Pt. 080.b — Fan Mail Interlude 2

FOR THE GIFTS - I INCLUDED CONCEPT ART TO MATCH THE GIFT TO THE GIRL. IT'S ALL NON CANON.

---

With the staff finished, Verena drew the first contestant stack toward her.

“Evelyn.”

The first envelope was plain. She opened it with swift efficiency.

—-----------------------------------------------

Dear Evelyn,

I respect you greatly, as you have a level of control over your emotions that I've rarely seen in anyone. More than that, you have immense power from both being a telepath, and a CEO, but you never seem to abuse it. Assuming I understand how your telepathy works, you could control people's minds, but choose not to. Heck, you could read people's minds and ruin their lives through blackmail, but you don't do that either.

I say all of that as someone who used to abuse their power. The whole reason I'm where I'm at on my season is because of how I abused my power over the master. I bring all this up because as someone who used to be a man who abused his position, I suspect I know a little bit about what makes the Architect tick. And I just want to say...

You should try getting into his head. You should use the full extent of your power to make that man suffer the way he made people like Van suffer. To dive into his head, but to rip it apart, and traumatize him, not just because he deserves it, but because I think it could break him. Someone who pretends to be above emotions will lose it all when they're shown that just isn't true.

Sincerely,

Janessa Smith

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Evelyn lowered the page. “First, one correction. I cannot control minds.”

Janessa was not present to receive it, but Evelyn delivered the statement with the same precision she would have used across a conference table.

“I can read thoughts under the appropriate conditions. I can perceive emotion. I can enter memories. I can exert psychic force. I cannot insert a belief into someone’s head and make it theirs, nor can I simply decide what another person will do.”

Cassie looked toward her. “Probably worth clearing up.”

“Yes.” Evelyn tapped one finger against the page. “As for the rest, I understand the argument.” Her tone had not warmed.

“If entering the Architect’s mind becomes necessary to stop him, I will do what the situation requires. That may be invasive. It may hurt him. It may cause damage I would prefer not to cause.”

She folded the page along its crease. “But ‘he deserves to suffer’ is not sufficient justification for me to use telepathy as torture.”

Evelyn continued. “If I enter his mind to prevent him from killing people, that is an act with a purpose beyond his pain. If I enter it because I want him to suffer, then his suffering has become the purpose.”

She set the letter down. “I am not interested in becoming the equal of the evil we face.”

Van watched her for a moment, then gave a small nod.

Evelyn accepted her second envelope without comment.

—-----------------------------------------------

Ms. Cross,

We are a little further along our version of this strange trail than you. I imagine not that much further, but far enough. We had our first challenge a few days ago and the game has done its sometimes weird, sometimes wicked work since then.

We received letters of advice before our first challenge, so, when our Mistress, an agreeable if academically average girl named Mona, asked us to pay it forward, I hope to do the task justice.

Life on our set is strange. The Host is my long lost sister (who disappeared without a trace as my brother 20 years ago, by my reckoning). Most of the staff are her wives, live-in girlfriends, and children. I think I am slowly falling in love with a woman who spent a century as a sex toy coffee table? Again, life is strange here.

So, my first bit of advice is to be prepared for more oddities. What you have experienced so far is just the beginning. The game ramps up every round. I am sure that I will look nostalgically back to where I am now by the time our game is over as a simpler time.

From what little my sister has shown me about your season, it is a rhyme of ours. We are to slay an eldritch... something at the end of our season to save our world. I understand that your world is experiencing the middle of an invasion of horrors akin to that. To sit in the discomfort of knowing what needs to be done without knowing how is uncomfortable. One of the girls here, Andromeda, spent quite a long time in the library the first week, looking for answers. The biggest clue we got for more details so far came from a video game in the Hotel arcade. I am sure your answers are also somewhere in your Hotel. Look for them to come in unexpected places.

Also, work on combat skills, not just rescue operations. You are being set up to be the tip of the spear against your foe, not the ones helping to clear the battlefield of civilians. Act like it. To help, I asked one of my sister-in-laws to forge you a sword. I don’t know much about the craft, but it feels well balanced and sturdy. May it serve you well.

Finally, forgive the sign-off. Mona gets to attach a line to our signature, including, apparently, our favorite dinosaur?

The cock is crowing; I must be going...

Tessa The sexier sister My favorite dinosaur is the pterodactyl

—-------------------------------------------------

Evelyn reached the last line without so much as a blink.

Cassie squinted at her. “Nothing?”

“I am choosing restraint.”

Producer X leaned toward Evelyn with interest. She ignored him while Verena opened the long, narrow case attached to the letter.

Inside lay an estoc. The blade was narrow and rigid, built for the thrust rather than the cut. Its metal carried the pale, clean sheen of mithril. The hilt was practical rather than ornate. Verena picked it up, examined the weapon once, then extended it toward Evelyn hilt-first. That earned Verena several looks.

She returned them calmly. “Ms. Cross already possesses abilities considerably more dangerous than a sword.”

Evelyn tested the weapon’s balance with one controlled movement, keeping the point well away from everyone around her.

“Tessa was correct,” she said. “It is well made.” She looked down the length of the blade. “And apparently ‘tip of the spear’ has been interpreted literally.”

Van smiled. “Do you know how to use one?”

“Not to the standard I would require before carrying it into combat.” Evelyn returned the estoc to its case. “So I will learn.” She placed the closed case beside her. “Thank you, Tessa.”

The next stack belonged to Claire. “Claire.”

Claire took the first envelope.

—----------------------------------------------

Dear Claire,

We don't have a lot in common. You're a beloved superheroine who knows exactly what her world needs from her, despite being so young. I'm a nereid, which means I'm someone who destroys society, not one who protects it.

However, I know a thing or two about dealing with someone like the Architect. As powerful as he is, at the end of the day, he's someone who relies a lot on technology, and an organization to keep him safe, and to project power. Those same things are complex, and have a lot of parts, many of which I'd bet even he has lost track of. You can destroy so many things by just removing a single screw, or making a gear be out of tune, at an inopportune moment.

The other thing about men like the Architect? They will throw such a fit when you break something they find valuable. Men like that always care more about their things than the people around them, and will become such a whiny brat when you break their favorite toys. You can make him have impotent rage if you break enough of his things, and he has so many of those things to break.

Sincerely, Castelilise

—-------------------------------------------------

Claire read the final paragraph again. “I think I like her.”

Cassie smiled. “Because she told you to break things?”

Claire set the letter on the table. “Because she made sabotage sound like community service.”

“She’s right about the first part, though. We keep talking about him like the only meaningful target is the Architect himself.”

Claire continued. “But armies need supply chains. Laboratories need equipment. Communications need relays. If he has production sites, transport systems, power sources, storage, command infrastructure—any of it—we don’t need to beat all of it head-on.”

Fiona nodded. “Break the parts that are exposed and vulnerable.”

“Exactly.”

Katherine gave Claire an approving glance. “Now you are thinking like a saboteur.”

Claire smiled. “I’m going to choose to take that as a compliment.”

“It was.”

Verena passed her the second envelope.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Claire,

A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I have also been kidnapped by a version of the show. The experience has been interesting, in the way I imagine that an art house porno is sometimes interesting. I got turned into a sex toy robot, right at the beginning. Losing my sense of touch, outside of erogenous zones, was strange. I also got a transformation to slowly return my sense of touch, which I have been diligent in using.

Your world is one where people have super powers. That is fascinating. Telekinesis seems to be useful. One of us picked up a version of that ability, though I haven’t seen her use it; I imagine your version is much more potent. Your transformation also seems to be a useful one, should you practice with it. Our Host seems to have a similar transformation. She literally treats her hair as third and fourth hands on occasion, feeding herself as both her real hands are busy with other tasks. It is quite efficient.

You have apparently spent much time in your Hotel’s library, researching other seasons. May I provide two conflicting concepts to mull over? One, perhaps researching this “The Architect” would be a better use of your time. Knowledge is power, and knowing your final foe is infinitely more useful than knowing other games’ rulesets; from what we have observed, the game changes too much from one season to another for in-depth analysis of the seasons to be especially fruitful. Two, I understand the urge to throw yourself at a problem, but the game is primarily a social one, not an academic one. It may behoove you to either turn research time into a group project or limit your time doing so? Our world is also under threat. Our Host gave me an image of the thing, which haunted the nightmares I had the last night I was capable of sleeping. I threw myself trying to find answers in the library, which ended up isolating me somewhat. Spend some optional time with the others.

Esme (who runs a card shop on our amenities floor) recommended this game called Wai-Fu Quest: The Living Card Game? I included a copy for you. It’s like Ascension, from what the box description says. Enjoy.

Forgive the last bits. My Mistress asked us to include our favorite dinosaur (for some reason) and added the tag.

Andromeda Saloman Mona’s bestest sex robot My favorite dinosaur is the Runic Armasaur, a 2/5 dinosaur with “Whenever an opponent activates an ability of a creature or land that isn’t a mana ability, you may draw a card” for 1GG. It’s not quite efficient enough for Vintage, but still a fun effect.”

—------------------------------------------

Claire lowered the letter. “That one hurt more.”

Evelyn lifted an eyebrow.

“Not the robot part.” Claire tapped the page. “The library part.”

“You have been spending less time alone in it,” Evelyn said.

“I know. Which is probably why I can admit she has a point without getting defensive.”

Cassie leaned toward Lizzy. “Growth.”

Claire pointed at her. “I heard that.”

Verena picked up the box attached to Andromeda’s letter, glanced over the exterior, and passed it directly to Claire.

The box read: WAI-FU QUEST: THE LIVING CARD GAME

Below the title, painted fantasy versions of nine familiar figures stood against a burning horizon. Van occupied the center in stylized adventurer’s armor. Around him stood the eight contestants.

Claire froze over the cover. “Oh, come on!”

Lizzy leaned closer. “Is that us again?”

Cassie craned her head above her black box. “This thing! What do I have to do to get rid of it?”

Claire turned the box over. The back described a cooperative campaign. A villainous artificer had risen with an army of machines, beasts, and enchanted soldiers, threatening to conquer the land. Van and the Eight Hearts of Destiny had to combine their abilities, recruit allies, gather equipment, and sabotage the artificer’s war machine before confronting him in his fortress.

Claire read the phrase again. “The Eight Hearts of Destiny.”

Producer X nodded appreciatively. “Strong title.”

Fiona looked offended on principle. “That sounds like something you approved.”

An absurd grin crossed his face. “I did! Coss dimensional merchandising is big money, and we need a fall back in case this season flops.”

Claire opened the box. Inside, the character cards made the problem worse. Each of them had been translated into fantasy-game language without actually becoming difficult to recognize. Claire’s card featured living red hair curling around a sword and spellbook. Fiona stood amid shattered stone with a shout rendered as concentric rings. Cassie held fire in both hands. Naomi’s card showed pale energy drawing toward her palms. Mara cast layered illusions across a battlefield. Lizzy stepped halfway through a castle wall. Katherine wore three different faces reflected in broken mirrors. Evelyn stood behind a crown of psychic light.

Van’s card simply read: THE WAYWARD HERO

He took the card from Claire and studied it. “I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Of course you’re the main character,” Lizzy said.

Claire found the villain deck. The artificer on the first card wore black and gold armor, surrounded by mechanical soldiers and surgical-looking constructs.

Cassie leaned in. “Subtle.”

“No,” Claire said. “But maybe useful.” She tapped Andromeda’s letter against the game box.

“A game about us fighting a version of the thing we’re already supposed to fight.”

Katherine’s eyes moved to the rules booklet. “With mechanics written by people who know more about the Hotel than we do.”

Claire caught the implication. “So we play it.” She tucked the box under one arm. “Thank you, Andromeda.”

“Claire’s correspondence is concluded.”

Naomi’s stack followed.

“Naomi.”

Naomi remained inside Mara’s black illusion, but stepped as close to the correspondence table as the box allowed.

Verena gestured and the letter flitted through the air to Naomi’s hand.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

Dear Naomi,

It may be odd to get mail from a master in another season, but there's a very important lesson I think you should learn: There are people who deserve to feel the wrath of your power. I know you're scared of hurting others, and only very recently have been able to explore your power safely, but...

You've seen a creature that deserves your touch in the Alter. And if you got the opportunity, you should bear hug the Architect, and not let go. Absorb everything from him. I say this because I worry you will use your power too conservatively when your world, not just your teammates, needs you to use them as aggressively as possible. I look forward to when you do let loose on those who deserve it.

Sincerely, Felix

—-----------------------------------------------

Naomi read it once, then again more slowly. “I understand what he means.” Her fingers tightened slightly on the paper. “For most of my life, using my power aggressively was the thing I was trying not to do.”

No one interrupted. Naomi took in Fiona, Claire, and the others. “That has changed. A little. If I have to use it against an Alter, or the Architect, I will. I’m not going to promise that I’ll enjoy it. And I’m not going to decide that hurting someone is safe just because I think they deserve it.”

Fiona gave a small nod. Naomi rubbed her thumb along the paper. “But he’s right about one thing. Being afraid of my power cannot be the same as refusing to use it.” She set the letter aside.

Verena sent her the second envelope.

—---------------------------------------

Naomi,

Greetings, from one noble raised in a warrior culture to another, though your definitions of nobility and warrior culture may be different from mine.

My name is Ootah Heart-Taker, twelfth in line for the Duchy of Teleptafelya. I have been training for all of my life to fight and defend the innocents of my mother’s land, so I understand the duties of your “Empowered” people. You lot are from a world under siege from a hostile force. Your power seems like magic to me and I am just a big, sexy girl with a big, sexy ax, so I will admit to not understanding all of the nuance. I also do not understand your concern over modesty. With your transformation, you should swear a vow of nudity to an appropriate deity. The power from a god in exchange for your power always being at your maximum control seems like a win-win. Several of my aunts would recommend Eilistraee. Attached is a prayer book to Her, with a translation in Common if you do not speak Elvish. If I understand it, several members of staff on your set are Elves, should you wish to confirm the translation is accurate and / or join them in prayer.

May your power be so renowned that your foes flee at the sight of you,

Ootah Heart-Taker Mona’s sexy orc fiancée My favorite dinosaur is the Colossal Dreadmaw

—-------------------------------------------------

After Naomi finished reading, Cassie peered over the top of the other black box. Naomi met her eyes.

Cassie said, “I’m not touching that one.”

“Thank you.”

Verena lifted the small book that had accompanied the letter. Its cover was dark blue, worked with silver, with a translated edition bound alongside the original text.

She floated it directly to Naomi, who took it with both hands.

Naomi opened the cover, read a few lines, then closed it again. “I don’t think I’m going to swear a vow of nudity.”

Cassie snorted and Naomi’s mouth curved despite herself. “But she sent this sincerely.” She ran one thumb over the silver work on the cover. “So I’ll keep it.”

Lyra inclined her head approvingly from the dais.

Naomi faced the nearest camera. “Thank you, Ootah.”

Mara’s name came next. “Mara.”

Her nightgown brushed the marble as she took the first envelope.

—----------------------------------------------------

Dear Mara,

For the most part, you are an amazing contestant, in terms of caring for her teammates, and the master. However, I worry that you aren't ready for what's coming in terms of violence. This Architect figure will not stop until he is killed, that much is clear. While your illusions aren't directly violent, they will be very useful for distracting him, or his forces, for what's coming up. Will you be ready to use them in that manner, when the time comes?

Sincerely, Jamina Lightbringer

—-------------------------------------------

Mara read the question again before lowering the page. “Yes.” The answer came without hesitation. She held the letter loosely at her side. “I don’t like hurting people. I don’t think I ever will. But my illusions have never only been for comfort.”

She looked up. “I’ve used them for evacuations, misdirection, crowd control, concealment. If the Architect or his forces are trying to kill people, then distracting them, misleading them, splitting their attention, or making them waste attacks on something that isn’t there is part of protecting everyone else.”

Jamina’s question had not offended her. If anything, it had made her sit a little straighter. “I don’t need to become someone who enjoys violence to be ready for it.”

The second letter floated into Mara’s waiting hand.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Mara

Hi. I’m Jenny Ackley. How are you? I’m still trying to adjust to all of this.

Nights are the worst. Some of that is that I was turned into a dryad. I know I need a lot of sunlight. Most of it is the nightmares. I know they are irrational and he can’t hurt me anymore, but they are still there. Advice?

Jenny Mona’s former coffee table friend My favorite dinosaur is the stegosaurus

Present: A potted cherry tree, trimmed and shaped into a bonsai tree style.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Mara’s face changed before she reached the gift line. Not dramatically. The warmth simply went quieter. “Nights are hard because your body doesn’t care that you know you’re safe.”

The hall stayed quiet. Mara held the letter in both hands. “You can know something is over and still wake up carrying it with you. That doesn’t make the fear irrational. It means some part of you learned from the danger and is still fighting to keep you safe.” She squared her shoulders and gave Van a brief glance. “That means you haven’t been beaten yet.”

“If you have someone you trust, tell them what helps before you go to sleep. Light on. Door open. Someone nearby. Someone not nearby. Whatever makes the room easier to come back to when you wake up.”

She paused. “And if the nightmare comes anyway, don’t feel like you failed some test.” Her voice softened. “You woke up. You came back. Start there.”

Verena lifted the small ceramic pot that had accompanied the letter. A young cherry tree rose from it in miniature, its trunk carefully shaped and its branches trimmed into a balanced canopy.

Verena passed it directly to Mara, who took the pot with both hands. The tree was small enough to rest against her forearms.

“Oh,” That single sound carried more feeling than anything she had said so far. She touched one leaf with the tip of her finger. “This is beautiful.” Mara addressed the nearest camera. “Jenny, thank you.”

Her hand stayed lightly against the little tree. “And if you write again, tell me how the nights are going.”

Katherine’s black-and-gold envelope was next. The first envelope was black, edged in organic gold and sealed with Aurelia’s silver-winged A.

Katherine broke the seal.

—------------------------------------------------------

Katherine,

You are quite the mystery! You should thank the show-runner for their help in that endeavor. If you can find them. They’ve done more than you can know to help keep you an intriguing mystery. Sharing just enough to keep us from losing interest, keeping everything else back so that solving it remains worthwhile in the face of waiting even longer for answers to be revealed. I gave Fiona some advice about the show. You seem to already grasp it, but a good conversation with a peer is its own reward, is it not?

Intrigued, Aurelia

—------------------------------------------------------------------

Katherine lowered the letter slowly. “That is either very flattering or a threat.”

“Those are not mutually exclusive,” Evelyn said.

“No. They rarely are.”

Verena reached for the accompanying package, but she didn’t hand it over. Verena examined the exterior, then the contents. The pause lasted half a beat too long.

Producer X noticed anyway. “So?”

“I’m sorry. No.”

Katherine’s eyes moved from Verena to the package. “No?”

Verena closed it again. “This would provide information directly relevant to the conditions of your transformation.”

“Dossiers requires you to discover the target without significant assistance. Even revealing the physical characteristics of this object would narrow your search.”

Katherine’s gaze dropped once toward the package.

Verena moved it out of sight. “So I am not going to tell you what it looks like, how large it is, what it contains, or whether any portion of it resembles what you are looking for.”

Producer X lifted one brow behind his glasses.

Katherine’s mouth curved faintly. “That comprehensive?”

“Yes.” Verena turned toward the nearest camera. “Aurelia, thank you. The gesture is appreciated, but the wording of her transformation is narrow.” She gave the camera a spare smile. “The gift is forbidden.”

The package vanished from her hand. Katherine watched the empty space for another second. Then she nodded.

Cassie looked at her. “You’re not even annoyed?”

“I am extremely annoyed.”

“That’s better.”

Katherine set Aurelia’s letter aside. “Now I know someone outside this season finds my problem funny.”

Producer X raised his glass. “Several someones, probably.”

Katherine looked at him. “So reassuring.”

The next envelope in Katherine’s group was plain.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Dear Katherine,

You've mostly been doing everything perfectly, even managing to balance your work with ensuring the others don't forget you. But I wonder, how will you build trust with Van? And when I say trust, I mean the type that will ensure he knows you will be there for him when you're fighting the Architect?

I say this as a pile of shapeshifting sapient goo, so my challenge is different than yours, but you've spent so long spying, stealing, and otherwise using your ability to hide from others that I wonder, how well can anyone know you as you are? Who's the real Katherine Wren? Is she separate from Mosaic? Or just another tool in Mosaic's arsenal, to deploy in saving the world?

I realize these questions must seem petty, given the threat of the Architect, but you need to build trust. Not the trust that you won't betray them, but rather the trust that comes from knowing the real you that can bind a group together at the absolute worst of times.

Sincerely, Noah

—--------------------------------------------------

Katherine read the letter once, then returned to the middle paragraph. Van held her gaze. She folded the paper slowly. “I dislike the premise.” No one rushed to fill the silence.

“My face is not a confession. Neither is my height, my hair, my age, or which body I happen to be wearing when someone asks me a personal question.” Noah’s wording had clearly found something to catch on anyway.

Katherine rested one thumb along the fold. “But the rest is fair.” Her eyes moved toward Van. “Trust is not the same thing as believing I won’t betray you.”

“No,” Van said.

“It would be convenient if it were.” Katherine glanced down at the letter. “I don’t think there is one hidden, pure Katherine underneath everything else. I think that question assumes too much.”

She faced Van. “But if the question is whether you know enough of me to know who will be standing beside you when things become unbearable…”

Her smile faded into something more thoughtful. “That is a better question.”

Van nodded once.

Katherine set the letter down. “I’ll work on it.”

Verena passed her the final envelope.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Katherine,

Well, hello, young lady. Helchrive Copse-Wood, seventh in line for the Copse-Wood throne, here. The whole fan-mail thing is a tradition on Harem Hotel. It is a pleasure to write to you.

First thing is first, whoo, girl, you are quite lucky. The strapping slab of lad as your Master? That sexy librarian robot as your Host? The even sexier personal trainer robot you get to take lessons from? A fun vacation from your war against genetic horrors? Elf staff (even if there isn’t any drow over there, as far as I can tell)? Face it, tiger, you hit the jackpot.

Your “transformation” is also fun. I would call it an obligatory side quest instead, but it is fun. As a kid that grew up sneaking around and playing in a different Hotel set, I have some advice. Navigating the Hotel usually involves non-Euclidean geometry, especially in the staff only areas. My sister Summer and I would need rescue back when we were young kids all the time. You also haven’t lived until you wave at your past self as you pass them while walking on what was the ceiling to you half an hour ago. Don’t get too far into the Backstage weeds. You may end up being eaten by zombie penguins if you end up on the wrong set. Third, stay armed, alert, and ready for anything. Anything! Again, zombie penguins. Or shark-toothed mermaids. Or mind-reading goblins. Or even, gasp, mimes!

Mama Mattie gave out guns as part of her fan-mail correspondence. I asked to keep up her tradition, at least for you. She had some fun designing this one. Let’s see if that sexy librarian robot is “cool” enough to let you use it.

Kindest regards,

Winter Mona and Kevin’s shared subby boi My favorite dinosaur is the Clawfoot

P.S., My boyfriend Kevin’s fav is the Triceratops.

Present: Yuri Bait Derringer – This tiny magic handgun comes with a single round. On a successful hit, the target will approach the target’s nearest ally and forcibly makes out with it until one of them orgasms. This gun will reload itself upon making out with one of the wielder’s allies.

—-----------------------------------------------

Katherine reached the final line. “This is really getting out of hand.”

Verena had already opened the small case, inside rested a tiny derringer.

Katherine eyed it. “I said no.”

Producer X leaned toward the case. “Classic.”

Several heads turned toward him. Verena lifted the weapon between two fingers. “Unfortunately, he is correct.”

Fiona frowned. “About what?”

“Weapons like these are common across Harem Hotel seasons.”

“That makes it worse, right?” Cassie asked.

“In several ways,” Verena agreed. She examined the derringer, then looked toward Katherine. “The effect is temporary. It causes no physical injury. Its principal damage is to dignity.”

Katherine looked at the gun again. “I still don’t want it.”

“That is your choice,” Verena held it out. “Who knows what challenges lie ahead.”

Katherine did not take it at first. Her attention moved from Verena to the derringer. “Why?”

“Because it is a tool not a snake.”

Katherine paused, then accepted the gun. “I hate that I agree with you.”

Katherine inspected the little weapon, found the safety, and engaged it. “For the record, I have no intention of shooting anyone with this.”

Cassie looked toward Fiona. “I feel like saying that out loud guarantees somebody eventually gets shot with it.”

“It absolutely does,” Producer X said, waggling his eyebrows.

“Katherine’s correspondence is concluded.”

Lizzy’s stack came next.

“Lizzy.”

Lizzy came closer, more awake than when the evening began and less pleased about that fact.

—---------------------------------------------------

Hello Lizzy,

This is only the second one of these letters I’ve done, and I’m already starting to spot a pattern in who I’ve been asked to write to. I don’t know if it’s meant to be for your benefit or for mine, but I’m sorry either way.

I suppose I’m meant to start by telling you you’re beautiful, but I’m sure you’ve heard that many times already. Maybe you’ve even been told it often enough that you actually believe that’s how they see you. Maybe you already know that Van finds you attractive just as you are. It never really fixes it though, does it? There’s always a part of you that looks in the mirror and feels disappointed. There’s always other women who are prettier, or sexier, or just plain better.

I don’t really know how to make those feelings go away. Even being given “my ideal body” through a transformation didn’t work for me. The first thing I’ve found that helps is to keep trying anyway. Keep showing up. Don’t hide yourself away, or your feelings. If you’re going to be rejected then make it happen out in the open, and then you can be pleasantly surprised when it doesn’t happen, again and again and again.

The other thing which helps, weirdly, is this damn Hotel trying to turn us into a harem. Because if it’s a harem, then you don’t have to be enough on your own. You don’t have to be his favourite to carve out some happiness for yourself. Maybe that can be enough for you and Van. I hope it can be enough for me and my husband.

Yours kindly,

Sarah Hawkins (Harem Hotel: Storytelling Edition)

—-----------------------------------------------

Lizzy finished the letter without looking up. Her fingers stayed on the page. “That was…” She stopped, then tried again. “That was a lot more useful than I wanted it to be.”

Cassie smiled faintly. “Those are the worst ones.”

Lizzy glanced at her. “Yeah. The part about people telling you you’re beautiful and it not fixing anything…” Her voice went quieter. “That’s true.”

Van said nothing. Lizzy seemed grateful for that.

She held the letter against her palm. “I don’t know about the harem part.” No one laughed. “But the showing-up part…” She nodded once. “I think I can do that.”

The second envelope needed no introduction. Black. Gold-edged. Silver wax. Lizzy’s suspicion sharpened before she broke the seal.

—---------------------------------------------

Lizzy,

Darling, you remind me so much of my first beloved. She was scared when she saw an angel coming to talk with her. Apologized for everything she had done wrong in her life, for everything she had done right but felt bad about, for everything good and holy she had been taught was a sin. It’s adorable. She’s doing great now, by the way. Happy as a clam. But I digress. You don’t need to feel bad about the attraction growing between you and Van. It is not evil to feel that pull, and it is certainly not evil to give in. The shame you feel over that, and over your body, hurt you in ways you don’t understand. Your life will be harder after the show than it has ever been. Enjoy yourself in the meantime.

A guardian angel, Aurelia

—--------------------------------------------------------

Lizzy’s ears had gone pink before she reached the end. She lowered the page. “I’m starting to think angels are a lot less subtle than I was taught.”

“Some of them,” Verena said.

Aurelia’s package sat beside the letter. Verena opened it, then paused.

Lizzy noticed the pause. “What?”

Verena lifted the first garment. It took several seconds for Lizzy to understand what she was looking at. A narrow band of fabric circled beneath the bust, with thin straps rising over the shoulders and descending again into just enough coverage to remain technically functional. The matching bottoms were constructed on the same principle: a waistband and strategically placed narrow strips, held in place by magic rather than by anything resembling ordinary tailoring.

Lizzy’s mouth fell open. “Is that? No, I couldn’t…” She looked away, then back at the tiny bands of fabric as color rose along her neck.

“Yes.” Verena examined the enchantment. “The garments are safe.”

“That isn’t the problem.” Lizzy looked horrified. “That’s not the answer I wanted.”

Cassie leaned sideways, trying to see.

Lizzy blocked her view with both hands. “Cassie,” she squealed. “Don’t.”

Verena continued her inspection. “The enchantment is stable. They will phase with you rather than through you.”

Lizzy’s embarrassment briefly gave way to interest. “Always?”

“Yes.”

For a moment, she forgot how little fabric she was looking at. Then she remembered. Her face turned red again. “That is so unfair.”

Mara covered a smile with one hand.

Lizzy pointed at the garments. “They solve the exact problem while somehow making the entire situation worse.”

Evelyn studied the design. “That may be the point.”

Lizzy groaned as Verena handed the set over. “Accepted without restriction.”

Lizzy took them as though they might bite. Van had found a very interesting section of ceiling to study.

Cassie noticed. “Still looking away?”

“Yes.”

“Good call.”

Lizzy held the garments out at arm’s length, imagining the problem they were supposed to solve. “So these might actually make me have more accidents.”

Verena remained composed. “That is up to you, Ms. Quinn.”

Lizzy stared at her. “You sound pleased.”

“I assure you,” Verena said, “I am not.”

The Mind Goblin’s neutral face split into a broad grin.

Lizzy studied the garments a final time, then reluctantly folded them. “They are functional.” She sighed, tucking them under one arm. “Fine, maybe I can find a use for them.”

Cammy White’s letter followed.

—----------------------------------------

Dear Lizzy,

As someone who knows a lot about building confidence, and on the flip side, humiliating others, I wanted to build yours up a bit. Lizzy, you have an amazing power, as you can be effectively indestructible to so many different attacks from becoming immaterial. Phasing through matter also lets you ambush a foe from countless potential positions, and makes any fortress downright easy for you to infiltrate. All of this is just the tip of the iceberg for your power, and I hope you experiment with it further in the near future.

I know your power can sometimes be embarrassing, but you shouldn't let it get to you. You learn how to use it to the best of your ability, because you have the kind of ability that can stop even someone like the Architect in their tracks. Do not waste it.

Otherwise, if Van seems a little dense, don't blame him. Guys like him, who have often been through a lot, benefit a lot from you making the first move. And the second. And really as many moves as you can make. Taking the initiative both in and out of the bedroom is really the best approach here.

Good luck, Cammy White

—-------------------------------------------------------

Van looked away before she looked at him, which made it worse.

“Oh, come on.” Cassie grinned. “She has a point.”

Lizzy huffed helplessly at her friend. “You are not helping.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” she laughed.

Lizzy pressed the letter against her chest. “The power part was good.”

Claire nodded. “It was.”

“I am choosing to focus on the power part.”

Fiona crossed her arms. “Coward.”

Lizzy stared at her, aghast. Fiona couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

Van finally looked back. “For what it’s worth, you don’t have to—”

Lizzy pointed at him. “Don’t finish that sentence, Van. Not right now.”

He stopped.

She took a breath, then another. “Actually…”

Van waited.

Lizzy’s embarrassment didn’t disappear, but she forced herself to stay in the moment instead of retreating from it. “I’ve already made one first move.”

Van answered more gently. “Yes.”

“And I survived.”

Cassie made a tiny celebratory motion inside her censor box, but Lizzy ignored her. “So maybe I can make another one when I want to.”

Lizzy exhaled and set Cammy’s letter with the others.

The final envelope in her stack had two names attached to it.

—---------------------------------------------------

Lizy,

Helo. Im Mineko. My Mistres askd us to rite leters. Im trying, but am stil learning how to. Am I doing a gud job? I want to do a gud job.

It is gud to be wif Mistres. She is nice and prety and purfect. I hope you enjoy being ownd by yur Master. He sems nice? He smel gud? He want yu to think that yu arent a slave, tu?

I got yu a present! Here! Somthing to beter apeal to yur Master. Injoi!

Mineko Monas precius cat-girl maid My favorit dinosaur is whatever Mona would lik it to be.

Lizzy,

Forgive the handwriting, spelling, and content of the above. We are working on Mineko, who was never taught to be a person, never mind how to read or write, but it is slow going. Perhaps, if you write back, could you encourage her to keep working on her literacy and growing as a (cat) person? Thanks.

Forgive the oddness in the sign-offs. Mona assigned us an epithet and asked us to include our favorite dinosaur.

The cock is crowing; I must be going...

Tessa The sexier sister My favorite dinosaur is the pterodactyl

Present: Cat-astrophe Prevention Apron – A frilly pink apron with a cute calico cat motif. When this is the only item worn, it is immune to Lizzy’s phasing abilities (so it always stays on).

—--------------------------------------------------------------

Lizzy reached the end and did not say anything for several seconds. Then she went back to the beginning.

“‘Am I doing a gud job?’” Her voice had gone quiet. She looked toward Verena. “I can write back?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” She looked at Mineko’s letter again. “I’m going to tell her she’s doing a good job.”

Tessa’s note rested beneath it. “And that she should keep learning. Reading. Writing. Whatever else she wants.”

Her eyes moved across the line about being owned. Lizzy’s mouth tightened. “And I’m going to tell her that being good at making somebody else happy isn’t the same thing as being a person.”

“I know she probably means it differently. But I don’t want her learning that the only way to be valuable is to belong to somebody.”

Lizzy stacked both letters together. Only then did Verena lift the attached package. The contents were much easier to identify than Aurelia’s gift.

A frilly pink apron unfolded from Verena’s hands, decorated with a cheerful calico-cat motif.

Cassie started smiling before anyone explained it. “Oh, that’s purr-fect for you, Lizzy!”

Verena held the apron up. “It is phase-proof under one condition.”

Lizzy narrowed her eyes. “We all heard.”

Cassie broke first. She folded over laughing inside the black box. Claire covered her mouth. Even Mara looked away.

Lizzy’s entire face went scarlet. “Why?”

Producer X raised a finger, mouth opening to reply.

Lizzy pointed at him without looking. “Don’t.”

He lowered the finger.

Verena examined the enchantment, then offered the apron to Lizzy.

Lizzy took it. The apron was, infuriatingly, cute. She rubbed one thumb over the little calico design. “I hate how much I like the cat.”

“That appears to be a recurring theme tonight,” Evelyn said.

Lizzy rubbed a thumb over the calico motif. “She tried to give me something that would help.” She sighed. “Fine. I’m keeping it.”

Cassie finally got her laughter under control. “You gonna test it?”

“No!”

“Ever?”

“No!” Lizzy hugged the apron and Aurelia’s garments against herself. “I have enough problems.”