Pt. 080.c — Fan Mail Interlude 3

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

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

Fiona was next. Her first envelope contained a short note and a book-shaped package.

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

For Fiona Fiona, there are obvious issues you have therefore I have decided to send you this self help book.

P.S. Cassie is a nice lass with a fine ass isn't she?

[How to pull that stick out of your ass for dummies. Cover has a stickfigure pulling a stick out of their ass, the head of the stickfigure has been replaced with an image of Fiona's angry face.]

—----------------------------------

Fiona read the page, anger creasing her face.

Cassie fixed very deliberately on Fiona’s face and pressed her lips together.

Fiona was rereading the postscript when Cassie raised both hands above the top of her censor box. “Anon asked you a question, girl.”

Fiona’s look was sharp enough to cut glass. “You are enjoying this too much.”

Cassie’s response was just as abrasive. “Yes.”

Verena opened the package. The cover matched the description exactly. A crude stick figure was attempting to pull a stick from its own backside. Fiona’s angry face had been pasted over the head with enough care to make the result somehow worse.

Producer X made a pleased sound.

Fiona rounded on Verena. “You better not. You didn’t even inspect it.”

“Really, Ms Kavanagh,” she responded evenly. “It is just a book.”

“It is an insult with binding.” She spat out each word.

X reached for it, but Fiona snatched it first.

He smiled. “I knew you wanted it.”

“I’m keeping it so you don’t read it to the class or something.”

Fiona turned the book over as though hoping the back cover might somehow improve matters. It didn’t. Cassie finally lost the fight and laughed. Fiona stared at her with clear betrayal on her face. Cassie tried to stop. She really did, but she just couldn’t.

Producer X grinned.

Fiona pointed the book at Cassie. “You are one sentence away from getting this thrown at you.”

Cassie grinned. “Still sounds like you’re keeping it.

The next envelope was from Hailey.

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

Dear Fiona,

What has happened to you is horrific, and any sane version of the show wouldn't have an abuse victim as one of the main contestants, but here we are. I wish I could assure that this gets better, but I cannot, as I was kidnapped to the show to make the master feel guilty, and I suspect to be around in case I had to bully formerly male contestants into acting feminine.

With all that said, you need to be ready. I have photos attached to this letter that shows a world the Architect wrecked with his experiments, and I seriously doubt that was the only one. I know your world is under assault by the Architect, and that you have at least seen his Alters. Heck, Van, the guy you're mad at, got his life wrecked by one of those alters, something you have seen yourself.

I know you're furious, but you have to work with the world as it is, and in this case, that means getting ready to fight the Architect. Your team needs your power. If you have to hate someone, hate the Architect. He's the excuse Harem Hotel needed to kidnap you, and entrap you with everyone else after all.

Sincerely, Hailey

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

Fiona let the silence sit. Verena passed her the attached photographs after a quick inspection.

Fiona took the stack. The first image showed what had once been a city. Buildings stood open to the sky. Streets had become trenches of broken concrete and twisted metal. Something enormous had burned through several blocks without caring what had been in the way.

The next photographs were worse. Bodies that had once been monsters were now just twisted flesh. Piles of the dead things littered the streets like debris after a storm. Several had been shot repeatedly, others burned or crushed. Despite the number of the dead, the world was still a smoking ruin.

Fiona’s jaw tightened. Claire stepped closer, but did not reach for the photos.

“They look like Alters,” Fiona said.

Van’s attention fixed on the nearest image. “Not exactly.”

“No.” She flipped to another.

“Cruder.”

Evelyn studied it over her shoulder. “Or produced for a different purpose.”

Fiona reread Hailey’s line about Van. She had already known it. That didn’t make seeing someone else bring it up comfortable. “I know he’s a victim.”

Van did not respond. Fiona glanced at him. “I know.” Her voice was flatter the second time. She tapped the photographs against her palm. “And she’s right about the rest.”

Cassie stopped smiling.

Fiona gathered the pictures into a neat stack. “I don’t have to like this place. I don’t have to like what it’s doing to us.” She tapped one photograph against the others. “But if this is what’s waiting outside, then being angry at the wrong target is a luxury.”

Van met her eyes. Fiona looked away first, not because she regretted saying it. Because the sentence had cost her something more than she wanted anyone to know.

The black-and-gold envelope from Aurelia followed. Fiona recognized the seal. “Oh, good.”

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

Fiona,

You seem a direct woman, so I will skip the pleasantries. You are probably my favorite contestant this season, and I would greatly prefer to see you continue to be a contestant through the end of the show, so I will offer you some pieces of advice. One of which I hope you might be open to now, and the other I hope you learn before it becomes too late. You can decide which is which. First, you must figure out what you are willing to give up in order to survive this. Do not say it out loud. The audience will hear, and those who would like to see you become Nothing will take them from you in order to later take more. Just know what can be sacrificed such that the core of you continues to go forward, and be willing to cut it out when the need arises. The choice of staying what you were has been taken from you, but if you are smart, you can shape what you will become. Second, your analysis is very sharp. It seems a useful defense mechanism. But some of your framing is wrong in ways that limit you. You have not been kidnapped by an evil entity. You have been consumed by an amoral one. Ratings are its goal, not your subjugation. Subjugation is just the most typical route. There are more. Find them. The audience, too, is not a monolithic entity. We are quite split on many issues. Such splits can be manipulated. Try not to be obvious about it, though. Most of us don’t like feeling like we are being commanded by a contestant. Pay attention to vote margins, if Verena chooses to announce them.

I hope I was some help, Aurelia

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

Fiona finished reading and turned to Verena. “Consumed by an amoral entity?”

Verena said nothing, then nodded. “That’s closer than I want it to be.”

Producer X rolled the glass between his fingers.

Fiona tapped Aurelia’s letter against her palm. “I still think calling it amoral can become an excuse if you’re not careful.”

“But she’s right that motive matters if you’re trying to manipulate a system.” Fiona continued. “If ratings are the actual goal, then the question isn’t just ‘how do I resist?’ It’s ‘what kind of resistance gets rewarded enough that the system lets me keep doing it?’”

Producer X smiled.

Fiona pointed at him. “Don’t look so damn happy.”

He placed one offended hand to his chest. “I’m appreciating your strategic growth.”

Fiona’s mouth tightened, Producer X grinned. She ignored it.

The next envelope was from Grace.

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

Fiona,

I’m going to be blunt, because I don’t think you’d appreciate it being dressed up in flowery language: you have been hurting people who don’t deserve it. I have as well.

It’s easy to be afraid, when you’ve been through the kind of things we’ve both been through. It’s even easier to be angry. But that doesn’t give you the excuse to hurt people, whether physically or verbally. Sometimes it just happens, the reaction slips out before you can help it, or your anger seems justified, but always ALWAYS take the time to calm down and consider whether they actually deserved it or not. If they didn’t, then woman the fuck up and apologise. Make things right, and do better in future.

You can still protect people, you can still call out bullshit when you see it, but make sure you’re not doing more harm than good. Because that first reaction, that encourages you to hurt people before they can hurt you? Sometimes that’s not yours. Sometimes it’s HIS reaction (I don’t need to tell you who HE is, do I?), and don’t you fucking dare let him carry on controlling your life even when he’s not in the room.

We can be better than this. I know it. Maybe one day we can even feel safe.

Grace Dalton (Harem Hotel: Storytelling Edition)

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

Fiona went very still. No one needed to ask who Grace meant. Her grip tightened around the paper. “I know who you mean.” The words came out low. “And I fucking hate that you might be right.”

Cassie stopped smiling.

Fiona stared at the middle distance for a moment. “I’m not apologizing for being angry.”

“No one asked you to,” Claire said.

Fiona’s eyes flicked toward her. Claire held the look until Fiona exhaled through her nose. “Good.”

Fiona’s thumb worried the edge of Grace’s letter. “But if I’m using his reaction with my voice…” Her jaw flexed. “That’s different.”

“I can do better without turning into somebody who smiles politely while people walk over her.” Grace’s final line held her attention a little longer. Maybe one day we can even feel safe.

Fiona set the letter down. “Maybe.”

The final envelope in Fiona’s stack belonged to Tegan.

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

Fiona,

I understand your anger. I feel a version of it myself. The Hotel has taken so much from me. My aspirations to compete in the Olympics. My body. My dignity.

I look at the mirror and am disgusted. These ridiculous cow-tits they gave me… Ugh! I’m an H-cup now, at least when I wake up every morning (for now)!!!!!! I never needed a bra before I was stolen, and now I would need one waaaay bigger than I thought existed. I thought they just go A-for-acceptable, B-for-big, and then everything else was C-for-cowtits-that-you-should-feel-bad-about-having. And they are going to get BIGGER!!!!!! Argh!!!! The fox ears and tails make me look like a freak. Okay, the muscles and height increase isn’t bad (don’t tell that Host vampire freak Shar that though).

So, if you want advice, you are turning your anger at the wrong person. Van... is fine, I guess? He’s not who you should be targeting. That Verena freak should be the one you go for. SHE’S the one that stole you away from your life!

I understand that you got to be careful about it. I got a free attempt to kill my kidnapper freak, and she sliced through a bow I couldn’t pull back in a single sword stroke. And I sent a mailbag glitterbomb with every possible way to kill a vampire I could think of to that Shar freak Host, and she just laughed it off!!!!! Silver, stakes, holy water, angel blood, Sunny D, everything!

So, let’s make a pact, you and I. If one of us discovers the secret weakness these Hosts have, we tell the other?

I am attempting to send you something to protect you from the robot librarian freak. Forgive the perverseness (so many things here are perverted).

Forgive also the final indignity. My Mistress gets to assign me an epithet.

Death to the kidnappers,

Tegan Mona’s Sexy Fox Waifu My favorite dinosaur is the that frilled one that spits venom like a cobra, whatever it was called...

Present: Clit Ring of Mind Shielding – While wearing this ring, you are immune to magic that allows other creatures to read your thoughts, determine whether you are lying, know your alignment, or know your creature type. Creatures can only telepathically communicate with you if you allow it. You will know if this ring prevents an action taken against you, as it will powerfully and loudly vibrate when it does.

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

Fiona reached the end and let the letter hang from one hand. “Tegan thinks I should be trying to kill you.”

“I noticed.” Verena’s tone made it clear, she was no more concerned than if Fiona was plotting to misplace one of her pencils..

Fiona’s disbelief was just as plain. “And wants a mutual Host-murder information exchange.”

“I noticed that as well.”

Producer X lifted his glass. “Cross-season networking at its finest.”

“Quiet,” Verena and Fiona said together.

The Mind Goblin flashed a sudden grin.

Fiona ignored both X and the figurine. “She’s wrong about Van.”

Van glanced at her, but she didn’t elaborate.

Verena opened the small package attached to the letter. A tiny piece of jewelry rested inside.

Fiona recoiled a fraction. “You’re kidding. I’m not wearing that.”

Verena checked the enchantment and held it out. “Accepted without alteration.”

Fiona didn’t take it. “That’s useless.”

Evelyn’s eyebrow rose.

Fiona pointed toward her. “She doesn’t go digging through my head without permission. So, what exactly am I protecting myself from?”

“Other telepaths exist,” Claire said.

“I know that,” she insisted.

“Hostile psychic effects exist,” Evelyn added. “Not necessarily from a telepath.”

“Then you drive a nail through your clit, Ms. CEO. I’m not doing it.” Fiona jabbed a finger toward the ring. “It’s trashy.”

Cassie made a sound that might have been a laugh , but when Fiona shot her a look, she raised both hands. “Nothing.”

Verena continued holding the ring out.

Fiona stared at it for another second, then took it between two fingers as though handling something mildly contaminated. “I’m not wearing this.”

Fiona pinched the bridge of her nose. “Even if I did wear it, everyone in the room would know my pussy was receiving a notification?”

Fiona closed her hand around the ring. “I hate this entire evening.” She dropped the ring back into its little box and tucked it beneath the joke book. “Fine. I’ll keep the stupid thing.”

“Cassie.” Verena drew the next stack toward her.

Cassie shifted inside the black censor box.

“Finally,” she muttered.

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

For Cassie

Cassie may I ask what is your favorite physical part of Fiona, her ass, her eyes, her burning red hair, her shimmering green eyes?

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

Cassie read the question once, then stole a glance at Fiona. Fiona caught her so she snapped her attention back to the page. “You listed her eyes twice.”

Fiona folded her arms. “That’s what you noticed?”

She crossed her arms defensively, “It’s objectively bad question construction.”

Cassie’s eyes flicked over Fiona despite herself. Red hair. Green eyes. The hard line of her mouth when she was pretending not to care what answer came next.

Cassie’s face warmed. “Fine. Her eyes.”

Fiona blinked.

Cassie regretted the sincere answer as soon as it was out. “Happy?” The word came out like a slur.

A small, involuntary smile touched Fiona’s mouth.

Cassie pointed at her. “Don’t make it weird.” She folded the note much more aggressively than necessary.

The next envelope was from Nox.

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

Dear Cassie,

You're in a really good spot, in a lot of ways. Harem Hotel is a hard thing to get used to, but you're in a better spot than most in that regard. Hence, the main thing I want to do is to try to reframe the relationship you have Van as...

Van needs you. Specifically, he needs the version of you that blasts an asshole who doesn't understand the word no. He needs that version of you because he's a victim of the Architect on a very visceral level that you have experienced firsthand. He may be stronger than he appears, but we both know that good strength by human standards means nothing in the context of Alters. He needs your anger, and your strength, the way any other innocent does who is threatened by someone who abuses them.

Sincerely, Nox

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

The embarrassment drained out of Cassie before she reached the end. She said, “I don’t like the word needs.”

He gave a small nod. “Okay.”

“It makes it sound like you’re supposed to depend on me.”

He tipped his head side to side, thinking first. “I don’t think that’s what they meant.”

“Neither do I. But the other part…” Her thumb rubbed once across the fold. “I know what I do when somebody doesn’t understand no.”

Cassie continued. “And if the Architect comes near any of us, I’m not going to stand around worrying whether being angry makes me difficult.”

Van smiled faintly. “I hope so.”

“I know.” Cassie’s grip loosened on the page. “And for the record, if you ever need somebody blasted because they don’t understand no, you can ask.”

Van’s smile grew. “I’ll remember that, blasting on demand.”

Verena handed her the black-and-gold envelope from Aurelia.

Cassie recognized the seal and groaned. “Oh, great. Angel advice.” She broke it.

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

Cassie,

You are a wonderful contestant. And you seem to be in one of my favorite places for a contestant to be, mentally. Surrounded by all of these undeniably attractive women, in a setting where sexuality is the background noise, the sound of the hotel’s quiet, it’s only natural for any latent tendencies towards bisexual attractions to come to the fore. Allow me to make very clear to you. I am an angel, a representative of the heavens. And sexualities of all kinds are encouraged to flourish, people are encouraged to explore themselves and their attractions to the fullest extent. The shame you feel is societally enforced, not an innate part of you. You and your companions have the opportunity here to build a new norm, where shame isn’t used as a method of patriarchal control. I don’t expect you to overturn what you’ve learned in a day. Just think about it.

One bisexual to another, Aurelia

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

Cassie finished reading and, unusually, produced no joke. Fiona noticed. Cassie kept the letter in both hands. “I don’t love being psychoanalyzed by an angel I’ve never met.”

“Reasonable,” Katherine said.

“And I really don’t love somebody telling me what my sexuality is.” Cassie glanced toward Fiona, then away. “Anyhow…” The word irritated her enough that she stopped and started again.

“I’m not ashamed of being me.” No one pushed. Cassie shifted inside the censor box.

Fiona’s gaze sharpened, but Cassie did not elaborate. “And I can figure the rest out myself.”

Cassie set Aurelia’s letter aside. The remaining envelope was made from obviously recycled paper. “Why do I feel like this is going to be a problem?”

Verena didn’t answer.

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

Hey kid,

You are my girlfriend’s favorite over there. Something about a cool “blowing up clothes” power? That seems environmentally unfriendly, but my girlfriend is oftentimes a horny little gremlin.

You remind me a bit of my pre-dreamnapping self. Though, I bet you’d do a better job of blowing up the Hoover Dam than I did. Probably for the best that I failed. Still, have you thought about being a bit nicer? Like, turn your mean sarcasm to flirty sarcasm? I’ve been learning that it’s better to build up nature than tear down humanity. I bet your future boyfriend and maybe current girlfriend would like it.

You seem a bit uncomfortable with your clothes for some reason? I got you a present from our clothing store. The nice staff lady bird-girl picked it out especially for you. It’s 100% vegan leather, so don’t worry about that. I otherwise didn’t ask for details. Maybe it’ll help?

Gaia Mona’s sexy shapeshifter My favorite dinosaur is Beavis, the Hammerskull I saw (and decided was totally a Beavis) at Deano Saur’s Dinosaur Preserve. He was soo cool, showing how dominant his hard head was! Smash!

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

Cassie lowered the letter. “Mean sarcasm to flirty sarcasm.”

Fiona failed to hide a smile. “That sounded defensive.”

“I’m trapped in a floating black censor box while strangers give me relationship advice.”

Cassie tapped Gaia’s letter with one finger. “The Hoover Dam thing is kind of impressive, though.”

“Failed to blow it up,” Claire said.

“Still counts for initiative.”

Verena lifted the garment that had accompanied the letter. Bright yellow vegan leather unfolded into a trenchcoat.

Cassie brightened before she could stop herself. “Oh.” The color was unapologetic. Loud enough to be obnoxious without quite crossing into ugly.

Cassie liked it before she could stop herself. She tried not to show that too quickly. “That’s actually kind of cool.”

Verena examined the coat before handing it over. Her eyes paused on something inside the collar. Only for a moment.

Verena’s face returned to neutral. “Accepted.”

Cassie took the coat. The leather was soft in her hands and lighter than it looked. “Seriously?” She turned it around, checking the back, then the sleeves. “This color is ridiculous.”

“You like it,” Fiona said.

Cassie hugged it closer to her box. “It goes with anything,” she declared defensively.

Producer X gave an approving nod. “Excellent branding potential.”

Cassie pointed at him. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

Producer X grinned.

“Thanks, Gaia.”

Verena checked the remainder of the stack.

Van’s stack was last. His first note was short.

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

For Van

Van, you clearly need some help taming Fiona therefore I have included this guide book.

[How to pull that stick out of her ass for dummies. 2 stickfigures one pulling a stick out of another's ass. The stickfigure with a stick up her ass has the same picture as the previous cover replacing the face, in addition to a picture of Fiona's clothed ass. The puller has Van with a smile on his face.]

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

Van stared at the note, then at Fiona.

Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, Van?” she asked in a dangerous tone.

Verena opened the attached package and removed the book. It was, somehow, worse than Fiona’s. The cover showed two stick figures. Fiona’s angry face had been pasted over one head, along with a photograph of her clothed backside. The other figure wore Van’s smiling face while pulling the offending stick free.

Verena slid the book across the table to Van. “Accepted.”

Van took it with two fingers. “Of course it is.”

Fiona said, “You better not be keeping that.”

“I wasn’t planning to.” He turned the cover over once. His discomfort had very little to do with the crude joke. “I don’t like the ‘taming’ part.”

Fiona’s shoulders dropped a fraction.

Van turned the book over. “She’s not something I’m supposed to fix until she behaves better for me.”

Fiona said nothing. “So the book’s stupid.”

“Don’t forget crude,” Claire said.

“Yes.”

“Still objectively funny,” Cassie added. When the others glared at her, Cassie shrugged above the censor box. “What? Two things can be true.”

Van set the book down on the table. “X can have it.”

Producer X reached for it.

Fiona slapped her palm down on the cover first. “No.”

Fiona seemed to realize her palm was still on the cover. She left it there. “You definitely can’t have it. It’d be a sitcom on four planets by breakfast.”

X smiled. “I admire your attempts to control the narrative.”

“Shut up.”

Matthew Hawkins’s letter followed.

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

Dear Van,

Not sure if you’d remember me, but we did briefly shake hands at the bachelor party. I was the thin one in the group with the groom for the Island Challenge. Usually I’d describe myself as “the tall one” but for once that wasn’t the case in comparison to everyone else there. It seems like Masters in this show tend towards the big and powerful builds, especially after a few transformations. That’s probably meant to be symbolic of something, and I think I know what (even if I really don’t like it).

What I mean to say is: I get it. We’ve been given a lot of power over these women, power we didn’t ask for, and if I’m reading you right then it’s power neither of us want. Power we need to be extraordinarily careful about using. Power that could cause real harm to innocent people. Power that we’re in the privileged position of not being under any real risk if it goes wrong. But it’s also a power we can’t refuse to use, because that only makes the harm worse.

However, as a very strange entity recently told me, they’re not as fragile as you think. Trust the women you feel responsible for to make decisions for themselves. Believe them when they tell you what they want. By all means check in to make sure they’re certain, but don’t try and decide on their behalf that they’re scared or weak or don’t know what they’re doing. That’s true for your group more than it is for most, because they’re actual superheroes! These women are the stuff of stories on the world I come from, you won’t break them by allowing yourself to be a person around them, to have wants and desires. If you do cause any hurt, there’s no reason you can’t just apologise and make amends. I certainly hope that all of that’s true, at least. In reality, I’m in the same position as you. Behind you, actually, because I’m not even halfway through my first week. But I’ve started my journey, and if my Host is to be believed then this has all been set up to tell a good story. A story might have obstacles, but they will never be insurmountable. It wouldn’t be entertaining for us to fail at every turn or have no hope that things will get better. We can get through this, and have a happy ending.

Good luck, and keep in touch.

Matthew Hawkins (Harem Hotel: Storytelling Edition)

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

The hall stayed quiet. “Believe them when they tell you what they want.” He said it mostly to himself. He folded the letter once, then unfolded it again. “I think I’ve been getting better at that.”

“You have,” Claire said.

He glanced at her. “But I still do this thing where I give somebody so much room that I’m erasing myself, not respecting them.”

Katherine tilted her head. “You can, at times.”

“Yeah.” Van tapped Matthew’s letter with his thumb. “But sometimes I’m also deciding in advance that they probably need the exit.”

No one rushed to reassure him.

“I don’t want to stop checking.”

“You shouldn’t,” Evelyn said.

“But checking isn’t the same thing as assuming.”

“No,” Evelyn said. “It is not.”

“I can work on that.” Van set the letter aside.

The next envelope was from Felix.

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

Dear Van,

Man, I thought I had it bad, but losing your childhood, your family, everything really to a monster and the related trauma is just horrific. With that in mind, I wanted to give you some advice as someone whose still relatively new to this,

Doing fun things with contestants is good for them and you. Normally I'm assuring people that the thing they want to do anyway is often what's best for everyone involved... but understandably you probably aren't super in the mood for sex given... well, both the present and the past.

Do not be afraid to assert yourself. In this case, you can reassure contestants by asserting yourself via the show, such as what you did with the schedule. It's okay to let contestants take the lead, but not okay to let them walk all over you.

As bad as things may feel, trust me when I say you are in nowhere near the worst season. Check out some others when you can, such as the one Harper comes from(who I'm sure will be sending you mail), or seasons like Vengeance Bitches.

Sincerely, Felix

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

Van reached the end and exhaled. “That one I think I already learned the hard way.”

Fiona’s eyes flicked toward him. “The schedule part?”

“The asserting-myself part.”

Fiona gave him a small nod.

“I spent a while acting like having a preference was the same thing as controlling somebody.”

Mara relaxed slightly.

“And it turns out that mostly makes everybody else guess what I want while I pretend I don’t want anything.”

“That was getting irritating,” Cassie said.

Van smiled. “Yeah. The part about other seasons being worse…” His smile faded a little. “I believe him.”

Tyalangan’s envelope was heavier than the others.

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

Van,

I hope this letter finds you well. Or, as well as circumstances will allow.

Like you, I was kidnapped by interdimensional smut peddlers. I played a worse version of the game than you. Yes, there are much worse seasons than the one you find yourself on. While Verena speaks like a Human Resources middle manager as interpreted by an lizardman alien robot, her intentions are much purer than most Hosts. She is trying to turn the power of the show to save your world. That is much, much better than everyone being warped to the whims of the audience just as a “fun” little social “experiment” like me and mine suffered through.

Looking at your particular circumstances, you have been denied so much. Your world failed you, over and over and over again. How much of that is negligence and how much is the sheer scope of the problem of keeping a world under siege by intergalactic monsters even remotely functional, I cannot say. A child shouldn’t be left alone after his parents die. A child shouldn’t need to scrounge through trash for food. A child shouldn’t have to sleep in alleyways. They should have given you stability and protection from the very beginning, not after years of rough sleeping and untreated trauma wracking your soul. Masters often arrive at the Hotel broken; you arguably arrived as the most shattered I have ever seen.

So, this advice is offered in the spirit of helping you, both for now and what happens after. I will try my best to avoid the Verena-speak. First, you need to understand that you have obligations to those bound to you. They ARE bound to you. I can explain the metaphysics in more detail later if you wish. It is an extreme duty thrust upon you. If you give into your darker desires, which I have a feeling is very different than the usual dark desires a Master would have, you will drag them down with you. Neither they nor you deserve that. You need to step up, especially emotionally. You need to make yourself truly available for them. You need to learn to trust, to love. Give yourself the space to do so.

Second, you need to understand the power your harem wields. In a fight with your foe, you are most likely the weak link. You need to run, protect yourself, provide tactical overwatch if you can. They can handle themselves. While I was touched by your desire to protect young Lizzy as she slept, you are not equipped to do so as you are. You all would have been better served with you holding the girl in your arms as you both slept than maintaining a futile vigil.

Third, reach out when you need help. There are many Masters and Mistresses. We even have a support group. We’ll do what we can. Might just be a kind word. Might be more, if Verena allows.

Speaking of Verena allowing things, presents. First, a tradition: a two-tailed fox plushy. It has a Calm Emotions enchantment on it; give it a squeeze and it takes the edge off of harsh emotions. It will help with your panic attacks, should you have it on hand. Eliminations are horrible, even when earned. Remember that.

One of my transformations may be helpful, so I included a tweaked version of it. A little personal protection so you don’t have to be perfect if you are forced onto the battlefield. If it is allowed, may it serve you well.

Regards,

Tyalangan, 48th Queen of the Copse-Wood Throne Ruler of Nimlith Grove Masters Support Group – Member Emeritus

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

Van finished the letter and stood with it open in both hands. The first paragraph had earned a small sound from Cassie at the description of Verena. Verena had not reacted. The rest of it stripped the humor away. Van touched the sentence about being the weak link with one thumb. “I don’t love that.”

“No,” Fiona said. “But she’s probably right.”

He glanced at her and nodded slowly. “That part I can live with.”

His eyes returned to the letter. “The rest…” He did not finish the sentence. “I still don’t like the word harem.”

“No one expected you to,” Claire said.

“And I’m not sure I buy all of the metaphysics just because somebody from another season says it.”

Evelyn nodded. “Sensible.”

“But asking for help…” He tapped the line about the support group. “That part is probably harder for me than it should be.”

Van gave a quiet laugh. “Which probably means I should pay attention to it.”

The first attached gift was a soft two-tailed fox plush. The contrast with the letter pulled a smile out of Van. “That’s cute.”

Cassie looked offended. “That is extremely cute.”

Verena examined the enchantment. “It activates only when squeezed. The effect is temporary and reduces emotional intensity. It does not alter memory, attachment, judgment, or personality.”

She held it out. “Accepted without restriction.”

Van took the plush. It was softer than he expected. He turned it over once and thumbed one of the two tails.

He held it against one side for a moment, awkwardly enough that Cassie noticed. “You don’t know what to do with a stuffed animal, do you?”

“Not really.” He rubbed one thumb over a plush tail. “Thank you, Tyalangan.”

Verena’s hand moved toward the second attached item. It didn’t resemble much of anything. A small token rested in Verena’s palm, accompanied by a description card.

Van shifted the fox plush under one arm. “Is it bad?”

“Potentially useful,” Verena said.

She handed him the card instead of the item.

Personal Bubble – The Master needs a way to survive long enough for his harem to come to his aid. When his life is in immediate danger, any individual that Van has not sufficiently developed a positive emotional connection to will experience searing pain whenever they come within 6 inches of touching him. The pain will become more severe as the individual becomes closer to touching him, with direct skin to skin contact causing pain equivalent to running that body part, soaked in acid, through a wood chipper on fire. No actual tissue damage is done by this effect at base level. Once a day, Van can crank up the effects of this bubble. If he does so, the bubble absorbs all damage from a singular attack, reflecting damage equal to the damage back to the attacker, multiplied by the number of Van’s harem that has reached at least 100 VP.

Van finished reading. “That sounds unpleasant.”

“Extremely,” Evelyn said.

Fiona’s eyes narrowed at the token. “So anybody he doesn’t like enough gets tortured for standing too close?”

“Only when his life is in immediate danger,” Verena said.

“That is still a pretty broad category around here.”

Verena closed her fingers around the token. “I am permitting the item.”

Van looked at her hand. “But?”

“You will not take possession of it yet.”

Producer X tilted his head. Verena continued. “The protection is automatic enough, and powerful enough, that I will not allow it to become a substitute for judgment, training, or reliance on the people around you.”

Van glanced toward the women. “When do I get it?”

“When your contestants reach a total of one hundred and sixty Victory Points.”

Fiona frowned. “Why that number?”

“Because by then, this group will have progressed far enough that I am satisfied the device is less likely to become a crutch. I do not care how the points are earned.”

The card’s once-per-day reflection effect used a similar threshold. Van tapped that line. “So the thing itself was designed around that milestone.”

“In part.” Verena placed the token back into its container. “Until then, it remains in my custody.”

Van nodded. “That’s fine.”

Van tucked Tyalangan’s letter beneath the fox plush. “I already have eight people telling me to stop trying to do everything myself. I probably don’t need an artifact helping me ignore them.”

Verena sealed the container. “When the condition is met, it is yours without further restriction.”

Van nodded again. “Fair.”

Mona’s envelope followed, written in a hand that seemed incapable of restraint.

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

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii, Vaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m so excited to write to you again! Sooooo much has happened since you wrote to me! I got a girlfriend and a fiancée and some cool transformations (even if I didn’t get the instant sexy body transformation I wanted)! I learned some lessons, got some magic, got to be a megalodon for a bit, and maybe even got closer to be worthy of them all.

I hope you’re doing good, too! Has Riot blown up your clothes again? Has Starling given you a hair job yet? Oooh, has Mosaic shapeshifted to whoever got you into ladies and done a sexy strip dance? That sounds sooooo hawt!

Oh, according to Little Miss, the manager of the Harem Hotel retail store, I am apparently one of the top requesters for Wai-Fu Quest merchandise! I’m wearing a T-shirt with the logo on it right now! Ophie blames it on me losing weight from my weird “make diet and exercise more effective” transformation. I needed a complete wardrobe change and it’s been less than a week! I bet you guys are so excited by being turned into a sexy isekai story. How much do you make on merch commissions?

My Host also made us a super cut of your season, so I got to watch a bit of your season! You are soooo cute! I also saw that you’ve been having some panic attacks? That’s sad. I want to help! You know pets reduce stress? So, I first thought corgi, because corgis are cute and loyal. Then, I had a better idea! Why have a pet dog when you can have a pet dinosaur? I signed you up for the Deano Saur’s Dinosaur Preserve’s Clawfoot Breeding Program! You should see a couple of clawfoot eggs, rarin’ to hatch. One is a boy clawfoot and the other is a girl! I’m sure your Host lady can send the eggs they make (eventually) back to Deano. Clawfoots are like Utahraptors. So, biiiiiig velociraptors. When they are full grown, you can ride them! It’s so cool! Be sure to feed them lots of meat early and often!

Oh, and I made sure my harem tells you their favorite dinosaur!

Mona! My favorite dinosaur is... The Triple Headed Tarrasque!!!!!!!

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

Van reached the end; his attention shifted to the two insulated cases beside the envelope.

“Wait.” Cassie leaned forward. “You don’t get to say no before we see the dinosaurs.”

Verena opened the first case. Warm air hissed as the pressure normalized. Inside, nestled in a padded cradle, rested a mottled egg larger than Van’s head. The second case held another. A third refrigerated container contained the promised shredded meat.

Lizzy stepped closer. “Those are real?”

“Yes,” Verena said. “And about to hatch.”

Cassie’s eyes lit up, but Van was less enthusiastic. “We don’t have anywhere to put two giant predators.”

“I agree.” Verena closed the first case. “These eggs will be placed in stasis.”

Van looked relieved enough that he did not bother hiding it.

Cassie’s face fell. “What?”

“Until such time as the contestants can manage them properly.” Verena continued. “They require appropriate habitat, food, containment, veterinary support, and handlers who understand their behavior. I will not allow my season to become derailed into a zoo simply because”—she paused, searching for the right word—“the young Mistress found the idea entertaining.”

Producer X lifted his glass. “A little chaos never hurt, Verena. And one thing that gremlin’s season is good for is entertaining chaos.”

Verena ignored him.

Cassie leaned toward the eggs. “How long is ‘until such time’?”

“Until I am satisfied you can care for them safely.” Verena placed one hand over each case. A pale field settled around them. The faint warmth and movement within stopped and then all three containers faded out of existence.

Van gestured at the empty space. “So I own two dinosaurs that are currently frozen in time.” He tucked the fox plush more firmly under his arm. “And a magic emotional-support fox.”

“Yes.” Producer X smiled. “You are accumulating a brand.”

Van sighed. “It’s really a mixed bag.”

The final envelope bore handwriting Van recognized. He went still before opening it. Andy’s name was written on the back.

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

Van,

Thank-you notes were supposed to be a two-day job. This is the last one, and it's later than it should be. Thank you for coming to the bachelor party, and to the wedding. I know it probably didn't go the way you thought. I don't know if your Host had warned you in advance, and if she hadn't, I apologize. Hopefully you and yours made it safely home.

You asked me something at the whiskey tasting, the night before the wedding — whether the only reason you'd made it this far was because someone else didn't. I told you yes. That hasn't changed. I still don't know what to do with mine, some days. I've mostly stopped trying to argue myself out of it, which helped, some. What I said after, about the MSA, still stands, too: I'm not deciding for you what you're ready to carry. No deadline on that. Felix and Robert have the same offer. This letter's yours, though.

I owe you a separate apology, about Claire, Evelyn, and Fiona. I meant to actually sit with the three of them properly at some point that night or during the reception, not just — not what I actually managed, which wasn't much. I should have made time. I didn't. If our two stories cross again, I'd like another shot at it.

I won't try to describe the wedding to you. You were there. I mostly just wanted this down on paper before it turned into one of those things I meant to say and never did. And I wanted to wish you good luck. You're still in your early days. There is a lot still slated to happen, relationships will evolve, and you may get a few surprises of your own. So, for what it's worth, if you ever want to write to vent, or if you need advice, door's always open. Verena knows how to find me.

Take care of yourself, Van.

Andy

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

Van looked toward Claire, Evelyn, and Fiona. “He really worries too much, right?”

Claire’s posture eased. “It was his wedding.”

Evelyn nodded. “Agreed.”

He folded the letter halfway, then stopped. “The thing at the whiskey tasting…” His voice went quieter. “He didn’t tell me surviving meant I deserved it more. Or that the people who didn’t make it were supposed to die. He just…” Van exhaled. “Told me the truth.”

Evelyn’s gaze stayed on him. “And you trusted him more for it.”

Van thought about that. “Yes.” The answer came slowly. “I think I did.” He touched the line about the Masters Support Association. “I’m still not ready for that. But I haven’t forgotten the offer.” He returned to the final paragraph. If you ever want to write to vent, or if you need advice, door's always open.

A reluctant half-smile appeared. “I might write. Not just for advice.”

Verena waited until Andy’s letter joined the others. The correspondence table was finally empty; what remained had been sorted into three categories without ceremony: gifts already claimed, items held in her custody, and things that had been refused entirely.

The Mind Goblin sat beside Producer X’s drink, its face neutral for the moment.

Verena ignored it. “That concludes the correspondence selected for this event.”

Producer X raised his glass toward the cast. “For what it’s worth, you all did very well.”

Fiona said, “At reading mail?”

He shrugged. “You guys have a lot of character. I’ve seen some real duds.”

Verena stepped back toward the lectern. “If you wish to respond later, written replies can be submitted through me. Cross-season correspondence is always mediated. Do not assume that receiving a letter grants unrestricted contact with its sender.”

Katherine nodded. “Reasonable.”

“For those of you who were taken from sleep, you will be restored exactly as you were when you return.”

Cassie gestured at the black censor box. “Great.”

Naomi gave a small shrug from inside her own box. “At least I’ll be in bed.”

Verena continued. “You have now been seen by people outside this season not merely as contestants, but as individuals worth addressing directly. That attention can be useful. It can also become another type of pressure.”

Producer X lifted his glass. “And, ideally, entertainingly.”

Verena faced the cast again. “Thank you for participating.”

The chandeliers dimmed. The banners lost their depth first. Then the edges of the room began to soften, and the hall dissolved.

For Van, the marble floor became darkness. The fox plush was gone from his hands for less than the time between one heartbeat and the next. Then he was back in the Master Suite. The lamp was still off. Fiona lay on the far side of the bed exactly where she had been before the wedding and the mail.

For one second, neither of them moved. Then something soft landed on Van’s chest. He caught the two-tailed fox by reflex. Across the bed, Fiona made a muffled sound. Van turned his head and saw a book had appeared on her nightstand. Then a second one landed on top of it. He could just make out the pale rectangle of the covers in the dark.

Fiona said, very quietly, “I hate everyone.” Fiona rolled onto her side, facing away from him.

Van bit the inside of his cheek and smiled into the dark.

A few seconds passed before Fiona spoke again. “Andy was right about one thing.”

Van’s smile faded. “What?”

She took long enough to answer that he thought she might have changed her mind. “You should write.”

Van looked at the ceiling. “Maybe.”

Fiona pulled the blanket higher. “Go back to sleep.”

Van set the fox beside his pillow. The room settled back into the quiet they had left behind.