Fan Mail 1, Part 2: Morning Meeting Time

Mona

Mona wakes up alone again. This time, she’s a little more annoyed about it than yesterday. Then, she sees Tessa and Ophie watching what looks to be two red-headed girls, one very pretty, one kind of mannish with pointy elf ears, strolling through a desert.

“Hey, whatcha watching?”

Ophie shushes the Mistress, who responds with a huff, “You can at least pause it long enough to tell me?”

“The Queen’s season. Shush.”

“Ophelia,” the elder sea elf states, pausing the episode, “while I thank you for letting me watch some of my sister’s time on the Hotel while Mona slept, please be polite. And I would like some migas for breakfast.”

The maid grumbles as Mona takes her spot on the couch. “So, what did I miss?”

“We started with Week 2. Daphne took my sister to a video game like cuttlefish monster fight, Josie took her to a club to fight bunny yakuza goons, and Tina took her to prom in a disaster of a date. Scarlet made a facsimile of home and just started her tour.”

Mona squeezes Tessa’s hand; she’s glad the former teacher allows her to do so. “You handling it okay?”

“Yeah. May not handle the back half of this date well, if Ophelia told me correctly, but I’m okay. She looks like she is generally doing better than from when I knew him, and that is despite the hag giving her a tormenting transformation.”

“The hag? Calypso didn’t look like a hag.”

“Calypso wasn’t the first Host.”

Mona sits and thinks about the implications that Hosts can change. Ophelia calls them to breakfast by the time the couple on screen get out of the car for something called barbecue. Mona’s egg whites are different this time. Instead of just spinach, there is onions and peppers and tomatoes and salsa and tortilla chips and some chunks of some kind of meat? She takes a bite. It’s pretty good.

Tessa is certainly enjoying her eggs and stuff, “My compliments, Ophelia.” Tessa is looking strangely at the Sumiku mug, filled with her coffee, but starts to drink it anyways.

The maid curtsies, “You are quite welcome, Auntie.”

Mona pouts a little. Ophelia doesn’t curtsy for me. She looked so cute doing it!

After breakfast, the three of them finish the episode Tessa and Ophelia already started. Watching the male redhead (That outfit hid the fact that the mannish girl was actually a guy!) turn into a mannish lady was... interesting. Watching the mannish redhead and Daphne get jilling off lessons from the hot redhead was... interesting in a different way. Mona is squirming through the last bits of it.

Tessa, teary-eyed, says, “Thank you, Mona, for letting me monopolize the date like I had.”

Mona wraps her up in a side hug, “You’re welcome, Tessa. You gonna be okay?”

“In time. I needed to know. Now, next time, we’ll do something more to your liking. Shall we go downstairs? The meeting is to start soon.”

So, Mona and Tessa head downstairs. Everyone is in the throne room. Tina is checking in with Tegan. Andromeda and Kevin are trying to pull Tessa aside. Gaia is muscly again and has big clawed hands, powerful looking teeth, and a big white streak going down the middle of her hair. Mona takes her seat. Craig stomps forward, only for the Host to appear, directing him back.

“Good morning, Mona, contestants, and perverts from across the multiverse. It’s Day 6. Our last day before our first challenge. Shall we take a look at the leaderboard? My bonny bunny?”

Tina bounces from by Tegan to beside her Host. With a semi-sarcastic salute, she states, “Sure!”

The expected illusion is summoned, with the updated leaderboard:

Mistress Mona currently has 540 BP! Good job!

• Gaia Level 3 57 XP +54 BP
• Kevin Level 3 56 XP +5 BP
• Andromeda Level 3 36 XP +135 BP
• Tessa Level 3 33 XP +95 BP
• Tegan Level 3 25 XP +128 BP
• Craig Level 1 3 XP +10 BP

“As you can see...” Tyalangan begins

“Honey badger don’t care!” Gaia interrupts, laughing.

“As you can see, Gaia’s lead is now down to one point. Tessa bumped up a spot in the ranking from her date. And everyone, save Craig, are officially safe from elimination in the challenge, unless the party fails.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Craig growls.

Tyalangan seems to just ignore Craig’s demand, transitioning to, “Now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you this morning. We have fan-mail.”

Andromeda’s hand goes up, asking, “Fan-mail?”

“Yes, fan-mail. People from other seasons or from the audience, wanting to reach out. You may get advice, you may get jeers and sneers. It’s a Harem Hotel tradition. You just need to follow the procedure. I’m sure it will be worth your while. You might even get presents.”

The arcanist android arches an eyebrow, “Procedure?”

Tyalangan gets on her earpiece. “Daphne, will you report to Mona’s throne room? You have fan-mail.”

The dungeon mermaid teleports in, as excited as she could possibly be. “MAIL?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

The Host hands her fish-wife a letter. The mermaid reads it, doing her little wiggle dance the whole time:

Dear Daphne,

It is a shame you and Josie did not enjoy the first week of my season. Josie, as you know, was my favorite on your season while I watched it. And though Tina was second, you were absolutely my third.

It is my first, and so far only, season, so there are bound to be some rough spots. I intended my point scheme to incentivize more sex between contestants and the master to distract the audience from the lack of abject cruelty, something I would think a person who was on your season would appreciate. This, of course, led to much more rapid point gains than I expected, but I course-corrected as a competent host should, and sought the audience's approval while doing so. I have, of course, watched many a season of Harem Hotel, and many of the ways I do things are a reflection of my views on them.

If you continue your reviews, as seems likely, perhaps Tina would enjoy my season more. Or perhaps Josie will enjoy things more in the second week. Also, as a helpful hint, humans very much do not have the same appreciation for the same foods that mermaids do. You may want to be more careful with the flavors of potions you gift out to them.

Sincerely,

Shar

While Daphne continues to celebrate finally getting a piece of fan-mail, Tyalangan explains the procedure, “So, first you read the letter, then you talk to the invisible cameras about your initial reactions, then write a thank you letter later. Dancing is optional.”

Daphne is all shark-toothed smiles and joy, “Hi, Shar! Thank you for your reply to my review of your season! I understand that first week jitters are a thing and that your season started in a time where the ‘dark seasons’ were much more prominent. I certainly do appreciate a ****, gentler season filled with big egg sac ladies having sexy times. And I do love your season on Harem Hotel Hereafter. Soooo many fun sex scenes, even in Week One! I blame Cow-guy’s transcribing for a lot of my complaints; he didn’t do a great job of arranging all those scenes for the website.”

The mermaid continues, “I’ll be sure to review your next week soon and I’m sure that Tina will help me.”

Mona watches Tina trying to sneak out of the morning meeting before Daphne grabs her to review the second week right now.

“Anyways, I understand that humans have bad tastes in lots of things. Who all did I give fun potion flavors to? I think it was just Emi. Oh, if Emi writes to you, remind her about her mermaid potions! She should use them! I’ll do a better job in appealing to bad human tastes, maybe. Beloved, can I go frame this letter up in my room now?”

Tyalangan nods and Daphne teleports away. The Host hands off the letters, saying, “And, with that, go forth and enjoy your fan-mail.”

Gaia

Gaia heads out to the prairie section of the garden. She stretches out in the wildflowers and soaks in some sun. Her letters are in her inventory, as well as some meat sticks as a “snack.” Honey badgers are carnivores, unfortunately. At least meat sticks don’t look recognizable as innocent animals.

The paper of the first letter feels nice and fancy. Maybe it’s from recycled paper? Gaia can’t tell. The wax seal, deep red with an embellished A, gives Gaia further pause. Did they use a biodegradable wax? Still, she reads:

Hey,

I'm Riley. Contestant in a different season, not yours. I'm writing because someone mentioned you and something about your situation got stuck in my head. I'd rather tell you that upfront than pretend I'm just being friendly.

The Malar thing. That's what stuck.

I'm not going to tell you what to think about it. You've clearly already been thinking about it, which is the whole point. People who are all-in on something don't usually start questioning whether it makes sense. So the fact that you're asking means part of you already has an answer and the rest of you is still arguing about it. I know what that feels like. I spent sixteen years being really sure about something that turned out to be me holding onto a story because letting go of it felt worse than keeping it. It wasn't. Letting go was better. But I had to get there myself and nobody could talk me into it, so I'm not trying to talk you into anything either. I just wanted to let you know, you're not alone.

How are things with Mona?

Riley

P.S. I looked up Malar. Hunt god who treats his followers as prey. Fun guy. Not my cup of tea, though.

This Riley letter is... confusing. Have I been questioning my relationship with Malar? I don’t think I have. “I mean, I have been trying to be nice to the nice blasphemers, because they seem like good fits and I will win them over with niceness over meanness and they have been generally supportive of me. Maybe that’s what you meant by asking questions?”

“What were you holding? I haven’t watched much of the show. Have I seen your season?”

“Things with Mona I think are fine? She’s a sweet kid. She’s trying hard and I want to support her. Also, it was fun to make her squirm under me in bed.”

Something about that post script strikes her. She mulls over the line “Hunt god who treats his followers as prey.” Why does that feel familiar? Is this Riley saying that MALAR was talking to me the morning when I threw up as a kitty?

On that uncomfortable note, she moves to the next letter. The gold foil might be recyclable. The actual paper has the texture of recycled paper, which is appreciated. Gaia reads:

Gaia,

The way you have adapted to your new setting is wonderful, and I am enjoying seeing you learn more about it, and ways that nature and civilization can coexist, and support one another. I hope that you find that the problem was never humanity, it was the evil, purely extractive nature of capitalism. I also hope you come to appreciate and hopefully follow other nature gods and goddesses. The one you have chosen is misunderstood where you come from, and views you with nothing but contempt. I will not be trying to sway you one way or another, but do know that the Host has already had to threaten your god once to stop him from devouring you. I would be very sad if you had to be replaced because he decided to risk it anyway.

May the pantheon guide you,

Aurelia

The last bit of that letter makes Gaia feel unsettled. That was just a weird dream, wasn’t it? I was a deer and a big scary cat was there and things hurt and then Tyalangan booped it in the nose and then I was still a deer. That wasn’t real, right?

So, her voice is a little shaky as she speaks, “Hey, hi. Thank you for... for the letter. It was nice?”

“Ah, yeah, all the natural stuff here is so cool. I like that it seems like the people here try harder to take care of the environment. They still have work to do, though.”

“And... I’ll... I... I’ll think about the rest. Yeah.”

Gaia hopes that the next letter will be less scary. On the negative end, it’s on the most offensive stationary. Gaia reads, hoping the contents is better:

Gaia,

We may not seem to have much in common, seeing as I'm an angel, and a former vice principal, whereas you're a druid who used to be an eco-terrorist. However, the thing we have in common is a sense of moral certainty. It's something I've mostly lost, and for you it seems losing your humanity caused you to be less violent with yours, but it's still something we both share. I say all of this because I do not want you to repeat my mistakes.

For one, you worship a deity that doesn't even follow your values, given they're a god of predators, and that you seemed to only follow because of how much you hated humanity on your Earth. Given that one of those problems has been solved, it seems like at this point you be switching to another nature based deity, preferably one isn't as evil or murderous as your current one. I refuse to name him because my season has taught me a lot about the value of names, and that in some cases, refusing to name something can deny it power.

For another, humans are part of nature as well. That is a lesson I've learned the hard way from being stuck in concrete bunker for multiple weeks and keenly missing said nature. I bring this up because often moral certainty allows one to ignore pesky thoughts and facts that detract from the course of action that one wants to take for other reasons.

With all that said, Gaia, you've already demonstrated a much greater degree of kindness towards your season's mistress than I had toward my season's master for a long time, and done more to gently introduce her to the world of sex than most others in your season. In addition, you've shown the ability to be very kind to even prickly contestants like Tegan, while still calling out those who mistreat Mona like Craig did. That nuanced, kind part of yourself should be the one you cultivate going forwards, not the overly confident side that thinks it is always in the right.

Sincerely,

Janessa Smith

Another letter telling me to abandon Malar. What is with everyone telling me to stop?

“Thank you for the letter! I’ve never talked to an angel before! I appreciate the kind words at the end. I’ll think about the rest.”

Suddenly feeling quite cold, Gaia pads her way out of the garden. Fan-mail is scary.

Tessa

Summer is in the Summer Room as Tessa enters. She’s changing the sheets.

“Hi, Auntie.”

“Summer, do you mind giving me some space? I have fan-mail, apparently.”

Her niece curtsies, replying, “Of course, Auntie. I will give you the room. Let me know when you’re done.”

As Summer leaves, Tessa finds a seat by the fireplace and looks at her pile. The first envelope is sealed in red wax, a stylized HH embedded into it. The old-fashioned nature of it amuses her. She carefully pops the seal, unfurls the letter, and begins to read:

Dear Tessa,

Andy mentioned you and I asked him to pass along my address. I hope that isn't presumptuous. I wanted to write because you have an English literature degree and I have an Archive and I thought those two facts should probably be introduced to each other.

I've been building the collection since early in my season. It started as research and became something else, which I think is how the best libraries happen. We have a reasonable selection of poetry, though I suspect there are gaps you would find obvious that I would not, because my reading has been more systematic than intuitive and lyric poetry in particular requires a kind of intuitive approach that I am still developing. I would genuinely welcome recommendations. Specific ones, if you're willing. Not genres or movements but individual collections that you think are essential and that I might have missed.

I read Keats recently. I had read him before but I read him again after a conversation about mortality that turned out to be more relevant to my situation than I initially understood, and it landed differently the second time. I find that happens a lot here. The same text means something different depending on what you've just been through.

I also wanted to say, because Andy told me about your situation: finding someone you've been looking for and then not quite having them yet is a strange kind of in-between to be in. I don't have a useful comparison from my own life, but I understand the experience of being in a room with someone and not knowing yet how to be with them. That gap usually closes. It just requires time that feels uncomfortable while you're in it.

I hope you find the time here.

If you want to talk books, I would like that very much.

Claire Freeman

P.S. I have one copy of a first edition that I found in the Archive and cannot identify. The title page is missing. The poetry is in a form I don't recognize and possibly from a world that isn't mine. If you wanted a puzzle, it's available.

Tessa is bemused. She remembers the little blonde librarian from the bit of the season they watched that one evening. The idea of her getting an archive sounds interesting. She gathers her thoughts, and begins, “I will certainly provide some recommendations over a reply letter. The idea of an inter-harem book club sounds delightful, if we could agree on the book. My time in the library here makes that seem like a difficult task. I once searched for a copy of Keat’s translation of the Aeneid (my sibling had a habit of gifting epic poetry to me and I was feeling nostalgic) and ran into copies of it from twenty different dimensions, all slightly different.”

“Speaking of my sibling, I spent twenty years chasing after the ghost of him to find that she is someone very different. While I have only a few glimpses of her suffering, it is enough to drive me to tears if I dwell on them. Her current life baffles me in so many ways. But, we will always be family and we are both working it out. Thank you for your advice.”

The next letter is in gold foil. Another amusing way to mail a letter. Tessa opens it and starts to read:

Tessa,

I am sure you are of many minds about this experience. Finding your brother. Finding out that she’s actually your sister. Having your life turned inside out and backwards so that she is your sister again but in a different way. Trust that our hearts are with you as you sort this out. You are also leveling in one of my favorite classes, so I have a special eye out for you.

I hope you do well,

Aurelia

“Last night and this morning helped, but thank you for your sympathy. I miss him. I miss her. I wish she would just let us work everything out together right now. The show is likely preventing that; she probably doesn’t want to show more favoritism than she already has by bringing me here. I don’t ever think that I will understand everything she went through. But, I will try.”

The paper for the next letter is plain. The calligraphy is fluid, striking. Tessa reads:

Tessa,

As someone who recently got transformed into an elf, and whose very used to dealing with confusing multiple sets of memories, your situation spoke to me quite a bit. That you feel like all this Harem Hotel stuff is trivial compared to fighting a greater threat is also something I have experience with, given the world my elf memories comes from is often under threat by dark forces. With that in mind, I ask you to remember just two things, given I know you have a lot on your plate.

The first is that, like it or not, you are stuck in Harem Hotel and should make the most of it. That obviously means you need to ensure you're scoring well, but more than that, do not let the other contestants forget who you are. You are part of a harem, and that in practice means you're part of a team. Like any other endeavor with others, ensuring the rest of the team likes you is critical.

The second is that your prior identity, even if it is no longer who you are, may still come up. After all, Mona primarily remembers you as her English teacher, not as an elf. Hence, you should try to remember that part of your life enough that you can draw upon it when dealing with Mona, or for that matter other contestants who were also former students. It may not be the bulk of who you are anymore, but it's still an important part.

If you keep these things in mind, I think it'll work out. I speak from experience when I say fighting eldritch beings is often easier than it seems to be, especially when you can keep those with you motivated for the fight ahead.

Sincerely,

Jamina Lightbringer

Now I kind of wish that I let Summer stay; she might have a better idea about the implications of what this letter means. Need to rely on some context clues, given that the only Jamina I have heard of was in that dream challenge the kids mentioned briefly, and that person’s form was not that of an elf. Maybe her last transformation round changed her to that?

“Your letter is certainly intriguing, Jamina. I am curious about your experience with your elven memories. Are they just a construct of the show? Are they real? Or, potentially more terrifying, did the show make them a reality? If one of the latter two is the case, we should exchange some notes. Your time on the battlefield may be invaluable to us.”

Tessa sits back and thinks before she starts to write replies. They took the effort to write. I should at least write them back.