Round 1 Day 3 - Morning (2/2)

The Hotel shop was quiet and calm. The morning sunlight streamed in through the high windows, catching motes of dust in the air and gleamed off the various bits of interestingly-shaped silicone, metal and leather that lined the shelves. Behind the countertop, Cleo was idly leafing through an ancient-looking leatherbound tome. The pages within were even older than the medieval binding; thick papyrus, with text in colourful hieroglyphics that she read with bored amusement. Then Scarlet strode in like she owned the place, which she essentially did, and confronted the gigantic shopkeeper with a stern expression and a sharp gesture of her quill.

“You’ve got some nerve,” she craned her neck upwards to glare and into Cleo’s sleepy smile, “I told you not to let through any inter-season mail that threatened the story!”

Cleo eyed her without a hint of shame from the chastisement, perhaps a little interest instead, and slowly closed the book.

“And did it threaten the story?” she leaned forward and propped her chin up on one hand. Her loose white robes swung open at the chest, very nearly revealing the nipples that capped her enormous breasts.

“Yes!” Scarlet exclaimed, losing only a few seconds of anger to the impressive cleavage, “Matt just nearly died trying to figure out what he’d even asked about in the first place! I had to pull a Gandalf to get him to drop it before his head exploded.” She pointed with the quill again, accusatory. “You’re not even supposed to be able to disobey if I give you explicit orders.”

“Hmm. So I disobeyed your orders then?”

The Host squinted, and lowered the quill. “Yes. The one about screening the mail, and the one about giving straight answers that you seem to flaunt on the regular. What are you getting at?”

“Well if it’s not possible then how could I have done it? Would any one else’s orders affect what I’m allowed to do?”

Scarlet folded her arms and tapped her foot against the stone floor, trying to see the shape of the story her employee was skirting around. Cleo seemed to be having fun with the questions, which was annoying even if it was an understandable part of her nature, but what answers was she expecting? As a Host’s assistant, she should only be taking orders from Scarlet. There was only one entity that directly outranked her on that, unless you got metanarrative about it.

“The Producer gave you different instructions,” she said, incorrectly.

“Is that what you think I meant?” the shopkeeper raised a lazy eyebrow, still smiling. Scarlet, however, was not smiling at all.

“You’re infuriating,” she said, correctly.

Cleo’s grin just widened. Scarlet pinched the bridge of her beaky nose and gave a frustrated groan. “I don’t have time to deal with this. The parties are already over and we haven’t even arrived at them yet.”

“Why wait then? Maybe if you go then you might get some hints about what’s going on while you’re over there?” she suggested, gesturing towards the door with a single sharp fingernail.

The Host didn’t follow the gesture, instead pursing her lips and scrutinising her assistant. The large Egyptian woman was definitely enjoying herself, leaning casually against the counter of the store. Amusement glinted in her golden eyes, but also curiosity.

“You know more than you’re letting on,” she accused grumpily.

“Do you really think so?” Cleo preened, twirling a finger through her glossy black hair and looking enormously pleased with herself.

Scarlet twirled her quill between finger and thumb as she thought it through. “So there’s something going on here, and maybe a clue about it in the party chapters. It must be the...” she winced, then sneezed out a small burst of flame, then scowled, “Dammit. I don’t have that information in continuity yet. I need to get these timelines straight before something breaks.”

“So why aren’t you doing that?” the shopkeeper slowly arched an eyebrow.

“Fine,” the Host sighed, tiredly rubbing a hand across her face, “Point made. I guess we’ll just skip ahead and keep the filler scenes to a minimum, but don’t think I’m letting you off the hook on this.”

She swiped her quill sideways through the air, drawing a horizontal line across the chapter.

The door to the throne room creaked open, and Sarah peeked through the gap before finding it empty and sliding awkwardly inside. She wasn’t sure exactly how long it was going to be until they left, but arriving late and letting everyone down wasn’t an option so she’d erred on the side of early. If she’d had the choice then she would have been waiting with Matt, but the Master Suite door still didn’t open and the Host wasn’t around to let her in so that wasn’t an option either. She hadn’t even been able to get his feedback on her outfit, and she desperately hoped she hadn’t misjudged the level of formality.

The long-sleeved top wasn’t too far off from what Sarah might have worn before her transformation, apart from the neckline that made her feel like her gravity-defying boobs were about to slip loose at any moment, and the skirt was just about long enough to preserve her modesty even if it left very little of the shape beneath it to the imagination. A couple of other outfits were in an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, for after the spa and for the wedding the next day, but that wouldn’t be much help if she arrived and everyone else was wearing cocktail dresses. Not unless she could sneak away to get changed somewhere, and that would have been a whole different kind of mortifying if anyone noticed.

Following a subconscious instinct, Sarah wandered slowly over and took a seat on the first of the eight wooden chairs arranged around the foot of the ostentatious golden throne while she waited for the others. She idly kicked her heels against the carpet, part of her still finding it novel that her feet touched the ground now after gaining a few inches of height from her transformation, and looked around at the huge stained-glass windows.

The dragon representing Matt dominated the room, curled protectively around its pile of treasure in the window behind the throne, but the expression on its reptilian face was oddly melancholy for such a powerful beast. The succubus, on the other hand, seemed to be taunting her. The sensual figure had every ounce of the confidence she lacked, and was putting it on full display. Sarah couldn’t meet its eyes, even though they were inanimate glass, but looking at the rest of the image was almost worse. The nude body was so similar to the one she was inhabiting right now; her idea of an ideal woman, exuding sex appeal like an aura.

She forced her gaze away, her cheeks faintly colouring, and looked around the remaining windows instead. The others all seemed somehow less intimidating than they had during the opening ceremony, especially the zombie. The gaunt figure didn’t seem to be reaching quite as desperately out of the frame. The expression on its face was more grumpy than hungry. Maybe it was just the difference in the light, with the sun high overhead rather than setting in every direction simultaneously.

The door creaked open again with the strain of great effort, and Sarah whipped her head around eagerly, but was slightly disappointed when the figure who slipped inside this time was about three feet shorter than her husband. Poppy was dressed much more smartly than Sarah would have expected: black suit trousers, white shirt, and a dark grey waistcoat, but over the top of it was a shoulder harness carrying pouches of camera equipment. An enamel badge was pinned to the front of the harness, with the pink, orange and white stripes of the lesbian pride flag.

“Hello again,” Sarah said shyly.

Poppy stared at her blankly for several seconds, standing still just inside the doorway, then slowly blinked and wandered over and hopped up onto the fifth chair down the line. Much like Sarah had been doing, she kicked her heels back and forth and examined the stained glass windows. Sarah switched over to examining Poppy.

The small Asian woman was a little odd in more ways than the obvious. Everything about her, even the camera gear, had been shrunk while maintaining her original proportions. Her expression was mostly neutral, but her eyes were wide and curious. She clearly knew Sarah was there, they were the only two people in the room, but didn’t seem to think that was worth commenting on. She seemed comfortable in the silence. Sarah was not, and after only a couple of minutes she found herself fidgeting anxiously.

“Did you read that summary?” she asked, trying to fill the space, “What did you think?”

Poppy didn’t react to the questions. She was staring at the vampire picture and lightly chewing on her bottom lip, giving no indication at all that she had even heard.

“Poppy?” Sarah said eventually, a little louder.

The name got a reaction. Poppy blinked as if surprised, then swivelled her attention towards Sarah. “Hmm?”

“...what did you think about the pamphlet?” she tried again.

“They seem interesting,” Poppy nodded slowly, “A few of them are naked.”

“Yeah, I noticed that too,” Sarah said, blushing and looking down at her knees, “I can’t even imagine.”

“I can,” Poppy replied. Her eyes drifted off towards a blank spot on the stone wall, and she began to chew on her bottom lip again.

Sarah’s blush intensified, and she wrung her hands together as if she didn’t know what to do with her fingers. “Um. One of the Contestants over there is a lesbian as well. I guess you’re not the only one. Maybe you can have a chat with her about what that’s like, and how to survive it?”

Poppy’s eyes snapped back over. “I don’t think she really needs my advice. It sounds like she’s doing really well already, and their season is nearly over.”

“Uh... that wasn’t exactly what I meant.”

The door opened once more, swinging open with confidence this time rather than Sarah’s shy sidling or Poppy’s outsized effort. Matt strode in dressed all in black, from his shoes to his shirt, immediately making eye contact with his wife and breaking into a broad smile. He was clean shaven, neat as a pin aside from the deliberate opening in the top two buttons of his shirt, and not a single trace remained of the broken man who had been crying into the mirror that morning.

“Sarah!” he exclaimed warmly, giving no indication at all that he had just been told she wasn’t his soulmate, “You look incredible.” He glanced across, his smile faltering as his eyes caught on the pride badge on Poppy’s harness. “You look nice too, Poppy,” he said politely.

“Thank you,” she beamed at the compliment.

The colour slowly drained from Matt’s cheeks in the face of her unwavering positivity, and he looked away. Sarah wrapped a hand around his upper arm and leaned into him, supporting him physically as well as emotionally. She couldn’t offer much apart from her presence, but he could have as much or as little of that as he wanted.

“Good, you’re all here on time,” Scarlet said brightly as she appeared, skipping into the room even though she hadn’t been anywhere near it when Matt was arriving, “I’ve got a tough enough job synchronising these timelines without needing to synchronise you with each other as well.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah asked, furrowing her brow.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” The Host flapped a hand in reply, waving off the question. Matt pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Poppy didn’t react at all.

“Okay?” Sarah shuffled awkwardly, still clinging on to Matt, “Um. Are we going then?”

“Absolutely,” the manic ginger woman grinned and clapped her hands together, then spun about on the spot and pointed back at the doorway with a flourish. “Just through there.”

Matt followed her gesture, his mouth turning down in an exaggerated frown as he examined the huge archway with the corridor to the common room still clearly visible on the other side of it. “Really? Just through the door?”

“Yes?” she cocked her head to one side and squinted at him, “You cannot seriously be confused about what I can do with doorways by now.”

“I don’t know, I was just expecting a portal or something,” he shrugged with passive disinterest.

“Portals are for showoffs,” Scarlet snapped with a disgusted frown, “A normal doorway has perfectly good symbolism of thresholds and transitions, you don’t need to force a show of magical power to make a magic doorway of your own.”

“You set me on fire to transform me,” Sarah said suspiciously, “How is that not showing off?”

“That’s different,” the Host pointed a single finger, and Sarah recoiled from it, “Fire is change, and the TF ceremony benefits from the more overt themes. Dropping you off at a bachelorette party does not.”

“You’ve also definitely been showing off with your doorway magic,” Matt added.

“That... shut up,” she scowled, then made a shooing gesture, “Now off you go. No more delays.”

Matt and Sarah hesitated, but Poppy had been actually following along with the conversation for a change and quickly hopped off her chair and scurried away. Matt began to slowly follow, Sarah drawn along with him by her grip on his arm, and he watched Poppy closely, waiting for the moment when she crossed the threshold. It had never been clear to him what exactly happened when Scarlet did her teleportation trick, mainly because he had never known it was coming before. This time he knew. This time he’d make a start on figuring out how it worked.

“Oh, and Matt? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying with those comments, fishing for details about magic.”

His head snapped around so fast he nearly hurt his neck, but Scarlet was wearing an amused grin rather than a glare of disappointment. He quickly looked back to the door, but Poppy had already vanished from sight. He’d completely missed it happening.

“Right, sorry,” he muttered, eyes fixed firmly ahead as he continued onwards.

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, keeping pace behind him, “It’s not as dangerous as what you were trying to figure out this morning, but you’re just still a little premature on that one. Wouldn’t want him to be too premature now would we, wifey?”

Sarah spluttered, Matt laughed, both of them blushed, but the whole time Matt kept his eyes on the doorway. If he’d missed Poppy’s disappearance, then at least he wouldn’t miss his own. Three steps away. Two. One.

“Watch your footing, by the way,” Scarlet continued with impeccable timing, “The sand is pretty soft.”

“Sand?” Matt blinked in confusion, then stumbled as his foot sank into an unexpectedly unstable surface. He flailed, fell, and landed face first on a beach, with the sun beating down on his back and the sound of the sea lapping at the shore not too far away. “...dammit.”

“Matt?” Sarah asked cautiously, stood beside him and torn between looking down at him in concern and looking around in awe, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, picking himself up and dusting the fine white sand off his black jacket and trousers, “Just... never mind.”

They definitely weren’t in the castle anymore, even if Matt had been distracted at the moment of transition. An island paradise surrounded them, azure waves caressing the shoreline, verdant trees swaying in the gentle breeze, and beyond that the buildings of the hotel nestled sympathetically into the landscape. His attention was mainly drawn though, as always, by the people over the environment. A platoon of identical women, dark-haired and porcelain-skinned, waited at the top of the beach. In front of them, and slowly sashaying in their direction, an elegant lady with glossy auburn hair and kindly green eyes. Mildred(s) and Arabella somehow looked exactly how he had imagined them while reading.

Matt cleared his throat, adjusted his jacket so it lay straight across his shoulders, and fixed a winning smile on his face.

“Ready?” he asked Sarah, laying a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

“I think so,” she lied, smiling back at him, “Poppy?”

If the small woman heard her name, she ignored it completely. She had her camera up to her face and aimed firmly at the approaching Host, snapping a picture every couple of steps. Arabella didn’t appear to mind though, her visage serene as she reached Poppy first and patiently waited until the photographer had her fill and lowered the camera before greeting her.

“Welcome to The HH, Poppy Chen. My name is Arabella.” she said in an immaculate accent, then continued with some further words that Matt didn’t understand but vaguely recognised as Mandarin.

Poppy cocked her head to one side, blinked slowly, then replied with a few uncertain phrases of her own. Arabella nodded, gave a single word in the affirmative, then moved swiftly on.

“Sarah Hawkins, it’s a delight to have you here,” she said with a warmth and affection that only Matt had ever matched with her.

“Thank you,” an intimidated Sarah whispered in reply, fighting not to shrink in on herself.

“And you must be Matthew Hawkins,” Arabella turned to him, offering a delicate hand, “A pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Arabella,” he took the hand and shook it in a familiar and well-practiced motion, “I...” Whatever he had been about to say fell away as he looked into the Host’s eyes. He’d known she was old, and he’d known she was powerful, but being directly confronted with those emerald orbs took his breath away. There was a history in there that had outlived whole civilisations. Multiple histories.

She just smiled, warmly but knowingly, shook his hand once and then released it. “Now, where might your Host be?”

“Scarlet?” Matt blinked free from the feeling of vertigo and looked back over his shoulder at the empty sand, “I don’t know. She was right behind us.”

“Well I’m sure she’ll be along shortly,” Arabella said softly, with only the tiniest hint of disappointment, then gestured to the side where two of the many identical women stood waiting with an unearthly patience, “If you’ll follow Mildred, it will take you where you need to be.”

Poppy scurried forward without hesitation, while Matt and Sarah looked to each other first. Matt turned to face his wife, hesitated for a moment, then realised he didn’t know why he was hesitating and swept her up in a fierce hug that made her squeak with the force of it.

“Have fun,” he insisted, then kissed her on the forehead before releasing her, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she replied with a shy smile and a small blush.

They parted ways, one Mildred leading Matt away to the Banquet Hall and the bachelor party, while the other led Sarah and Poppy to the Dance Hall where the bachelorettes awaited. The married couple kept exchanging glances at each other until they left each other’s sight. Behind them, on the beach, Arabella stared out at the sea for a moment and then smoothly resumed her position to await the next group of guests.

Back in the throne room, Scarlet paused before leaving the castle. She lay one hand on the doorframe and looked closely at the stone, her expression unreadable. Then, she spun around and a showman’s smile split her face.

“Well, Audience, here we are. Our first major crossover event on only day three, and we’re jumping in at the deep end,” she announced to the empty room. “This wedding has been hundreds of chapters in the making and might be a little confusing for anyone who hasn’t read the millions of words leading up to it, but it’s going to be one hell of a show.”

She stepped away from the wall, arms spread wide, the orange quill dancing between her fingers.

“There will be varying degrees of spoilers for dozens of other seasons of this show, but especially the Andy Cooper branch. If you can cope with that, then I’d encourage you to follow along, and be sure to check out the side branches. These crossover events are a great way to find new favourites, and if you’re intrigued by a particular character then the Dramatis Personae will let you know where they can be found when they’re back at home. If you’re not sure, just ask.

“Amongst the chaos you’ll also find Matt getting more advice than he knows what to do with, Sarah admitting some things to a kindred spirit that she’s never said aloud before, Poppy making a new best friend and getting some therapy, and you can even join me and the other Hosts for some reminiscing.”

Scarlet’s bright persona flickered for a moment. Her yellow eyes went distant and misty with a memory that she didn’t have yet. “If you’re only going to read one of these chapters, make it that one,” she said quietly, “That’s... that’s an important one. Doesn’t even really have any spoilers.” She shook herself, her smile returned, “But if you’re the kind of person who lets a fear of spoilers stop you from enjoying things, then you can skip over them. We’ll jump back here afterwards, and anything important will be recapped. Just know that you’re missing out on something spectacular.”

The Host turned back to face the doorway, her smile softening into something more real than it had been before.

“Either way, I’ll see you on the other side,” she said softly, then strode forward and disappeared in a way that couldn’t be described.