Benedict?”

“By that, you mean...?”

“He seems to favor you.”

“He has another woman that he fancies. It seems they are in a relationship, and they themselves are hiding it but everyone around them knows.”

“That so?”

“Yes, he is... in an older brother-like... position regarding... my person, he told me.”

“Told you? That man?”

Their eye and hair colors were certainly similar, and the man could be said to be an androgynous beauty, but his speech and conduct were much too different from Violet’s.

“He himself was saying so.”

“Aah, he indeed called you his ‘little sister part’... Should I interpret that as him showing affection for you...? But it doesn’t look like we will get along very well.”

“Is that so?”

“It will probably be difficult.”

As Violet had heard the story of Hodgins and Gilbert’s past, she estimated that such assumption would be disproved. Gilbert and Hodgins were also a duo that one would not think got along well.

“It seems he’ll get in the way when I’m with you.”

Since Gilbert made a face as if he had swallowed a bitter-tasting bug, Violet did not voice her opinion in the end. “Major.”

“What is it?” As Violet called him, the middle of his brows immediately softened.

“If you had managed to meet with me as planned today, where did you intend to go?”

“Aah, I had actually made an arrangement for us to go horse-riding.”

“Horses.”

“You can ride army horses, and I think long rides aren’t bad if it’s on fine autumn weather days... Did you not like it?”

“Colonel, there is nothing that I dislike if I am in your company.”

“That answer makes me happy, but I do believe I want to learn about your tastes little by little. Kukuh.”

As Gilbert suddenly laughed aloud, Violet tilted her neck. “Is something the matter?”

“You... probably haven’t noticed it, but you’ve been mixing up ‘Major’ and ‘Colonel’ when referring to me.”

As he had been promoted from major to lieutenant-colonel and from lieutenant-colonel to colonel, it could be said that referring to Gilbert with a lower rank was terribly inappropriate.

Violet corrected her posture and apologized again, “I... am sorry. My apologies, Colonel.”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not angry... Ever since you were little, you used to call me that. The first word I heard from you was this one, too. I’m saying that if you can’t get used to it, I don’t mind the ‘Major’.”

“‘Colonel’... Colonel, I will not mistake it anymore.”

Her figure as she attempted to memorize it, in order not to forget it, was lovably stubborn. Gilbert caught a glimpse of her past self from that immature aspect of hers.

At the beginning, the two of them had had an inept exchange. Almost like how children would do it, they had told each other their names.

“Ma... jor.”

“Can you understand what I’m saying, Violet?”

“Major.”

After learning words and coming to know discipline, she had become his weapon.

“If that is Major’s order...”

“It’s not an order...”

“If... it is your desire...”

He had wound up loving the girl-weapon.

“Major’s eyes are here.”

“I wonder... what this is called.”

It had been a one-sided love.

“I will become your ‘shield’ and ‘weapon’.”

“I shall protect you.”

“Please do not ever doubt this. I am your ‘asset’.”

Even so, he had loved her.

“I love you!”

“I don’t want to let you die! Violet!”

“I love you, Violet.”

The girl-weapon had wept that she did not understand what she had been bestowed with.

“What is... ‘love’?”

No one had taught her about it.

“What is... ‘love’? What is... ‘love’? What is ‘love’?”

“I do not understand, Major...”

She had also not understood why he had said such a thing to her.

“What is... ‘love’?”

She had searched for the meaning of those words and for him, who had disappeared, encountering them by chance at last.

And so, they had reached the present time.

“Violet.” Gilbert took her artificial fingertips as she stood still.

Her index finger made screeching sounds.

“Since we’re at it, won’t you call me by my name?” He pointed her finger at himself.

The fingertips that used to be soft and have body temperature in the past did not anymore. The same applied to one of Gilbert’s arms.

“I am Gilbert. Gilbert Bougainvillea.” He pointed at Violet next. “You are Violet. Violet Evergarden.” He moved the finger both ways, saying, “Gilbert, Violet... Gilbert, Violet.”

The two who had ended up with mechanical part had grown and changed. They were not parent and child originally. Not siblings, either. They had also ceased being superior and subordinate.

“Lord Gilbert.”

At Violet’s predictable response, Gilbert smiled bitterly. “The ‘lord’ part... isn’t necessary.”

He had supposedly spoken gently, yet Violet showed him an aspect of disconcertment. “My apologies... Have you... come to hate me...?”

“No. I don’t know how to feel anything but affection towards you... It appears that...” while thinking that it was also valid for himself, Gilbert stated, “hum... you become insecure about it every now and then, but I’ll never hate you.”

“How come?” Violet asked.

How great would it be if he were able to show the insides of his heart to her? Presenting with a form that “this is love” would be so simple. However, it was due to not being able to do such a thing that people uttered words to proffer their love.

“Because I love you most.”

Violet started searching for that term within the sea of words embedded inside her. “‘Love... most’...” As they rolled out of her tongue, what appalling yet passionate words those were.

There was no other sentence more fitting of Gilbert Bougainvillea.

“Love me... most?”

“I have eyes for nobody but you. You’re the only one I’m fond of.”

“That is... to love most?”

“I will hold you dear for eternity, and continue to love you.”

She did not ask “That is... to love most?” a second time. Violet’s cheeks were rose-dusted, her heart started palpitating to the point of aching, and her field of vision blurred. She was unable to look at Gilbert’s face. Unwittingly, she cast her head down, yet he wound up peering at it. The distance between their faces was just about enough for them to kiss.

It was currently nighttime and the two of them were alone in that place, so whatever they did, no one would be looking. Maybe they could manage to keep it a secret even from God.

“I had a phase of... liking you... then I fell in love with you, and now, it turns out I love you the most. Do you understand?”

“Does it never diminish?”

“The affection?”

“The love.”

“I wonder. But I don’t want that to happen and will probably reconfirm whether I do love you numerous times, so it’ll likely intensify, not decrease. You fill me up with it.”

“With love?”

“Yes. The reason why I believe I love you is because you granted me that feeling.”

Violet Evergarden, who had been learning and copying from him – from people –, was able to take in the meaning of those words.

“I do that to you, Major?”

Again, her manner of referring to him had changed. Gilbert thought it was fine either way.

“You do that to me.” Gilbert silently planted a kiss not on Violet’s cheek or lips but on the fingertips that he was holding onto.

Silence.

Those were artificial fingers. She was unable to feel anything from them. Her arms were gone, and would nevermore return.

Placing a kiss on such a spot could transmit nothing.

Even so, he had deliberately kissed it in an affectionate manner. For some reason, that action – Gilbert’s feelings – caused Violet’s eyes to grow hot as if burning and produce tears.

Violet attempted to stop them. Those were incomprehensible tears. Why were they flowing at that moment? They would definitely trouble the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, tears were already pooling in her moist eyes until, finally, a single drop spilled down. Sure enough, the round tear that had fallen from one of her eyes left Gilbert distraught.

“Violet.” Seeing her reaction, he promptly let go of her fingers. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, raising both hands as if to have her understand that he would not do anything else. “I’m really sorry.”

Violet did not answer. She stared at Gilbert without even wiping off the tear as if spacing out. Her attitude was not of anger. Her aspect was not of sorrow, either. He had no idea what she was thinking. She had the gaze of someone who seemed to be having a dream.

The two of them had lived separately, and he had thought that her facial expressions had become richer ever since they had reunited, but once she clammed up, he could not read her. Her lack of expression and well-featured doll-like traits did not allow Gilbert to study her emotions. However, the one thing he could fathom was that his action just now had been foolish.

——What am I doing?

He had told her that he would wait however long it took. The kiss on her fingers might have been a violation to that promise. He should have been the best gentleman for her, but he may have lost that right.

When she was by his side, she was unbearably endearing. The love towards her that lit up within his chest wound up overflowing.

“I swear I won’t do it anymore...”

The army colonel of Leidenschaftlich was losing face in front of the girl he was enamored with.

“Violet...”

What face was he making now? What did she think of it?

“Major, I...” Violet called him with her wind chime voice. She grabbed onto Gilbert’s fingers and took one step forward. The distance between them had shrunk once again. And then she took another step.

She was close enough to be embraced by Gilbert.

“Violet...”

“Major... please.” Violet peeked into Gilbert’s eye.

The emerald-green orb that had unchangeably borne beauty, kindness and a little bit of loneliness ever since they had first met was right there. Violet was now reflected in it.

Violet was inside his world.

“Do not swear so.”

Gilbert’s eyelid blinked at her straightforward words.

“Please, do not swear... that you will not do it.”

Seeing tears well up in Violet’s eyes once again, Gilbert impulsively reached an arm out to her. He caressed her golden hair as if to soothe her, earnestly listening to what she was attempting to tell him.

“Major, you explained it to me, right? That to love is to think of wanting to... protect someone the most.”

He wiped her tears with his fingertips.

Violet entrusted her cheek to his hand and shed more tears. “This has... applied to me since forever.”

She was attempting to replenish her lacking life. Rather, the truth was that the two of them could have done that from the moment they had met, for it was almost as if they made up for each other’s unskillfulness, but they had missed one another countless times and had not intersected well.

Violet’s chest was now being filled up with a warm feeling that she was experiencing for the first time.

“It always, always has, since long ago. I merely... did not know it...”

——This loud throbbing in my chest, this ecstasy, the fact that I end up swayed by your every action...

“I...”

——...the reason why I cried that I wanted to be by your side and asked you not to leave me anymore...

“Major... I...”

——...the reason why I am crying now...

“I, as of now...”

——...is that, once the “like” and the “love” fell and piled up like snow, and I became unable to melt them down, I had wanted to let you know that I wished the same to be valid for you.

“...have a feeling that I...”

People would declare it as if offering a prayer.

“...understand it better than before.”

“I love you”, that is.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #kyoani #kyoto animation #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hogdins #benedict blue #cattleya baudelaire #lux sibyl #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation

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cross-d-a · 4 years

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fic tag game

aaahhh @vishcount thank you for tagging me!!! These are so fun and I adored reading about your fic journey~! ೖ(⑅σ̑ᴗσ̑)ೖ ❤

OH as a note!! For the ppl I tag at the end I don’t expect you to read all of this bc it’s A Lot!!! but I figured you might want to do this game yourself? haha :)

Name: cross-d-a shortened version of my first ever username. unfortunately stuck with it now haha but i’m fond of it :p wish it was cuter tho!!

Posting the rest of this under the cut so it doesn’t eat up people’s dashes!!

(｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

Fandoms:

oKAY YIKES there are....honestly too many too name. I’ve got a short and obsessive attention span so it’s either all or nothing with me usually. When I can stay in a fandom for a long period of time it’s a miracle. I’ll name the bigger ones that I’ve all written fic for! Even if I’ve never posted them haha

Right now I’m very firmly into Daomu Biji (dmbj). It feels like it’s both got a crap ton of content and yet barely anything at all haha. Maybe because the English fandom is so small. But at least there are a bunch of dramas and books!!! I really, really, really adore dmbj so much!! And a large part of that is the fandom!!! It's been a really cool and unique experience! Everyone in it is truly so kind and wonderful, and I’ve made some really incredible friends because of it (looking at you vish!! ❤). I’ve got a bunch of wips, but I’ve only posted two fics for dmbj!

Before this I was very into Guardian and mdzs. MDZS was my first foray into cdramas and Guardian’s Zhu Yilong really suckered me into watching more haha I also have fics for both these fandoms!

My very first fandoms were Fullmetal Alchemist, D. Gray-Man and Naruto. My very old ffnet account has fics for these and I’ve got a bunch of newer wips on my tablet. Then Star Trek, Twilight, BBC Merlin, Sherlock, Death Note, Harry Potter, How to Train Your Dragon, Battlestar Galactica, Avatar the Last Airbender and Marvel were a few of my main ones in high school. Plus a bunch of anime (like Fruits Basket! and Kuroshitsuji and Natsume Yuujinchou).

Then college hit and I renewed my childhood love of Tolkien (mainly lotr and the Hobbit), and Star Wars. I also found Teen Wolf! Then after college it was Stranger Things.

I find myself in a cycle of mild fondness and complete obsession with these fandoms haha I go back to Star Wars at least once a year!! Then I’m in the gffa hole for a few months. Marvel also reoccurs, depending on how interested I am in new content! Star Trek I always always always go back to. TOS is my comfort show and it will never fade from my heart ❤

But for now I’m stuck in cdrama hell and I love it

Tropes:

Time travel, found family, whump+hurt/comfort, fairytale-like elements, resurrective immortality (thanks to a “Nine Lives” Hobbit fic), CROSSOVERS

I’m a slut for all these things so they often worm their way into my plots haha

I also just- love weird premises. I think that’s the anime influencing me haha

Fic I spent most time on:

My series he leaves sand and stardust in my wake (main fic is hurricane on the edge of oblivion), I have...spent five years on now. I have done so much research for this fic it’s insane.

The premise is force ghost!Obi-Wan getting shunted back into his tiny 10 year old self. I incorporate a shit ton of legends and I try to stay as canon as possible. I basically want this au to feel like it’s 1000% plausible while still getting all my gay shit. It’s chock full of whump, redemption, found family, minor characters turning into major characters, and I’ve got slavery uprising on the mind, too. It’s just- everything I could ever want to explore in the Star Wars universe basically.

It’s my first big project. I started doodling and scribbling ideas in the margins of my notebook in my Scottish History class. I adore it so so so much. But, because of my hyperfixation and fleeting intense obsession with things it makes it- really difficult to consistently update. I leave it for months at a time and I am constantly guilt-ridden about it. Because it’s my baby and I have a lot of wonderful readers. I fear I’ll never be able to finish it. Especially since I’ve written so much and I’m still only in the beginning of it. ( ; A ; )

Also, I’ve spent so much time with Xanatos, Feemor and Bruck that they just feel like mine now. I can’t read any fics that involve them, it’s too strange. Which is a damn shame because I love them so much haha OH ALSO!! I think it’s the first really big fic to include those three?? So I’m very proud about that haha (I’ve had so many ppl comment about how they actually Give A Shit about these three and are Invested bc of me haha)

Favorite fic(s) you’ve written:

hurricane on the edge of oblivion (with nowhere to go) (Star Wars)

My long-term passion project. My love-letter to Star Wars, I suppose. Reading it now I feel like a lot of it is clunky or long-winded, but I think it really shows the foundation of my writing today :) Main characters are Obi-Wan, Xanatos Du Crion, Qui-Gon Jinn, Bruck Chun and Feemor. Eventually we’ll get to Maul, Savage, Feral, Shmi Skywalker, (more!) Ahsoka, Anakin and a shit ton of clones ❤

things we hunger for (Guardian)

My Ye Zun self-indulgent fic. It’s a time travel amnesia Weilanzun! Honestly has some of my fav writing I’ve ever done. It’s so soft and really indulges in the hurt/comfort. It gives Ye Zun the friends and family I think he deserves. Also, he gets to grow into a (mostly!) functional person and I adore him.

the beast that slumbers within your soul (mdzs)

Jiang Cheng centric fic!! I feel like all my favourite fics I’ve written are love letters haha. This is one def my love letter to Jiang Cheng. This fic possessed me for two whole days. I wrote 16k in almost one sitting. I went to sleep at 6 in the morning bc I couldn’t stop writing. And when I drifted off I kept thinking of new ideas so I’d whip out my phone and write down lines and notes. I- have never ever ever felt that way about anything. It was- insane. It felt insane. It was so amazing. I’m still riding the memory of that high.

Basically Jiang Cheng actually finds Baoshan Sanren and it turns out she’s a fox demon and Jiang Cheng is descended from wolves. It’s- okay I said the fic above this had my favourite writing?? That was a lie. This has my favourite writing I’ve ever done. It’s unfinished bc I am in dmbj hell but I am still excited about the next chapter which features Wei Wuxian’s pov!!

the whispers of spirits (dmbj)

My current passion project. In a way it kinda feels similar to hurricane? Bc multiple povs, incorporating different aspects of canon (we’ll get there!! I promise!), shit ton of research, etc. etc. I really really really love it for so many reasons. I’m basically taking all the things I was unsatisfied with in Reboot and Sha Hai and running with it. Found family and whump galore! It’s also a love letter to the women of dmbj who really deserve so so so much better.

Honourable mention to:

One Day (you’ll have given more of yourself than is meant to be taken) (Marvel)

This fic also kinda possessed me. I just- couldn’t get rid of the idea of a trans!Thor. And I mean a mtf Thor! It’s just? So many people look at Thor and go “that’s a Real Man.” Full stop. They never think there could be anything more, and it really really really bothered me. So I wrote out my feelings. I’m not trans. I don’t have that experience at all. I’ve had issues and confusion about my gender but nothing like this. I just wanted to do justice to this idea of Thor in my head. And I still feel a bit nervous having posted it. But I've gotten so many comments from people who really connected with what I’ve written? So I’m very very thankful I wrote it and it has a very special place in my heart. It’s a very cathartic fic.

Fic I spent least time on:

Probably we rise (Star Wars) and I think it shows haha. I wrote it in response to Dave Filoni posting a drawing of Ahsoka and Gandalf telling her “People thought I was dead, too, and look how that turned out...” So I incorporated Ahsoka (and Din and Grogu and Ezra!!!) into the ending of Rise of Skywalker, kinda explaining how I think they could all still be alive. :)

Longest fic:

hurricane is my longest fic (159k) but I’m kinda worried whispers will eclipse that.....

Shortest fic:

Of my posted ones it’s The Five Moments it Took Tony and Scott to Admit They Were Best Friends (and the first time they ever did), currently clocks at 1.6k. It’s unfinished tho so maybe that doesn’t count.... otherwise it’s we rise which is completed and 2k.

Most hits/kudos/comments/bookmarks:

hurricane overall has the most of all these. Though I don’t think hits counts as much bc it’s multi-chapter. If you discount multi-chapter stuff, most hits goes to my obikin smutfic Homecoming, bc people are horny af haha

Fic you want to rewrite/expand on:

If I had energy I’d like to rewrite the beginning of hurricane bc it feels so so wordy. I’d want to expand on One Day bc I really would like to write a whole series with trans!Thor. And like- I’d really like the focus to finish any of my WIPs.

Share a bit of a WIP: I really wanna share my Guardian/dmbj crossover that I started back in August. Bc I adore the idea of wu xie&shen wei&ye zun triplets! Plus time travel!!! I dunno if I’ll ever finish it tho ( ; A ; ) It just feels like a lot to deal with right now.

This scene takes place during the Mountain Awl arc. Guardian crew and desperado fam run across each other at the village! Wu Xie has recently found out that he’s adopted and he’s searching for answers in the area Sanshu originally found amnesiac!toddler!Wu Xie in :) Gonna pull two snippets bc I’m v excited and this might be the only time anyone else sees this fic haha:

“Oh?” Pangzi focuses on Yunlan now, lips twisting. “You think I’ve ‘got the wrong guy,’ huh?” He laughs, but it’s not a nice sound. “That’s rich! Are you that cocky or are you just stupid?”

Bristling, Yunlan drops his hands and scowls. “Excuse me?”

“Sir,” Shen Wei tries. “I think—”

Pangzi’s eyes snap back to Shen Wei, sharp and blazing. “How dare you fucking steal his face!”

What?

Automatically, Zhao Yunlan turns to Shen Wei, but the professor looks just as shell-shocked as Zhao Yunlan feels which- is seriously something. Since everything about Shen Wei is so carefully controlled, kept to the minimum. Except for those delightful little smiles that bloom across his lovely face, or the startled little bursts of laughter that fall from his lips. Or even when anger and frustration spark across his features, cracking his calm veneer open enough that he can see a glimmer of what lies beneath, the fire in those eyes. Zhao Yunlan delights in those moments, makes a game of making Shen Wei’s control slip.

He tells himself it’s nothing more than a game. Nothing more than trying to find out what makes Shen Wei tick.

Zhao Yunlan’s always been very bad at lying to himself. Or very good. Depending on who you’re asking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Yunlan splutters.

But before anyone can say anything else, a very familiar voice calls:

“Pangzi? What’s wrong?”

Yunlan can feel Shen Wei stiffen, and Yunlan himself is pulled to that voice like a planet in orbit, like the inevitable plummet to the ground.

Another shadow wavers in the doorway before it steps out onto the dirt. Light illuminates shaggy hair, limning it gold, sharply casting everything else in shadow. But as the figure nears, the contrast softens until Yunlan can see the newcomer’s face properly and- and—

“Wu Xie!” Pangzi growls. “We’ve got ourselves an impostor!”

The man wearing Shen Wei’s face steps up to them, brows furrowed and mouth pulled down into a sharp frown. He glances between them, eyes landing on Shen Wei. His scowl deepens. He opens his mouth, but then—

“Wu Xie?” Shen Wei breathes, all trembly and lost and hopeless.

Heart in his throat, Yunlan turns to Shen Wei again. Turns and flinches at that stricken look upon Shen Wei’s pale pinched face.

“A-Xie?” Shen Wei chokes. “Didi?”

and

Pangzi snorts. “Professor?”

“I-it’s true!”

Startled Yunlan swings his attention over to Jiajia who clenches her backpack to her chest, face screwed up in admirable determination. “P-professor Shen took me and Xiao Quan on a field trip to investigate an archeological site around here!”

“Oh?” Wu Xie drawls all slow and amused. “Well, what a coincidence. We’re archeologists, too.”

“With guns?” Yunlan bites out.

Wu Xie raises a brow, grin full of teeth. “Well, you can never be too prepared.”

“Right,” Yunlan drawls right back. “Are you a professor, too, then? You come here with your students?”

Wu Xie outright grins. “You could say that, I suppose.”

Out of the corner of his eye, one of the men rolls his eyes. He’s the one with sharp features, glasses and looped earbuds. Does he think it’s appropriate to listen to music at a time like this? Yunlan admires the man’s gall.

aahhhh vish thanks so much again for tagging me!! This was so fun to relive my fic memories!! I’m gonna tag @alwaysaslutforshakespeare @jockvillagersonly @tehfanglyfish @lichelleme @undyingsunshine @humanlighthouse @thewindsofsong I’m curious about your guys’ writing and fandom journey!! As always, no pressure to actually complete this!! I just thought it was fun ❤

Wow if you read all of this I am very humbled and impressed, thank you!!

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

#cross talks #my fic #fanfiction #uhhh what else do i tag this as i dunno #about me #cross posts #wip fic

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kiwikipedia · 3 years

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Hi me again! Any headcanons regarding the preffered lightsaber style of Plo Koon and Bultar? What made you headcanon she and Agen were creche mates?

I’m kinda shit at saber styles, but here we gooo!

- Plo Koon’s canon style is Form V: Shien but he is well versed in Ataru.

- According to Legends, he beat Yoda in a duel and so I consider that canon.

- Onto other things, I certainly headcanon that Plo is well versed in Djem So along with Shien because of they share the same form category

- he’s also well versed in Jar’kai and Niman, but not as much as both forms of V and Ataru.

- In the heat of battle, though, he’s known to just abandon forms and punch someone out if he needs to because for as ‘Typical Jedi’ looking as he is, sometimes you just gotta punch someone.

- He and Cin commonly duel when Plo’s dirtside and Cin’s not busy

- On that one, one of the most well-whispered duels of that year had been between the two of them because no one expected a duel to last an hour with neither giving an inch

- As for Bultar, she doesn’t have a canonical saber form but her first master, Micah’s, preferred form was Jar’kai and so he taught her that alongside Niman, but I don’t think it would be her preferred form.

- Taking that into account, lets look at her other skills: Bultar is also proficient in unarmed combat and canonically (legends) speaking, Bultar knows and excelled in a unique fighting style that blended Teräs Käsi and the Verdanaian "Sliding Hands"

- The wiki simply states: “When fighting an opponent, Swan would remain still and entice her foe to attack. She would then strike forward with awesome speed, blurring her complex routine of moves into a whirl of motion” and “a fluid and acrobatic combat style. In combat, she would use her lightsaber to block attacks while seeking an opportunity to disarm her foe. She would then rain punches and kicks on her unarmed opponent until they surrendered. Her methods in lightsaber combat were greatly influenced by her profound interest in martial arts”

- Thus, I feel she would also lean heavily on Ataru, but she definitely knows and can use Niman and Jar’Kai because of Micah, and maybe she picked up some Shien from Plo? Who knows.

- Honestly, though, Bultar forgets she has her lightsaber sometimes and just punches her enemies and it freaks Banks out so much, please help him.

What made you headcanon she and Agen were creche mates?

Honestly, it was just an idea that the two would be the funniest fucking side-character duo.

- Agen is very much the “fight first, ask later” type of person while Bultar is more willing to negotiate— but when action needed to be taken, both of them feel that further discussion is a waste of time.

- So my thought process was “haha, wouldn’t it be funny if Agen had a friend who was just as willing to fight as he was but more reigned in and also was the sane man to his more violent antics?”

- And Bultar being the “hoe don’t do it. [agen blows something up] oh my god” to Agen was just very funny to me when I decided to do it. I actually have a lot of headcanons pertaining to the Jedi and their ages, but that can be for another time.

- Also Bultar’s actress, Mimi Daraphet, looked similar in age to Tux Akindoyeni, who was Agen’s actor. This is just going by the AotC though— since it’s next to impossible to find stuff on Daraphet and Akindoyeni outside of star wars

- so logically, that means Agen’s also agemates/crèchemates with Lissarkh. Because I personally headcanon that she and Bultar are the same age. So yes, Plo was (even though it's not allowed in canon fuck that noise) training two Padawans at once.

- And then for the heck of it, I threw in Sha (Plo’s niece) and Voolvif Monn (because I love him, and Agen and Voolvif had a friendship moment in the outer rim in the 2003 series)

- So yeah, the five of them are the chaos crèche crew because I thought it would be funny. And it was. Is. To me at least.

#Templarhalo tag #Agen Kolar #Bultar Swan #Plo Koon #chaos crèchemates #penguinkiwi answers stuff #Penguinkiwi Headcanons #star wars

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anestheticrage · 4 years

Text

Be me: Japanese honor student🎓, 15, with half a brain and even less of a plan. Hunting bitches by day and witches by night. Livin that dank only child✌️ life while mom n dad yeet all over the globe, leavin me plenty of time to forget not to make 2 lunches for myself #quirky 😜

no time for socialization or basic electronics skills ???📱??? when your best friends are an alien demon rabbit🐰👽 and the inexplicable Hole ™ in your brain. lmao, btw did i mention im ✨M✨A✨G✨I✨C✨A✨L✨

dreamin bout my 2D waifus again when familiar pink haired cancer patient dances through my brain passin out fliers: Kamihama Meguca Dating Service: Sponsored by Cult of the Magius. 250 stones per session 🤔

seems legit, Mr. Moneybags. wasn't spending my unwieldy sack of gemstones on anything else anyway. lets pull 💎💎💎

first up we have Redhead Radagast and her plethora of plants. 🌿☺️🦎

anndd, nearly dies immediately.

well not off to a great start but i guess shes pretty cute at lea- oh FUCK its her girlfriend, Tsundere Poseidon😒🔱💦, and their exasperated, straight and single Sword Mom 😔🗡️🔥. fml gonna have to save up for the next pull. might as well play a few rounds with what i got tho.

get in some good girl talk about things like school, color coded hair styles, body count, permanent soul damage, and our personal demon pacts. ya know, the usual 😚 . realize my dark backstory seems to be missing, so the girls take me to Ketchup Queen Sappho 🍅🥧 (wtf?) to molest my glowy egg stone. whatevs, more action than ive had since Kuroe 🖤 got added to the story anyway

the gang agrees it's time to hunt down the cutest rabbit pimp 🕶️🐇💵 in the city. >> say 🎵mukyuuu🎵 one more time and ill hug you so hard my backstory will pop right out, you adorable fluffy bastard. plz be my new best friend 💕

Form brand new friendship pact with Kyubae, and remember that my lil Sis 🐥 was always the best wingman for pickin up magic chicks, and kept her side of the room so spotless i forgot she existed. whoops 乁༼☯‿☯✿༽ㄏ Maybe if I find her i can stop paying these exorbitant pull fees.📵💎

speaking of which: hot damn this week's featured bachelorette is a 19 year old model and magical detective🔎 with massive levels of PTSD and self loathing 🥵💙💦 more likely to stab you or dramatically jump off a rooftoop than utter a single positive comment. wow, maybe i really COULD find true love…

... if i had MORE THAN A 1% FUCKING DRAW CHANCE. 😡 smh

hard to make much progress finding sis or winning the broken heart of a hard boiled detective amidst the never ending lover's quarrel of the Trident Vine Lesbians. 💔 Sword Mom tells them if they don't behave a monster will take them away. LOL classic mom 🤣

>>>HOLY FUCK IT DID

declare all-out war on urban legends, starting with staircases ⚔️ to reunite the dysfunctional trio, and hope that I net a way better lineup with the next 10x pull. at least sad sleuth lady came to help out. they say combat is the best way to bond wi- and there she goes off the rooftop again 🙄 fml

alright that got way off track, we need a fresh start, away from all the loli drama. how bout a little B&E🔓🔨🤷🏻‍♀️ at the local house of worship to clear my head. ahh nothing like the unanswered prayers of the masses to get you in the mood for another wasted pull, and the 🔥 MIGHTIEST 🔥 headache you could ask for with a side of Double Cooked Pork 🐖🍜 (meh 5/10🧾)

venture forth into the spiritual unknown with your new human flamethrower🔥🌻🧡 and ask your favorite private eye to please, for the love of Eve, trade Meguca accounts with me~~~ Head through the eastern spirit portal to meet up with hologram propaganda sis and detective crush's evil ex, who joined a dating-app cult (#fuck) and also turned into the moon?🌕?(that's rough buddy)

get ambushed by Acid Horse on Wheels 🌈🐴 and vomit up my soul so hard that its time for a crossover episode. T U R F F F W A R R R *que operatic harmonies* 💛 Blondie with the hair drills and enough attitude and guns to fill up a noble phantasm tries to ban my account permanently, but PI heartthrob denies her admin privileges. aww babe i didn't know you cared. 😭♥️

get kidnapped by my new true love and go back to her place 😏 defs enough empty rooms to house five emotionally traumatized girls and at least two ghosts hehehe👻 XD 💚🃏💜🎸 decide to form the anti-gossip brigade and recruit my blazing sunflower after getting ambushed by the witch living in my fruit loops🥣

❌outvoted 2:1 that cults are bad. mf. fiinneee one last pull to round out the team and then I'll delete the app. cmonnn Karin 🎃~

OH HELL YEAH TWO FOR ONE.

Always wanted a daughter 💜🔨🐄 with a penchant for pissing off the local Martial Arts & Books Club and drinking suspicious liquids offered by total strangers. Well if it's good enough for her AND the sexy mayadere with enough game to seduce a mermaid, might as well get in on that myself.

#curseddrank 🤢 0/24 would not recommend to a friend, 'cept maybe Ria

win alot of cash 🤑, blow up a fountain, meet the pied piper²🎶🖕, moon cult, monochrome feathers, something about liberation✊🏻; adopt temper tantrum cow girl. aces 💜🥩

Next up!!! skydiving with DJ Hammer! Jump to apparently-not-certain death after suicidal A.I. 💚💾🗼 tells you to rescue her hostage before they run out of Radiohead albums and have to move on to Thom Yorke's solo discography. save the invisible shield kitten 💚👑😿 from happiness and get chased through the internet by the sexiest homicidal Paint Pallette 💚🎨😈 since Caravaggio. (apparently green is the color of the digital apocalypse. i’m deleting Kako from my friend's list)

that’s it, fuck this app. 250 stones 💎 per-life-threatening-experience is more than i’m willing to deal with 😓 don’t wanna mess with the perfect nuclear family anyway. we've already got:

✔️the two emotionally traumatized moms with memory and commitment issues

✔️the adhd daughter with anger management problems and a giant hammer

✔️the psychologically abused scizophrenic cat

✔️and the eccentric aunt with crippling anxiety

#squadgoals

now that were done hoarding bitches, its time to hunt the witches. and the bitches makin the witches. btw did i mention the witches ARE the bitches! AND WERE ALL GOING TO DIE!? 📽️⁉️💀 wait fuck lets back up a second

This is Nemo📕 and Token🧪 and they have all the answers but prefer if you only ask vague questions in exchange for vague responses so they can fill in the rest by discussing their superior intellect 🧠 at length. not to mention they built that dating app, so of course everyone in my harem decides to be a FUCKING. TRAITOR.🤬

cept waifu prime ofc 🥰💙. [PTSD > brainwashing] 'yOu CaN bE tHe LeAdEr NoW'. i have been from the very beginning you traumatized Hinedere nightmare. maybe if you weren't so caught up collecting surrogate daughters you would've noticed IM👏THE👏ONLY👏 ONE👏PROGRESSING👏THE FUCKING👏PLOT✨

rescue the rest of dysfunctional found-family™ from selves before my adorable firebender burns down Disnihama🎡🔥😱 during her weekly anxiety attack. (love the makeover T B H)

CHAPTER 8: Magical Girl Massacre🩸🗡️

- everyone has like, the shittiest day ever

- the new Pope really needs to be extradited from the church

- make friends with a really pretty tree 🌺🌲✨

i swear, if i don't finish this god damn story in time to get that free pull im gonna beat the shit out of every mirror i find in that giant mansion that i haven't even had any time to even mention yet. 🖕🏚️ let alone EVERYTHING happening with the prequel [fuck you, I'm the star] girls 💗💜💙💛❤️️ and their multidimensional melodrama. We don't need that many repetitive af episodes to emphasize that Homo-ra is a shitty person. we've all seen Rebellion. 🙄

NO, I DONT CARE IF YOU WANT SAPPHO'S BACKSTORY, I ONLY HAVE 79 STONES LEFT AND IF YACHAN FINDS OUT I HAVEN'T DELETED THE APP YET IM GONNA HAVE TO GO SLEEP IN WITH SANA 😭💎💸😠

uhhhggggg where were we… Topple a cult and burn down Hotel Denoument only to realize that Sis was fused with the dating app servers this entire madokafuckin time (told ya she was the best wingman 😊).

Dilemma: Sis =🥚, Triumvirate of Trouble want 🐣. What do? vote now:

Help Hatch - IIIIIII

Not Do That - IIIII

What The Actual Fuck Is Going On - IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Lets just fight everyone until something good happens.

🔥🔫🔥🗡️🔥😱🔥🌆🔥😱🔥🛡️🔥💣🔥

Kill (???) the artist-in-chief of the italian reindeer murder police after teaching her the true meaning of Christmas 🎄 hatch 🐣lil Sis and realize she WAS your wingman all along🐰 MUKYUUUU! we're just gonna ignore how much trouble it would have saved if you'd just mentioned that. "yOu DiDnT aSk..."

FUCK YOU SPACE BITCH. ONCE AN INCUBATOR ALWAYS AN INCUBATOR 🖕🐇🔪

anywho, somewhere along the lines we of course summoned the Antichrist ⚙️ because why not raise the stakes to max and still not kill off a single character. Madofuckinkami, can we PLEASE wrap this up. 😩💤

feathers (not the culty kind, tfm) rain from the sky, and the power of friendship and not having the Urobutcher 🔪🩸as a lead writer saves our peacefully sectioned off alternate reality 😇

TL:DR fuck cults, real life waifus DO exist, don't sell your soul to space rabbits, or your stones to megacorporations. Enjoy arc 2 on the JP server with your shitty translation patch you filthy fuckin weebs

Yours Truly,

- Thirsty Weeb Eroha 💗💎😘

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screechthemighty · 4 years

Text

So, I’m writing this not to call out anyone in the Apex fandom specifically, because...honestly if anyone is doing the stuff i’m about to talk about, I haven’t seen it, so I wouldn’t even know who to call out in the first place. It’s more a Post About Some Thoughts I Have About Recent Things That Happened. So...here goes. Under a cut because of my Endless Need To Ramble.

I’m not necessarily opposed to redemption arcs for any character in this game...so long as the redemption arc involves actual redemption, and not just said character being nice to one or more characters.

There’s a nasty tendency, both in fandom and in the actual canon of a text, to assume that just because a character has been nice to another character, that’s shorthand for “this character is now good and should get audience forgiveness for everything bad they did.” To skip past subtweeting and go right to direct call-outs, Star Wars pulled this exact stunt by having Kyl0 R3n’s final act of saving Rey’s life be the thing that marks him as cleansed of his sins, so he can die in peace...all while completely ignoring the fact that he willingly aligned himself with a fascist dictatorship. That’s not actual redemption for any of the other, many bad things he did...that’s the START of a redemption arc at best. At worst, it means he just likes Rey and doesn’t want her to die but doesn’t actually care about the First Order’s many crimes that he was directly or indirectly complicit in. Either way, RoS was garbage and we can do better.

Redemption is not just “I’m nice to one person now, so that means I’m changed.” It means an active renouncement of ALL your bullshit, apologies where given, and actions that back up both of those things. See: Zuko from Avatar (the only good redemption arc in modern pop culture).

In my opinion, in order for, say, Caustic or Revenant to get a redemption arc (because I don’t want to just call out Caustic when Revenant is equally problematic), it would involve more than just them being nice to one or all of the Legends. Even if Caustic stops being emotionally manipulative towards Natalie, unless he also stops spewing eugenicist nonsense and treating anyone not up to his standards as a disposable lab rat, then he hasn’t really changed EXCEPT in his treatment of Natalie...which, it’s great that he stopped treating her like that, but it doesn’t solve the root of the problem (which is that he’s a eugenicist and that’s wrong). Similarly, even if Revenant starts to value the other legends and see them as equals, it wouldn’t mean anything unless he drops his whole “the skinsuits are dead” act and doesn’t go around murdering people...also apologizing to Loba, he really needs to do that.* Anything less isn’t a real redemption, and trying to act like it is would be just plain Bad Writing (not to mention like, low-key kind of offensive, because you’re basically saying “It’s okay if you hold deeply problematic view points and act on them so long as you’re nice to a few people. That ain’t it, my dude).

Now, the one problem with this on a practical standpoint is that this is a LOT of character development to expect from either of them, and games like Apex tend to rely on a status quo. I don’t know how feasible it is to ask for big, sweeping changes that would involve fundamental alterations to their personalities and worldviews. both of which influence how they are depicted in general gameplay. Counter-point, of course, is that because of the nature of the game, they could still lean into their old personalities as personas, which would mean that the big changes would mostly come in the lore itself without having to make too many changes to things like in-match voice lines (so long as the lore makes it clear that they’re just talking shit), but IDK how well that would work. Also so far the narrative structure is a bit rushed and spotty quality-wise, so even a redemption arc that checks all my boxes on paper might feel rushed and therefore unsatisfying. So...y’know, those are potential impediments.

That said, I do think it’s feasible, and at the very least I think anyone who is interested in writing a reformed Caustic or Revenant (or Bangalore, I didn’t call her out this time but she also needs a redemption arc real bad) can take this into account. Like, yeah, it’d be a lot of work, but on the other hand, it’s better than glossing over the actual problematic parts of their worldview and behavior and addressing things that are PART of the problem but aren’t...the actual problem. (Again not calling anyone out or saying that this is a prevalent problem among Caustic Stans, because I honestly don’t know if it is. Just sharing some thinky thought about this topic!)

Alternately, anyone who wants to keep writing both of them as a villains is free to do so. That’s very valid.

*Of note: Loba is under no obligation to accept Revenant’s apology until she’s ready, if she’s ever ready, and in fact, I’d be honestly kind of offended if she accepted his apology right off the bat. At BEST he’d have to work his ass off for her forgiveness.

#apex legends #discourse time kinda

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winchesterbrotherstan · 5 years

Text

Supernatural- Hell House (1.17)

ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ... ᴮᵃᴮʸ ,,, i’m SOFT

Pairing: N/A, Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: John’s gone, and the siblings are itching for a hunt. They call on the Richmonds for an extra hand. Sam and Dean start their own war, and Olive is left in the middle once more. Things are not what they seem.

Warnings: cursing, blood, bloody mouth, mentions of suicide, murder, gross old man flirting, etc

Word Count: 10,100

“What are you doing?” I asked Dean through a yawn.

I had fallen asleep on his arm the minute we hit the road, but now he was reaching for something, and it had woken me up. Jinx shuffled around in the backseat.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.” He kept his eyes on the road as he dug around in the backseat.

I let my eyes fall shut as I leaned back into his side. The Daeva had left a nasty gash on my thigh, one that we wouldn’t be able to explain to a doctor. Dean stitched me up, which was fine because I trusted him with my life, but it hurt like a bitch the whole time. Sam had to take Jinx out for a walk because she wouldn’t stop crying.

“Do you reach my phone?” Dean whispered.

I huffed as I dug through his jacket pocket and flipped his phone open. He took it, aimed it at Sam, and snapped a picture. I groaned at the noise and looked up to see Sam asleep with a plastic spoon hanging out of his mouth. Dean tossed his phone in my lap before blaring the music and singing along. Jinx let out a bark.

“De!” I whined, covering my ears.

I had been feeling weak and cranky for the last week. Sam shot up at my voice, or the thump of the bass, and spit the spoon out of his mouth. It landed on my knee and I swatted at it, letting it fall to the floor. Dean grinned as Sam leaned forward and turned the music down.

“Sorry, bug. Didn’t mean to spit it out on your knee.” He cooed as he put his arm up, inviting me to curl up against him.

I only grunted as I leaned over and pulled my feet up onto the seat, making a deliberate effort to hit Dean’s knee with my toes.

“Haha, very funny.” Sam glared at him.

He chuckled, ignoring my prodding. “Sorry. Not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man, we’re not kids anymore, Dean. We’re not gonna start this shit again.”

“What shit?” Dean asked.

“The prank stuff. It’s stupid, and it always escalates.”

“Aww, what’s the matter, Sammy? Scared you’re gonna get a little Nair in your shampoo again?” Dean teased.

“Alright.” Sam shrugged. “Just remember, you started it.”

Dean snorted. “Bring it on, baldy.”

“Please, no.” I fussed. “I always get caught in the middle of your stupid prank wars.”

“Swear we’ll leave Olive out of it.” Sam put a pinky up, and Dean side-eyed him.

“Do I look like I’m gonna pinky promise you anything?”

I shoved my pinky into his face, coming dangerously close to his eye.

“Fucking pinky promise to leave me out of it, you prick.”

Dean scoffed as he hooked his pinky around mine. “Fine, fine.”

“Where are we anyways?” Sam asked with a yawn.

“A few hours outside Richardson. We’ll stop in a bit to let Jinx use the bathroom. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean glanced between us and the road.

“Uh, hold on.” Sam took his arm back and sat up straight, digging through his bag. “Alright, about a month ago this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”

“Haunted by what?”

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit. Legend says it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters.” Sam explained.

“Right, which is why we called on the Richmonds. Hunter will be our temporary Olive.” Dean spoke, then faked a gag. “God, I hate the sound of that.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my seat. “Why can’t we just do this like any other job? Why’d we have to bring the Richmonds along?”

Dean eyed me. “Relax, short-stuff.”

“We’re not letting you walk into a death-trap, Ol.”

I snorted. “Oh, please, Sam. We’re hunters. You do realize we walk into death-traps for a living, right?”

Sam and Dean shared a look over my head. Dean said nothing, and Sam huffed.

“Anyways, this group of kids sees this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

“Anybody ID the corpse?”

“Well, that’s the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”

I yawned. “Maybe the cops are right. High school kids are fucking idiots.”

“Ollie, you are a high school kid.”

“No, I’m a hunter who happens to be high school kid aged. There’s a difference.”

“Either way, I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere.”

“Where’d you read these accounts?” Dean asked, skeptical.

Sam cleared his throat and looked out the window, his tell of embarrassment. I giggled. He must’ve gone onto some pretty stupid websites.

“Well, I knew we were gonna be passing through Texas, so um… last night, I might’ve surged some local… paranormal websites.” He pushed out quickly before clearing his throat again. “And I found one.”

“Uh huh.” Dean looked over with a face that read ‘that’s ridiculous!!’.

I snorted. “And what’s it called?”

“Hellhounds lair dot com.”

“Oh, lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom’s basement.”

Sam cracked a grin. “Yeah, probably.”

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “Most of those websites wouldn’t know a ghost if it bit them in the persqueeter.”

I giggled, and Sam groaned.

“Ah, grow up, Ol.”

“Oh, come on, Sams, it’s a funny word.”

Sam shook his head with a sigh. “Look. We let Dad take off, which was a mistake by the way, and know we don’t know where the hell he is. So, meantime, we’ve gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There’s no harm in checking this out.”

“Right, right, except that if Olive steps foot in the house she’ll probably die.”

I rolled my eyes again before turning to Sam. “Where do we find these kids?”

“Same place you always find kids in a town like this.”

***

“If she blocks me in, I swear to god.” Dean grumbled as Everett pulled in next to us.

She parked so close that Dean couldn’t open his door. He cursed under his breath, and Sam rolled his eyes as he opened the passenger door. I turned around and smiled at Jinx.

“We’ll be right back, girly.”

“Make sure you leave the windows down for her.” Sam reminded us.

“Alright, come on, De.” I tugged on his sleeve.

“Total bullshit.” He mumbled under his breath.

“I know, I know.” I climbed out through Sam’s side. “You coming?”

He let out a sigh as he climbed out, fixing his jacket.

“You really need to learn how to park, Winchester.”

“Bite me.” Dean spat.

“Alright, alright. Come on.” Sutton pulled her sister along.

Hunter stifled a yawn as he climbed out of their car, pulling a hoodie on.

“Nice dog.”

“Name’s Jinx.” I latched onto Sam’s hand and yawned, too.

“So how are we handling this?” Sutton asked.

“Reporters.” Dean called over his shoulder. “Come on.”

***

“It was the scariest thing I ever saw in my life, I swear to God.” The boy sitting outside tells Sam and Dean.

Dean tries hard not to roll his eyes. He focuses on Jinx instead, who had barked so loud they had to take her out of the car. The little dog is on her side, head on Dean’s shoe. He smiles as she looks up at him and wags her tail.

“From the moment we walked in, the walls were painted black.” The second boy speaks to Everett and Sutton through the serving window.

“Red.” The first boy says.

“I think it was blood!” The girl hisses at Hunter and Olive, who are sitting inside with her.

“All these freaky symbols.” The first boy shudders.

“Crosses and stars.” The boy at the serving window shakes his head.

“Pentecostals.” The boy outside says, and Sam and Dean share a look. Even Jinx tilts her head.

“Whatever, I had my eyes closed the whole time.” The girl smacks her gum.

“But I can damn sure tell you this much. No matter what anybody else says…”

“That poor girl.”

“With the black-”

“Blonde-”

“Red hair, just hanging there.”

“Kicking.”

“Without even moving!”

“She was real.” The girl reassures. Hunter and Olive sigh at each other.

“One hundred percent.” The boy nods at Dean vigorously.

“And kinda hot. Well, you know, in a dead sorta way.” The second boy smirks. Everett and Sutton look at each other, eyebrows shot up high.

“And… how’d you find out about this place anyway?” Sam, Sutton, and Olive ask.

“Craig.”

***

“Just stay separate.” Dean snapped at Everett.

“Relax, jackass.” I hissed as we stepped into the shop.

“Fellas.” The guy at the counter looked up. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Yeah, are you Craig Thursten?” Sam asked.

“I am.” He looked hesitant.

“We’re reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I’m Olive, this is Sam and Dean.” I smiled.

“No way.” He looked me up and down, and I cringed.

He was definitely Dean’s age, if not older. I could physically feel Dean struggling not to take a step forward and shove me behind him.

“Well, I’m a writer too. I write for my school’s lit magazine.”

“Well, good for you, Morrissey.” Dean hissed.

The bell rang, and I turned to see the Richmonds walking in.

“Oh, excuse me.” Craig sauntered to the edge of the counter, eyes honing in on Sutton.

Dean pulled me to stand between him and Sam.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Oh, no, we’re just looking. Thanks.” Hunter forced a smile as Everett glared, moving to stand in front of Sutton.

I smiled. She and Dean were more alike than they realized.

“So, what can I do for you folks?” Craig came back to us, again staring at me.

“Um.” Sam cleared his throat as Dean stepped ever-so-slightly in front of me. “We’re doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one.”

“You mean the Hell House?”

Dean sighed. “That’s the one.”

“I didn’t think there was anything to the story.” Craig chuckled.

“Why don’t you tell us the story?” I tilted my head.

“Well, supposedly back in the thirties, this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn’t have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that’s when he went off the deep end.”

Sam and I glanced at each other, and he turned back to Craig. “How so?”

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quickly, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop, but he just strung them up, one after the other. And when he was all done he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.” He eyed me again. “I’d steer clear if I were you, Ol.”

Dean’s nostrils flared and I shook my head. “Don’t call me that.”

“Where’d you hear all this?” Dean all but growled.

“My cousin Dana told me. I don’t know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I… I didn’t believe it for a second.”

“But now you do.”

“I don’t know what the hell to think, man. I, I’ll tell you exactly what I told the police, okay? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don’t wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”

Dean nodded, grabbing me by the shoulders and pulling me away from Craig. “Thanks.”

Hunter immediately went for me, taking me from Dean and throwing an arm around my shoulders. “What’d he tell you?”

I shivered. “Enough to know that it’s probably just a spirit. Simple salt and burn should work. Just have to find where he’s buried.”

Hunter looked over our shoulders at Craig and sighed. “He better not be caught up in this. And he better never look at you like that again.”

I snorted. “I can take care of myself, ya know.”

“I know.” He looked back at me. “And so does Dean. But just in case.”

***

“Can’t blame him.” Sam scoffed as we walked up the muddy road to the house.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal.” Dean snorted as Jinx tugged at her leash.

“Got an-”

“Yeah.” Sutton cut Everett off and pulled out an EMF reader.

“Come on, let’s circle the house.” Dean reached out a hand for me.

I giggled and took it, swinging our hands back and forth like a little kid. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress the smile growing on his face. Jinx yapped, pulling us around the house.

“Don’t laugh at me, kid.”

I giggled again. “Sorry. You’re just… so protective.”

He snorted. “You’re not allowed to turn this into a chick-flick moment.”

I smiled. “I love you too, De.”

He rolled his eyes again, this time with a huge grin on his face. “I love you too, sweetie.”

“Hey, De?” I swung our hands again.

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“Would you ever do that?”

“Do what?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

I looked up at him with puppy eyes. “Mercy kill me.”

He blinked, shocked. He stopped walking, and I had to stop with him. Jinx practically choked on her leash, confused as to why we weren’t still moving.

“Baby girl, I would never.”

A small smile grew onto my face. “Make me fight it out to the end?”

He grinned. “Yeah. Side by side, wouldn’t give you a choice.”

I squeezed his hand and started walking again. “Thanks, De. I wouldn’t mercy kill you either. Couldn’t stomach it.”

“Anything?” I asked Sam as he held the EMF out.

“Yeah. A little bit.” Sam squatted to scratch Jinx behind the ears.

“They won’t be any good.” Dean sighed.

“Why?” Sam and I looked up at him.

Dean nodded up at the powerlines. “I think that thing’s still got a little juice in it. It’s screwing all the readings.”

“Yeah, that’d do it.” I sighed.

“Yeah. Come on.” Dean tugged me back to the front of the house.

“So what’s the deal here?” Everett asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Sam sighed, and Sutton shrugged at him. Did middle children have a way of communicating with each other or something?

“You guys stay out here, make sure Olive sticks with you. Keep Jinx with you, too. We take Hunter in there and make sure we know what we’re dealing with.” Dean instructed as he walked me over to them, placing me between Everett and Sutton.

I sighed. “I still think this is stupid.” I took Jinx’s leash from Dean’s hand.

Dean smiled at me. “I still don’t care.”

“Alright, you ready?” Sam asked Hunter, hand on his shoulder.

I smiled. Sam was a big teddy bear.

“Yeah, I think so.” Hunter nodded as Dean gave him a rough pat on the back.

“Guys.” I called as they began to trudge up the steps.

All three boys turned back, Dean in attack stance and Sam with big puppy eyes. I ran up the steps and threw my arms around each brother’s waist. Jinx jumped around, pawing at the boys’ legs.

“I love you guys.” I whispered into Dean’s jacket.

They both sighed and hugged back.

“We love you too.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.” Sam kissed the top of my head before I backed away, stepping back down the steps.

“Hey, Winchester.” Everett growled.

Dean rolled his eyes. “What?”

“If my kid brother comes out of there with a single scratch-”

“Yeah, same goes for you. I want my baby back in mint condition.” Dean snarled at her.

Everett snorted. “Can’t give her back in mint condition if she’s already a disaster.” She mumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “Just go.”

The boys headed inside the house, flashlights up. I sat down on the curb with a sigh. Jinx snuggled onto my lap as Sutton sat down next to me.

“You alright?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t like the idea of my boys going in there without me.”

She nodded. “I know. I wasn’t too sold on Hunter going alone, but I know he’s in good hands with Sam and Dean.”

I snorted. “Look, I love Hunter, but I don’t trust him to keep my brothers safe.”

She nodded again. “I get that, too.

I closed my eyes with a huff. Jinx let out a small bark. A floorboard creaked, and I shot to my feet, confused.

“Olive? What is it?”

Another floorboard, and then a giggle. It wasn’t Sam’s, it wasn’t Hunter’s, and it most definitely was not Dean’s. Something that sounded like an EMF meter went off, and I turned to the house. Jinx started to go crazy, barking like there was no tomorrow. A bark turned into a growl.

“Shit.”

“Olive?” Everett waved her hand in front of my face.

“There’s someone else in there.” I tore past the siblings and up the steps.

“Dean?” I hissed, blinking to adjust to the dark.

They didn’t answer, but the same floorboards creaked. I cursed under my breath and went down the hallway. I heard Jinx howl from outside.

“Olive.” Dean hissed, and it came out like a strangled bark.

“What the-”

“Shh.” I cut them off, holding a hand up.

Something in the next room thumped, and the boys looked at each other wide eyes. Hunter went for my wrist, and I pulled away from him, standing in front of the door with my shoulders squared. Sam and Dean looked at each other, and Dean sighed. He looked at me. I nodded, and so did Hunter. Dean busted through the door, and a bright light hit our eyes.

Danger.

Blood began to drip from my mouth, a drop landing on my shoe. I bared my teeth.

“Oh, cut! It’s just a couple of humans.”

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I threw my head back with a growling scoff. Dean snorted, looking at me over his shoulder. Two guys were standing in front of us, one holding a camera, and the other holding… an EMF meter?

“What are you guys going here?” The one with the EMF meter asked.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean hissed.

“Uh, we belong here. We’re professionals.” EMF meter laughed.

“Professional what?” I asked through gritted teeth, swallowing blood.

“Paranormal investigators.” EMF shoved business cards into Sam and Hunter’s hands.

He tried to give one to Dean, but my older brother only stared with arched eyebrows. He turned to me, and I shook my head, trying to ignore the blood that had made its way down my chin.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dean groaned.

“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler?” Sam read off the card.

“Hellhounds Lair dot come.” Hunter sighed. “You guys run that website.”

“Yeah.” EMF grinned.

“Oh, yeah, yeah.” Dean nodded. “We’re big fans.”

I closed my eyes, trying to hold back an annoyed laugh.

“And uh, we know who you guys are too.”

My blood ran cold and St. Louis ran through my head.

Dean.

My mouth began to bleed again, and my eyes began to water.

“Yeah?”

“Amateurs.” EMF scoffed, and I suddenly felt lightheaded.

Dean watched me go pale and came to my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him with a sigh, and a second stream of blood went down my skin. Dean sighed and wiped at it with the sleeve of his flannel.

“You alright?”

I nodded. He gave my arm a squeeze and gestured to Hunter.

“Keep her standing.” He whispered as he handed me off and turned back to EMF and camera boy.

“Gonna be okay?” Hunter asked in a hushed tone.

I nodded again. “I think so. Just a lot of back and forth.”

“St. Louis?” He asked.

I took a breath, closing my eyes. “Yeah.”

“So if you guys don’t mind, we’re trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here.”

“Yeah, and whatcha got?”

“Harry, why don’t ya tell them about EMF?” Idiot One grinned.

I leaned my head back into Hunter’s shoulder and groaned.

“Well…”

“EMF?”

I smiled, knowing Sam was playing dumb and knowing he was biting back a grin.

“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Ed flicked the EMF meter on.

Dean turned to me with a shit-eating grin, and I turned my face into Hunter’s neck, struggling not to snort.

“Whoa, whoa! It’s 2.8 mg!”

“2.8. It’s hot in here.”

Dean let out a low whistle, and Sam mumbled something.

“Huh.” Dean huffed. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…”

“Once. We were, uh, we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table.”

“By itself.”

“Well, w-w-w-we didn’t actually see it, we heard it. And something like that, it uh… it changes you.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded, a serious look on his freckled face. “We should go, let them get back to work.” He looked over his shoulder at me.

I nodded, feeling sick.

“Yeah. You should.” Ed snipped.

“Sam. Hunter, Olive.” Dean ushered us out the door.

“Yeah, work!” Ed called after us as we made our way down the hallway.

“Why did you run in?”

“Why didn’t you bring a shotgun?”

“Are you gonna stop bleeding any time soon?”

I giggled at Hunter, but Dean cut me short, grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

“De!” I squealed, hitting his back.

He dropped me in front of the steps of the house and glared at me.

“Why the hell did you come inside?”

I sighed, shoulders dropping. “I heard something.”

Sutton and Everett ran up, Jinx on their heels. She yapped, jumping at the boys.

“I’m so sorry! We tried to stop her!”

“I told you-”

“Stop.” I cut Dean off as he went for Everett’s throat. “Stop, I ran out.”

“Why?” Dean barked at me.

I shrunk back with a flinch, and Sam pulled him back. Hunter grabbed his sisters and dragged them away. Jinx sat at our feet with a whine.

“I could hear them moving inside the house.” I whispered.

“What?” Sam tilted my head.

“I could hear them. The floorboards, EMF’s giggle. The EMF meter itself. I could hear them from the curb, De.”

He sighed. “Okay.”

Sam sighed too. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I was just worried. I wasn’t sure what it was.” I pouted, my head feeling tingly.

They sighed, and Dean brought me into a hug. “I know. It’s okay. Just try to take care of yourself too, baby.”

I nodded, letting my head drop against his chest. “Okay.”

“Go to sleep, Sammy’s got ya.” He gave me a squeeze.

I nodded again. Sam picked me up by the waist and set me on his hip. I yawned and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Love you.”

Sam chuckled. “Love you too, bug.”

***

“Hey.” Sam sauntered down the steps.

“Hey!” I called Dean as he met us halfway.

“Whatcha got?” He asked.

“Well, we couldn’t find a Mordechai but we did find a Martin Murdoch who lived in that house in the thirties.” Dean let go of Jinx’s leash, and she came running.

“He did have kids, but it was two boys. And there’s no evidence he ever killed anyone.” Sutton finished as Sam picked Jinx up.

“Huh.” Dean huffed.

“What about you?” Hunter asked.

Everett turned back to the cars, and we followed her.

“Well, the kids didn’t really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station.” Dean sighed.

“No matching missing persons. It’s like she never existed.” Everett shook her head.

“Look guys. We did our digging. This whole thing’s a bust. For all we know, those website freaks made this whole thing up.”

“Yeah, he’s got a point.” Sutton put her hands on her hips.

“Alright. We can split then, I guess.” I shrugged.

Everett grinned. “I’m fine with that. Let’s go!”

“I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals.” Dean winked.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me away from Dean as he made his way to the car. He held Jinx to his chest with the other arm, tucking her under his jacket.

“Wh-”

“Shh.” Sam whispered.

I waved to Hunter and Sutton as Everett started their car. Dean got into the car, and Sam pulled me toward the window with a smile. Dean turned the key, and latino music began to blast. Dean hit the radio, but the wipers began to go off instead. He tore the key out with a jump. Jinx barked, scared.

“What the fuck?”

Sam giggled as he held the door open. I stared with wide eyes as I climbed into the car. Sam licked his finger and marked a ‘one’ in the air before pointing to himself. He got into the car and I inched closer to Dean, still a bit startled. Jinx circled between me and Sam before laying down, and I stared at him. I thought for sure that Sam knew better than to mess with Dean’s car.

“That’s all you’ve got?” Dean gave him a dirty look. “Weak. That is bush league.”

I curled my arms around one of Dean’s.

“Can we go home now?”

He smiled down at me. “Of course we can, sweetpea.”

***

“Hello?” I asked as I flicked my phone open.

Sam and Dean had left me sleeping in the motel room while they went to a diner to pick up dinner. Jinx was asleep at the feet of Sam’s bed. She loved him the most.

“Olive, have the Richmonds left town yet?”

“No. I just got off the phone with Hunter. Everett is asleep and Sutton went out to get them dinner. I thought maybe you guys would run into her.”

“Well, we haven’t. Look, call him back. We missed something. We’ll call Sutton, tell her to meet us back at the Hell House.”

“Okay… De, what happened?”

He sighed. “A girl’s dead.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. We saw her. It was real.”

I sighed again. “Does this mean I’ll have to hold onto your belt loop the whole time?”

He snorted. “You bet your ass it does.”

I scoffed. “Okay. Love you guys. Be careful.”

“Always. You too. Love you.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.” Dean made an obnoxious kissing noise before hanging up.

I sighed as I dialed Hunter’s number again. I put the phone between my ear and shoulder as I got off the bed.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Hunt.” I sighed and dug through our communal bag.

I had already changed into my pj’s and shoved my clothing into the duffel.

“What’s up?”

“Look, Sam and Dean said we must’ve missed something. Dean wants you guys to meet us at the Hell House.”

Hunter sighed. “What happened?”

“A girl’s dead, and he sounded agitated.” I put him on speaker and tossed the phone aside.

“Alright. Everett is still out, she’s probably hungover. But I’ll wake her up and make sure she gets ready.”

“Make sure she doesn’t cut your head off.” I tugged off Dad’s old sweater and yanked on a black shirt.

“Haha, very funny. Are those website guys still suspects?”

I pulled on leggings and snorted. “I kinda hope so. I’d love nothing more than to cut EMF freak in two.”

“I still can’t believe you barged right in there without a gun. I’m surprised Dean didn’t shoot you on the spot.”

“Oh, shove it.” I laced my boots up. “Dean loves me. Would never shoot me.”

He snorted this time. “Yeah. Right, sure. Alright, I’ll let you go. I’ve gotta wake Everett up.”

I giggled. “Good luck. See ya.”

“Bye, Ol.”

***

I shushed Hunter as we crouched in the bushes.

“I guess the cops don’t want anyone else screwing around in there.” Sam whispered.

There was a cop car parked on the curb, and they were standing around the porch.

“Yeah, but we still gotta get in there.” Dean sighed.

Somebody else whispered, and I turned to glare at Everett. She wasn’t talking. I looked around, slowly edging out of our hiding spot. Jinx would’ve barked, so we left her at the motel. Lucky for us, she was still sleeping when Sam and Dean picked me up.

“I don’t fucking believe it.” Hunter growled.

“What?” I looked at him, and he helped me move forward without being seen.

The two idiots from earlier. Hunched over, wearing stupid gadgets, whispering and shushing each other. I inhaled to let out a snort, and a hand clapped over my mouth. I looked down to see that it was Dean’s hand, and I licked him. He flinched, pulling me back to sit.

“Ohh, De.” I turned to him with a huge smile. “I got an idea.”

He smiled. “Go ahead.”

I shuffled to rest on my knees. I cleared my throat before cupping my hands to my mouth.

“Who ya gonna call!”

Idiot One and Idiot Two stumbled, confused. The cops spotted them, and began shouting orders. The idiots ran back the way they came, and the cops followed.

Everett chuckled. “Nice move, Winchester.”

I grinned as Sam pulled me onto my feet. We followed Dean up the sidewalk and into the house. We were laughing, and I let out a snort.

“Alright, alright.” Sam tried to quiet us down.

“Everyone settle.” Sutton smiled.

“Okay.” Sam swung the duffel bag off his shoulder and onto the floor. “Olive.” He handed out rifles as he did a head count.

Dean was next to get a rifle, then Sutton. Hunter, and Everett last.

“Where have I seen this before?” Dean shone his flashlight at the walls. “It’s killing me.”

“Alright, come on. We don’t have much time.” Sam called.

He led the way down to the basement. Him first, then Dean, and me, of course, stuck behind Dean. Hunter, then Sutton, and then Everett.

“Oh, look at that. That’s funky.” Hunter pointed at a shelf full of jars.

“Oh, nice.” I strayed from the group and went straight for them.

Dean followed, picking up a red one. He sloshed it around and turned with a grin.

“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this.”

“What the hell would I do that for?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

I grinned up at Dean, and he mirrored it.

“I double dare you.”

Sam shook his head with a snort. I looked through the jars, seeing one that looked like it had an eyeball in it. I pushed it away with a groan of disgust. Hunter laughed from beside me, and something thumped in the cabinet in the corner. Hunter stood in front of me and clutched his rifle. Sutton positioned herself behind Sam, and Everett behind Dean. Dean and Sutton’s rifles went up as Everett’s flashlight turned on. Hunter squared his shoulders and glanced at me. I stood on my toes, resting my head against his shoulder. Dean nodded, and Sam yanked the door open.

A few rats squeaked and ran away from the light. Dean groaned and lifted his feet.

“I hate rats.”

“What, you’d rather it was a ghost?” I giggled.

“Yes, actually.” Dean squinted at me.

I dug my fingers into Hunter’s arm as a figure appeared behind Sam.

“Ev!”

“Sams!”

The four older hunters turned around. I shoved Hunter out of the way and cocked my rifle. Mordechai rose an axe above his head, aiming at Sam.

“Duck.” I ordered before taking my shot.

Nothing happened, and I shot him again. Someone else shot at him, and he finally misted away.

“What the fucking hell?” I hissed, running to Dean.

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and looked around.

“What kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam asked as we moved.

Dean and I ducked behind the shelves of jars, confused. I looked around, trying to figure out what was going on.

“I dunno, but we should get outta here right now.” Everett grabbed Hunter by the wrist and yanked him toward the door.

Mordechai came back, and his axe came down on the shelves. The jars shattered at our feet, and one hit my head.

I crawled out from under the metal as the Richmonds pulled the shelf up.

“Fuck.” I hissed, hand going to the back of my head.

“Go!” Sam shouted as he took on Mordechai. “Get out of here!”

“Hey, cunt!” I screamed, waving my arms and aiming my rifle.

Mordechai turned to me, and I felt my chest clench. He swung at me, and I ducked and rolled. Sam plucked me off the ground as the axe slammed an electrical box. Sparks flew everywhere, and Sam tossed me over his shoulder.

Everett led the way up the stairs, and Sam and I brought up the rear. I yelped as we ran through the hall and out onto the porch. Sutton fell first, and it was a domino effect. I ended up on top of Sam, legs caught under Hunter.

“Ow!” I howled.

My arm cracked as I shifted, and I felt my bones throb.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted, trying to untangle himself from the mess.

Hunter rolled off of us and helped me to my feet. I yanked at Sam, then at Dean. Dean grabbed my arm, and I yanked away with a yelp. Idiot One and Idiot Two were standing there, camera on us.

“Get that fucking thing outta my face.” Dean smacked them away.

“Go, go, go!” Sam shouted.

“Sweet Lord!”

“Of the rings! Run! Go!”

“Come on.” Hunter grabbed my hand and yanked me along with him.

***

“Hey, baby girl.” Dean shot up from the bed as I opened the door.

“Hi, Deano.” I smiled.

“How you feeling?” Sam looked up from his laptop.

I shrugged a shoulder. “Fine. Hurting, but fine.”

Sutton sat down next to Sam as Everett shut the door. “She’s gotta take these for the pain, and the cast has to be changed in a month, maybe two. You’re gonna have to be on top of her doctor’s appointments, because Dean’ll forget.”

“Hey!” Dean scoffed. “I would never forget about my baby’s health.” He turned to me. “C’mere.”

I sat down next to him with a huff. Jinx padded over to my side and gave me sad eyes.

“My arm is itchy.”

He laughed. “Sorry, Babes.”

“Can you sign it?” I looked up at him with puppy eyes.

He smiled and nodded. I pulled out a sharpie and handed it to him. He threaded his fingers through mine and signed his name onto the plaster.

Dean Michael Winchester, written in ugly, scratchy handwriting. Below that, Olive, my baby. I love you so much. Sorry your arm broke 🖤🖤

“So, what’ve we got?” Hunter asked, sitting on the couch.

“Not much.” Sam scratched the back of his neck. “Haven’t really started.”

Everett scoffed, and Sutton shot her a look.

“We were worried about Olive!” Sam defended himself.

“What the hell is this symbol?” Dean groaned, picking up a pad of paper from his side. “It’s buggin’ the hell out of me. This whole damn job’s buggin’ me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks.”

“It does.” Sam snorted.

I pulled out my laptop and started it up. I stood and stretched, groaning at the dull pain in my arm.

“Alright. Well, I mean that explains why he went after Olive, and you. But why me?” Dean leaned back.

“Hilarious.” Sam rolled his eyes. “The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those wrists?”

“Yeah.”

“What about them?” I asked as I got onto the Idiot2 website.

“They were slit.” Sam threw his head back with a groan.

“That doesn’t make sense.” I scrunched my nose up and settled next to Hunter.

“The axe doesn’t either, actually.” He noted, throwing an arm over my shoulders.

“I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over again.” Sam sighed.

I made a grabby hand at him, and he moved to sit on my other side.

“But this mook keeps changing.” Dean scoffed.

I got onto the and refreshed the page on Mordechai Murdoch. “Okay, the story definitely said… wait a minute.” I blinked. “What the fuck?” I asked, turning my laptop to Sam.

“What?”

“Read.” I pointed.

Dean looked up at me with an eyebrow raised.

“Someone added a new post to their site. Read it out loud, Sams.

“They say Mordechai Murdoch was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he’s imprisoned in the house for eternity.” Sam squinted.

“What the hell?” Everett tilted her head.

“I don’t know. But I think I might’ve just figured out where it all started.” Dean tossed aside the pad of paper.

***

“Hey, Craig. Remember us?” Dean asked as we sauntered into the shop.

He looked up with a sigh. He looked depressed. The Richmonds followed us in.

“Guys, look. I’m not really in the mood to answer any of your questions, okay?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Dean waved him off. “We’re just here to buy an album, that’s all.”

He flicked through a stack and picked one out. I eyed it and looked up at him with a smile.

He was a genius.

He slung an arm around my shoulders and walked us toward the counter. “You know, I couldn’t quite figure out what the symbol was, and then I realized that it didn’t mean anything. It’s the Blue Öyster Cult logo.” He turned to Craig. “Tell me, Craig. You uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people?”

“Why don’t you tell us about the house again?” I narrowed my eyes.

“Without lying through your ass this time.” Dean pulled a bitchface.

Craig sighed. “Alright, uh… my cousin Dana was on break from TCU. We were just bored, looking for something to do…” He sighed. “So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be cool to make it look like it was haunted.”

Hunter snorted from behind me.

“So we painted symbols on the walls, some from albums, from Dana’s theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdoch used to live there, so we… we made up some story to go along with that. So we told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own.”

Sutton squinted, and Everett mumbled something to her.

“I mean, I thought it was fun at first, but… now that girl is dead, and… it was just a joke! Ya know, I mean… none of it was real. We made this whole thing up. I swear!”

“Alright.” Sam spoke softly.

“Okay.” Everett pulled Sutton and Hunter along.

I sighed and looked up at Sam. “If none of it was real, how the hell do you explain Mordechai?”

Sam looked at me and shook his head. “I dunno.”

***

“Wake up, pumpkin.” Dean’s voice broke me out of my sleep as he rested a hand on my hip.

I groaned as I rolled over onto my back. “What?”

“Hey, I’m back.” He called out to Sam, who was in the shower.

“Hey, where were you?” Sam asked as the water turned off.

“Picking up orange juice for Ollie.” Dean winked at me as he sat down next to me.

I yawned as I sat up. I smiled at him and threw my arm around his neck. He laughed and hugged me back, pressing a kiss to my head.

“Thanks, De. I fucking love orange juice.”

He chuckled. “I know.”

“So Ollie might have a theory about what’s going on.” Sam called out.

“Yeah?”

“She still asleep?”

“Just woke her up.” Dean brushed my hair back.

“Yeah, what is Mordechai is a Tulpa?” I asked.

“Tulpa?” Dean repeated.

The door opened and Sam came out, hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist. I closed my eyes with a scowl on my face. Dean turned too, a bit grossed out. Jinx tilted her head at us, and I giggled. She was like a little human, only confused all the time.

“Put on some clothes.”

Sam picked up a pillow and threw it at me. It hit my juice and I pouted as it spilled over.

“Dean!” I whined, throwing my head back against the wall.

He took the cup and grabbed a few tissues, wiping the juice off my hand. “Sorry, Babes. Sam, don’t be a dick.”

“Just… Tulpa.” I hissed at Sam.

“Yeah, a Tibetan thought form.”

“Ah, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey Sam, why don’t you get dressed. I wanna grab something to eat. I gotta take a leak.”

I laid back down and pulled the blanket over my head. “Wake me up when we’re ready to go.”

***

“There you go.” The server put six coffees on the counter.

“Thank you.” Dean and I smiled as we took the cups and walked back to Sam and the Richmonds.

Sam was grimacing and trying to fix his pants. I cringed, and Dean eyed him.

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Sam brushed him off.

“You sure?” I asked as I sat down next to him.

“Yeah.”

“Alright, keep going.” Dean took a seat. “So, these Tulpas?”

Sutton looked up and sighed. She took her coffee and yawned. Hunter leaned forward on his elbows and yawned. Everett put her head in her hands.

“Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.” Sam glanced at his computer.

“So?” Everett raised an eyebrow.

“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do.” Sutton scowled at her sister.

“She’s right. Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.”

“Okay, wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he’s real?” Dean’s nose scrunched up.

“I dunno, maybe.” Sam shuffled again.

“People believe in Santa Claus… how come we aren’t getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Because, Dean, you’re a horrible person. And because of this.” Sutton turned Sam’s laptop toward us.

One of the symbols from the Hell House was on his screen.

“Lemme guess, that’s the Tibetan spirit sigil?” Hunter asked.

“On the wall of the house?” I added.

“Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass.”

“So people are on the Hellhounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.” I shrugged.

“Would explain why he keeps changing.” Dean sighed.

Sam shuffled again. “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things. So Mordechai changes.”

“Like a game of telephone.”

“That would also explain why the rock salt didn’t work.” I sighed.

“Because he’s not a traditional spirit.” Dean frowned.

“Yeah.” Sam fidgeted again.

“Okay. So why can’t we just, uh…” Everett pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get this spirit sigil thing off the wall and off the website?”

“Well, it’s not that simple.” Sutton shook her head. “You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form…” Dean scowled. “How the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

Sam began to move again.. “Well it’s not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.” He nodded toward Sutton.

Sutton hit something on his laptop and a video started to play. I groaned. It was the footage from last night. The Richmonds crashed down the stairs, followed by a crumbling Dean, and Sam. Me, crashing to the ground, Hunter over my feet, me shouting as my arm snapped.

“Since they’ve posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

I tensed. “De, if anyone recognizes you…” I sighed. “We’re screwed.”

“Hmph.” Dean’s lip curled up. “I got an idea. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Sutton asked as Dean stood.

“We gotta find a CopyJack.”

I got off my stool with a yawn. Hunter followed, and Sam wiggled as he got to his feet. He grumbled something to Dean, and Dean only laughed. Sutton and Everett looked over their shoulders, confused.

“You did this?” Sam asked.

Dean only laughed harder.

“You’re a fucking jerk.” Sam hissed at him.

“Oh, yeah.” Dean grinned.

I rolled my eyes. Sam and Dean went for me at the same time, and I ducked away, pacing myself with Hunter. Sam blinked sadly, and Dean stuck his tongue out at me. I stuck mine out back.

“Brat.”

“Prick.”

***

Dean pounded his fist on the door of the trailer.

“Who is it?” Idiot Two asked.

“Come on out, guys. We can hear you in there.”

Jinx let out a little growl, and I bit back a smile.

“It’s them!”

The door opened and they stuck their heads out.

“Ah, would you look at that. Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.” Dean snorted.

“Guys, we need to talk.” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, um… sorry guys. We’re ahh, a little busy right now.” Idiot One shuffled.

I slammed my hand against the door as he tried to shut it. “Okay, well we’ll make it quick. You need to shut down the website.”

“Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…” He laughed.

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people! And I get stage fright.”

“Why should we trust you guys?”

“Look, guys. We all know what we saw last night, what’s in the house.” Everett crossed her arms over her chest.

“But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.” Sutton rested all her weight on one hip.

“That’s right, which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person.” Hunter dead-panned.

“Somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Ed, maybe he’s got a point. Maybe…”

“Nope.” Idiot One shook his head. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

“Ev, Ev, hey, hey, hey, just forget it, alright.” Sutton pulled her back. “These guys…” She sighed dramatically. “Probably bitch slap them both, we could even tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna help us.”

“Sutton’s right. Let’s just go.” I sighed, readjusting my grip on Jinx’s leash.

“Yeah, he’s right.” Dean sighed as we began to walk away.

“What’d you say about…”

“Hang on a second here.”

“What thing about Mordechai?”

“Don’t tell em, Sutton.” Hunter begged.

“But if they agree to shut down the website, guys…” Sutton trailed off.

“They’re not gonna do it, you said so yourself.” Dean sighed.

“No, wait. Wait. Don’t listen to him, okay? We’ll do it. We’ll do it.” Idiot One stepped out of the trailer.

“Look, it’s a really big deal, alright? And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you’ll shut it all down.” Sutton leaned in.

“Totally.”

“Alright.” Sutton nodded at Dean.

He pulled a few papers from his jacket.

“It’s a death certificate. From the thirties. We got it at the library. Now, according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“That’s right. He didn’t hang or cut himself.” Dean added.

“He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he’s terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds-”

“It’ll kill the son of a bitch.” Dean cut me off.

Idiot One snatched the paper, and Idiot Two smiled.

“Alright, we should head out.” Hunter grabbed me by the wrist and tugged me away.

Sam and Dean followed. Everett spat on the step of the trailer, and Sutton smacked the back of her head before walking away.

***

Hunter: be safe. sorry we had to abandon you guys

I smiled as I typed back a response.

Olive: we always do great without you guys anyways. just don’t get yourself killed

Hunter: will do

The Richmonds had left town. A case that seemed like werewolves had popped up in Oklahoma, and we were the closest hunters around. Dean was determined to take Mordechai down, so Everett decided they’d peel out. I yawned as I leaned against Dean. He wrapped an arm around me as he reached up. I watched as he pulled the cord on a mechanical fisherman holding a large fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved and an obnoxious laugh played. Sam yanked on the cord, and the laugh stopped.

“If you pull that string one more time I’m gonna kill you.” Sam promised.

We had been sitting in the cafe for the last two hours, and Dean had pulled the cord so many times that I would have nightmares about the laugh. Dean blinked, deadpan. He maintained eye contact with Sam as he pulled the cord again. Sam’s hand immediately went back up and he stopped it. He glared at Dean. I yawned again, this time snuggling further into Dean’s side. I wanted to go back to the motel, take Jinx for her nightly walk, and go to bed.

Dean snickered. “Come on, man. You need some more laughter in your life. You know, you’re way too tense.”

Sam only gave Dean another dirty look. Dean sighed, and I huffed.

“They post it yet?”

Sam spun his laptop around to us and began to stab at his salad, angry.

“We’ve learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdoch has a fatal fear of firearms.” Dean read off the scream.

“Alright, so how long do we wait?” I asked.

“Long enough for the story to spread and the legend to change.” Sam spoke with a hand over his mouth. “I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam swallowed and reached for his beer.

I grinned and grabbed my glass of juice. Dean lifted his own and the three of us tapped our drinks together.

“Sweet.” Dean grinned before taking a long chug.

A smirk grew on Sam’s face and I shrunk into Dean’s side. He was up to something. Dean put his bottle down, but it stuck to his palm. My eyes widened as Sam broke into a cackle and Dean stared at his bottle, confused.

He looked up at Sam. “You didn’t.”

Sam laughed harder and held up a bottle of super glue. “Oh, I did!”

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam wheezed.

“Oh my god, you’re both fucking pricks!” I hissed, pulling away from Dean. “Why do you always have to go so far?”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“Because now I’ll have to rip that bottle off of his hand!” I groaned.

“Ollie, it’s okay.” Dean held his other hand out.

I scowled, smacking it away. “Get up. There’s some acetone in the car.”

Dean sighed. “Okay.”

***

“Okay, come on.” Dean shut the trunk and led us up the porch steps.

He cleared his throat, and I put my back to his. I was left without a flashlight. A gun with one hand was risky, but I was a good shot, and Dean wanted me to be able to protect myself. We started with the hallway. Dean readjusted his gun with a hiss.

“I barely have any skin left on my palm.” He groaned.

“I’m not touching that line with a ten foot pole.” Sam snipped back.

Dean stopped us in our tracks and shone his light in Sam’s face. Sam winced and turned away. Dean, satisfied, moved into another room.

“So. You think old Mordechai’s home?” He whispered.

“I dunno.”

“Me either.”

The three of us jumped, guns pointing at the noise. I scowled. Idiot One and Idiot Two.

“You fuckers.” I growled.

“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” Sam hissed.

“We’re just trying to get a book and movie deal, okay?” Idiot One whined.

A sound like knives being sharpened came from the basement, and I cringed as I readjusted my grip on my gun.

“Oh, crap.”

Sam and Dean shot them identical looks as they crowded us, camera on.

“Ah… you guys, you wanna… you wanna open that door for us?” Idiot One asked.

“Why don’t you?” Dean spat over his shoulder.

Mordechai burst through the door with the same axe from before. He let out an other-wordly shout, and I shot first. Sam and Dean shot over my shoulders, shooting until they were out of rounds. Mordechai stared at us, and then disappeared again. My chest clenched as we waited. He was gone. Dean stood in front of me and nodded for us to follow him into the next room

There was a thud in the next room, and my phone began to buzz in my pocket. I flicked it open, seeing that it was Hunter.

“What?” I hissed as Sam put his back to mine and Dean ran back to the idiots.

“Their server crashed.”

“What?” I repeated.

“Their server crashed! Nobody got the story. Guns won’t do shit! You guys gotta get outta there!”

I blinked, then grabbed Sam.

“Dean!” I shouted. “Guns won’t work!”

“Great.” He growled as we ran back into the room.

“Any ideas?” I asked Sam.

“We are getting outta here.” One of the idiots grabbed the other as they broke into a run.

They pushed past Dean into the other room. We paused as they screamed. They ran back to the front, trying to get the door open.

“Jesus Mary and Joseph!”

Mordechai came after them, and Idiot One began to scream.

“Hey!” Sam called. “Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch!”

Mordechai attacked Sam, pinning his axe against his neck.

“Get out of here, now!” He ordered.

Danger.

“Sammy!”

“Come on!” Dean grabbed me by the hand and yanked me along. “We gotta burn the place down!”

“But Sam!”

“Ol-”

“Sammy.” I whined.

“Ollie.” Dean grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. “Sam’s in danger, you’re scared.”

I nodded. “Sam.”

“Use that. Get that door open, get to the car, get kerosene.”

I shut my eyes and heard Sam yelp. My teeth began to ache, and I spit blood out. Dean turned me by the shoulders and gave me a squeeze. I let out a grunt as I kicked the door. It didn’t move. Sam yelled again, and I let out a scream as I went at it with my shoulder. It splintered off its hinges.

Jinx was going mad in the backseat of the car, circling and barking and growling. She saw me coming and stuck her head out the window, letting out a howl.

I went for the car, was careful to flip open the trunk, and yanked out the gallon of kerosene. I ran back into the house, and Dean took the container away from me, pouring it on every possible surface. My mouth was throbbing, and I heard Sam from the next room.

“Dean! Olive!”

“Hey!”

I turned to see the Richmonds running up the steps, spray cans in hand. Hunter tossed me one. I grunted as I tore off my sling and went through my pockets. I flicked on my lighter, letting the flame catch. I threw the can onto the floor and went for Sam. A growl ripped through my throat, and Mordechai disappeared. Sam fell.

“Come on!” I pulled him off the floor.

Dean helped me get him to his feet. Sam grabbed his throat and coughed.

“What are we doing?”

“Improvising.” Sutton grabbed Sam’s arm and tugged it over her shoulders.

Everett flicked her lighter on and threw it into the other room. Flames went up, and Sutton helped Dean yank Sam out of the house. I hissed as someone bumped into my arm. Hunter dragged me out of the house, and Everett was the last to follow us out.

“This is your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” She scowled at Dean.

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look. Mordechai can’t haunt a house if there’s no house to haunt.” He huffed. “It’s fast and dirty but it works.”

I sat down on the front lawn and groaned, holding my arm. Hunter took his flannel off and fashioned a sling out of it. I was too tired to try and stop him.

“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean sighed.

“Then we’ll just have to come back.” I spoke through a mouthful of blood.

Sam plucked me off the ground and set me on his hip with a sigh. I hissed, spitting over his shoulder.

“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just ‘cause people believed in them. Right, bug?” Sam asked.

I nodded. Dean helped me control it inside. Pushing me in the right direction, telling me what to do. It helped. Sam would keep me awake afterwards. It was draining, and I was so tired, but I needed to be ready for the day my brothers wouldn’t be there to carry me to the car right afterwards.

“You guys came back.” I whispered, staring at Hunter.

He smiled, and Sutton sighed. Everett only rolled her eyes.

“You guys would’ve done the same for us.”

Dean snorted as he pulled out the car keys. “Like hell we would’ve.”

I sniffled. “Can we go now? My arm hurts.”

Sam grinned as he gave me a squeeze. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

***

“Why are we here?” I asked with a yawn.

Jinx circled at Sam’s feet before finally laying down in the shade of the picnic table. Dean grinned as Idiot One and Idiot Two came along with arms full of grocery bags.

“Gentlemen. Lady.” Idiot One nodded his head at us.

“Hey, guys.” Sam smiled.

I couldn’t help but grin. He was so polite. Such a sweetheart. A big teddy bear. I blinked. My pain meds were making me loopy.

“Should we tell them?”

“Hey, might as well. You know, they’re gonna read about it in the trades.” Idiot One scoffed.

“So this morning, we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

I smiled, leaning into Dean’s side. “Oh yeah, wrong number?”

“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.” Idiot One spoke as they loaded the groceries into their car.

“And create the RPG.”

Dean blinked. “The what?”

“Role playing game.”

“Right.” Dean nodded, lips pursed.

“A little lingo for you.”

“Anyhoo, excuse us. We’re off to lala land.”

“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great.” Sam smiled.

“Yeah. That’s awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh, yeah. Luck. That has nothing to do with it. It’s about talent. Sheer, unabashed talent.”

We looked around at each other and nodded. Idiot One threw up a peace sign.

“Later.”

They got into their car and drove off.

“I have a confession to make.” Sam turned to me with a huge grin.

“What’s that?” Dean turned with a smile.

“I uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” He scratched the back of his neck.

I giggled, and Dean threw an arm around my shoulder. “Yeah.” He laughed. “Well, I’m the one who put the dead fish in their backseat.”

I giggled again, and the boys broke into laughter.

“Hey, boys?” I looked up.

“Yeah, bug?”

“What is it, baby?”

I gave them puppy eyes. “Truce? Please?”

They sighed and looked at each other. Sam shrugged, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, truce.”

“Truce.” Sam smiled.

“At least for the next hundred miles.” Dean winked as he got up.

“Let’s go home.”

Previous Ep: Shadow (1.16)

Next Ep: Something Wicked (1.18)

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bellamyblakru · 4 years

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10 characters, 10 fandoms

rules : name 10 characters from 10 different fandoms that you like, and then tag 10 people.

imma name ten of my number one favorites from each fandom !!

tagged by literally one of my favorite fucking accounts in the world: @merlinemrys you are wonderful, thank you🥺

tagging my other favorite humans i can think of rn and ANYONE ELSE WHO WANTS TO DO THIS WHO PASSES BY PLS DO IT AND TAG ME!! i dont mind i swear, i love this shit: @nakey-cats-take-bathsss @idgafthisisashitdump @yourebeautifuleverylilpiecelove @igotbellarkeforthat @teaamfreewill

1 - Merlin (from, yanno, Merlin) (my small powerful king who owns my life rn)

2 - Clarke Griffin (my girl!!! the 100,,BUT bellamy blake is a VERY close second)

3 - Harry Potter (my boyyyyy,, i enjoy book harry more than movie harry bc more sass but i love them both) (BUT sirius black is an extremely close second)

4 - Tony Stark (mcu ofc iron man is still alive to me dw)

5 - Dean Winchester (supernatural,, i think he was my first love at the age of 11 when i first started the show. im 19 now n i still love him:))

6 - Ben Solo (star wars,, i mean come on?? who doesn’t love adam driver??)

7 - Sabrina Spellman (caos!! my queen)

8 - Klaus Hargreeves (the umbrella academy!! my disaster king)

9 - Newt Scammder (fantasic beasts and where to find them!! my hufflepuff legend) (i am a hufflepuff btw!) i love u my awkward king

10 - Oliver Queen (dcu!! this was a hard pick between oliver and barry bc i love barry allen with my whole heart,, but oliver queen is such a fucking badass i gotta give it to him) (AND yes, he is still alive to me too dw)

#more tag games!!#thank you beautiful people #these are my favorite characters #i feel like it says a lot about me??#i def have a type oop LOL

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trinuviel · 5 years

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Was the Stark Ancestral Sword Ice the Original “Lightbringer”?

In a recent interview Nikolaj Coster-Waldau hinted that there might be a deeper meaning to the fact that Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth wields Valyrian steel swords made from the Stark ancestral sword Ice.

(The HuffPost)

Ice was a great sword of Valyrian steel that has belonged to House Stark for times immemorial. We see Ned Stark wield it in his capacity as Warden of the North in the very first episode of season 1 and he is decapitated by his own blade in episode 9 of the same season.

In season 4, Tywin Lannister ordered Ice melted down and reforged into two new swords meant for his son Jaime and his grand-son Joffrey Baratheon - so that House Lannister could once again have Valyrian steel (House Lannister lost their Valyrian sword Brightroar in when King Tommen II sailed to the ruins of Valyria).

That was a rather painful moment for fans of House Stark - seeing a symbol of their House appropriated by their enemies. Ice was made into two new swords. Joffrey named his sword Widow’s Wail (because he’s a little shit) but Jaime gave his sword to Brienne of Tarth who named it Oathkeeper.

There’s a beautiful sort of poetic justice to the fact that the remnants of Ned Stark’s sword are going to be wielded in defense of Winterfell and Ned Stark’s children. However, NWC’s words seems to hint that the deeper meaning of these two swords goes beyond the emotional resonance of this. In fact, his words reawakened a theory that has been puttering about at the back of my head for a while: What if Ice was the magical sword of the Lightbringer myth? It may sound like a bit of a reach - and maybe it is - but I have several reasons for thinking that Ice may in fact have been the original Lightbringer.

JAIME’S DREAM

According to the Jade Compendium, Lightbringer burned fiery hot when wielded in battle - it was, in short, a burning sword. Burning swords appear multiple times in ASoIaF as I’ve elaborated on in this essay. One of these times is during a dream that Jaime has in ASoS. When an injured Jaime is being escorted back to King’s Landing, he has a vivid dream whilst sleeping with his head on the stump of a Weirwood tree. In this dream, Jaime wields a burning sword:

“I gave you a sword,” Lord Tywin said. It was at his feet. Jaime groped under the water until his hand closed upon the hilt. Nothing can hurt me so long as I have a sword. As he raised the sword a finger of pale flame flickered at the point and crept up along the edge, stopping a hand’s breath from the hilt. The fire took on the color of the steel itself so it burned with a silvery-blue light, and the gloom pulled back. (ASoS, IV)

Brienne appears in his dream and she, too, is given a sword that takes flame:

Brienne’s sword took flame as well, burning silvery blue. The darkness retreated a little more. […] Brienne moved her longsword back and forth, watching the silvery flames shift and shimmer. Beneath her feet, a reflection of the burning blade shone on the surface of the flat black water. (ASoS, Jaime IV)

What is especially noteworthy here, is the fact that the two swords burn with a silver-blue fire!

This is a significant detail since the prophecy of Azor Ahai come again calls Lightbringer not only a burning sword but the Red Sword of Heroes!

"In ancient books of Asshai it is written that there will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. In this dread hour a warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes, and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before him." - Melisandre (ACoK, Davos I)

I’ve previously argued (here and here) that the prophecy of Azor Ahai may not be what Melisandre and the audience think it is. It is very possible that GRRM will subject this part of the story to a epic Prophecy Twist - and that the prophecy is not the promise of a saviour but rather a warning.

Now let’s get back to Jaime’s dream. In this context, this dream may foreshadow both he and Brienne will wield Valyrian swords in the Great War - but the fact that the swords burn silver-blue sets them apart from the prophecy of AA coem again. Jaime has this dream before he returns to King’s Landing where Tywin gives him one of the two Valyrian swords that he had made out of Ice, the ancestral sword of House Stark.

Jaime gives this sword to Brienne when he sends her on her mission to find and protect Sansa Stark. He asks her to fullfill the oath he gave to Catelyn Stark and that is why Brienne names her sword Oathkeeper.

The second sword made from Ice was given to Joffrey who named it Widow’s Wail. It is unclear what happened to this sword after Joffrey’s death but it is assumed that it is kept in trust for Tommen until he grows older. Will Jaime eventually wield Widow’s Wail? I find this quite possible given this dream - and since Jaime does indeed wield Widow’s Wail in seasons 7 and 8, the show might just have spoiled this particular plot point.

However, Jaime’s dream might also hint that the two Valyrian swords made from Ice are special in a more magical sense. They burn like Azor Ahai’s magical sword Lightbringer burned, according to the myths and legends. Yet they burn with silver-blue fire as opposed to the red flames of the prophecy of AA come again. Thus, through this dream imagery, the remnants of Ice are connected to Lightbringer on the level of associative logic.

THE LAST HERO

The myth of Azor Ahai and the legend of Lightbringer are stories that have come out of Asshai, on the far end of the world. So could Ice actually be Lightbringer? This is where we have to take a look at the figure of the Last Hero, which is the character who is credited with leading the defense against the Others in Northern lore. The story of the Last Hero goes like this:

How the Long Night came to an end is a matter of legend, as all such matters of the distant past have become. In the North, they tell of a last hero who sought out the intercession of the children of the forest, his companions abandoning him or dying one by one as they faced ravenous giants, cold servants, and the Others themselves. Alone he finally reached the children, despite the efforts of the white walkers, and all the tales agree this was a turning point. Thanks to the children, the first men of the Night’s Watch banded together and were able to fight—and win—the Battle for the Dawn: the last battle that broke the endless winter and sent the Others fleeing to the icy north. Now, six thousand years later (or eight thousand as True History puts forward), the Wall made to defend the realms of men is still manned by the sworn brothers of the Night’s Watch, and neither the Others nor the children have been seen in many centuries.(TWoIaF, Ancient History: The Long Night)

(The Last Hero. Art by Roman Papsuev)

Who was the Last Hero? No one really knows but I’ve argued that you can make a case that the Last Hero was none other than Brandon the Builder, the legendary founder of House Stark, the architect of Winterfell and the Wall as well as the Hightower in Oldtown and Storm’s End, the ancestral seat of House Baratheon. Why do I think that the Last Hero was Brandon the Builder? It was this snippet of text in The World of Ice and Fire, the companion book to the series, that lead to my identification of the Last Hero with Brandon the Builder:

Maester Childer’s Winter’s Kings, or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell contains a part of a ballad alleged to tell of the time Brandon the Builder sought the aid of the children while raising the Wall. He was taken to a secret place to meet with them, but could not at first understand their speech, which was described as sounding like the song of stones in a brook, or the wind through leaves, or the rain upon the water. (tWoIaF)

In the myths of the North, the Last Hero sought the secret cities of the Children of the Forest - and now this piece of information from Maester Childer’s book Winter’s Kings or the Legends and Lineages of the Starks of Winterfell places Brandon the Builder in those self-same hidden cities. That is too much of a coincidence in my humble opinion.

If the Last Hero was indeed Brandon the Builder, founder of House Stark, then how does Ice come into the equation? Interestingly, in ADwD the text reveals another intriguing piece of information:

I found one account of the Long Night that spoke of the last hero slaying Others with a blade of dragonsteel. Supposedly they could not stand against it.” “Dragonsteel?” The term was new to Jon. “Valyrian steel?” (ADwD, Jon II)

Thus, the text hints that the last hero wielded a sword of Valyrian steel and that a weapon of this material could slay a White Walker. This is something that the show confirmed in season 5 when Jon Snow killed a WW with Longclaw, which is made from Valyrian steel.

The question now is this: How did the Last Hero/Brandon the Builder get a Valyrian steel sword before the rise of Old Valyria (the rise of Valyria and the Dragonlords is generally placed after the Long Night in the historical chronology of GRRM’s world). Furthermore, if Ice was the original Lightbringer, then what is the connection between the legend of Lightbringer and Valyrian steel swords?

THE MYTH OF LIGHTBRINGER AS AN ALLEGORY

I have previously written about how the legend of Lightbringer works as a subversion of the trope of the Magic Sword on a meta-textual level. Many readers fail to realize that magic swords already exists in Westeros!

GRRM has specified that Valyrian swords require magic for the forging, which means that every single sword made of Valyrian steel is, in fact, a magic sword!

However, he doesn’t specify what kind of magic is required to make Valyrian steel. Some fans have speculated that dragonfire was necessary to forge Valyrian steel and while I understand the reasoning it doesn’t strike me as particularly practical in its application. Instead, I think that there’s a clue hidden in the companion book in the section on the Free City of Qohor because the smiths of this Essosi city still know the secret to rework Valyrian steel:

The properties of Valyrian steel are well-known, and are the result of both folding iron many times to balance and remove impurities, and the use of spells—or at least arts we do not know—to give unnatural strength to the resulting steel. Those arts are now lost, though the smiths of Qohor claim to still know magics for reworking Valyrian steel without losing its strength or unsurpassed ability to hold an edge. (TWoIaF, Ancient History: Valyria’s Children)

It is a secret jealously guarded:

Maester Pol’s treatise on Qohorik metalworking, written during several years of residence in the Free City, reveals just how jealously the secrets are guarded: He was thrice publicly whipped and cast out from the city for making too many inquiries. The final time, his hand was also removed following the allegation that he stole a Valyrian steel blade. According to Pol, the true reason for his final exile was his discovery of blood sacrifices—including the killing of slaves as young as infants—which the Qohorik smiths used in their efforts to produce a steel to equal that of the Freehold. (TWoIaF, The Free Cities: Qohor)

This is an interesting story though it should be taken with a grain of salt, especially since Ice was reforged in King’s Landing by Tobho Mott:

Tobho had learned to work Valyrian steel at the forges of Qohor as a boy. Only a man who knew the spells could take old weapons and forge them anew. (AGoT, Eddard IV)

Mott, however, used magic when he reforged the ancestral Stark great sword Ice into two new Valyrian swords for House Lannister :

But Valyrian steel is stubborn. These old swords remember, it is said, and they do not change easily. I worked half a hundred spells and brightened the red time and time again, but always the color would darken, as if the blade was drinking the sun from it.(Tobho Mott to Tyrion Lannister, ASoS, Tyrion IV)

Whilst Mott was trained in Qohor, I seriously doubt that he could get away with killing someone unnoticed. However, it is possible that some kind of blood magic is involved in reworking Valyrian steel. Blood magic doesn’t have to involve murder as Melisandre demonstrates with the use of blood fattened leeches.

This brings us back to the myth of Lightbringer, which is the story of how Azor Ahai forges a sword in the holy fires of a temple and then quences it in the heart’s blood of his faithful wife Nissa Nissa:

A hundred days and a hundred nights he labored on the third blade and as it glowed white hot in the sacred fires, he summoned his wife. ‘Nissa Nissa,’ he said to her, for that was her name, ‘bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world. She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes.” - Salladhor Saan to Davos Seaworth (ACoK, Davos I)

(Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa. The Forging of Lightbringer. Art by Amok)

The role of myth is a recurring theme in ASoIaF. GRRM plays with the idea that ancient myths contain a kernel of truth, a truth that has been distorted over millennia of retellings. A lot of fans seems to think that the myth of Lightbringer functions as a kind of recipe to create an extra-special magical sword. However, while myths contains kernels of truth in GRRM’s universe, they are not necessarily to be read in a literal manner. I don’t think that a prophesied hero will have to kill a loved one to make a magical weapon. I suspect that the myth of Lightbringer is to be read allegorically rather than literally.

The myth of Lightbringer tells us two things about the creation of this magical blade:

There is smith craft involved - “Azor Ahai labored sleepless in the temple, forging a blade in the sacred fires.” (ACoK, Davos I)

A blood sacrifice is involved - “Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel.”

This actually dovetails nicely with what GRRM himself has said about the making of Valyrian steel:

Q: A brief question about Valyrian steel - is it the metal that makes the sword so special (provenance, age, etc), or is it the forging (spells, techniques)

GRRM: Forging techniques and spells, actually. There is magic involved in the making of Valyrian steel. (x)

If we read the myth of Lightbringer allegorically then the sacrifice of Nissa Nissa signifies what type of magic was used in the creation of Valyrian steel, i.e. blood magic.

Let’s get back to the the legend of the Last Hero. As said, Sam discovers an ancient text in the library at Castle Black that states that the Last Hero slew a White Walker with dragonsteel, i.e. a Valyrian sword. In this context, it is worth noting that in Old Nan’s retelling of the story, it is specifically mentioned that the Last Hero loses his sword during his quest:

He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog, and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of ever finding the children of the forest in their secret cities. One by one his friends died, and his horse, and finally even his dog, and his sword froze so hard the blade snapped when he tried to use it. (AGoT, Bran I)

A frozen blade shattering in the cold sounds a lot like what happened to Ser Waymar Royce when he duels with a White Walker in the prologue of AGoT:

His blade was white with frost; the Other's danced with pale blue light.

...

Ser Waymar Royce found his fury. "For Robert!" he shouted, and he came up snarling, lifting the frost-covered longsword with both hands and swinging it around in a flat sidearm slash with all his weight behind it. The Other's parry was almost lazy.

When the blades touched, the steel shattered.

A scream echoed through the forest night, and the longsword shivered into a hundred brittle pieces, the shards scattering like a rain of needles. (AGoT, Prologue)

The Others bring a cold so intense that it shatters steel swords. Only a magical blade might stand a chance against their ice swords.

If the Last hero was indeed Brandon Stark, and if he did indeed wield a blade made of Valyrian steel, then it is most likely that this sword was Ice, the ancestral blade of the House he founded. If this is indeed the case, the its very name, Ice, could obliquely refer to the fact that it was used to kill a being that was essentially “Ice Made Flesh” (I’ve argued elsewhere that the text implicitly depicts the Others as beings of embodied ice).

THE HIGHTOWER

Let’s just assume that Ice was indeed the dragonsteel blade that the Last Hero (Brandon the Builder) wielded against the Others. The question remains: how did he get his hands on a blade of Valyrian steel when the Valyrian Freehold did not yet exist? In this context, it is worth noting that the myth of Lightbringer and the prophecy of Azor Ahai come again appear to originate in Asshai and not in Valyria. Maybe the secret to forge Valyrian steel wasn’t actually discovered in the Valyrian freehold but in Asshai? This is where this essay gets even more speculative.

In this section, I’ll be drawing on a four part theory that the user u/sangeli published on reddit a few years ago (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4). The gist of this theory revolves around the hypothesis that the Valyrian Dragonlords weren’t native to the Valyrian peninsula but that they were the descendants of the Great Empire of the Dawn, which u/sangeli locates in Asshai. The chaos of the Long Night cause an Asshai’i diaspora (possibly because Asshai was ground zero of some kind of magical catastrophe that rendered the place sterile, which I’ve written about elsewhere). One of the places where the Asshai settled was the Valyrian peninsula and the companion book does offer some weight to this argument:

In Asshai, the tales are many and confused, but certain texts—all impossibly ancient—claim that dragons first came from the Shadow, a place where all of our learning fails us. These Asshai'i histories say that a people so ancient they had no name first tamed dragons in the Shadow and brought them to Valyria, teaching the Valyrians their arts before departing from the annals. (TWoIaF, Ancient History: The Rise of Valyria)

However, u/sangeli goes further and theorizes that some of the Asshai’i also settled in Westeros, more specifically in the location that is now known as Oldtown. It is one of the oldest, perhaps even the oldest of the cities of Westeros and its origins is lost in the mists of time. That doesn’t necessarily mean that it was founded by an Asshai’i disapora but u/sangeli presents the mysterious structure of fused black stone that constitutes the foundation of the Hightower as a piece of evidence for their theory:

Yet mysteries remain. The stony island where the Hightower stands is known as Battle Isle even in our oldest records, but why? What battle was fought there? When? Between which lords, which kings, which races? Even the singers are largely silent on these matters.

Even more enigmatic to scholars and historians is the great square fortress of black stone that dominates that isle. For most of recorded history, this monumental edifice has served as the foundation and lowest level of the Hightower, yet we know for a certainty that it predates the upper levels of the tower by thousands of years.

Who built it? When? Why? Most maesters accept the common wisdom that declares it to be of Valyrian construction, for its massive walls and labyrinthine interiors are all of solid rock, with no hint of joins or mortar, no chisel marks of any kind, a type of construction that is seen elsewhere, most notably in the dragonroads of the Freehold of Valyria, and the Black Walls that protect the heart of Old Volantis. The dragonlords of Valryia, as is well-known, possessed the art of turning stone to liquid with dragonflame, shaping it as they would, then fusing it harder than iron, steel, or granite. (AWoIaF, The Reach: Oldtown)

The base on which the Hightower rests is made from fused black stone in an unknown technique the is eerily reminiscent of the magical arts of Valyria. Yet the architectural style of this edifice shares no similarities with the architecture of Old Valyria:

The fused black stone of which it is made suggests Valyria, but the plain, unadorned style of architecture does not, for the dragonlords loved little more than twisting stone into strange, fanciful, and ornate shapes. Within, the narrow, twisting, windowless passages strike many as being tunnels rather than halls; it is very easy to get lost amongst their turnings. Mayhaps this is no more than a defensive measure designed to confound attackers, but it too is singularly un-Valyrian. (TWoIaF, The Reach: Oldtown)

I must admit that with evidence like this, I do find u/sangeli’s theory that the Hightower was founded by an Asshai’i disapora both interesting and convincing. As do I find their claim that House Hightower may indeed descend from these people, especially since the companion book also raises the issue of the origins of House Hightower:

The reasons for the abandonment of the fortress and the fate of its builders, whoever they might have been, are likewise lost to us, but at some point we know that Battle Isle and its great stronghold came into the possession of the ancestors of House Hightower. Were they First Men, as most scholars believe today? Or did they mayhaps descend from the seafarers and traders who had settled at the top of Whispering Sound in earlier epochs, the men who came before the First Men? We cannot know. (TWoIaF, The Reach: Oldtown)

The reason I bring up the Hightower in relation to the Last Hero and the secret of Valyrian steel, is because Brandon the Builder had a connection to the Hightower as the purported architect of its upper levels. Furthermore, the Hightower is associated with the Night’s Watch through the image of the Lighthouse as a positive image of fire - a beacon in the darkness, which I’ve written about elsewhere.

(Left: Hightower in Oldtown. Art by Ted Nasmith, Right: Sigil and Motto of House Hightower)

If we accept that there’s usually a kernel of truth in the myths and legends within GRRM’s fictional universe, then we may speculate that Brandon the Builder did indeed visit Oldtown and the mysterious fortress that forms the base of the Hightower. If u/sangeli is correct in their theory, then the people who inhabited this mysterious structure of fused black stone may have been Asshai’i refugees from the GEotD - and they may have known the secret of forging dragonsteel steel. The Hightower may indeed have been the place where Ice was forged.

All of this is, of course, highly speculative, if the Last Hero did indeed wield a blade made of Valyrian steel before the Valyrian Freehold existed, then I haven’t come across another theory as to why he would have had such a blade.

(GIFs not mine)

#asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #game of throne #lightbringer #ice #valyrian steel #azor ahai #the last hero #oldtown #the hightower #asoiafmeta #asoiaf meta #gotmeta #got meta

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