#zeetha girl genius

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Zeetha, Daughter of Klaus Ch 1/3

Fandom: Girl Genius Summary: Twenty years ago, Queen Zantabraxus gave birth to twins. Twenty years ago, Klaus had a choice to make. Twenty years ago, Klaus brought one of his children with him when he fled back to Europa.

In one universe, he took his son.

In this one, he took his daughter.

A very brief look at what happens when you have to play a part that wasn't written for you, trapped in a narrative that belongs to someone else.

AO3 Link Ch 2 Ch 3

Klaus Wulfenbach could not have made a more dramatic entrance if he’d planned it. The only reason Agatha felt he hadn’t was because she couldn’t think why he would waste it on such an unimportant audience.

The Baron strode into the room with his hands behind his back, his face a mask that managed to be both emotionless and displeased at the same time. Four massive war clanks, gleaming in the overhead lights, formed a protective square around the Baron and his entourage, led by a fearsome Jägermonster. Walking just behind Klaus on his right was a four-armed man scribbling industriously into a notebook. On his left, a girl about Agatha’s age, dressed in a charcoal grey suit and an embroidered waistcoat.

Being Agatha's height and only slightly broader in the shoulders, she should have been dwarfed by the Baron, but she exuded a proud, boisterous air that refused to be ignored; emphasized by her large brown eyes and wide mouth, both bright with barely-concealed amusement. Agatha was sure that she would have made as striking a presence as the Baron...if it wasn't for the hair. 

Dull, coarse, mousey brown, worn short in an unflattering bob, it was all the more eye-catching for how out of place it was on a person otherwise so sleek. Surely, Agatha thought, she had to know. Color and texture, one could only do so much, but haircuts were on purpose.

Suddenly the girl met Agatha’s eyes and grinned, revealing very sharp canines. Agatha, realizing she'd been caught staring, gave her a tight smile and looked instead at Beetle, who was fluttering around Klaus like a nervous butterfly, insisting that they could have this conversation elsewhere, there was no need to bother the professors.

“Damn it all, Klaus, this is my university!”

“In my town. In my empire. These are the ones I asked for?” he continued, nodding to the doctors before Beetle could say more. The Tyrant, red in the face, gritted his teeth.

“Dr Silas Merlot, my second in command and Dr Hugo Glassvitch, my chief of research.” Absentmindedly he waved a hand at Agatha. “And my lab assistant Miss Cl—”

Beetle whipped around to look at Agatha, his expression one of frantic horror that Agatha thought was far too dramatic.

“Miss Clay! Where is your locket?”

“I was robbed on my way here,” Agatha said, twisting her fingers together. “There was some sort of electrical anomaly, and I was trying to get away from it when I was…”

Beetle was barely listening.

“In my city? I’ll have the watch commander’s head for this!” He grabbed her arm and began to hustle her towards the door. “You must go home, my dear, you are clearly shaken--”

“Actually I feel much bett—”

“Nononono, I’ll not hear it, you must—”

A heavy hand landed on Agatha’s shoulder.

“Wait. This event—you saw it?” The Baron leaned over her, practically blocking out the light, fixing her with an intense, piercing gaze that made Agatha feel like a specimen under a microscope.

“Yes, sir. I was right there.”

“Stay. I have questions—but they must wait for later.”

“I can do it.” This was the mystery girl, stepping in closer to Agatha—who was starting to feel penned in. “I’ll take her home. It may be easier to interview her in a more comfortable setting. Besides—you don’t need me here for this.”

“That’s really not nec—” Agatha began.

“I would prefer you be here for this,” the Baron snapped, turning his focus from Agatha to his associate, who did not seem at all bothered by the laser glare.

“But you don’t need me,” the girl insisted. “And have you considered, Father, that you may not want her here for this?”

Father? This was—this was the Baron’s daughter? Agatha had heard the rumors about Zeetha Wulfenbach, everyone had, although the rumors couldn’t agree on much besides the fact that the Baron had announced her out of nowhere only a few months ago.

Then the rest of the girl’s statement hit her, and Agatha’s face went red. She must have heard about Agatha’s... problem from someone in the university—and very few people would have been kind about it. They probably told her she broke everything she touched, and Zeetha wanted her out of the way where she couldn’t do any damage.

“ I said I’m fine !” Agatha snapped. Everyone stared, and Agatha cleared her throat as her cheeks went red. “ Thank you . I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m. Fine.”

“There,” the Baron said. “The matter is finished. We can attend to business.”

He turned away, wandering towards the machine in the center of the room. Zeetha caught Agatha’s eye and, to Agatha’s amazement, winked at her. With a small, approving smile touching her lips, Zeetha followed her father.

She didn’t have any more time to think about it, because the Baron said:

“The real reason I wanted to meet here today, Beetle, is because I am here about the hive engine.”

“ What?” Agatha yelped. No one noticed her. Instead, the Baron advanced slowly on Beetle, who backed away.

“Hive engine, what—what are you talking about?” Beetle stammered.

“The hive engine. The on the field team stumbled across two weeks ago. The one you had moved into the university for study. The one you have been testing. The one that, based on changes in laboratory schedules and chemical requisitions, is in this room.”

The Baron was very good at looming, and he did so now, staring down at Beetle with contempt.

“ That hive engine.”

“Preposterous!” Beetle blustered, drawing himself up. “Where could I possibly be hiding a hive engine?”

Zeetha had begun to meander towards the storage closet. Agatha noticed—as Zeetha had—that the rivets were straining, the wood of the door bulging as it gradually weakened against internal pressure.

“You’re certainly hiding something in here,” Zeetha said, casually.

“No, wait—!” Agatha cried.

“I don’t think I will,” Zeetha said, almost playfully, and turned the handle.

“ Nooooo!”

A wave of paperwork, lab equipment, and anything else Agatha had found that wasn’t nailed down or too heavy to carry, erupted from the storage closet. Agatha cringed, squeezing her eyes shut at the cacophony of her work being undone. When it stopped and she dared open her eyes, Zeetha was standing untouched beside the pile, having neatly stepped to the side upon opening the door.

She was holding a goldfish bowl in one hand, its occupant swimming in frantic circles as the water sloshed back and forth but did not spill a drop.

“Oh.”

“Hive engines are slightly bigger than that,” the Baron said, icily.

“ I know that ,” Zeetha snapped, her cheeks going slightly pink. “I thought it might have been something guarding the mechanism to open that false wall back there.”

Wordlessly, Klaus crossed the room towards the back wall and pulled a large lever. He kept his eyes on Zeetha, who turned a brighter pink as the far wall trembled and mechanisms hummed. A section of the wall slid neatly into the floor to reveal--

To reveal the most horrible thing Agatha had ever seen in her life. A massive orb of metal and glass, full of black liquid that swirled, rose, fell, tendrils sliding over the glass as if looking for a way out. And there were...things. Shapeless things moving in the dark, and Agatha could see glimpses of teeth or eyes or terrible, terrible faces.

“One rule, Beetle. I made one rule: report all unusual discoveries, and immediately turn over any devices of the Other. You agreed to this rule.”

“I had no choice!” Beetle shouted. “You had me over a barrel! It was you or let the city starve!”

“So that was it? You kept it in the middle of the city—in the middle of the university ,” Zeetha spat, “and put your people at risk of the worst fate imaginable, so you could get one over on the Baron? I should—”

Her right hand flew to her left hip and closed around empty air. Zeetha growled in frustration and lunged forward, only for the Baron to grab her by the collar and pull her back.

“And yet,” Klaus said, as if there had been no interruption, “you signed the agreement. Which means—”

“It meant nothing then, and it means nothing now! I don’t need you or your empire now! So you can just get out!”

“Just like that?” Klaus asked, dryly.

Overhead there was a crack, a splintering of wood, groaning of timbers, and a metal gun the size of a large tractor leveled itself at the Baron.

“DO NOT MOVE,” boomed Professor Tock.

“Just like that,” Beetle confirmed, smugly, and cackled.

There was a pause as the Wulfenbachs considered their situation.

“Are you stupid?” Zeetha asked, finally. Beetle let out a squawk of outrage.

“How dare you!”

“Zeetha, do not antagonize the man with the large gun pointing at us,” Klaus said, wearily.

“Listen to your father, girl ,” Beetle sneered.

“He doesn’t have a large gun," Zeetha argued. "His clank has a big gun.”

“Which is still pointed directly at you,” Beetle said, “so if I were you I would hold my tongue!”

“If you were me, you’d know better than to think this would be a successful method of stopping us. See, that’s the problem with Sparks like you—you only think about the size of the gun and how much firepower you can give it. You never think about the downside!”

“...what downside?” Beetle asked, taking a slow, nervous step back.

“Things that are big…”

The air blurred. Agatha blinked, and Zeetha was standing directly behind Beetle, one arm around his throat, her free hand holding a knife beside his face.

“...are slow.”

It took several seconds for Tok’s head to turn all the way to see where she’d gone; even longer for the gun to ponderously swing towards Zeetha and Beetle. It paused halfway as Tok’s mechanism finished calculating the risk to its creator, and swung back towards the Baron.

Zeetha nodded to Agatha. “You might want to put that somewhere out of the way.”

Agatha looked down and realized she was holding the goldfish bowl. She looked back up at Zeetha in amazement. She’d never known anyone who could move that fast who wasn’t a construct.

“Now,” Zeetha said, smugly, and panic hit Agatha’s heart like a misfired lightning bolt.

“Don’t!” she cried, putting the fishbowl on the table so she could reach out imploringly. “Don’t kill him, please! We...we need him.”

“You need him?” Zeetha exclaimed. “You need a man who was one minor accident away from wasping your city? And what about that gun? You���re right within shrapnel range—if it shoots now, you could be hurt, maybe even killed! People keep telling me that the Tyrant keeps them safe, but I’m not seeing a whole lot of safety in this room right now.”

Agatha didn’t know what to say to that. She was saved from having to answer by Beetle himself piping up.

“Don’t worry, Miss Clay. She can’t kill me.” Beetle was pale and sweating, but he was also sneering. “The moment she does, Tok will open fire, and the Baron will have to be buried in a matchbox—Hgk!”

He choked as Zeetha’s grip tightened, her forearm pressing down against his windpipe.

“That’s true,” Zeetha said. “We’re in a proper standoff. Neither of us can make a move. But here’s the thing—I’m still going to win, because I’ve got something you never even considered for yourself.”

“And what is that?” Beetle asked, his nerves once more beginning to show.

Zeetha grinned, a wolf-sharp grin of victory. She leaned in and spoke in a stage whisper.

“ Backup.”

The side of Tock’s head exploded. The clank rocked sideways, its gun swinging up and out, flailing as it tried to keep itself from falling. A squad of airships, guns drawn and aimed at the oversized clank, drifted into view. Zeetha’s lip curled and Beetle cried out in dismay as another salvo struck Tok. This time the great clank stumbled back, losing its grip on the roof of the building, which slammed back into place with a crash that cracked the plaster on the walls.

A few seconds later, an even bigger impact shook the ground under their feet.

“We arrived here in a massive airship surrounded by lots of other airships, all of which are equipped to shoot very large targets—what did you think was going to happen? Were you going to hope no one would notice?”

“Guar--!” Beetle began to scream and again was cut off as Zeetha tightened her grip.

“Oh no you don’t. You’re done and you know it. The only reason you’re alive right now is my father thinks you’re more useful to us that way. But you would be equally useful as a head in a jar. Which would you prefer?”

Very slowly, without a word, Beetle raised his hands in surrender. Zeetha smirked and released him. Twirling the knife neatly over her fingers, she sauntered back to the others.

“I told you not to bring weapons,” Klaus said.

“You told me not to bring my sword ,” Zeetha said, unrepentant. “You didn’t say anything about knives.”

Agatha couldn’t take her eyes off of Beetle. He looked so small, standing alone in the middle of the room. He stared at the floor, his hands repeatedly smoothing over his jacket and waistcoat.

“Useful,” he mumbled. “Oh yes. I know what use you would have for me, Klaus.”

The Baron looked sharply at Beetle.

“What was that?”

“Useful,” Beetle murmured again. His signet ring snagged on one of the beetle broaches on his jacket and it popped off into his hand. Beetle stared at it, blankly. “You want me to be useful.”

Zeetha shifted her weight, uneasily.

“Tarsus,” Klaus said, carefully. “Whatever it is you believe I intend—”

Beetle suddenly looked up. His eyes were wild and his lips were bared in a horrible grimace; his grip was white-knuckled on the broach.

“I will show you useful. ”

And flung out his hand.

Wings snapped open and the beetle shot towards them, zigzagging wildly but with unerring aim.

Agatha was frozen in place. The Jägermonster began to run towards them, but everything had slowed to a crawl—everything but the beetle.

And Zeetha.

Who grabbed the fishbowl off the table, caught the goldfish, removed her hand from the water, swung the bowl like a butterfly net and neatly scooped the bomb out of the air.

Electricity crackled through the water, the beetle flashing brightly once before fizzling. It bobbed to the surface , a thin stream of smoke escaping from its carapace.

Setting the fishbowl back down, Zeetha grabbed the beetle by one mechanical leg and drew it out of the water before dropping the fish back inside.

“You should probably change the water,” Zeetha told Agatha, smiling smugly. “No idea what’s in these.”

Beetle slowly sank to his knees. Agatha felt tears rise to her eyes at the look on his face—that of a man who has been utterly broken.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby ,” Zeetha scoffed. “You’re going to be fine. Here. You can even have your little toy back.”

As if she were flipping a coin, Zeetha lazily tossed the tiny clank at Beetle’s feet.

It exploded.

Agatha felt heat on her face, and then she was landing on the ground, hard. Strong arms pinned her in place, practically crushing her to the body curled protectively around her. The noise rattled Agatha’s eardrums; she could feel it vibrating in her bones.

Then it was gone, leaving an audial aftershock of hissing smoke and tinkling glass. Carefully, Zeetha unfolded from around Agatha, releasing her from her unexpectedly vice-like grip, sitting back and staring at the destruction before her.

“But...” she said. “No, but--! But I neutralized it!”

“You neutralized the machinery that allowed the bomb to move ,” the Baron said, coldly. “You did not neutralize the elements that made the bomb explode.”

“ What? That’s ridiculous! You can’t half-neutralize something!”

Agatha stared in horror at the blackened remains of Doctor Tarsus Beetle, charred beyond all recognition.

“No,” Agatha whispered. Beside her, Zeetha flinched. “No! Dr Beetle!”

“His head,” the Baron said, sharply. “How is—”

Dr Glassvitch shook his head, his expression grief-stricken.

“ Damn it all.”

“You killed him,” Agatha whispered.

“Not on purpose!” Zeetha exclaimed, embarrassed.

“Perhaps next time,” the Baron said, “you will engage in confrontations with a little more care, and a little less showboating.”

Zeetha’s eyes narrow.

“Oh yes , Herr Baron,” she said, getting up off the floor. “How foolish of me. Next time someone throws a bomb at me, I’ll be sure to stand there and let it hit me.”

“Dun vorry, Mizz Zeetha,” the Jäger said, jovially, holding up some unidentifiable organ. “Hy dun tink he vould haff been verr useful anyvay—Hy izn’t findink a whole lot of brains in diz mess.”

“Herr Baron, may we leave now?” At last, the Baron’s secretary spoke, his voice tinged equally with exasperation and irritation. “My feet are sticking to the floor.”

Agatha erupted to her feet.

“How dare you!” she screamed, breathless with anger—though not so breathless she could not find her voice. Everyone—even the Baron—drew back in alarm. And that felt good, it felt. . .it felt right. They should be cowering before her! They should be filled with dread for invoking her wrath! How dare they come into her place like this!

“Is this some kind of a joke to everyone? Doctor Beetle is dead! The greatest ruler this city has ever seen was killed, and you’re complaining about your shoes? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? The people of this city will never stand for this! They will rise up and they will —”

Agony, lightning and knives and fire, burst in Agatha’s head with such ferocity she felt it halfway down her spine. She collapsed to her knees, clutching her head as tears of pain and frustration poured down her cheeks.

Worse than the pain was the loss—that ferocious sense of surety and strength melted away in the rising swell of humiliation. She did not need to open her eyes to know the look the others would now be giving her. Whatever Dr Glassvitch said was muffled and unintelligible.

The Baron’s murmured “Pathetic ” was loud and clear.

But both Agatha and the Baron missed the expressions that flitted over Zeetha and the Jägermonster’s faces—her, a flinch, hurt that wanted to be anger but wasn’t; him, bitter disappointment not quite managing to snuff out desperate hope.

“She just watched her mentor explode ,” Zeetha said. “I think this is a pretty understandable reaction.”

“Hmm. She was right. The people may cause a problem if this is not handled delicately.”

“That’s not what I—”

“It may not be such an issue, Herr Baron,” Merlot said, helpfully. “Very few people actually saw Dr Beetle on a reg—”

“ Silence.” Klaus’ voice was as cold as death and nailed everyone in the room in place. “Do not imagine me ignorant of your complicity, doctor. You both knew about the hive engine; you both helped Beetle hide it. The only reason you two are not in a transport headed for Castle Heterodyne this moment is that I am aware neither of you were in a position to resist the orders of the Tyrant if you did want to.

“As Doctor Beetle’s second in command, I leave the running of the town in your hands, Dr Merlot. Dr Glassvitch will be responsible for the university.”

Glassvitch went pale.

“I—but, but I’m not qualified—”

The Baron loomed.

“I recommend you acquire qualification with speed , because t he moment either of you give me cause to so much as suspect your involvement was willing, there will be... consequences.”

“I...But…”

The Baron turned away, waving a hand.

“I want all of the existing notes on the hive engine collated and sent to me by the end of the day. Boris will tell your assistant where to bring them.”

But Merlot’s eyes had locked onto Agatha, who had already braced herself for the inevitable.

“I have no need for an assistant as useless as this one. Miss Clay, you are dismissed.”

“Yes, doctor,” Agatha murmured, eyes downcast. “When I come to class tomorrow, I’ll get my things.”

She felt it. There was no sound, she could not see him react, but she felt Glassvitch’s guilt like heat from a fire. She turned her head. Her eyes met his. He did not need to say it.

“No,” she whispered.

“Agatha—”

“ No, you can’t—”

“ Please understand,” Glassvitch begged. “I am not Beetle; I do not have the kind of sway he did. I will not have the time or the power to protect you here—”

“So you’re just, just going to throw me out?”

Zeetha grabbed her father’s arm.

“ Do something!” she hissed. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Stop him!”

“It is his university.”

“Only because you gave it to him! This is only happening to her because of us! ”

“Us? Or you?”

Zeetha went rigid and released her father as if he had burned her.

“You were my friend ,” Agatha said, tears once more streaming down her cheeks.

“I am ,” Glassvitch said. His expression was agonized. Agatha did not care. “I promise, when things have settled, I will come visit you—”

She jerked away when he tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t bother,” she spat. With all the dignity she had, she turned on her heel and left the room with her head held high.

Glassvitch shut his eyes and rubbed his face.

“Herr Baron, please allow me to send someone with her to walk her home. I fear she may have another attack—”

Zeetha shoved him aside and stormed towards the door, following Agatha.

“Zeetha!” Klaus said, sharply.

“ I’ll get her home safe,” Zeetha snapped over her shoulder. Under her breath, she added, “I owe her that much, at least.”

[balu8]

"It's perfect!"

Zeetha and Gil

Girl Genius

by Phil Foglio and Kaja Foglio

Airship Entertainment

[inbarfink]

[phoenixyfriend]

I don't have much but i know doctors without borders'll do what they can with what I give--I'd like to request an Azeetha ficlet please :3

the ao3 tag will be more than 2 fics 😤

Donate to one of these charities and I'll write a ficlet.

Here we are!

Behind Your Ribs, by yours truly.

[moltenzephyr]

Sheryl Meyer & Jewel Richie eyeswap success! Meet Agatha Heterodyne and Zeetha from Girl Genius. They both need a wardrobe update for the full effect, but this is some pretty decent 'closet cosplay' for them.

Bonus: made Agatha some spectacles by wrapping jewelry wire around a dowel, and Zeetha having a more fantastical Skifander vibe:

[calmingpi]

I didnt have a lot of time to work on them but i did get started on wulfenbach muppets

[elzerei-likes-girl-genius]

a whole family of Jäger metaphors

[girl-genius-comic-tourney]

Round 1

[ladyloveandjustice]

I can't tell if the queen just gave Zeetha new swords or turned her hands into swords. It looks like the latter, and I hope it is, and I hope she keeps them for the rest of the comic. Sure, it could make sex with Higgs awkward but it also could make it BETTER, depending on their kinks,

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Zeetha, Daughter of Klaus (Ch 3/3)

Fandom: Girl Genius Summary: Twenty years ago, Queen Zantabraxus gave birth to twins. Twenty years ago, Klaus had a choice to make. Twenty years ago, Klaus brought one of his children with him when he fled back to Europa.

In one universe, he took his son.

In this one, he took his daughter.

A very brief look at what happens when you have to play a part that wasn't written for you, trapped in a narrative that belongs to someone else.

Ch 1 Ch2 Ch3 AO3 link

“Decorative, but evidently damaged. Held in contempt by those she worked with. Obviously not what we’re looking for.”

Zeetha’s temper flared, but she said nothing. This was Spark stuff, and she knew from experience the only way he’d listen to her about this was if she did it his way. Calculated facts as divorced from emotion as possible. The second she lost her temper he’d decide she was letting her emotions cloud her thinking, and anyway she was out of her depth because she wasn't a Spark.

“Yes…” her father was saying. “It makes sense. The girl was deeply upset about Beetle’s death. Her soldier lover, recently returned home, builds a clank for her.”

Z eetha, on her third round of counting to ten to calm herself down, started.

“Lover?”

Her father’s eyebrows shot up.

“Do you think underwear appropriate garb for a machine shop?” he exclaimed. The Jägers snickered, but Zeetha raised her eyebrows right back at him.

“Do you think that her father’s machine shop is an appropriate location for a woman to take her clothes off for her boyfriend?”

“Of course not--”

“Neither would any woman in Europa.”

The Jägers, aware that the Baron would take laughter at his expense significantly worse than Zeetha did, used every ounce of their somewhat limited self- control to keep themselves quiet. The result was some rather amusing choking noises.

Klaus’ eyes narrowed. Zeetha did not budge an inch and neither did her smile .

“I walked her home, remember? Ag—Miss Clay lives here with her parents. She is not the sort of girl who would risk being walked in on—especially not in a place with so many blunt instruments her father could beat her man to death with.”

K laus looked slightly annoyed, but did not immediately refute her statement, which Zeetha hoped was a good sign.

“Do you have a better explanation for her attire?”

Zeetha tensed, eyes going wide. She darted to the soldier, examining his face, his arms, his hands—and let out a gentle sigh of relief.

“No defensive wounds,” she said, half to herself.

“Is that a no?”

Z eetha looked at Klaus and narrowed her eyes.

“This is another one of your tests, isn’t it? What is it this time? You want to find out if I’m willing to tell you you’re wrong?”

“Zeetha,” Klaus said, wearily. “I no more need to test that than I need to test if gravity exists. However, if you wish to attempt to prove me wrong, by all means.” He spread his hands, his expression one of extreme patience. “What makes you sure she’s the Spark?”

Zeetha bit down hard on her cheek, hard, as she rose to her feet . Careful careful careful, she told herself. He’d decided she was being foolish, but he was still giving her a chance to speak her piece. One chance. She drew in a breath, squared her shoulders, and kept her expression placid.

“I’m not sure she’s the Spark. I’m not saying I know who is; I’m saying your analysis of the situation is flawed. Your evidence that she can’t be the Spark is that she’s pretty, she has headaches, and people are mean to her. How many Sparks have you fought that were shouting I’ll show them all and they’ll rue the day? This isn’t evidence that she can’t be a Spark; they’re reasons why you don’t like her.”

Her father snorted.

“Zeetha, that is extremely childish—”

“Yes. It is,” she said, pointedly.

They glared at each other.

“I think you are fond of this girl,” Klaus said, tersely. “It is clouding your judgement.”

Z eetha crossed the room in a few broad steps so she was standing what would have been nose-to-nose with him if she had another half a meter in height.

“If you can explain how held in contempt by those she works with means she can’t be a Spark, I will apologize to you in front of the entire population of Castle Wulfenbach, right now,” she said.

The moment stretched, the tension bearing down on everyone in the room like molten metal, crushing the breath from their lungs, heavier and heavier, a crushing weight.

The door to the house slammed open.

“Hokay, Herr Baron, Hy didn’t find anyvu-uhh…” The Jäger froze in the doorway, mid-step. Everyone stared at him. Very slowly, he began to back into the house. “Hy iz...interrupting…”

“No, private, it’s fine. Come in. You found no one?”

The soldier shook his head, nervously. He did not step back out in the shop, but did shuffle to the doorway.

“Smells fonny in dere,” he said, meekly. A wrench hit him full in the face, sending him tumbling back into the house.

“Ow!”

“Hyu in somebody’s house,” Günther snarled. “Dun go insultink pipple like dot!”

Zeetha shot him a bewildered look, which Günther ignored.

“Funny how?” Klaus asked, as if Günther had not abruptly assaulted his subordinate. The younger Jäger sat up, his eyes flicking nervously from Günther to Klaus.

“Um...Like machines?”

“Dey iz mechanics, hyu eediot, of cawz dey smell like machines!”

Klaus held up a hand. He took a breath, and turned to Zeetha. To her shock, he was smiling, albeit ruefully.

“This was not a test,” he said, “but has been very educational all the same. You are correct. I allowed my opinions to cloud my judgement.”

Z eetha tried to keep her smile cheeky, rather than the full blown delighted grin that was threatening to break free. He’d admitted he was wrong .

Hell, he was wrong! And she’d been right! About Spark stuff! And he was proud of her about it!

“How does it feel to have made a mistake?”

“Actually, I’m finding it rather refreshing,” Klaus said, brightly, and clapped her on the shoulder. “Very well, let us begin again. We can agree, at least, that the girl is involved in some capacity.”

“Definitely. Her house, her father’s workshop, her extremely bad day.” She knelt next to Agatha and held up Agatha’s hand for his inspection.

“Grease,” she said. “In the creases of her palms...and under her nails.”

“On her clothes, too,” Klaus noted, and eyed the soldier. “But none on him.”

Zeetha shrugged off her coat and draped it over Agatha’s still-sleeping form, almost absentmindedly.

“When you looked at the clank, you said its instructions were to find someone and return home. Did you see anything about what person? If we know what the Spark wanted, it might tell us who wanted it.”

“Then let us take a look.”

You mean you’ll look , Zeetha thought, but did not say, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Klaus pulled open the drum and drew out the instructional cards. Zeetha peered over his shoulder and sighed internally. Wax cylinders. Klaus could read the bumps and divots as easily as he could read a book, but Zeetha certainly couldn’t.

“Two someones,” Klaus corrected himself. “Instructions to find two men.”

“Interesting that it can do that without a picture,” Zeetha prompted.

“There are very detailed descriptions. Soldiers—this describes their uniforms, this one their physical appearance. Dark hair, mustache, beard—”

Zeetha’s head jerked up.

“Hey! She said she’d had her locket stolen by a couple of roughs; I bet he’s one of them! Günther!” she called, eagerly. “Check his pockets!”

“But he was here when we arrived,” Klaus said. “The machine didn’t get a chance to find him. Why would he go looking for someone he’d already robbed?”

“Mebbe he vuz goink to give it beck,” Günther said. He held up a trilobyte locket by the clasp. “Haz her name und de address on der back. Also sez dere is a revard.”

“Maybe he figured a reward would be easier and less messy than trying to pawn it,” Zeetha suggested. She saw Günther flick the locket open and go very, very still, but before she could think about it any further, Klaus spoke again.

“Now we’re just speculating. His purpose for being here is irrelevant; he may be the catalyst, but he isn’t the Spark.” Klaus rubbed his chin. “Maybe it is the girl, despite her...difficulties.”

Zeetha did not want to undermine her own point by admitting that she thought it more than improbable that Agatha was the Spark.

“Maybe it’s her father,” Zeetha said. “He’s a professional mechanic, but repairing clanks and building them during your first Spark fugue is very different—it could explain the clumsy design.”

“It could,” Klaus said. “Did he seem particular upset when Miss Clay told him what happened to her?”

“I didn’t actually see him; I never went inside. But he’s her father. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be upset about it. Wouldn’t you be, if someone threatened me?”

Klaus started, and for a breath of a moment an odd expression flicked across his face.

“Of course I would. I certainly wouldn’t allow it to pass without retaliation, either.”

His voice was very firm, very sincere, but Zeetha heard something hidden deep within, and realized the expression had been guilt.

Guilt about what? Zeetha could hardly believe he was lying, not after everything he’d done to keep her safe as a child. He’d never failed to protect her; had never failed to retaliate against any threat to her that he considered genuine.

An unpleasant memory uncurled in the back of her mind, a snake’s tongue flicking the there-and-gone image of tearful eyes behind large glasses and a small figure being led away to a waiting airship.

Maybe guilt over a time he’d gone too far.

Zeetha shook off the thought, hard. as she always did, and glanced back to Agatha. H er eyebrows sh o t up. “Günther?”

The Jäger was kneeling down next to Agatha, leaning over her, holding her hand. The moment Zeetha spoke, he shot to his feet.

“Hy vuz just checking,” he blurted out.

“Checking what?”

“If dey smell like each odder. Hyu know, de vay dey vould if dey vuz kissing or fighting.”

“And?”

“Hy can see de bruise starting on his face. Hy tink he grabbed her und she hit him vit sometink but dot vuz as far as it got.”

“That was probably just as we arrived,” Zeetha suggested.

Klaus smiled, his eyes gleaming.

“This will be...very interesting.” He put his hands behind his back. “I must finish consolidating the town’s takeover. Zeetha, you are in charge here. I want the girl and the clank on Castle Wulfenbach. I leave the coordination to you.”

Zeetha stood a little straighter.

“Can do,” she said. “I think we should bring the soldier, too. Better to catch a minion than miss the master.”

Klaus nodded, and there was a pleased smile on his lips.

“Very good.”

Oh, but it was a good day today. She gave her father a cheerful wave and turned back to the Jägers.

“Alright boys. Let’s get a move on.”

[lizasweetling]

comparatively, Bang's design is much more accommodating to cold weather

[aelloposchrysopterus]

Ballroom Dancing and Other Monsters

Bang hates fancy parties. She hates formal etiquette. She really hates anything where she can’t solve her problems with knives, ideally in someone else’s body. But she was going to suffer through — the horrors — prom because Violetta and Zeetha wanted to go, and she wasn’t going to be a lousy friend. (She also didn’t want Gil to go alone, which would have happened, since Agatha refused to go, Tarvek was going with Violetta, Xerxesphina was Colette’s date, and Zeetha had her mysterious boyfriend, and Klaus had told his son that he was going, whether he wanted to or not.)

Bang, above all, hates formal dresses. She’d called Tarvek to find an outfit for her. He’d thought she was going to try to kill him, but when it became clear that she’d kill him if he didn’t get her a dress, he made sure to find a very pretty one for her. It was a lovely cream with crimson beadwork on the bodice, spaghetti straps, an A-line full skirt, and a deep V-neck. She did have to admit that she felt pretty in it, even if it did make her vulnerable.

“Eep,” she yelped as Zeetha zipped it up.

“Thought you were invulnerable to pain,” Zeetha remarked.

“I’m not invulnerable to having all the air squeezed out of my chest!” Bang almost reached for a knife but stopped herself. Zeetha is a friend. She means well.

“Okay, Zeetha, try to murder me now,” Violetta laughed. She was in a deep purple off-the-shoulder dress with a tiered tulle skirt. Another Tarvek selection.

Zeetha obliged, yanking Violetta’s zipper up. She was wearing a golden mermaid dress that glistened in the light, with heels and bracelets the same hue of green as her hair. Tarvek hadn’t had any hand in her outfit; she’d picked it out herself. (He had almost been insulted that she hadn’t consulted him.)

“Are we ready to party?” Zeetha asked, rolling the r in a flamboyant manner. “Come on, the limo’s waiting outside!”

“The… limo?” Was not expecting this. Bang awkwardly laughed.

Zeetha rolled her eyes. “We’re picking up the boys in style, gals!” She grabbed Bang and Zeetha by the arms and yanked them outside, plopping them in the limo. “First stop, Tarvek!”

Tarvek was waiting for them when they got to his house. He hurriedly jumped into the limo — Bang could tell that he was worried about his father and his sister trying to stop him. His father was controlling to an extreme and his sister was… ill. She knew his home life wasn’t great, which was why she felt a twinge of guilt each time she stabbed him.

“Hey, Tarvek, if you need somewhere to stay tonight, my place is yours,” she said.

He jumped up in his seat. “Thanks! I don’t think I’ll need it, but thanks anyhow!” He was wearing a purple suit that matched Violetta’s dress exactly, with a purple and blue tie and a blue pocket square. The blue was Wulfenbach blue. Don’t say a thing. Let him pine on his own. He idly adjusted his cufflinks.

“So, Zeetha, who’s getting picked up next?” Violetta asked, fiddling with her amethyst necklace.

Zeetha smiled. “Gil, of course.”

“If he’s in anything other than green, blue, and purple, it’ll be a miracle,” Tarvek muttered.

“Oh, Tarvek!” Zeetha giggled. “Don’t worry. I made sure he got a suit. It’s black, with a cream shirt and a red tie and pocket square. It matches Bang perfectly!”

Tarvek breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you so much, Zeetha. A weight has truly been lifted off my shoulder.”

Bang suddenly realized that the beads on her dress were the same shade of red as Tarvek’s hair.

At Wulfenbach’s, Gil leapt out of the house in the suit Zeetha had bought for him, bounding into the car like an excitable puppy. He flopped down next to Bang, who noted that his new shoes were scuffed up already. Tarvek saw the exact same thing and tossed some black shoe polish towards Gil.

“You’ll need to open the window while applying that,” Tarvek said.

“You had this on you?” Gil asked, incredulous.

Tarvek shrugged. “A well groomed man is always prepared… your cuffs are sewn together, aren’t they?”

“It’s better that than Gil losing a cufflink again!” Zeetha retorted. “Remember when he did that in front of Queen Albia? The Baron was embarrassed for years.”

“Hey,” Gil rolled his eyes. “I’m not the one who showed up in traditional Skifandrian attire to the wedding of one of Albia’s daughters and nearly gave her a heart attack.”

The siblings looked like they were about to punch each other for a second, but the situation defused itself. Good, that’s one more time I won’t have to patch up Gil’s outfit tonight. Zeetha slouched back in her seat as Gil rested his right leg on his left.

“Who’s next?” Violetta eagerly asked.

Zeetha tensed. “I hate to do this,” she said, “but please keep this under wraps. He’s a Jager.”

“What?” Gil turned to his sister. “Dad’s going to kill you! And how did you let the prom committee to give a guest pass to a Jager?”

She twiddled her thumbs. “I pulled some strings, and Dad doesn’t need to know about it. For what it’s worth, Mom approved. He’s a nice guy, not any fangier than I am, just, y’know, immortal. I met him at the MMA gym.” She sighed. “His name’s Axel Higgs.”

The car was silent.

“Zeetha has a boyfriend! Good job, girl!” Violetta yelled.

The mysterious Axel Higgs was picked up outside a defense contractor’s office headquarters. His suit was a distinguished ecru, with a pale golden shirt and a green tie and pocket square. He carried himself with an air of dignity and refinement. A man of many hats.

Nobody said anything when he entered the limo. He smiled at them. No fangs. He sat next to Zeetha, who silently wrapped an arm around him.

“Should we, uh, do introductions?” Bang asked.

Zeetha grinned a fangy smile. “Yeah, sure! Do you want to start?”

“Okay,” Bang said. “I’m Bang Dupree. It’s short for Bangladesh. I met Zeetha last year, I think, at a karate tournament. Our match was a draw because the refs stopped us before one of us killed the other.”

“Gil Wulfenbach, short for Gilgamesh. I’m Zeetha’s long-lost twin brother. Our parents are divorced, so I’m stuck living with our dad, who’s some high-up in the defense industry.”

“Violetta Mondarev. I met Zeetha in our film class. We were watching The Princess Bride and we bonded over the inaccuracies in the fight scenes and the poisoning scene.”

“Tarvek Sturmvoraus, Violetta’s cousin. I’m not really all that close with Zeetha — I’m a friend of Gil’s and I’m close with my cousin, so I run into her a lot, but we’ve never really hung out.” Gil blushed at “friend”.

“Axel Higgs, Zeetha’s boyfriend and Jager. I wish I could tell you more about me, but that’s unfortunately classified information.”

Violetta and Tarvek were waltzing respectably well. He’s an excellent dancer — of course he is — and she’d learned from him. She was holding her skirt up just right, and when she twirled, it was glorious. Tarvek’s pince-nez gave them the general impression of being a relic from the Victorian era.

Colette and Xerxesphina were dancing quite well, too. They were enjoying the quick tempo of the Viennese waltz, taking advantage of it to twirl about the dance floor in a modified grapevine step. This was neatly avoiding the question of who was really in the lead.

Zeetha and Higgs were in such a close embrace that it was a surprise they were able to move at all, but moving they were. Their technique was subpar, particularly when compared to Tarvek’s meticulous footwork, but they were in tune with each other in a way that almost no other couple was.

Gil and Bang, on the other hand, were miserably failing at dancing. It wasn’t just the waltz. The saraband had been such a disaster that Tarvek had broken etiquette to whisk Bang off to dance with her while Violetta attempted to instill the basics in Gil. It didn’t help matters that Gil seemed to have two left feet.

“I hate this,” she whispered.

“I know,” he hissed back. “Could you at least try a bit harder?”

“Why should I keep trying when you’re the one who’s blundering the moves?”

Gil looked like he was ten seconds away from being arrested for attempted murder. “How about you think of this as a monster you want to kill?”

“Already trying,” she said. And it’s not working.

Later, they were all taking a break from dancing. Colette and Xerxesphina had gone off to “brush up their makeup”. More like “brush up on making out”. Tarvek was fixing his tie knot — his Eldredge had become asymmetrical, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. Gil and Higgs were enjoying discussing Jager history.

This meant that Bang, Violetta, and Zeetha were sitting at a table, drinking Arnold Palmers and munching on cake, chatting a little bit as they pleased to. Zeetha was a bit pissed that her brother was monopolizing her boyfriend (“especially since he’s got his own boyfriend here, too”), while Violetta was complaining about how sore her feet were (“with him, it’s always aesthetic over function, and it’s not like he’s ever tried dancing in these shoes”). Bang was just fiddling with her straw, listening to her friends.

She was also the first one to notice the monster when it came crashing through the ceiling.

“Guys. Look.” She gently shoved Violetta and Zeetha. “Is that just me, or is that something we can fight?”

“Oh yeah,” Zeetha’s eyes glazed over as their classmates began screaming. “Let’s go fight this thing.” She snatched one of Violetta’s shoes and snapped the heel off. “It’s improvised weapons time!”

Violetta took her other shoe and snapped its heel off, while Bang took an entire table leg. Zeetha passed the other heel to Violetta to grab an entire chair. Violetta complemented her heels by taking a hair pin out of a nearby dancer’s coiffure.

The Fighting Girls Tea and Cake Society started running after the monster, ready to take it down.

Maybe formal dances aren’t all so bad.

Read on AO3.

[inbarfink]

(original alignment chart created by @bedupolker)

[phoenixyfriend]

Link to the "most problematic" poll

[thisarenotarealblog]

i think zeetha and bang should kiss immediately