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#which can be used to purchase items to dress up the doll that serves as your avatar on the forums
an-aura-about-you · 4 months
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you ever see a post where a person says a thing, another person says, "That's definitely not true," regarding the first post, and you actually DO remember the thing being true but it's such an inconsequential, niche thing that you know it's not worth it to make it an addition on that post?
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quiltsummer95 · 2 years
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Considering Games? You Have To Check This Out!
Will you reminisce fondly on the instances you invested playing with excellent toys as being a little one? If you have, you will be definitely encouraged to get similarly wonderful goods for your little ones or grandkids. The good news is, the tips and assistance that follow under can serve as a good guide that will help you do just that. When selecting a stuffed toy for any younger youngster, if in doubt, pick something which will stimulate their detects. Buying a gadget for a person quite younger could be quite difficult. Toys and games that are vibrantly tinted, make noise, or use a specific structure is going to be equally entertaining and academic for that little one. When you child can be a biter, you have to be sure that this toys and games you get for him do not possess reduce elements. Even if a plaything is suggested for a child grow older 3 or more mature, if your more aged kid can be a biter, that toy remains unsafe for him. Check out the age group boundaries of any toy you are looking for purchasing. These grow older boundaries aren't there exclusively for display. Actual studies have been dedicated to it for your personal child's basic safety. Toys designated to be used previously mentioned your child's present age could include modest parts and sharper ends that may really hurt a younger one. If you are searching for games for your child, consider thrift outlets. Sometimes you will discover gently employed playthings that happen to be still in great problem. Preschoolers can be rough on toys. There exists truly absolutely no reason why you need to acquire a completely new one once your kid can take advantage of a quality employed a single. When buying games for young kids, make sure you choose ones that are age suitable. Games designed for older children may contain little components. These tiny parts might provide a choking hazard to young kids. Therefore, it is important that you end up picking gifts which are era right for younger kids. It is possible to find carefully employed toys and games on Craigslist. If you take a look at an ad, look into the dress in of the plaything. It is easy to get secondhand toys in excellent condition. It will help you locate some terrific deals. If you are purchasing a gadget on an infant or possibly a youngster below 3, make certain there are actually no little pieces. When youngsters are of a younger era, they have a tendency to savor adding objects in their mouth area. The thing is, they could choke when they take small toy components. You can examine the content label of most playthings there is certainly typically a warning label if little pieces are present. Introduce your younger kid to music by providing him gadget instruments that he can start to play on. A toys piano with sizeable, multi-colored tactics is definitely a popular. Your kids can try out creating up his very own tunes. Many plaything equipment come with a enjoy together alternative which means your youngster can pay attention to the background music and enjoy concurrently. If you are searching for a distinctive gift item, look at purchasing a customized gift. An excellent plaything for the unique young girl is a doll that accompanies its very own list of custom made adoption papers. These reports will checklist the child's brand since the mother or father together with the doll's full name. Browsing consignment outlets and thrift retailers is definitely an affordable method of getting "new" games for your personal child. However, you ought to clean them extensively prior to providing them on the youngster. You don't know what sort of viruses are saved to the plaything. The significantly less you must buy a toy, the higher your encounter. Look for 성인용품 before you make any on the internet gadget transactions. Most large-name merchants offer special offers for getting on the internet. A lot of discount internet sites distribute promo code phone numbers will save a little cash. Just do a simple research to get them. Tend not to buy young preschoolers any toys and games that contain detachable batteries or magnets. Both these points can be very bad if swallowed. It's your task to be certain the gadget you happen to be getting meets the appropriate safety requirements for a child of the age group. Read the labeling of your stuffed toy exactly.
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Search for stuffed toy recalls prior to buying a used plaything. A person promoting it could not have access to any concept if it was recalled. It's up to you to find out prior to you making the purchase. Fast on the internet queries will generate the important information to keep your little ones secure. No matter how significantly you might think a youngster will enjoy a stuffed toy, focus on warnings and suggestions. Factors such as era, ability and attention are usually rather precise about the wrapping. Also keep an eye out for toys which can be especially fire retardant or resilient. Children want to imitate what their parents do. Allow them to have props that are exactly like the particular products which you employ and dress in. Should you invest a lot of time cooking, provide them with their very own pans. You can buy numerous functional playthings for your personal child. In case you are buying playthings to get a young child, try out picking items that are called being non-poisonous. There are several games on the market that seem to be entertaining, ye many of them cause a danger to your child. Being conscious in the toxicity of the things that you get will keep your son or daughter safe. Examine every stuffed toy in your house routinely for injury. Anyone products which are cracked should be discarded right away. You need to do this to stop any chance of injury to your young ones or anybody else seeing the property. You may not need to do it for anxiety about wasting money or distressing your youngsters, but actual safety factors are constantly the best priority. Merely surfing around various gadget internet sites will be really valuable. Try to find critiques by other buyers to find out which toys and games convey more hype than genuine benefit. You do not wish to squander your hard earned money on the stuffed toy that splits quickly or is simply not exciting. Nearly anyone can keep in mind their favorite toys and games being raised. In order to move that kind of joy into the children in your own existence, there are surely approaches to achieve this. Make use of the fabric presented over, and the procedure of having the best toys without the need of emptying your wallet could be much easier.
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theveryworstthing · 3 years
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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.
The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.
I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.
Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.
10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.
The Parents
From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.
Or while it was still bleeding.
If she was into that.
Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.
Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.
And he always gets his due.
He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.
Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~
Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.
Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.
This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.
Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?
Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.
Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.
What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.
Mortesha would know.
The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.
Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.
The Children
Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.
Anyway.
Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!
Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.
Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.
I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.
Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.
She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.
Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.
Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  
That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.
Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.
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the-broken-truth · 3 years
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Alcina headcanon / male reader, please! on how the reader treats his sweet wife and his adorable princess daughters. 👨/🐾 (WOLF)/👑
Broken Truth: WOLF ROYAL!!! I've been waiting for the chance to write about a royal and I have the perfect words for this, so let them weave together!!!
[Location: The Unknown Kingdom in Romania]
The loud but slow creak of the grand doors of the castle rung out as they were pushed inward by two massive hands that were covered in first with claws for fingers and pads on the bottom of each finger and thumb. The creaking came to a stop when the doors opened completely and a large figure stepped foot in the grand place with a wide smile upon his face.
"I am home!" He howled out with a smile on his face, that smile widened when the two large triangular ears on top of his head locked on to the sounds of 3 sets of feet running to his location from 3 different directions but they all reached him at the same time which made his tail wag with happiness.
"PAPA!" The voices of 3 females called out as the young women leaped in the arms of the large humanoid wolf dressed in royal garments.
"My Girls!" He barked as he wrapped his arms around the 3 smaller figures, "I am happy to see you all." He smiled at the girls in his arms.
"You're late, Papa!" The Blonde-Haired Girl said as she glared at her father with a pout on her face.
"I know. Please forgive me, Bela; the council meeting was longer than I thought it was going to be and the Grand Elder needed to speak with the other Royal Alphas about something important." He said to his eldest.
"Grandpa was at the Council Meeting, too?" The brown-haired daughter asked.
"He was, Cassandra. He is the Grand Elder, thus he needs to be there to make sure there is no fighting at the council meetings." He explained.
"What was the situation this time? Did Uncle Alastor cause trouble again?" asked the red-haired daughter.
"That he did, Dani. You know your uncle is always known for causing trouble. Speaking of which - did your uncles Salvatore or Karl come by while I was away? Or Aunt Donna?" The large wolf asked as he sat his daughter upon their feet.
"No, sir. Our Aunts and Uncles are still dealing with the village repairs; they did send a letter that the preparations are almost done and any traces of the Cadou are almost completely gone." Bela explained as she adjusted the golden ring crown around her forehead - it was bear with the exception of a large red gem in the center of the crown.
"That's good. By the way, where is your mother? I have something special for her." The large wolf smiled.
"She's in her wine room." Cassandra said as she pointed down the hall that leads to the room in question.
"Thank you. And before you ask - yes, I did come back with gifts but I need to give your mother's her first." He said to the girls.
"We understand, Papa. We'll see you at dinner." Dani said as she and her sisters began walking away to do their own things. He smiled at his daughters before starting on his way.
At this point, you're probably wondering: Who is this Wolf-Man? Why are the girls calling him 'papa'? Why does he live in a castle?
Well - it all started after the Fall of the High Priestess, The Destruction of the Village, & a simple purchase from a very fat and happy merchant.
[Flashback to the Past]
A cloaked figure approached the Carriage of the Duke and the Wolfish Muzzle that peered from the muzzle made the fat man smile.
"It's been years, Lord Wolfson. What can I procure for you this day?" Duke asked with a wide smile on his face.
"I believe you already have to items I desire, Duke. The items I need are different but they are all the same in a way." The cloaked beast said with a sternness in his voice.
"And what way is that, Lord Wolfson?" The fat man smiled.
"I need those that belonged to self - was altered by a trusted serpent - but ripped away by a dying creature." The Wolf Lord said, the Duke smiled at him before turning to his carriage and withdrew 7 Boxes - some larger than others, the sight of the boxes made the wolfman smile like a Cheshire Cat.
Golden coins with ruby centerpieces were dropped into the chubby hand of the Duke before the cloaked creature took the boxes and turned tail to return to his dwelling.
After 4 weeks of the purchase - 7 sets of eyes opened and shoot up in the soft beds of the unknown room of the unknown place where they rested. The tallest of the bunch ran over to the 3 girls who shared a face and used them as if they would disappear again while a large but fit silver-haired man looked at his reflection in a nearby vanity - unbelieving what he was seeing. The people gathered together and began to speak to each other - remembering their ends and curious as to where they were and how they got there. When the door of the room opened and a wolf that stood on 2 legs, dressed in fine garments that were tailored to him, walked in the room and looked upon the group before he cleared his voice to speak.
"I am Lord [Y/N] Wolfson - Alpha of the Crimson District of the Lycan Royal Court. You are very confused and probably wondering where you all are, allow me to explain. The Village you once knew & the leader who once served are no longer in existence - your crystal remains were soul to an old friend of mine and I brought them in order to restore you." Lord Wolfson said.
"You brought our remains and brought us back to life?! So what?! You think you own us?!" The Former 4th Lord yelled at the taller beast.
"No, Karl Heisenberg. I brought you back because you were robbed of the lives you once had or the lives you were promised. What you choose to do with your lives is for you to decide but I do have an offer I would like you to listen to before you leave." He explained.
"What is this offer?" asked the Former 2nd Lord as she held her lifeless doll in her arms.
"I am the Alpha or King of this region but I have some...matters that can overshadow even the strongest of kings. I would like you to take control of the Extinct Royal Houses, as well as the lands that fall under them. You'd be in charge of the people who reside there but still have to report to me each month. You will obtain all the riches they possessed before death and any titles they held, the names: Dimitrescu, Beneviento, Moreau, and Heisenberg will be documented as Royal Names and shall never be removed. Do we have a deal?" The tall wolf asked as he looked at the group before him.
They all looked at each other before accepting his offer - they all got dressed and followed the wolfman to an elegant meeting room.
Donna Beneviento became Baroness Donna Beneviento - Ruler of the Eastern District where the shops were located.
Salvatore Moreau became Baron Salvatore Moreau - Ruler of the Western District, also known as the Fishing District/Fishing Village.
Karl Heisenberg became Baron Karl Heisenberg - Ruler of the Southern District - the Soldiers and Weapons District.
"And what of my daughters & I?" Alcina asked as she looked a the Wolf Lord, who grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.
"I would be ever so grateful if you and your daughters remained here with me and ruled the Central and Northern Districts with me." He asked as he bowed his head and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, which she smiled at.
After a few months - Baroness Alcina Dimitrescu became Queen/Luna Dimitrescu, The Wife of the King while the Dimitrescu Daughters were made princesses.
[Back to the Present]
"Alcina, My Sun & Sky. I have returned." [Y/N] said as he walked into the wine room to see his wife relaxing in her chair with a glass of wine in her hand and a book in her lap. She looked at her husband with a smile before closing the book, setting down the wine, moved them both aside before rising to her feet, and walked over to his husband who wrapped his arms around her to give her a kiss.
"My love, I am so happy you're home. When did you return?" Alcina asked.
"Just a moment ago - our little bugs swarmed me at the door when I called out but I wanted to spend time with the light of my life first." He said as he smiled at her.
"I am glad, My Wolf." She hugged him close and the two of them just stood there - wrapped in each others' embrace.
There was no place they'd rather be.
[End]
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dollsahoy · 3 years
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My Top Five Things that I have personally done to get my own sewing to look less home made, but not necessarily hand made/couture
1. Pay attention to grainlines, and square them up before cutting. Learning that natural fibers will rip on the grain from selvedge to selvedge, and then how to gently tug the fabric on the bias to get it square if needed, helped me immensely with getting things to hang correctly once sewn. Also helpful: learning that even wovens--especially with natural fibers--have a slight stretch from selvedge to selvedge has helped me not only figure out the grain direction on fabric pieces that have no selvedge (which I use a lot when cutting out doll clothes, but has helped with larger projects a few times) but also helps determine which pieces are OK to cut on the cross grain if yardage is less than the pattern calls for, especially keeping in mind that the pattern was designed with the crossgrain stretch in mind in places like pull-over shirts or close-fitting bodices or drapey skirts.
2. Edges, like necklines, are best finished by sewing other things to them. Facing and interfacing pieces seem like extra work to annoy you, but they really do serve the structure of the garment, helping openings like necklines lay flat, and also reinforcing the areas around buttons. On knits, applying ribbing to make a neckband also may seem like more work than just folding and stitching, but the extra work pays off in a cleaner finish. As can applying lace to a hem (more on other approaches to hems later.) For interfacing, different fabric weights work best with different interfacing weights. Sometimes? I use a lightweight fabric for interfacing instead of the iron-on stuff, because I am ambivalent about ironing even though
3. Making every seam flat after sewing it is important. Making everything as flat as possible before sewing it to the next piece means the seam intersections are going to be nice and smooth. Now, most people make the seams flat by pressing with an iron. Me, though...I tend to edge stitch and then maybe also top stitch, depending on the style of the garment I'm making--the more formal an item, the fewer stitches should be visible in the finished garment. The stuff I tend to make? Edge stitching and top stitching are completely appropriate
4. Swap presser feet and use sewing gadgets aplenty I almost never use a standard zigzag presser foot when I sew. For that edge stitching I love? I use a straight stitch presser foot and align the edge of the item with the inside of the right prong, and then when I top stitching I align with the outside of that prong. I even do narrow zigzagging, usually densely as a satin stitch on appliqués or widely spaced to attach elastic to doll clothes, with the straight stitch foot. Buttonholes? Vintage cam-controlled buttonhole sewing machine attachment. Sewing on flat buttons? I have a presser foot that holds them in place while they're zigzagged on. Doll clothes are hemmed with a narrow edge roller foot, and my own casual dresses are hemmed with a larger edge roller that bolts to my sewing machine bed. I will use the zigzag foot + an edge guide to sew blind hems on the machine for nicer stuff. You all know my love of the ruffler foot contraption. Because mass produced items are all made with these specialized attachments (although some are entire machines and not just attachments), so, if you're aiming less for "couture sewing" and more for "yes I made this and I didn't have to deal with the frustration of using a general-purpose presser foot to do specialized things, so I finished it faster than I would have otherwise" then there're no problems
5. Most purchased clothes use the most inconspicuous, generic buttons. This is the one that I acknowledge is the biggest personal judgement call. But. In terms of me, personally? I long ago started to feel like fancy, perfectly themed buttons were making my own things look like they were indeed made with stuff entirely from JoAnn. Because who doesn't love fun and fancy buttons! Garment manufacturers, that's who. Again, this only applies if your goal is to make things that look like they could conceivably have been mass produced. Fun and fancy buttons do absolutely have their place in other styles of sewing. I, personally, though, now find a lot of joy in the variations in faux tortoise shell buttons 😀
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dennou-translations · 4 years
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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 6
Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases here.
← Previous || Index || Afterword →
The Postal Company and the Auto-Memories Doll
   The current times were labeled as the era of postal business flood.
Within a continent that congregated small countries, the people who operated in the mail industry competed ruthlessly against one another. Putting it very simply, the situation of postal companies throughout the continent was of stealing each other’s customers.
Clients chose their mail agency of use and requested deliveries on their own. The reasons for the choices would be fees, deliverable areas, and of course, even the postmen’s degree of courtesy was a subject of deliberation. Taking all of those into account, they would pick one postal company from somewhere.
At present, as the management structure of postal corporations was becoming devoted to carrying the side-business of amanuensis “Auto-Memories Dolls” rather than only delivering mailed items, others were unable to establish a position in the market if their work leaned towards the latter. The more the competition increased, the more obvious the differences in services would become, and, as the superior and inferior ones would grow evident, the losing side would inevitably close down their company.
Within such harsh rivalry, in a certain country named Leidenschaftlich, located in the continent’s southern coast, there was a postal agency so-called CH Postal Service had boomed its name throughout the industry. Although it was a newly introduced company that had but a few years since being founded, its reputation was exceptional. The degree of customer satisfaction was high, and there was abundance of re-users.
On a general view, there were two motives behind its good results.
The first one was that the CH Postal Service had no restrictions to its areas of delivery. Should a client desire, it would deliver to any part of the globe. Of course, fees were imposed for remote places, yet that was the first attempt in the industry of pulling such a feat. Even existing postal agencies disputing for a leading position in the industry had determined delivery areas. The CH Postal Service delivered even to regions of conflict, therefore being a great help for customers whose family members or lovers found themselves in battlegrounds. Its patrons increasing in numbers was something logical. However, succeeding in doing such a thing as though it were extremely natural was terribly difficult for ordinary companies. The CH Postal Service was in condition to go anywhere for a client’s sake, as it had assembled the personnel and system capable of making it possible – therefore, it had managed to do so.
The second reason was that there existed a top star in CH Postal Service, who had come into sight in the Auto-Memories Doll business like a comet. Seeing her walk around the city would cause people to do double takes at her looks, and hearing her voice would paint their cheeks red out of fascination. She was a perfect beauty that seemed to have come out of a mythological legend. As of late, a play that the famous dramatist Oscar had written using her image had been announced and gained popularity, making her renowned even outside of the industry as per synergy.
People probably envisioned just what type of woman she was. Mostly, their expectations were betrayed in good ways. She was a woman that surpassed the categorical components of imagination.
Her name was Violet Evergarden.
The largest trading place of the continent was a port that served as a gate from and to the sea. It was a national interest of Leidenschaftlich’s, as well as a trigger for wars. Countless other countries had attempted to invade it, seeking its abundant resources and a privileged location.
Although the city was at financial ease with the prosperity of its economy, scars of old battles remained in some places. The symbols of long military service from the past had not been etched solely in protection walls or stone-paved roads. It could be said that the fountain built in the capital Leiden during the celebration of Leidenschaftlich’s hundredth anniversary was its most well-known marking.
Consisting of a total of nine goddess statues holding water vases on their shoulders, it worked in a way that groundwater poured out them. Despite it being a gem made by a nationally employed artist, the goddesses had their necks chopped off. It remained unfixed, for the sake of not letting anyone forget Leidenschaftlich’s disgrace in authorizing the invasion of another country’s castle town.
In spite of being a major commercial nation, it was a military state. There were armed soldiers amidst the lively cityscapes even during times of peace.
The members of the CH Postal Company had such country as their home.
“Oh, what’cha doing?”
“My.”
“It has been a while.”
Under a beautiful autumn sky, a group that rarely gathered met in front of the headless goddesses’ fountain. They were two women and one man.
“If it isn’t Cattleya and V. Have you come out to welcome the great me, unable to wait for my return?”
Leaving his motorcycle parked by the roadside and heartily eating grilled chicken was a postman clad in a glass-green shirt. His slender boots of cross-shaped heels gave out a devious sex appeal. Hidden behind sandy-blond hair, his light blue eyes were provocative. His unmanly, soft facial features were not gentle. It was Benedict Blue, who worked at the CH Postal Company.
“What’re you saying? I’m gonna ask again: what’re you saying? T-There’s no way I’d come pick you up! I just went out shopping as an errand for my beloved President. Violet, say something too. To this platform shoes man. Nobody called for you.”
The one who spoke as if to smooth things over with a moody voice was a beautiful woman of gracefully wavy dark hair. She had amethyst eyes and an hourglass shape. Brimming with enough sensuality to enslave the opposite sex, her body was enveloped in a carmine dress-coat with a waist ribbon, yet was about to burst out of it. She was Cattleya Baudelaire, who also worked at the CH Postal Company.
“You two, you are being too loud out in the street.”
Reproaching the duo with a voice of silver bells was an elegantly beautiful girl dressed up like a porcelain doll. Said person had a hairband made of embroidery lace sitting on her hair as it spread out in waves and was wearing a one-piece with plenty of such lace sewn to it, along with a chiffon trench coat.
“V.”
“Violet.”
She was Violet Evergarden, the top Auto-Memories Doll of the CH Postal Company, whose blue eyes enthralled those who looked at them, as did the emerald-green brooch sitting on her chest.
Benedict and Cattleya turned toward Violet, changing the addressee of their impressions in unison.
“What’s up with you?”
“Really, Violet, you’re pretty fired-up. You’re letting your hair down? Are you on a date?”
Pressed on by the two, the Auto-Memories Doll that the CH Postal Company had pride in, Violet Evergarden, cast her gaze to the ground. “Lady Tiffany... someone from my home arranged everything, but is it that strange?” Her voice sounded slightly embarrassed.
Cattleya observed Violet with a gentle look. “It’s not strange. You’re cute enough not to lose to me. Are you going to see the major?”
“Yes. It is still early for the meeting time, so I was going to buy a book for me to bring along.”
“That’s great; you’re looking forward to it, huh! Hey, she doesn’t look weird, right, Benedict?” Cattleya rejoiced without restraint.
“Tch,” Benedict clicked his tongue.
It had truly been a long while since the three of them had last gathered. That was only natural. At the CH Postal Company, everyone worked industriously every day. There were sporadic occasions in which they would be grouped on duty, but that was only when they managed to miraculously coordinate their schedules. They were mates who had been hired by their president at about the same time, so to say.
Benedict threw away the bones of the meat he had just eaten onto the road, peeking at Violet’s face while licking off the oil remaining on his hand. “Hu~n, well, isn’t it fine? Nice work.”
Although their faces were close, Violet stared back at him with her huge orbs without bending backwards.
Benedict flatly thrust a fingertip at her forehead in-between one big eye and another. “But the one who gets to walk you around gotta be me. As your older brother part, I can’t accept my little sister part getting eaten down by an old man. I’m better. ‘Cause I’m young and cool.”
It could be said that someone who had the nerve to say such a thing so imposingly was quite a rare type even amongst humanity.
With an aspect of irritation, Cattleya interjected, “A third party is gonna be telling you this, but Mr. Gilbert is super wonderful, is an adult man and I know Violet’s head-over-heels for him, so you’re the one who’s uncalled-for here!”
“What does ‘head-over-heels’ mean?” Violet immediately reacted to the term she was unused to hearing.
“It’s like being obsessed. Didn’t you say that the major was the only one for you?”
“I did say that, indeed.” Her brows furrowed as if she were troubled, her blue eyes slightly moist. She was most likely “embarrassed”. Perhaps becoming unable to say anything else, Violet wound up turning her face away.
The feeling of affection for that awkward girl, the envy towards her happiness and the complicated emotions from having a friend taken away by a man traveled across Benedict and Cattleya’s minds. Therefore, in order to dismiss it all, the two silently decided to ball their fists, pushing and kicking Violet left and right.
“Shit. Don’t go acting cute. You’re just a battlefield maniac.”
“Really, it pisses me off. You’re as strong as a bear! But you’re adorable.”
Perhaps not feeling any pain, or perhaps trying to figure out how to deal with such a situation, she resigned quietly and accepted the unwarranted violence. As seen from the sidelines, it looked like something close to bullying, but Violet was actually the one with highest combat capacity amongst them. When the physical strength of the three was put together, that sort of thing was no more than playing around.
“Listen, don’t let him touch you carelessly, all right? This is amazing, though. You’re like a fluffy dog. Cattleya, you try touching too.”
“Hey, don’t you go carelessly touching her with those hands either! Even the insolence of getting meat juices on a maiden’s hair has a limit! Stop it!”
“It’s fine, ain’t it? It’s not like I just got outta the toilet.”
“Eh, does that mean... you never wash your hands!? Right? That’s what it is, right? No waaay! Violet, hey, come here. Benedict, don’t you get near us! It’s my turf from beyond this point! I’ll beat the hell out of you for territory violation if you come over!”
As Cattleya swung her legs, enveloped in Suède boots, to draw a line on the ground, Benedict opposed to it in a level as low as the next person, not losing to her. He picked a dead branch from the root of a roadside tree and did the same as she had. “Haah~? Then I’ll make everything beyond this point into my turf! Speaking of which, the way to your beloved president’s head office is behind me, so don’t you go back to it either!”
“Ah~, that’s unfair! It’s. Not. Fair!”
“It’s not unfair~! You’re the one who came up with it first~!”
It was a child-like action for members of society to take. Violet, the youngest one, regarded them with interest as if she were watching a dispute between animals of a new species.
That was a short-lived period of peace before an uproar occurred.
   At the same moment, in the same country, within the same city, time flowed peacefully inside the head office of the CH Postal Company, nobody aware of the nightmare that would approach them a few minutes later.
The business firm was erected in an alley away from the main street, projecting itself in the very sense of the word over rows of small shops. It consisted of a spire with a light green, dome-shaped roof and a weathercock on display, a deep green roof that spread out as if to surround said spire, and outer walls made of red bricks that had been sunburned into a tasteful color. The iron plate on the arch-shaped front gate made known the name of the company with letters printed in gold.
Should one open the door, a cheerful-sounding bell would announce the arrival of a customer. Upon coming in, one would soon find the counter, which was the sector where the reception of postal items took place. The building had three floors, with the first being the reception desk, the second being the office and the spire in the third one being the president’s residence.
No matter how far it was from the main street, the building was quite expensive. Its owner – an individual referred by the members of the CH Postal Company as “President” and “Old Man” – was drinking black tea with brandy at a balcony that had an unbroken view of the city.
“I’m so brilliant that it’s scary.”
He was a lady-killer good-looking enough to display self-indulgent behavior. His age was around the thirties. He had droopy grayish blue eyes, red hair grown slightly long, a manly build, and although he was not young, he had soft facial traits that exuded sophisticated simplicity. His appearance seemed to earn the envy and jealousy from other men of the same generation as him. His leather boots shone lustrously without a single stain, polished perhaps out of obsession.
“President Hodgins!”
The one who had yelled into the room was a girl of innocent features. She was the possessor of velvety, evenly cut lavender-gray hair that stopped above her shoulders. She had large eyes, a small head and a petite body. It was still the physique of a young child, but the heterochromatic orbs from behind the glasses she wore bore a stunning suspiciousness that was mysterious even. She was a person who the word “lovely” fit perfectly.
“Please say so after you’ve finished work!”
However, her conduct had presence as the secretary of a self-centered chairman.
Hodgins retorted mildly, “Little Lux, what I need right now isn’t brutal working hours but relaxation time feeling the gentle autumn air and drinking tea.”
“Even if you say that with a nice voice, it sounds like nothing but running away from reality! Please; if you at least put the stamps, I’ll bring you as many cups of tea as you want! Tomorrow is the deadline! We have to clear up most papers today and submit to the concerned parties in lots of places tomorrow! It’s the Flying Letters all over again!”
“You’re already my Miss Secretary through and through. I’m so happy. You used to look like a scared little rabbit when you arrived here, but aren’t you a fine working lady now? This feeling that I was the one who raised you is exceptional, huh?”
“President Hodgins! Please! Take the stamp! If you hold it, I can move you to stamping it... I’ll also read out the documents to you...”
“Then, Little Lux, doesn’t it make no difference if you’re the one doing the stamping?”
“I’d do it if I could! All that’s left is the stuff that demands the president’s confirmation, so just get on with it!”
“That ordering tone with formal language coming from a teenage girl is giving me unbearable creeps... Hm, Little Lux, hey. You don’t look bad with a shirt-blouse and a long flared skirt, but why don’t you try changing your outfit? I think I’d recommend a black apron dress over a puffed sleeve shirt, black tights and red enamel shoes.”
“Please listen to what I say!” The figure that had once been worshiped as a demigoddess at the headquarters of a cultist organization was absent in Lux Sibyl – what was there instead was the figure of a half-crying subordinate attempting to convince her vain superior.
Lux had been working serious and untiringly ever since being brought over by Violet and hired into the CH Postal Company. Perhaps having incorporated a methodical personality, she was now entrusted with even the duty of president’s secretary, yet she always had a hard time with said easygoing president.
The competence that the man named Hodgins had for business was unquestionable, yet his self-amusement principles were extreme and he would not stop fooling around even when having piles of work to do. Keeping his day-by-day in check was Lux’s role. In worse times, she would have to search for him and pick him up at brothels in red-light districts.
“If you don’t put the stamps, the one who will die isn’t you, President, but myself.”
Lux was tired of it.
“No way. I’ll put the stamps. I’ll put them, I’ll put them. Don’t make such a depressed face. Little Lux, you’re too pessimistic. Also, you take everything too literally. I told you that eighty percent of the things I say are random, right? Poise yourself more at ease. Let’s enjoy everything. Even the troublesome stuff.”
“President... you seem like you’d say this even if you had a hole opened in your stomach... I’m jealous.”
“Thanks. I’m the type that grows through getting compliments.”
She had wanted to convey something that was no compliment, yet it did not turn into words as Lux wound up having her attention stolen by something else. Lux’s golden and reddish heterochromatic eyes caught a strange thing in the skies against the beautiful cityscape that was visible from the balcony.
“President Hodgins... Over there, something is...”
At the same time as she spoke, Hodgins forcefully dragged Lux’s body, held her up and jumped to the end of the room. Lux was squeezed tightly against Hodgins’s chest, not allowed to even scream or raise her voice in confusion.
A few seconds thereafter, the sound of an explosion ensued.
   “Do you not hear some sort of noise?” Violet’s leveled voice eventually came between Benedict and Cattleya, who were having a scuffle fight. Her blue orbs were looking up at the sky, sighting a black object that passed by in a flash.
And it struck one of the classy buildings among the cityscape of Leiden.
“The head office is under attack!” No sooner than she said so, Violet bolted from the place. She slipped through people standing still with their mouths open, their attention taken away by the explosion sound that had reverberated through the idyllic early afternoon.
“No way, no way! Eeh?! What about the President!?”
“Get on, you idiot.”
Benedict had mounted on his bike before long. After whispering lowly, he swung a hand around Cattleya’s back, all too easily lifted her up, sat her on his knees and simultaneously turned on the engine, taking off.
“Wai—! Doing that all of a sudden is scary! It’s scaryyy!” Cattleya shouted, clinging to Benedict’s neck.
“Move! Move! Y’all are in the way!”
A young woman who was selling flower bouquets with a mobile catering fell on the spot, the horse of her carriage letting out a neigh. Ignoring the situation of the traffic in the street, Benedict rampantly chased after Violet. He gradually got closer to her figure, which had already become the size of a bean grain.
Benedict stretched out his hand. “V!”
Violet had been running at an astonishing speed, but upon hearing Benedict’s voice, she nimbly hopped onto his motorcycle. The two of them, who had a mutual understanding without the invitation of “get on”, exchanged words while paying no mind to the scandalized Cattleya.
“That sound was of Leidenschaftlich style artillery.”
“Did you see the cannonball’s firing position?”
“There is no mistake that it came flying from the west side of the city. Look, smoke is coming out of the head office’s third floor. If we suppose that it was shot from somewhere just as high, we can restrict the location, right?”
“It struck Old Man’s apartment, so there’s too many suspects.”
“How can you be so calm!? The President might’ve died!” Cattleya glared daggers at Benedict and Violet, yet the expressions that two had on were different from normal times. She quieted down without thinking.
“No way we wouldn’t be worried, right...!?” Benedict spoke even for Violet’s part.
The motorcycle that the three of them rode let out a roar while going up the slope.
   Caught under a bookshelf, Hodgins was straddled over Lux with his hands so as not to squash her. Lux looked up at him, dumbfounded.
“Little Lux, you can... you can take it slow, but sneak off from under me.”
The glass of the windows had shattered and scattered all over the place. The president’s desk, which was an order-made one designed by a master craftsman, had been smashed to fragments. The carpet had turned into ember and the room was starting to envelope in flames.
“President Hodgins... I-I’m sorry!” Lux crawled out, attempting to somehow lift the shelf with her powerless arms. However, it did not even budge.
“I’m fine, I’m fine. Man~, I’d been skipping push-ups lately so this is taking a toll on me... Heave-ho.”
The instant he put on strength and lifted the bookshelf all at once, he rolled away and escaped from being crushed. He was the bearer of a considerable muscle strength.
Hodgins stood up and looked around the room. The look in his eyes was no longer the earlier one of a slacker chairman.
“Sorry; you okay?” Only the gentleness in his voice was the same as always.
“Why are you apologizing, President?”
“‘Cause this was an attack aimed at me, no matter how you think of it. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give your parents.”
“I don’t have parents.”
“That’s right. Then, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give you. Now, we gotta check if the other employees are all right...”
“Anyhow, let’s go downstairs; we’ll both burn to death if we stay like this!” Making a snap decision, Lux ran to the stairs that led to the lower floor.
Planning to go down through the balcony’s emergency stairs, Hodgins desperately called out to her, “Little Lux! Wait up!”
However, before Lux flew out the door, it opened automatically. Hodgins saw a brusque arm stretching before his eyes and taking ahold of Lux. She was dragged into the darkness and her frame disappeared.
“Little Lux...?”
By the moment that Lux reappeared before Hodgins, whose lips twitched, there was as a muzzle aimed at her temple. The one who pushed her forward while holding onto her shoulder was a man clad in a completely black suit. Six other men dressed the same way revealed themselves in succession. Hodgins’s gaze gradually became grimmer.
“How do you do, Claudia Hodgins?” The man referred to Hodgins by the name that he made sure not to call himself by. It was the name his parents had come up with while convinced that he was going to be born a girl.
Breaking into a distorted smile, Hodgins replied, “You’re truly one refreshing shitface, Salvatore Ridaudo.”
Salvatore smiled sarcastically as well. His hair was fixed with balm to the point there was not a single disheveled thread. He was the possessor of wood-brown droopy eyes, thick lips and skin as pale as wax.
“So, what is it you wanna do by shooting a cannonball into my office and thrusting a gun at my secretary?”
“My, good job figuring out that it was our doing.”
“I have a rough idea of it, but can’t you tell me… Mr. President of the Salvatore Postal Company? All that comes to me is that my academic background in the Military School was below yours.”
“How modest... What are you, an up-and-coming entrepreneur whose name everyone knows in the mail business nowadays, talking about? It’s very obvious what I’m after, right? The Salvatore Postal Company and the CH Postal Company. Two agencies competing for deployment in Leidenschaftlich. The fact that the other party is a nuisance certainly applies to you too, but I’m the one who’s been in this industry for the longest time. I can’t contain my frustration. Your way of doing things is... Anyway, I want you to obediently come with us. I wish to have a talk at a quiet place. If you do that, we’ll go home without inflicting a single injury on this cute lady and the rest of the employees.”
For someone running a postal firm, he was a disturbing individual. Calling him an underground chief would be more frankly agreeable. The men in all-black under his control did not seem to be respectful individuals either.
“Think you’ll get to live in peace after doing something like this? The military police’s coming over soon.”
“Seems like you have contacts in the military, but I myself have strong connections too. The military police monitoring this area won’t move an inch. I had them promise that they’d pretend not to hear anything the whole day, no matter how much noise we make. Claudia... Excuse me; is it okay to call you by your first name?”
Hodgins gritted his teeth to the point they let out a creak. “Go ahead. It’s the name that my beloved parents gave me.”
“Then, Claudia. If we keep talking so leisurely, we’ll both scorch. I want you to come along with us on your own feet.”
“Got it, I’ll go over there. But leave my secretary here.”
At those words, Salvatore went blank. He cast his gaze at Lux, who – perhaps from too much fear – had tears naturally welling up in her eyes, and broke into a smile that was rather merciful for an enemy.
And then suddenly punched her on the cheek.
His eyes open wide, Hodgins’s expression visibly dyed itself in rage. “You...! You laid your hand on a woman!!”
A man from the back gave her support as she seemed about to fall to her knees.
Side-glancing Hodgins as he shouted angrily, Salvatore wiped off the blood on his fist onto the sleeve of one of his subordinates’ suit. “I loathe women who think things will somehow work out if they cry. Sorry.”
His voice sounded as though he had not an ounce of pangs of conscience.
By the time that the trio had arrived, the people of the neighboring shops were helping put the flames down together with the firefighters.
Seeing that, Violet whispered quietly, “It is almost as if they knew there would be fire, isn’t it?”
Indeed, just as she said, the fire department’s performance was too well-executed. Thanks to it, only the third floor of the CH Postal Company received damage.
“You three! Over here!”
As they turned around upon being called, they found uniform-clad office workers of the CH Postal Company standing outside with burns showing and in a horrible state. A middle-aged man, presumably the oldest of that group, was waving his hand.
“Anthony, everyone, you okay? What’s all this?”
Anthony, the section manager of the reception desk at the CH Postal Company, had genteel facial features. He spoke with a demeanor and manner of talking that matched said features, “Every employee who attended work as of today is fine. However... the President and his secretary Lux have been taken away.”
“No way!” Cattleya let out a cry similar to a scream.
Benedict looked at Violet. She blinked several times. Her long eyelashes swaying widely displayed “shock” amongst her scarce emotions.
Her hand reached out to her brooch and gripped it tightly. “Who... and where... is the culprit...?” she asked in a low voice, still gripping it and not letting go, “Who... and... where?”
Her tone was an absolute zero.
It was so low and cold it went to the point of making whoever listened to it hallucinate that their temperature had dropped for a second. The air about her was bizarre, further enhanced by her usual robotic aspect.
Only one person moved within that freezing atmosphere. “V,” echoed the affectionate nickname by which Benedict alone called her.
Violet turned her head to the side.
“It’s okay.” That was a tone so gentle it was unimaginable coming from Benedict. “I’ll do something about this no matter what.”
Those words were almost like the ones that a true older brother would tell his younger sister.
Violet’s eyelashes once again flapped flutteringly. “I will do it.”
“You can’t. If we’re doing something, we’ll do it all together. Your plans for later gonna be okay?”
“The plans... No problem; Major will understand. Besides, Major would probably order me to rescue President Hodgins and Lux.”
Perhaps unamused by Violet’s attitude in demonstrating unwavering trust, Benedict ruffled her hair roughly. “Ah, that so?”
Her feathery, wavy streaks expanded even more. Unlike earlier, Violet protested with a “please stop” using her normal voice. The instability that had given a glimpse of her former self as a girl soldier was concealed and everyone in the surroundings exhaled relieved sighs.
“Hey, enough; I’m gonna ask about the rest. Anthony’s troubled, ain’t he?”
Having her shin kicked, Violet finally nodded.
Anthony resumed speaking, “The perpetrator is the Salvatore Postal Company. Its president who has the looks of a vampire and his followers dressed in black did this to the office… I tried to notify the military police with a detailed report of the circumstances, but they would not listen. It seems Salvatore has enormous support. I can’t think of anything other than information manipulation.”
Meaning that Hodgins and Lux had been taken by Salvatore and their whereabouts were unknown. It would seem that the employees left behind were first and foremost concentrating themselves on digesting the situation.
“When departing, President Hodgins told us, ‘I leave the rest to you’.”
“I’m so glad! They’re okay for now, huh!” Cattleya patted her own chest and welled up with tears.
“Salvatore’s the place that dispatches those postmen with black uniforms? If I’m not wrong, their head office was in Leiden, yeah? Those guys once went claiming a boundary to delivering territories, so I beat them into a pulp. Could it be… this was my fault?”
“Eh, what? The name sounds like a tongue-twist so I can’t remember just by hearing it one time. Salva… Sal… Salfa…”
“'Salvatore’, Cattleya.”
Imitating Violet, who pronounced it slowly, Cattleya uttered it as well, “'Salvatore’, 'Salvatore’… okay. Gotta be able to say it right. They’re the ones we’re knocking off into hell, after all. Well, when does the blood festival start? Of course, we’ll settle the accounts, right? We’ll go save the president and Lux, right?”
It was a crude statement, yet the people present nodded at Cattleya’s suggestion with an aspect that bore no sense of displacement whatsoever.
“Please pummel them.”
Benedict broke into a villainous smile at Anthony’s request. “Oh. We’ll do that. Old Man will be fine even on his own but we gotta save the midget.” Benedict vigorously hit his own chest with his fist.
Anthony let out a breath of relief at that attitude. “You three, what should we do, then? Should we call over the other employees? The Salvatore Postal Company owns countless branch offices, even abroad. Is this all right?”
Violet said after raising her hand, “We shall seize them simultaneously. In the national offices, there should be a spot by the windows with nothing but the reception desk. The three of us will take it over… However, the priority is to strike the head office first. Let us suppose that the location the two were kidnapped to is where the leader is. Depending on whether the people at work recruited as combatants are available, please notify them that we are seizing our neighbor agency, the Salvatore Postal Company. Hold a transmission for the combatant employees to grasp the entirety of the situation. We will entrust the information convergence… to you, Anthony.”
“Understood, Violet.”
She was the expected of a former warrior. With that, the chain of command was made clear.
Looking at Violet, Benedict asked, “V, ain’t you kinda coming back to being a soldier?”
Violet had on the same composed expression as always, yet the things she said were uncouth.
“I am not. However, counterattack for justifiable motives is permitted even during travels. We are merely going to resolve a quarrel between fellow post offices. The third floor is the one burning, right?”
Violet had a reason for confirming that.
   The trio stood in front of a thick iron door inserted unnaturally in the red brick wall at the back of the building. As Benedict squatted on the spot and dug up the ground, a small box covered in dirt appeared within not even a few minutes’ time. Inside it was a bronze key. Once he reverently brought it into the keyhole, the door greeted the visitors while ringing out a rusty sound. They took a built-in lantern and went down the stairs in the thin darkness. Soon, they arrived to their destination.
The basement illuminated by the faint light stored equipment that should not possibly be gathered in an ordinary company. They were firearms, swords, spears, axes, bows, shields and other fighting tools of all kinds. Even if that were the president’s hobby, such assortment of goods was not something an amateur could attain.
“He saw something like this coming and was getting himself ready, huh. He’s got actual self-awareness that people have a grudge against him,” Benedict said as if in admiration.
“Ah~! President got the tonfa that I said I wanted! The whip too!”
“One fist’s more than enough for you, ain’t it? Don’t go taking any more dangerous weapons other than that. V, what’cha picking? We got this opportunity so I’m gonna take the ones I’ve never used.”
“I...” Looking around the hidden weapons of the CH Postal Company, Violet reached a hand out to something wrapped in a tattered rag set against the farthest wall. “I have decided that this will be my weapon. Benedict, Cattleya.” Violet raised the object that was as tall as her with hand movements that did not allow one to perceive its weight. “Let’s go as discreetly as possible.”
The three stared at each other in silence for a moment.
“Impossible, ain’t it? I’m pissed.”
“Impossible, isn’t it? With this group, that is.”
“So that is really the case.”
As the result of a discussion, they arrived at the conclusion that leaving the enemies half-dead without killing anyone was passable.
   Salvatore Rinaudo stared down at Claudia Hodgins. The person he detested was currently on an imported bear leather carpet of his personal choice, feeble and with wrists tied.
They were in a room encircled with black furnishings. The fact that said room was decorated with the personality of its owner was apparent one way or another. There were portraits of himself and bookshelves with double glass doors that did not seem to be opened often. There were also butterfly specimens and vases filled to the brim with fresh white flowers. Quiet violin music was playing from a gramophone, but it did not relieve the restless atmosphere in the slightest. Having her cheek punched and swelled, Lux Sibyl was seated on a chair, but one of Salvatore’s underlings had a gun thrust at her head.
Lux was constantly concerned about the outdoors. From the balcony, she could see Hodgins’s office at just the same height in the far distance. Black smoke rising from it, the structure of the CH Postal Company’s headquarters and of that building were awfully similar.
There was one more thing to note about the balcony. It was the artillery that seemed unlikely to have been placed there as an antique.
“Shall I tell you the reason why I despise you?” He stretched his arm as though to embrace Lux, caressing her, who had her right cheek swollen, almost as though soothing a pet cat.
As the cheek that had been hit still throbbed, Lux shuddered as if in pain upon the touch.
“Above all, it’s you yourself. You were born to a well-off merchant family, and used to belong to Leidenschaftlich’s army. Even though you were promoted up to the rank of major, you quit the military immediately after the Great War ended and founded a post office next, succeeding splendidly at it. People like that do exist, huh? The kind that can carry out anything just fine no matter what they do. In most cases, they stomp over others’ efforts with the sole of their shoes. And with a nonchalant face, to boot. I may have all this, but I’m one of the people who face hardships, so I detest those like you.”
“If me being superior is a sin, then go complain to God.”
“My second reason for hating you is that you rebel against the principles and rules that our predecessors established. ‘The CH Postal Company delivers to anywhere’? You make me sick.”
Hodgins shot Salvatore’s hand a blazing glare. “High quality at a low price for the costumers... That’s the basics of business, isn’t it?”
“Won’t you just crush those who can’t do the same if you turn this into a standard?”
“You get tripped up because you sit on your hands like that. Y’know, I just happened to think back when I was a soldier that a post office like this would be great and am simply making it into a reality. Letters that can be sent to any sort of battlefield. Postmen who can deliver them. Auto-Memories Dolls who can come to you if you so wish, even if you live at the heart of a sea of trees. What’s so bad about doing something I like with my own money?”
“There are still other bad things... What’s that building? Isn’t it almost like claiming that you’re going to replace the Salvatore Postal Company? The fact that only the weather face stands high up is also irritating.”
Salvatore’s hand moved from her cheek to her silver hair, which emitted a glossy luster.
“Don’t touch my secretary... Yeah, that’s right, I declared war on you. I’ve known you before getting into the industry. You’re all over the country I protected, doing stuff that doesn’t favor it.”
“What, for example?”
A bundle of hair picked by Salvatore’s fingers flowed in-between them, producing a smooth sound.
“The fact that you’ve been selling weapons behind the face of post office... You were selling national weaponry abroad, weren’t you?”
“We’re a postal company that has gentleness and courtesy as our selling points, so we do deliver anything that people request. However, I don’t recall delivering anything to the North.”
“That’s not the issue. Even if you didn’t sell anything to them when battles were going on, it takes just a bit of thinking to figure that this kind of stuff makes rounds, right? It was so unbearably weird... How come the enemy had weapons made in Leidenschaftlich? How come my comrades were getting shot by the enemy with them and dying...? I finally got to investigate that mystery after the war.”
Lux’s had her hair forcefully pulled and her neck bent backwards. Her scarf was taken off, her collarbone peeking from underneath her blouse.
Salvatore took the gun from his underling and pointed it at her chest. “If you know this much, you also know that part of my proceedings went to the military, don’t you? It’s not something that I alone wished for. Some people from your country, which you’d devoted your life to, merely wanted to increase their retirement pay a little. Isn’t that a commonplace story? Can’t you drop the moralist act? It disgusts me.”
“I’m no moralist—hey... how many times do I have to tell you not to touch...”
“Claudia, it’s not like you have a respectable life style either, is it? You wagered your whole fortune on war gambles and earned a large sum, wasn’t that it? Funds gathered from gambling are a hotbed for underground organizations and black market groups. With those funds, they sell off weapons, drugs and abused women and children. Even if you’re on the side that just milked it out, from the moment you placed a bet, you also made rounds and became someone’s assailant.”
“That’s why I said... I’m no moralist! I did all of it because I wanted to. You and I are both pitch-black at heart. But y’know, my secretary over there is a respectable girl. Didn’t you hear when I told you not to touch my secretary?! If you get anxious unless you’re touching something, just hit me or whatever!”
Perhaps because such statements rubbed him the wrong way, Salvatore did as Hodgins proposed, leaving Lux and kicking Hodgins’s face with his shin. Crimson hair swaying, Hodgins collapsed onto the floor.
Regardless, he grinned. “Thanks; should I take my clothes off while we’re at it? It’d get you excited, right?”
Salvatore grabbed Hodgins’s collar with rage. “How filthy. Your company is your human nature itself. I’m a victim. I want you to give me back the clients, routes and everything that you’ve stolen from me. I think being a soldier suited you better than being a businessman. Lying on the ground like this is fitting of you. Why... I’m just going to have you write your name on a document. Promise not to trespass my routes... It’s hard to do stuff with you loitering around. Lots of stuff, you see.” He let go abruptly, Hodgins’s face banging onto the floor.
“President!” Lux’s tear-mixed voice leaked.
Hodgins immediately raised his head and smiled at Lux. He went as far as winking at her.
Salvatore harshly told his underling to call over the official scrivener who would bear witness to their contract. He most likely intended to crush Hodgins’s post office through leaving behind a legal document with unequal contents.
“Tepid; you’re tepid.” Hodgins’s tongue licked off the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Compared to back in the battlefields, you really are dull...” As he coughed curt and subtly, his voice reached Salvatore. “My company isn’t just mine.” Hodgins looked out the window. He checked if something was coming and waited for it.
   “Salvatore Postal Company identified ahead,” Violet whispered.
Benedict was driving his motorcycle, Cattleya behind him. Holding onto Cattleya’s shoulders, Violet was standing on the edge of the passenger seat. Running through the cityscape in the early afternoon, the motorcycle carried not only three people but also uncovered armament.
“Hey~, there’s a huge tacky cannon in the balcony~.”
“All~ right, I was thinking about forcing our way through the front gate but change of plans. V, go off on that balcony,” Benedict said with a lightheartedness that one would invite another to go shopping with.
“Understood. Cattleya, please give me support.” Violet took into her hands a thick, long cylindrical object that had been placed on the motorcycle’s luggage carrier. It was something that could be called both a rifle and a rocket launcher. She rested it on her shoulder atop the running vehicle and determined her target.
Once Cattleya clung to her legs as to secure her body, Violet shot without mercy. Explosion sounds echoed throughout the city of Leiden for the second time that day.
“Impact confirmed.”
Pigeons fled into the sky, the townspeople darting their eyes about in search for the source of the noise. Meanwhile, the motorcycle that the trio was riding on gradually drew closer to the Salvatore head office.
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“Sca~ry! But ama~zing! I also wanna shoot tha~t!” Cattleya shouted in joy upon seeing the balcony destructed.
“Won’t let ya no matter what.”
“You cannot no matter what.”
Benedict and Violet shook their heads in sync. Both comprehended that it would be dangerous to let such a naïve woman hold onto firearm.
“What’s with that~?! I also wanna go wild big time~! Isn’t it okay?!”
“Then, let Cattleya be the first to charge in. Please be contented with that.”
“What’re you deciding on your own? The first at anything’s gotta be me.”
“You follow me from behind. ‘Cause the one who’ll save our captive princess of a president is going to be me. A~hn, wait for me, President! Where are you!?”
“You... As if such a huge dude could be a princess. What kinda princess is that?”
“If you were as tall as the President, you wouldn’t have to wear those heeled shoes, huh.”
“You’re wrong! That’s not why I wear them! It’s because they’re cool! You... Imma make you cry later! I’m dropping by your place today, so get ready for it!”
“Yo... Yo-Yo... You idiot! What’re you saying in front of Violet?!”
Silently listening to the exchange between the two, Violet slowly took from the luggage carrier the handle of the weapon jutting out of the tattered cloth. “Then, I shall take this opportunity and go.”
They had no idea what opportunity she was taking, yet Violet nimbly jumped midair after saying nothing but that. As she landed on the ground, the motorcycle also stopped right in front of the head office with good timing upon scoring an ostentatious drift.
“Here I go, Major.”
The one taken into Violet’s blue eyes was the Salvatore Postal Company – a building that looked exactly like the CH Postal Company. Although it was a weekday, a “closed” sign hung on the door and five postmen clad in black frock coats stood by the entrance smoking cigarettes.
The stunning woman, the man mounted on a motorcycle and the beauty behind him appeared before their eyes. Ashes fell down in lieu of their surprise at the mystery trio.
“Wh-Who’re you?!”
While the men froze on the spot at her exposed unpainted face and moonlight-colored hair, Violet swiftly tore off the tattered cloth wrapped around the weapon in her hands. A battle-axe of a size unfit for swinging around in a city road revealed itself.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am an Auto-Memories Doll from the CH Postal Company; my name is Violet Evergarden.”
The name of the battle-axe wielded by that woman as ominously beautiful as a witch was Witchcraft. It had a silver blade, and the red rain that it dyed itself in from the number of people it had killed was a manifestation of its ill-omened existence.
“Apologies for you are in the middle of work, but could you allow us upstairs? Ever since our company’s president and secretary disappeared into your agency, we have not known of their whereabouts.”
As she held onto it, illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, her frame gave off quite a sense of misplacement.
“If you will not listen to our request, we shall exercise brute force based on the guiding precepts of our company.”
But as she wielded it, her figure looked appropriate. Rather, it was the contrary.
Raising the gigantic battle-axe blithely, Violet pointed the blade at the men. Instead of opening their mouths, the men took pistols out of their coats and pants and aimed them at Violet.
“The guys from the CH Postal Company are here! Don’t let them pass no matter what!”
“Violet!” Cattleya’s scream reverberated through the city roads.
However, the beautiful Auto-Memories Doll moved at the same time as the opponents readied themselves, dealing a preemptive strike in the blink of an eye. “Negotiations broken.”
A single blow from the battle-axe brushed away the postmen. It was an attack that did not cut them and merely struck their vitals using blunt weapon essentials, yet it caused three of the men to hit their heads against the outer wall of their company and collapse.
The remaining two men, who had dodged the appearance and disappearance of the axe, frantically aimed at Violet and pulled the triggers. Without any change in her facial expression, Violet twisted the battle-axe around and repelled the bullets with its blade. Switching hands, she pointed the tip of the handle at the opponents. It produced a ringing noise.
“Please forgive my rudeness.”
The flower bud ornament decorating the tip of the handle flew out together with a long chain. It knocked the two men’s pistols off their hands. She did not give the men, who held their hands down due to the collision, any opening to straighten their postures. This time, Violet rammed the battle-axe’s arm against the surface of the building’s wall and anchored it. While extending the chain and spinning midair, she dealt a flying kick to the face of one of them, made his face into her stepping stone and roundhouse-kicked the man next to him. There was no hesitation or mercy in her series of actions.
“Bu-But I was supposed to be the first one!”
“That was me!”
Indignant, Cattleya took a sack fastened to the luggage carrier, which contained her weapons. After thorough indecision between the tonfa, whip and other armory, the one she had chosen were iron knuckles.
Before anyone noticed, Benedict’s hands were gripping two pistols. He disabled the safety catch with practiced hand movements. “V! Don’t get too serious! If you’re angry, I can get angry for you!”
As if the people inside the Salvatore Postal Company had foreseen that someone would come raid it, postmen peeked out from the windows of the floors above with rifles in position. Bullets from Benedict’s pistols pierced their arms as he spoke, creating a rain of blood splashes.
“If this is the emotion called wrath, I want to rid myself of it quickly. Cattleya.” Violet pointed with her finger at the rocket launcher that had no more remaining ammo to Cattleya, who had put on her iron knuckles.
Agilely grabbing its handle with one hand, Cattleya threw it with heightened rotation speed after drawing it back once with much vigor. “One, two, the~re!”
Together with her adorable shout, the rocket launcher struck the postmen who had turned up in the upstairs floor, breaking through the window glass. Its destructive power was the same as a bullet shell.
The one who had flung it jumped up and down on the spot as if delighted. “Kyah~! I hit them~!”
It was not a deed that an average person, let alone a young woman, could normally manage. She was the possessor of tremendously strong arms.
“As expected of the Stupid Woman – or more like the Stupidly Strong Woman.”
“Shut up, Platform Shoes Man.”
“Ah, you on?”
“What, are you?”
The ringing of the chain on Violet’s battle-axe Witchcraft drowned out the duo’s little quarrel. One of the men screamed and threw himself out the window, falling onto a flowerbed in front of the company.
“Benedict, Cattleya. By the looks of it, the President and Lux are unmistakably inside this building. President Hodgins told me that he imitated Salvatore’s agency when our company’s office was under construction. If that is the case, then the highest position is probably the uppermost floor – the third floor. I am counting on you to follow the procedures.”
The two nodded in reply to Violet’s words.
“Let’s kick their asses at once and go celebrate.”
“We’re bothering the neighbors, after all.”
Before anyone realized, the city had gone quiet.
The Salvatore Postal Company was located in a completely ordinary shopping street in the city of Leiden. However, the passersby had fled within a few minutes, and the shopkeepers of the nearby buildings, as well as the buildings next to those, had closed their shops’ windows – the so-called display windows – and pulled down the iron shutters.
The fast action stemmed from their understanding that the city had become involved in the maelstrom of a fight. It was a particularity of citizens from a country that had long been shutting off invaders ever since its foundation. The people were silently waiting for the conflict to end.
“Well, then, let’s go in.” Violet’s figure as she gave the command with a clear voice was different from usual.
   Inside the chairman’s room at the top floor of the Salvatore Postal Company, the scenery visible from the balcony – an autumn sky where cirrocumulus clouds drifted high up and Leiden’s cityscape – had looked like it was inserted in a picture frame. Yet such beauty was something of a few seconds before, and now the artillery enshrined in it had received great damage from a sudden explosion attack, smoke rising from it.
Once ornamented with delicate sculptures, the rails were crumbling, and the balcony was in a state where one could fall straight to the ground if they put a foot on it. If the artillery were loaded with ammo, it was most likely not the only thing that would have been destroyed.
In that situation of settled chaos, Salvatore Rinaudo’s pale face went even paler and his mouth fell open as he spaced out, while Claudia Hodgins bit the inside of his cheeks to kill off his own laughter and trembled in opposition.
“What have they done?”
“Ahah—AHAHAHAHAH! Aah, I can’t anymore! Can’t hold back! This is the best!” Hodgins convulsed with laughter upon looking at Salvatore’s face. “What you so surprised about, Salvatore? Isn’t that what you did to us? Well, but... you wouldn’t think we’d do the exact same thing as you, huh! There’s no helping it! Ahahahah!”
Even Lux, who had all along been shaking with a darkened face, lit up with a sparkle of hope and laughed a little.
“Is this the work of you people from the CH Postal Company?”
“Who else is there? Our corporate philosophy is ‘an eye for an eye’.” Hodgins was in such a good mood that he seemed like he could break into song right then.
A few of Salvatore’s underlings went down to the floors below. Gunshots and screams soon echoed again. The fact that the screams had come from Salvatore’s subordinates increased his anxiety and impatience.
“They’re doing this even though you might be injured... What kind of training do you use on them?”
“Basically a principle of liberalism. Most of the personnel I gathered back when I was building my company happen to be guys with nowhere to go that I coaxed and took in... Don’t know if my preferences are biased, but it turned out that lots of them were absurdly strong fellows. The ones who’re here right now are definitely two of the Auto-Memories Dolls that were off-duty and... probably a postman that was scheduled to return to town today. They’re elite of the finest kind even among us. Salvatore, since it’s you, weren’t you supposed to investigate me through and through?”
“Your company’s employees are former soldiers and mercenaries, right? If that’s the case, so are our postmen...”
“They aren’t just former soldiers and mercenaries. Benedict is an ex-mercenary who had the nickname of ‘Battle-Hungry Freak’ in another continent. Cattleya was a boxer. She has arms so strong that no one can beat her by using force. And that beautiful girl whose name you can even say everyone knows in the Auto-Memories Doll business... my adorable Little Violet, used to be Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier. It’s in the past, though.” Hodgins smiled at Lux. “By the way, my secretary is a former demigoddess.”
“‘Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier’?”
“Didn’t your patrons tell you anything? Well, she was treated as a secret in a way, so it isn’t impossible for civilians not to know about her. The military went as far as creating a troop just for her and made her work for them, but they never gave her recognition or ranks. She didn’t have a surname back then and it seems people just called her ‘Violet’. My friend found and raised her... She was the leading figure of the Great War in the shadows.”
Salvatore reminisced to the photos of Hodgins’s employees whom he had made his underlings investigate. One that had been engraved in his mind remarkably vividly was a beautiful woman. She was a girl of exquisite, suave facial features. Even if one declared her to have been the strongest female soldier, nobody could believe it right away.
“How did you make a woman like that yours?!”
“She’s not mine.” Hodgins smirked defiantly. “And she doesn’t belong to the military anymore either. From the very start, she... Let’s stop here; telling this story to you is a waste.”
The battle’s tune gradually grew closer to the top floor. By the looks of it, the fuss was escalating to a direction where even angry yelling was ensuing. It seemed the owner of the voice was a young woman. Even amidst gunshots, the conversation between those two people did not cut short.
Hodgins’s smirk deepened, Salvatore’s face becoming grim.
“You guys, give polite greetings when coming in.”
Salvatore’s underlings readied their guns all at once. The tension reached its peak, everyone inside the room paying attention to the door. However, it was time.
“Lux, please cover your eyes,” a beautiful voice that did not match such a place, which had converted into a battlefield, could be heard from behind the staff members.
A black lump jumped from the balcony. It looked like a beast at first. A stunning and terrifying beast that moved its limbs gracefully and trampled over its enemies.
No matter how much the “hunters” who had taken notice of the beast’s existence made bullets rain on it, its feet did not halt by a single inch as it bared its fangs. It steadfastly ascertained the battlefield even as it danced in the air, wielding its weapon with astonishing precision, bringing everyone to the ground.
“A-Aaaah!!”
The arm released from the battle-axe pierced and gouged the shoulder of the man who had been thrusting a gun at Lux. The beast swung the battle-axe and stationed Hodgins and Lux to behind itself.
Salvatore took a few steps back, and exactly two factions stood in position separated at his right and left sides.
“Major Hodgins, we apologize for the wait.”
“I’m always telling you that it’s ‘President’, aren’t I, Little Violet?”
The beast – rather, the woman – shot a cold glance at the one that she perceived as the enemy.
“You—What are you?” Salvatore vented his confusion at the sudden intruder who held onto the completely red battle-axe.
She had white and smooth skin like that of porcelain dolls. Her blue eyes were as glass balls. Her hair of gold seemed to waft with a sweet fragrance. The girl was beautiful to a rare extent, but that was not the only thing that made one’s eyes widen at her.
A living legend that Salvatore did not know was standing there.
“Violet.”
The loveliness he had seen in the picture was concealed by a shadow, a turbulent atmosphere similar to madness surrounding her instead. An air of lethargic strategizing as to which of them would move first flowed by, but the stagnancy soon shattered.
“PRESIDENT———! LUX——!”
“OLD MAN!”
Callings could be heard in unison from outside the room. The massive door was then broken through as if it were as thin a paper sheet. The one who stepped onto the door as it collapsed with a tremor and entered the room while holding by the collar an enemy that she had defeated with her silver iron knuckles was Cattleya.
“Aa~hn! You two~! Found yoou!” She tossed the prey that she had nearly killed toward Salvatore and his group. Being able to fling a human being as if they were an object meant her arms were simply that great as blunt weapons.
Following her, a gun barrel appeared first, and after bullet sounds ensued, Benedict revealed himself. It was a shot meant for delivering the finishing blow to Cattleya’s offensive.
Shooting the legs of all the men in black except Salvatore, Benedict clicked his tongue at the gruesome scene inside the room. “What’s this? Hasn’t V eaten out most of them?” Together with a sigh, he threw away the gun he had been holding, taking out another one. “Old Man~, we’ve left only this important-looking old dude~.”
“Lux! Violet is protecting you, right? President! You’re tied up!” Cattleya ran towards Hodgins, who lay on the floor. Without cutting them with a knife, she ripped off the ropes that had been restricting him using the iron knuckles and embraced him boldly.
Hodgins patted her back with taps and hugged her lightly. “Sorry, Cattleya. Didn’t my adorable young lady get hurt?”
“I didn’t!”
“Atta girl.” Hodgins left a kiss on Cattleya’s forehead with a pop.
Cattleya’s cheeks flushed red and she turned her back to him looking embarrassed, stamping her feet onto her happiness on the spot.
Benedict tore Cattleya away from Hodgins and stood between them. Contrary to being angry, he aggressively hit Hodgins from face to torso, confirming that the latter was alive.
“Ouch, ouch, what’s this? A new way of expressing love?”
“You’re fine, huh, Captive Princess?”
“You were worried about me, Darling?” Hodgins merely replied with frivolous talk to Benedict’s cynicism, looking delighted.
Briefly biting his lip, Benedict faced the ground. Hodgins had a feeling that the eyes Benedict had directed at him before casting them downward were moist, and was inwardly surprised.
——Huh, could it be he really was worried?
“Hey, Darling. Benedict.”
His sandy-blond hair rubbed into a mess, Benedict finally resisted energetically as if to say, “Quit it”. Nothing that resembled tears could be seen in his eyes anymore.
“Who’s that ‘Darling’, Old Man...?!”
“Could it be you were pretty worried about me?”
He was fully convinced that Benedict would deny it.
“I was. Don’t make me.” Yet the latter directed his sky-blue eyes straight at him and said, “I was hella worried. Don’t ever make me worry again no matter what!”
As it was much too blunt, after Hodgins was taken aback, his face slowly turned red. He had anticipated they would come save him, but right now was his first time learning he was cherished to that extent.
“Ah... that so? S-Sorry, okay?”
“Damn... Don’t go getting kidnapped when you’ve got that huge body! Is Captive Princess #2 all good?”
“Fairly. Little Lux needs first-aid...!”
Violet undid Lux’s binding. The latter’s body, which had been trembling in fear, and the sound of her heartbeats, which had grown noisy, were regaining their calm.
“Thank you, Violet.” Enduring the pain in her cheek, Lux smiled at the friend who had come for her rescue. “I thought you were some noble prince.”
Violet furrowed her eyebrows as if troubled. She then resentfully held Lux’s hands and helped her up. “My apologies for not being able to protect you. But I will not let you go through terrifying times anymore.” Just like a knight, she made Lux retreat to behind her.
Albeit gripping his gun, Salvatore remained unable to fire a single shot at the mere three people who had taken control of his company. As he shifted his gaze to the side, he could see his underlings collapsed and moaning in the open corridor. “There was supposed to be... fifty of them,” once he opened his mouth, his voice shook.
“Ah? Your minions? Even if the numbers are big, it’s no use if the quality sucks. Actually, were there that many of them? I was counting, but... Stupid Woman, how many did you take down?”
“Stupid Benedict! Erm... ten. I probably beat up about ten people.”
“I got twenty. The rest was V, huh?”
“I simply came here by climbing the outer walls, so other than the beginning and now...”
“Didn’t anyone run away? The math ain’t adding up.”
They were chatting carefreely, yet the contents of the conversation were the number of people they had defeated. In addition, there was an overwhelming difference in combat power, for they were unharmed and not even their clothes had scratches. That was also a difference in corporation power.
Biting his lip as if in frustration, Salvatore barked at Hodgins, “They came late, and that’s why you’ve lost! I already had you write the contract! The official scrivener went to submit the contract we exchanged to the government office so that it’d serve as a demonstration of formal legitimacy. It’s probably already been accepted... Take your leave as you please. But I’m billing you for the internal damage caused by your subordinates and the injuries they inflicted on mine!”
Salvatore had intended to wreak both psychological and bodily pain on Hodgins for a while, instilling terror on him and making him lose the will to fight back, but now he had given up on it. What he desired most – the unequal contract – was in a state of legal effectiveness. As long as he had it, regardless of what anyone could say, the fact that Salvatore had the advantage would not change.
“Salvatore Rinaudo. What’re you on about?” However, Hodgins had a facial expression that denounced he was helplessly puzzled.
“As I said, your company can no longer enter our routes...”
“So?”
“No matter how much brute force we used, that’s nothing in the face of a validated official document!”
“Again... so what? The papers were indeed filed. Seems like they also were submitted before help came. What of it?” Claudia Hodgins, president of the CH Postal Company and former major from Leidenschaftlich’s army, generally had an easygoing personality, as well as a cheerful and frivolous attitude. However, he was now glaring at Salvatore without breaking into a smile, letting a glint shine sharply in his eyes. “Isn’t it a matter that’ll be solved if we crush down your company?” He rolled up his shirt’s sleeves and took off a wristwatch that one could tell was a high-grade product. Next, he squeezed the strap with his fingers so that the watch’s case would be on his knuckles.
Anybody who was used to fighting knew. If one was battling without a weapon, the object called wristwatch was an overly useful thing.
“Salvatore, if only you hadn’t hit Lux, I wouldn’t be this angry.”
Salvatore fired at Hodgins when the latter swung up his hand, yet it did not even graze him. Oddly enough, the bullet that had failed to kill a person shot through the middle of the forehead of Salvatore’s portrait sitting inside the room.
“S-Sto...” The word that Salvatore uttered were the end of it.
The fist swung by a 194cm-tall man who weighted 85kg struck into Salvatore’s face with a wind-cutting sound. As his nose was broken without mercy, Salvatore shed a large amount of blood. A few of his teeth tumbled onto the high-quality carpet as well. He had convulsions for a moment, but eventually became completely motionless.
“Did you kill him?”
At Benedict’s question, Hodgins put his ear against Salvatore’s chest, shaking his head after simply checking the other’s heartbeat. “He’s alive. Let’s leave him be.” By the instant he turned around, Hodgins had gone back to his usual self. “Everyone, you did well. I’m so happy; my employees sure are the best. And I’m also the best for having chosen you!” Hodgins sang praises gesturing exaggeratedly, embracing the employees who had come for his aid all at once. He then came closer to Lux’s side, planting a kiss on the cheek that had not been punched. “I’ve made you go through a lot, huh. I’m really sorry, Little Lux.”
“No, I’m the president’s secretary, after all.”
Seeing as she did not appear too bashful, that sort of kiss was likely not a rare action. As the thread of tension broke, Lux crumbled and shed large tears. Hodgins frantically apologized again.
“That’s not it... I’m frustrated... It’d be great if I were like everyone else, and also had strength to protect the president. If I hadn’t been taken hostage, things wouldn’t have turned out like...”
Cattleya gently caressed Lux’s arching back as she was unable to stop crying. “What’re you saying? Lux, you have it good exactly because you’re a normal fragile girl. Ah, but it’s not like I’m not normal either. I’m strong and pretty, but I’m a super normal girl...”
“Cattleya, what you say is inconsistent.” Violet handed Lux a silk handkerchief.
Perhaps due to their heights being about the same, despite their faces not resembling one another and their body types being different, the figure of the tree as they nestled close to each other strangely made them look like sisters.
“Seeing girls huddling together is kinda nice, right, Benedict?”
“Old Man, just hurry and do something about this place.”
“Should we huddle too? Shall we?”
“Don’t play around and give the instructions!”
As Benedict dealt him a strong lateral kick to the rear, Hodgins ceased joking. “Eeh~, then, all dismissed...! That’s what I’d like to do but I have a request. Anyone who doesn’t have any plans for later, please help me destroy Salvatore’s company!”
“He~y, Old Man.”
“What is it, Mr. Benedict?”
“You haven’t checked things out so you don’t know what’s been made of it, but we left the international offices to the rest of the fighter staff. The guys who stayed at the main office contacted them. Since it’s those fellows... they’ll take them out without worries.”
“Amazing! But we don’t have fighter staff! It’s not like I hired you with that intention! Well, since there have to be people who can go into battlefields, I didn’t not have that intention, but...”
“From the very start, that was our purpose, President Hodgins. So that there will not be such happenings after this, we believed that laying waste to everything and thoroughly annihilating them was a good plan.”
“Scary, scary. Your expression is getting scary too, Little Violet. Smile! It’s ruining your cute face!”
“President~! I want you to buy me a new choker after we’re done. Look~! The pearls on it got torn off... It was my favorite too.”
“Okay, Cattleya. Be it chokers, clothes or anything, this uncle will buy it for you!”
“Hum... President. What should I do?” the non-fighting staff member Lux tightly clutched her skirt, looking nervous.
“Little Lux, let’s go back to the head office. I’ll have you be treated there too. It’s all right; everyone in the head office contacted the other employees, so there should be people gathering there. It’s safer than you coming with us. Benedict, take Little Lux to the head office, and then regroup.”
“Roger; leave some for me to mess with too.”
“We aren’t sharing cake slices... Now, Little Violet and Cattleya are going with me to crush the branch offices just like this. Let’s decide on the rules for one. No hitting girls. Hitting bastards is fine.”
“Understood.”
“‘Ka~y.”
The members of the CH Postal Company continued their strategy meeting without paying mind to the people that they had defeated lying on the floor. When they were done at last, they exited the building while making so that those of Salvatore’s postmen who had stood up once again would be beyond recovery.
Lighting a cigarette, Hodgins started walking with it in his mouth, and everyone followed him as well.
On that day, within Leidenschaftlich, gunshots echoed throughout several areas of the capital Leiden, yet no one attempted to keep them under control. Additionally, the military police did not make a move regardless of how many reports it received.
   The nocturnal darkness deepened late into the night.
The lights were brightly lit in a bar at the corner of a business district. “Fully booked for the day,” said the clumsy letters on a paper pinned to the menu board in front of the shop. The figure of a seductive female dancer was drawn on said board. By the looks of it, that was a place where people enjoyed shows along with their meals.
The voices of people laughing pleasantly and lively music could be heard leaking from inside the bar. It seemed to be the feast of some company. The men and women were at a one-one ratio. Their ages varied and all of them differed in skin, hair and eye colors.
Even amongst them, there was an attention-catching few.
A young man was displaying splendid steps on a table with heeled boots that looked like womenswear. The dancers swayed their bodies together with him and danced purely as they pleased.
On another table, a beautiful woman was smiling while arm-wrestling with a man of fiendish facial features and plentiful muscles. Seeing as she twisted his arm in a matter of seconds, it could be that he let her win on purpose. However, the man who had lost rubbed his seemingly hurt arm with a strangely believable face.
A silver-haired young girl with a big gauze on her cheek was playing a card game with a blonde person of terribly tattered appearance. It was most likely poker. She looked troubled for not being able to read the other’s expression. While everyone else was emptying bottles of alcohol, only the two of them were making cups of tea into their nighttime company. Each was fixated with their own victory, playing in earnest.
“Ah~! I won~! I won enough to buy a kinda nice pair of shoes! Ah, Lux, aren’t those winning cards?”
“Women who can dance sure are great. V, you suck at playing this, don’t you?”
Benedict, who had had enough of dancing, and Cattleya, who had grown tired of arm wresting, came to sit at the peaceful table as if to intrude on it.
Lux put the cards that she had been hiding up to her lips on the table. “Want to quit poker, Violet?”
“That is right. The cards in our hands have been busted by a third party, after all.”
They did not have the will to get angry. If anything, Lux was so happy for being able to return to that trifling daily life with her companions that she wound up laughing. Perhaps due to the spot where she had been hit aching when she laughed, she arched her back with an “ow, ow, ow”.
“Are you okay? Is it not better for you to rest already...?”
“Yu~p, but I think it’s safer to be with everyone for the day... President Hodgins is here too so I can’t go home.”
Cattleya quickly reacted and looked at Lux’s direction with momentum. “What do you mean?”
“We’ve decided that I’ll be with the President today. See, it’s because the President’s home was in the company’s top floor. We have nowhere to sleep tonight, right? I also had that experience with being kidnapped... He was worried and got me a room at a hotel in the city. It seems President Hodgins will also be staying in it for a while. Until this mess is over, I’ll also be working from there. We’re going together today, so I have to wait for him.”
While Violet replied agreeably with a, “That is reassuring”, Cattleya became beet-red. One could tell from her face what she was imagining. She grabbed Lux’s arm and shook her violently. “You! Do you get what you’re saying?”
“E-Eeh? Our rooms are separated, y’know?”
“Cattleya, Lux is injured.”
“Not a chance. Dunno how many years it’ll last, but not even he is that shameless.”
“Hey! Don’t meddle into a girls’ talk!”
“Ah, you’ve said it. Then don’t barge into when I’m talking with the Old Man no matter what.”
Since another fight had decidedly began, as an accustomed form of coping, Violet and Lux left the two and started their conversation afresh.
“Speaking of which... Violet, are you okay? You’re dressed pretty cutely today... Could it be you were going to meet up with that person... with Mr. Major?”
The moment she received such question was exactly when Violet’s gaze had fixed on the bar’s entrance. “I am fine.”
Someone was heading her way.
Perhaps due to having come in a hurry, said person was out of breath. His sweat-dampened forehead was a proof of the efforts he had been spending until arriving there. He was caught by Hodgins and came to a halt, but even so, he aimed at and went toward her as fast as possible.
That person had soon spotted Violet from the bar’s entrance, and Violet had frozen in place the instant he had arrived as well. It was almost as if there were gravity between them that drew one to the other.
Violet stood up naturally and rushed to him.
——Ah, Violet.
Lux could tell.
——I see, so that’s how it is.
Anyone who was close by would be able to tell.
——The two of you are already like that.
After all, it was as though the air about her had changed completely the moment he had appeared.
“Colonel.”
The one standing there was Colonel Gilbert Bougainvillea from Leidenschaftlich’s army. Perhaps because he was on an off day, he wore only a jacket of fine tailoring and a shirt. Inquisitive stares from the people making a ruckus in the bar fell upon him all at once.
“Violet.”
After all, he was a man rumored within the company for moving the army in order to protect Violet. His existence was made known during the hijacking incident of the Intercontinental train, after which a year had passed not too long before. Of course, that was a story only told internally and Hodgins was publicly regarded as the main leader of such strategy.
The members of the postal company who had gathered up to save her had seen in person the man who came running while carrying her princess style. Back then, they had also witnessed Benedict being entrusted with Violet, his mouth open as if he had grown senile.
“Colonel, my apologies... I ended up breaking our arrangement.”
Her cottony hair was ruined. The outfit chosen for her and that her body was clad in had become like ragged cloths. Everything she had prepared for him had been reduced to misery today.
Nevertheless, seeing her dressed-up caused Gilbert’s heart to beat louder.
“You...”
“You look beautiful” was what he had started to say, but upon noticing a stare of pressuring quality to a fierce extent from the side, he trailed off.
Benedict seemed extremely unamused. He clicked his tongue as their eyes met.
“Anything the matter...?”
“Not really. There any law that says I can’t look at the bastard who snoops into V’s general area every once in a blue moon ever since that incident like he’s a rare sight?”
“You helped me out holding onto Violet back then. I’m grateful... And, I don’t know about any such law, but if it’s about putting up a watchdog act, I’m the one on top.”
Something like an electric shockwave ran between the two of them. Benedict remained not toning down his distrust regarding Gilbert until now, peeved by that man who seemed like he could become a love rival for Benedict’s significant other had he been in the same workplace as them.
“This was the curtain rise of their muddled battle!” just as the two had opened their mouths again, Hodgins cut in with a foolish commentary.
Silence. The two simultaneously glared at Hodgins as if looking at something deplorable.
Hodgins himself broke Gilbert and Benedict apart, coming in between them, putting his arms around each and laughing stridently, “Don’t fight for me! Man~, I wanted to try saying this once.”
“Shut up, Old Man!”
“Stay away, Hodgins. You’re reeking of booze.”
It was a conversation with a magnificent explosive power. By the looks of it, Gilbert and Benedict did not seem like they would get along, but their attitude towards Hodgins was similar.
“Old Man, tomorrow will be terrible for you if you drink too much. You’re at that age, aren’t you?”
“Darling... you’re saying that because you’re worried about me, right?”
“Hey, stop. Stop. I’m not a woman.”
As Benedict stepped away from Hodgins, who was attempting to give him a kiss, Gilbert and Violet were at last able to lock eyes with each other again. Violet had a face that denounced she had gone through a hellish time.
“Any injuries?”
“Minor ones. The same level as scratching a knee.”
“That’s good...” He was truly saying so from the bottom of his heart. Seeing Cattleya and Lux anxiously observing the two of them, Gilbert spoke further, “You too, any injuries? Aah... you need a medic.”
“No, no, I’m okay.”
Lux had already received treatment, yet it seemed like her wound might open the next day.
Perhaps always carrying it in his person, Gilbert took a fountain pen and small notebook from his jacket’s inner pocket, handing her a paper sheet that contained a certain address within Leiden. “This is the clinic where my home doctor is. You don’t need to pay if you give my name, so go there another day. You’ll probably need painkillers for a while. Even in the hotel you’re staying at, please give my name to the hotelman if you need anything. We’re on friendly terms, so he’ll treat you well.”
Lux acted uncertain when accepting the paper. “Ah. Thank you very much. You’re very generous... Could it be... that the hotel reservation... Mr. Bougainvillea, erm... Colonel Bougainvillea, was made by you?”
After glancing at Hodgins, who was entangling himself with Benedict, Gilbert nodded. “That thing asked me for it. I can’t say this aloud but I’ve also disposed of... the documents submitted to the government office in the name of your company. When I use my influence in places outside of my jurisdiction... I end up losing one card that I could otherwise use in the event of an emergency, but...” Perhaps as if remembering something, he furrowed his brows a little and chuckled. “Hodgins took care of Violet. I also won’t spare any efforts for you all in case something happens. If there’s any worrisome matter, it can even be through Violet, but do tell me.”
“Y-Yes.”
Cattleya and Lux mutely let their cheeks dye pink. Was there any girl whose heart would not throb at Gilbert as he displayed adult-man-like reliance in a different way from Hodgins?
“Colonel, you’re so cool.”
“Colonel, you are wonderful.”
No, there was not.
For whatever reason, the two had their fingers interlaced in front of their chests and were striking the same pose.
Gilbert replied levelly, “You aren’t my subordinates so you don’t need to refer to me by my rank.”
Violet pulled the hem of Gilbert’s jacket ever so lightly. “Colonel, hum... would you like to sit down? You must be tired.”
“Aah, no. I’m sorry but I’m taking my leave. You too, Violet. The two are at the Bougainvillea house and we’re making them worry. I already contacted them to say I’d bring you back, so come along. It stopped by a place a little far away, but I have a carriage ready, so let’s walk there. Miss Lux. You... were together with Hodgins for today, right? Miss Cattleya, what about you? We can send you home if necessary.”
“Y-You know my name?! Mine?!”
“Of course; I heard it from Violet. So, what will you do?”
Perhaps due to extreme happiness at that, Cattleya slapped Violet’s back with quite strong vigor countless times, making merry. “I’m fine! I’ll be here with everyone until morning today!”
“It’s probably better if you’re in big numbers. Well, my apologies since we’re in the middle of a pleasant talk, but I’m taking her along. Thank you... for always being so close to Violet. Let’s meet again somewhere else. Please let me at least treat you to a meal.” Gilbert all too naturally took off his jacket and placed it over Violet’s shoulders. He began escorting her away just like that.
“Ah! Bastard! Hold on! V is my little sister part!”
“Everyone, good night. Benedict too.”
“Wait! V~! Hey—Old Man!”
Binding Benedict’s arms behind his back, Hodgins sent Violet a wink. It was true that he was drunk, but his tactic was probably to keep Benedict away from Gilbert. He might have been paying for the sin of making the two of them miss out on the time they had to spend with each other because of his kidnapping.
Hodgins and Gilbert merely exchanged short goodbyes such as, “I’ll call” and, “See you”.
“Benedict’s had an overwhelming defeat, huh.”
“Old Man!”
“Man, he’s rivaling you... but he’s also not.”
The two young women left behind spoke while still staring at the bar’s entrance.
“To be honest, the President told me a lot about Violet’s past after that incident, and I didn’t not wonder if someone like him was okay for her... but, when you meet him, y’know...”
“Yup, its different when you get to meet him, right?”
“It’s because he really did cherish her that he made many mistakes, did his best to take back a lot of things, and now they’re like this, huh,” Lux whispered, deep in thought.
   Treading through an autumn night in which the nocturnal winds were gelid robbed the two a little of the body heat provided by the warm interior of the bar. Violet, who Gilbert had put his jacket over, looked at him with only his shirt on as if to question him.
He soon noticed her gaze and their eyes met. He then smiled at her. “Aren’t you cold?”
Just from him simply throwing those words at her, as Violet was still unused to it, her heart raced. “No; Major, what about you?”
The times that the two of them met up were still at a point where they could be counted with one hand, and during such instances, the restraint brought about by his long absence would manifest itself in the form of agitation. From the perspective of others, that could almost not be perceived. After all, her facial expressions were generally emotionless.
“I’m fine. I’ve run around and sweated a lot today, so I’m still warm.”
“My apologies, Colonel.”
“It’s nothing to apologize for. I did that because I wanted to. Violet. It was also for Hodgins’s sake.”
“All right, Colonel.”
“Let’s walk a little slower. Once we get on the carriage, the way home will last a blink of eye.”
“Is that bad...?”
The one who had made the request was Gilbert, and the words Violet was about to say wound up dying out before they could take form. That was because he sweetly added, “I don’t have enough time with you”.
“All right, Major.”
Her eyes spoke more eloquently than her expressionless self. Violet’s blue orbs were glued to Gilbert’s emerald ones.
“I want to chat a little too. Is everything okay with that young man called Benedict?”
“By that, you mean...?”
“He seems to favor you.”
“He has another woman that he fancies. It seems they are in a relationship, and they themselves are hiding it but everyone around them knows.”
“That so?”
“Yes, he is... in an older brother-like... position regarding... my person, he told me.”
“Told you? That man?”
Their eye and hair colors were certainly similar, and the man could be said to be an androgynous beauty, but his speech and conduct were much too different from Violet’s.
“He himself was saying so.”
“Aah, he indeed called you his ‘little sister part’... Should I interpret that as him showing affection for you...? But it doesn’t look like we will get along very well.”
“Is that so?”
“It will probably be difficult.”
As Violet had heard the story of Hodgins and Gilbert’s past, she estimated that such assumption would be disproved. Gilbert and Hodgins were also a duo that one would not think got along well.
“It seems he’ll get in the way when I’m with you.”
Since Gilbert made a face as if he had swallowed a bitter-tasting bug, Violet did not voice her opinion in the end. “Major.”
“What is it?” As Violet called him, the middle of his brows immediately softened.
“If you had managed to meet with me as planned today, where did you intend to go?”
“Aah, I had actually made an arrangement for us to go horse-riding.”
“Horses.”
“You can ride army horses, and I think long rides aren’t bad if it’s on fine autumn weather days... Did you not like it?”
“Colonel, there is nothing that I dislike if I am in your company.”
“That answer makes me happy, but I do believe I want to learn about your tastes little by little. Kukuh.”
As Gilbert suddenly laughed aloud, Violet tilted her neck. “Is something the matter?”
“You... probably haven’t noticed it, but you’ve been mixing up ‘Major’ and ‘Colonel’ when referring to me.”
As he had been promoted from major to lieutenant-colonel and from lieutenant-colonel to colonel, it could be said that referring to Gilbert with a lower rank was terribly inappropriate.
Violet corrected her posture and apologized again, “I... am sorry. My apologies, Colonel.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m not angry... Ever since you were little, you used to call me that. The first word I heard from you was this one, too. I’m saying that if you can’t get used to it, I don’t mind the ‘Major’.”
“‘Colonel’... Colonel, I will not mistake it anymore.”
Her figure as she attempted to memorize it, in order not to forget it, was lovably stubborn. Gilbert caught a glimpse of her past self from that immature aspect of hers.
At the beginning, the two of them had had an inept exchange. Almost like how children would do it, they had told each other their names.
“Ma... jor.”
“Can you understand what I’m saying, Violet?”
“Major.”
After learning words and coming to know discipline, she had become his weapon.
“If that is Major’s order...”
“It’s not an order...”
“If... it is your desire...”
He had wound up loving the girl-weapon.
“Major’s eyes are here.”
“I wonder... what this is called.”
It had been a one-sided love.
“I will become your ‘shield’ and ‘weapon’.”
“I shall protect you.”
“Please do not ever doubt this. I am your ‘asset’.”
Even so, he had loved her.
“I love you!”
“I don’t want to let you die! Violet!”
“I love you, Violet.”
The girl-weapon had wept that she did not understand what she had been bestowed with.
“What is... ‘love’?”
No one had taught her about it.
“What is... ‘love’? What is... ‘love’? What is ‘love’?”
“I do not understand, Major...”
She had also not understood why he had said such a thing to her.
“What is... ‘love’?”
She had searched for the meaning of those words and for him, who had disappeared, encountering them by chance at last.
And so, they had reached the present time.
“Violet.” Gilbert took her artificial fingertips as she stood still.
Her index finger made screeching sounds.
“Since we’re at it, won’t you call me by my name?” He pointed her finger at himself.
The fingertips that used to be soft and have body temperature in the past did not anymore. The same applied to one of Gilbert’s arms.
“I am Gilbert. Gilbert Bougainvillea.” He pointed at Violet next. “You are Violet. Violet Evergarden.” He moved the finger both ways, saying, “Gilbert, Violet... Gilbert, Violet.”
The two who had ended up with mechanical part had grown and changed. They were not parent and child originally. Not siblings, either. They had also ceased being superior and subordinate.
“Lord Gilbert.”
At Violet’s predictable response, Gilbert smiled bitterly. “The ‘lord’ part... isn’t necessary.”
He had supposedly spoken gently, yet Violet showed him an aspect of disconcertment. “My apologies... Have you... come to hate me...?”
“No. I don’t know how to feel anything but affection towards you... It appears that...” while thinking that it was also valid for himself, Gilbert stated, “hum... you become insecure about it every now and then, but I’ll never hate you.”
“How come?” Violet asked.
How great would it be if he were able to show the insides of his heart to her? Presenting with a form that “this is love” would be so simple. However, it was due to not being able to do such a thing that people uttered words to proffer their love.
“Because I love you most.”
Violet started searching for that term within the sea of words embedded inside her. “‘Love... most’...” As they rolled out of her tongue, what appalling yet passionate words those were.
There was no other sentence more fitting of Gilbert Bougainvillea.
“Love me... most?”
“I have eyes for nobody but you. You’re the only one I’m fond of.”
“That is... to love most?”
“I will hold you dear for eternity, and continue to love you.”
She did not ask “That is... to love most?” a second time. Violet’s cheeks were rose-dusted, her heart started palpitating to the point of aching, and her field of vision blurred. She was unable to look at Gilbert’s face. Unwittingly, she cast her head down, yet he wound up peering at it. The distance between their faces was just about enough for them to kiss.
It was currently nighttime and the two of them were alone in that place, so whatever they did, no one would be looking. Maybe they could manage to keep it a secret even from God.
“I had a phase of... liking you... then I fell in love with you, and now, it turns out I love you the most. Do you understand?”
“Does it never diminish?”
“The affection?”
“The love.”
“I wonder. But I don’t want that to happen and will probably reconfirm whether I do love you numerous times, so it’ll likely intensify, not decrease. You fill me up with it.”
“With love?”
“Yes. The reason why I believe I love you is because you granted me that feeling.”
Violet Evergarden, who had been learning and copying from him – from people –, was able to take in the meaning of those words.
“I do that to you, Major?”
Again, her manner of referring to him had changed. Gilbert thought it was fine either way.
“You do that to me.” Gilbert silently planted a kiss not on Violet’s cheek or lips but on the fingertips that he was holding onto.
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Silence.
Those were artificial fingers. She was unable to feel anything from them. Her arms were gone, and would nevermore return.
Placing a kiss on such a spot could transmit nothing.
Even so, he had deliberately kissed it in an affectionate manner. For some reason, that action – Gilbert’s feelings – caused Violet’s eyes to grow hot as if burning and produce tears.
Violet attempted to stop them. Those were incomprehensible tears. Why were they flowing at that moment? They would definitely trouble the man in front of her.
Nevertheless, tears were already pooling in her moist eyes until, finally, a single drop spilled down. Sure enough, the round tear that had fallen from one of her eyes left Gilbert distraught.
“Violet.” Seeing her reaction, he promptly let go of her fingers. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, raising both hands as if to have her understand that he would not do anything else. “I’m really sorry.”
Violet did not answer. She stared at Gilbert without even wiping off the tear as if spacing out. Her attitude was not of anger. Her aspect was not of sorrow, either. He had no idea what she was thinking. She had the gaze of someone who seemed to be having a dream.
The two of them had lived separately, and he had thought that her facial expressions had become richer ever since they had reunited, but once she clammed up, he could not read her. Her lack of expression and well-featured doll-like traits did not allow Gilbert to study her emotions. However, the one thing he could fathom was that his action just now had been foolish.
——What am I doing?
He had told her that he would wait however long it took. The kiss on her fingers might have been a violation to that promise. He should have been the best gentleman for her, but he may have lost that right.
When she was by his side, she was unbearably endearing. The love towards her that lit up within his chest wound up overflowing.
“I swear I won’t do it anymore...”
The army colonel of Leidenschaftlich was losing face in front of the girl he was enamored with.
“Violet...”
What face was he making now? What did she think of it?
“Major, I...” Violet called him with her wind chime voice. She grabbed onto Gilbert’s fingers and took one step forward. The distance between them had shrunk once again. And then she took another step.
She was close enough to be embraced by Gilbert.
“Violet...”
“Major... please.” Violet peeked into Gilbert’s eye.
The emerald-green orb that had unchangeably borne beauty, kindness and a little bit of loneliness ever since they had first met was right there. Violet was now reflected in it.
Violet was inside his world.
“Do not swear so.”
Gilbert’s eyelid blinked at her straightforward words.
“Please, do not swear... that you will not do it.”
Seeing tears well up in Violet’s eyes once again, Gilbert impulsively reached an arm out to her. He caressed her golden hair as if to soothe her, earnestly listening to what she was attempting to tell him.
“Major, you explained it to me, right? That to love is to think of wanting to... protect someone the most.”
He wiped her tears with his fingertips.
Violet entrusted her cheek to his hand and shed more tears. “This has... applied to me since forever.”
She was attempting to replenish her lacking life. Rather, the truth was that the two of them could have done that from the moment they had met, for it was almost as if they made up for each other’s unskillfulness, but they had missed one another countless times and had not intersected well.
Violet’s chest was now being filled up with a warm feeling that she was experiencing for the first time.
“It always, always has, since long ago. I merely... did not know it...”
——This loud throbbing in my chest, this ecstasy, the fact that I end up swayed by your every action...
“I...”
——...the reason why I cried that I wanted to be by your side and asked you not to leave me anymore...
“Major... I...”
——...the reason why I am crying now...
“I, as of now...”
——...is that, once the “like” and the “love” fell and piled up like snow, and I became unable to melt them down, I had wanted to let you know that I wished the same to be valid for you.
“...have a feeling that I...”
People would declare it as if offering a prayer.
“...understand it better than before.”
“I love you”, that is.
494 notes · View notes
libsterslobsters · 3 years
Text
Celebration Day
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Summary: Bucky and the Reader's long-awaited wedding day is just around the corner. The only trouble is, with Pepper Potts serving as wedding planner, it's a little more elaborate than either of them had imagined. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands and create your perfect out of what's around you.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced!Reader
(Reader sees bits and pieces of the future at random, understands all languages, and is also a super soldier)
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing
Author's note: As always, the reader's name is never mentioned so that this can be read as a self-insert, but when I write this character, I imagine her as a Violet. Also, the song at the end of the fic can be anything you like, but I wrote it with Unforgettable by Nat King Cole in mind.
*************************************************
“Whoa.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, but as he takes in the huge stone building that, according to Pepper, they’ll be getting married at in two weeks’ time, he’s almost certain his eyes have gone as big as his fiancee’s. What the actual fuck? They could fit a small army inside this place.
“Is this the right place?” He’s half-way hoping she’ll say no, it was a big joke, but with a grimace, she nods.
“That is, if she sent us the right address. If not, it’s pretty remote here….” She trails off, biting at her lip.
“Does Pepper know that between the two of us, we can count the number of people we call friends on our fingers-”
“And the ones we’d actually want around to watch us make a life-long commitment to each other is even smaller? Yeah, I mentioned it.”
That’s what he was afraid of. Despite having been through some of the most intense situations known to man (fighting Thanos, anyone?), as he pulls the door closed behind him, his palm starts to sweat. Logically, he knew giving Pepper the go ahead to plan as she saw fit without any input from either of them (she did insist on footing the bill after all, so being particular would be ungrateful) meant that things would get more elaborate than he’d feel comfortable with, but this is completely out of hand.
“I’m starting to think that waiting until two weeks before the day of to take a look at things may have been a mistake.”
He chooses not to add his two cents to that (a fucking huge one, on both their parts). It turns out to be the right decision because, a huge bouquet of… are those lilies… in her hands, Pepper emerges from a side door.
“Good, you both found the place.” Yeah, it was kinda hard to miss. It’s a literal castle! “Isn’t it just beautiful?” The high-powered executive is gushing in a way that’s usually reserved for the first time seeing a great work of nature, like the Grand Canyon or possibly Niagara Falls. Not… whatever the hell this is.
“It’s very eye-catching.” The grip on his hand increases to where it’s almost painful, and he glances over at her. “Right?” In other words, don’t just stand there. Say something.
“Yeah. It’s…” Huge. Kind of reminds him of a medieval palace that would have a secret torture chamber down bellow. Decadent, but not in the “This is really great chocolate cake” kind of way. “...really something.” If that look is anything to judge from, he’s definitely in the dog house tonight… which, oddly enough, means the dog will probably spend the night cuddled up to her on his side of the bed.
Fortunately, Pepper seems not to have noticed that he’s less than enthusiastic about her choice of venue (either that, or she’s assumed that ‘vaguely unsociable’ is just his natural state), because she beams at the woman on his arm.
“Of course, it’ll look much different the day of. There will be floral arrangements in every window and…” She goes on, but he’s stopped listening, too busy trying to calculate how many people can fit in this auditorium alone.
“Any questions?” Pepper peers between both of them. He should really read the room and say no thanks, it all sounds great, but he actually is wondering about something.
“Yeah, I have one. What’s the final tally on the guest list looking like?”
“We’re standing at around 500.” 500… does he even know that many people? Scratch that; between the two of them, do THEY know that many people?
“Wow.” He glances at the woman next to him. Yeah, that’s a fake smile if he’s ever seen one. “That’s quite a turn-out.”
Pepper says something else, but he doesn’t hear it past the buzzing in his ears. It’s only when he feels a tug on his hand that he realizes they’re supposed to follow Stark’s widow out of the room.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, she turns to him, wearing a worried frown. “You okay there, Buck?”
He nods. “Yeah, but is it too late to go with your idea? Just go to the courthouse and sign a paper?”
She sighs, a rueful smile on her face. “I think that ship has sailed. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.” She deserves the best, and if Pepper has anything to do with it, this wedding will be just that. He can deal with it. It’s just for a few hours, after all.
“Does this mean I get to pull out the ‘I told you so’?” It’s a joke, meant to lighten the mood. He knows this, so he takes the bait.
“Yeah, Doll. You get a free pass.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
“How’s it coming?” She’s honestly not sure how to answer Shuri’s question. In traditional “Say Yes To The Dress” fashion, her female friends are all gathered outside the dressing room doors waiting for her to step out in the gown Pepper had designed specifically for her. The only trouble is, she’s never felt more out-of-place in her life.
It’s a beautiful dress, highlighting every single positive aspect of her body. The shade of ivory works well with her skin tone, and the material is cool against her skin. She looks exactly like a picture from a bridal magazine with her hair still styled from a trial run of that and makeup earlier today. Perfect… but not like herself.
Shaking her head, she tells herself she’s just not used to looking so formal, and pushes open the door.
Wanda, Morgan, Nakia and Shuri make appropriate noises of approval as she steps into the room. Pepper is smiling, a hand pressed to her mouth and tears rolling down her face. Only Okoye looks less than pleased.
“You look so fierce.” Shuri informs her, rushing forward to adjust her train.
“A total knockout.” Nakia nods.
“You look like a doll!” She chuckles at the four-year-old’s exclamation. It’s very sweet, probably the best compliment she’s ever gotten. Plus, she’s starting to feel like a doll.
“Okoye?” The general eyes her up and down, expression unchanging.
“How are you planning to fight in that dress?”
Wanda and Pepper freeze, unsure of how to react, but Nakia laughs and Shuri rolls her eyes.
“It’s her wedding day, General. She isn’t fighting anyone.” Shuri exclaims between giggles.
“This is an American wedding. The most physical thing they do is dance.” Nakia adds.
“Until the wedding night, that is.” And now she’s trying not to snicker at the princess’s innuendo.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. A tailor checks and rechecks the measurements, pinning up whatever he deems too long or large, letting out anything too constricting. Girl talk ensues and the champagne flows. By the time they go their separate ways, each with a bridesmaid’s (or in Morgan’s case, flower girl) dress in their possession, she’s the only one who’s not at least slightly buzzed.
She should really head home. It’s late in the afternoon, and she’s still got papers to grade. However, she finds herself driving in the opposite direction of where she lives. After today, she needs some time to herself, away from anyone else and the possibility of unintentionally seeing their future.
At a red light, she stops and dictates a voice-to-text message, informing Barnes that, “It’s going to be a late one. Stopping by a few places on the way home. Let me know if you want me to pick up something.” The reply comes thirty seconds later. “Take your time. Text me when you’re on your way. Stay safe.” This wedding may not be exactly what she’d pick for herself, but the man she gets to spend the rest of her life alongside certainly is.
She drives aimlessly for a while, no destination in mind. Finally, she decides that while she’s out, she may as well kill two birds with one stone. Pepper mentioned that they’re still lacking the “something old” from ‘something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue’. She considered joking that the groom is over a century old so they’ve got that covered, but as an antique store appears on her right, she decides to go in and see if anything catches her eye.
A bell rings as soon as she steps inside, and although she can’t see anyone, a voice calls out from the center of the store to, “Shout if you need anything.” It’s a hodgepodge of various items, most in disrepair, all covered in a blanket of dust. She comes across a coin in the display counter minted in 1917 and is about to ask if she can get a closer look at it (there’s something about a sixpence in a shoe if she’s remembering correctly), but that’s when she sees it.
The wedding dress is clearly vintage, more than likely an original. As she takes a closer look at the tag, she sees that it reads “hand sewn, 1942”. The price is marked $25 dollars, a good deal even if it were in disrepair. Instead, she can’t find a thing wrong with it. It’s almost as if someone unearthed this in the back of a closet, perfectly preserved, and thought, “Here’s a way to make a quick buck.” For a moment, she allows herself to dream of how she’d look in it, but as the salesperson appears, she pushes that daydream to the side.
“May I see the nickel from 1917, please?”
With one last longing look at the dress, she pays for her purchase, and leaves the store behind.
___________________________________________________________________________________
It’s not unusual for him to have nightmares. Most times, he can tell that what’s going on around him is a dream, not real life, and wake himself up. Not tonight, however. It all feels too real, not one of his usual dreamscapes, so that he’s stuck reliving a scene from earlier in the day.
It really wasn’t that big of a deal. Coming out of the pet store on his way home with a few bags of dog food (not to mention more toys than the mutt really needs because, despite himself, he’s a sucker for their tripod of a dog), he got recognized. There was the flash of a picture being taken to his right, and when he turned, a man holding a smartphone asked, “Hey, you’re that Winter Solder guy, aren’t you?” In reality, he pretended not to have heard and kept walking, and that was the end of it. In his dream, he’s driven all the way home, only to be cornered as he’s stepping out of his car and activated by HYDRA.
“Longing-”
“Stop.”
“-rusted. Seventeen. Daybreak-”
“Not again. Please.”
“-furnace. Nine. Benign-” As the HYDRA agent speaks, he realizes that she’s in the room with him. Oh no.
“Get out of here! Run!” He tries to warn her, but she just smiles at him, and although he can’t hear what she’s saying, he can see her lips forming the words, “I love you.”
“-One. Freight Car.”
“No!” He bolts upright in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. It’s only when the chill of the night air makes him shiver that he realizes it was just a dream.
“Whoa.” He’s still trying to catch his breath when he feels her hand on his shoulder. “You’re okay, Bucky. Take some deep breaths. That’s it.” He used to be embarrassed whenever this would happen, especially if he managed to wake her up in the process. But since Thanos, all of that has gone by the wayside, and it’s a common occurrence for her to wake up screaming and flailing also.
Practice makes perfect, so it’s only a few moments before his breathing returns to normal and he feels his heart regain it’s rhythm. He turns to her to apologize, but stops short.
“You were already awake.” She nods.
“Yeah. Couldn’t sleep. My mind’s too busy.”
“Busy with what?” As he asks it, he settled back into bed, turning on his side to face her.
“Are we just gonna ignore that you had a nightmare?” He nods
“For now, yeah. It’s still too fresh.” A look of understanding settles on her face. He’s eternally grateful that she’s not one to push him into talking before he’s ready.
“I can’t stop thinking about the fucking wedding.” He snickers at her profanity. “Five hundred people, Buck. Five hundred! I don’t even know that many people, much less like them.” It’s like she’s read his mind.
“All of them staring at us…” She shudders. “It’s silly, but what if I have a vision and instead of saying “I Do” I say, ‘Watch your head!’ or something else just as stupid?”
“Then you’ll be doing better than me.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “I keep having this recurring dream that we get around to the vows and I forget how to talk. Then I look down and realize I’m not wearing pants.” That reminds him… “You still haven’t told me how trying on the dress went.”
She sighs.
“It was an experience.” That can’t be good.
“Didn’t it fit?”
“Oh, it fit.” She nods. “Like a glove.” Then what’s the problem? “It’s a beautiful dress, and I really appreciate all the effort Pepper put into it, but…” Oh. Now he thinks he understands.
“It’s not quite what you imagined.” It’s not a question, but she nods.
“No, but then again, I never imagined my wedding dress because I never imagined getting married.”
“But you still want to, right?” He shouldn’t ask that, but there’s a niggling fear at the back of his mind that she’s realized she doesn’t want to be stuck with him for the rest of their lives.
“Of course I do.” They’re facing each other, crumpled sheets between then, and she reaches out to caress his cheek. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Barnes, nightmare wedding or not.”
They’re quiet for a few minutes, the only sound the air vents circulating a cool breeze through the bedroom. Then she asks,
“Did you ever imagine it? A wedding or getting married?” It’s not something he’d easily admit to most people, but he nods.
“Yeah, I did. Back before the war.”
“Tell me about it.” She closes her eyes, and he can’t help but feel a slight wave of excitement that he gets to see her like this forever.
“It wasn’t like I spent a lot of time daydreaming about it, but…” It was just one of those natural things, a given in life; you get a job, find a girl, get married, and settle down to have a houseful of kids. When the war started, he saw so many of his friends go ahead and tie the knot with their girls before they shipped out, and he took it for granted that one day, he’d do the same thing.
“I guess I figured on having Steve there, standing up with me.” Of course, now Steve is an old man, physically as well as chronologically. He’ll be there of course. Even serve as the best man. However, it looks a little different than he imagined. “It’d probably be small, because we weren’t dirt poor, but we weren’t exactly rich either. Friends and family.” She nods, eyelids still lowered. “Didn’t put much thought into decorations or clothes, but I imagined walking out with her on my arm, whoever the girl ended up being-” Even in his wildest dreams, he couldn’t have imagined a woman as incredible as this. “-and dancing together after it, then heading back to our house, just the two of us.”
“It sounds-” She yawns, and he knows she’s nearly asleep. “-perfect.”
It does to him too, but over time, things change. Even if it sounds nice, a 1940’s shindig probably wouldn’t cut it in today’s busy world with it’s easy access to perfection. Still, a huge chunk of him wishes he could just steal her away and make their promises to each other in private. That makes him wonder: what did it look like when Steve and Peggy got hitched? He supposes he can ask soon enough. Steve’s arriving tomorrow after all.
___________________________________________________________________________________
“You need any help in there?” Steve thinks about shooting back that he may be old (well, ancient is probably more accurate at this stage) but he can still manage to put on his pants without help, thanks. Instead he just answers,
“Nope. Just giving you a few extra minutes to primp before I come out and embarrass you by pulling off this suit better than you do.” As he pulls on his jacket, he hears Bucky laugh.
“Whatever you say, punk.”
He’s lived a full life, made plenty of other friends. However, he still hasn’t clicked the same way he does with the jerk from Brooklyn, even if said jerk is now seventy years younger than him.
“Alright, I’m done making myself pretty. Get out here, old man.” Chuckling, he pushes open the changing room door and joins Sam and Bucky.
“I don’t know what you two are bragging about.” Sam grins and straightens his tie. “Clearly I’m the best looking person here even without being hopped up on super soldier mojo.”
Bucky fakes a frown and elbows Sam.
“Remind me again why you’re invited to my wedding?”
“Because the bride likes me.”
“No accounting for taste.”
“Clearly, since she’s marrying you.”
Even though it’s obviously a joke, Steve internally winces. He’s already half-way expecting to talk Bucky down off the ledge at least three times in the next two days, convince him that yes you you are good enough for this girl, no I don’t think she’s making a mistake entrusting her future to you. Back in the day, he was the shy one with a lack of self-confidence. After everything HYDRA did, it’s his best friend who believes he’s unworthy of a second chance at life.
However, throughout most of the morning, there’s absolutely no sign of the impending breakdown. Steve’s nearly convinced that he’s guessed wrong, that there won’t be any fires to put out when, on the drive back to his hotel room, it happens.
“Can I ask you something?” He can’t really read his best friend’s facial expression since the other man is driving, facing straight ahead, but if the tension in body language is anything to judge from, this isn’t going to be a casual conversation.
“Sure.”
“Were you nervous before you and Peggy tied the knot?”
He nods.
“More like scared shitless.” It wasn’t the fact that, for the rest of their lives, they would be tied together, not just emotionally but legally as well. If anything, he was nearly giddy with excitement over that part. “All those people with their eyes on you and your dearly beloved? Don’t tell anyone, but five minutes before I had to be in place, I was in the bathroom losing my lunch.” Bucky snickers, and even he chuckles at the memory. “But I got through it because it was her. She was what I wanted at the end of the day. I would’ve gone through with it in front of a million people or in a broom closet. It didn’t matter. Everything except Peg was just trappings.”
Neither of them say anything else for the rest of the trip. On Steve’s part, he’s mentally reliving the day he married Peggy Carter through his memories. In fact, he’s so busy reminiscing that he doesn’t realize the car has stopped moving and they’re parked outside the hotel until his name is called for what must be at least the third time.
“Sorry.” He smiles apologetically. “It’s just a side affect of getting old: you spend a lot of time stuck in the past and forget about the present.”
“It’s okay.”
He reaches to open his door, but before he can-
“Do you have anything going this afternoon? Maybe need to take a nap or something?” This time, he doesn’t swallow down the sarcastic comment that springs to mind.
“Yeah, right after I finish rubbing liniment on my joints, I’m gonna go down to the old folks’ home and play bingo, maybe yell at some kids to get off my lawn. That is, unless you have something else in mind.”
“Well, I was gonna go interrupt my girl’s day and ask her if she’d go down to the courthouse and elope with me since we’re both dreading the trappings, but it sounds like you’re busy, so…”
It’ll smart later, but he tags the back of his best friend’s head.
“Go get your girl, jerk. Just tell me when and where to meet you.”
“Are you sure you don’t need a nap?”
“Respect your elders!”
___________________________________________________________________________________
She’s elbow deep in clothing (when the hell did they acquire that many tshirts between them), attempting to make a dent in the number of things they still have to pack before next week’s move-in date, when she hears the apartment door open. That’s weird. He’s not supposed to be home until later in the day. It’s unnecessary, a reflex at this point, but she feels for the hidden knife she still keeps on her at nearly all times. It’s most likely not an intruder, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.
The funny thing about living with someone is that the little things about them, details you never forced yourself to pay attention to, become ingrained in your memory without you realizing it. In this case, she recognizes the speed and heaviness of the footfalls, and that’s what makes her lower her guard.
“In the bedroom.” He hasn’t asked, but it’ll save him from looking through each room that comes before this one. And, if he’s home this early, they’ll probably have something to discuss.
“Hey.”
As she repeats the greeting back to him, she studies his expression. A smile, small but genuine. Also… nervous? That’s strange. She’s gotten good at reading the tiny tells that are still there behind the perfect, unflappable mask, but usually it takes her a lot longer to crack the code. Something major is going on.
“How’s the packing coming?” As he asks, he picks up a shirt (one of his, although it’s not folded) and tosses it into a box.
“It’s coming along fine. Do you want to talk about it some more or dive into why you’re home so early?”
“That depends. Do you already know what I’m gonna say?”
She shakes her head. No visions so far, at least not about this.
“Then I guess I’d better quit stalling.” That doesn’t sound good. “So, about the wedding.” For a moment, she’s worried he’s calling it off, that he’s decided he’d rather not spend the rest of his life with her. But if that were the case, wouldn’t he have mentioned it last night when they were both lying there unable to sleep, discussing things? “Is it safe to say we’re both dreading it? Not what comes after, but the part where five hundred of our closest friends stare at us?”
Her lips curl into a smirk.
“You could say that.”
“Well, I was thinking that maybe there’s a way to avoid it and still get the job done. Something more like what we talked about last night. You were awake for that part, right?”
Barely. In fact, she remembers her final thought before drifting off being, “I wish we could do things that way.” Still…
“Pepper’s put so much effort in. People are traveling, have already made arrangements-”
“So we still show up on Saturday, but behind the scenes, we would’ve already made things official. Maybe gone to the courthouse like you wanted to, just us and Steve? One other person if you had anyone in mind, since there need to be two witnesses?” It’s an appealing idea. The marriage license is still sitting on the kitchen table, waiting for them to sign on the day of. In theory, all they need to do is make an appointment and show up with their two witnesses. In practice…
“Hypothetically speaking, when would we be doing this?” Immediately, the small sign of nervousness melts from his face.
“This afternoon at four thirty, since that’s the only time before Saturday they had available. Hypothetically.”
She pretends to think about it, but can’t hide the smile that sneaks across her face.
“Then it’s a yes.” Now they’re both smiling like idiots. Taking his offered hand, she rights herself and circles her arms around his neck.
“So we’re really doing this, huh?” His arms wrap around her, and now they’re so close, she can feel his heart beating.
“Looks that way.” She leans up, closing the gap between them and presses her lips against his.
It’s tempting to just stand there, making out like teenagers, but eventually, she has to back away. It’s comical how startled he looks (that and slightly flustered).
“I’ve gotta get out of here.”
“What?”
She snickers. “I don’t know much about weddings, but I’m fairly certain you’re not supposed to see me ahead of time. Bad luck and all.”
“Wouldn’t want to risk that.” With one last peck, he lets her go. “Do you want me to head out and give you the apartment, or-”
“No, you stay. I actually have some errands to run.” Not saying another word (otherwise, she’ll end up gushing about how she can’t to start their life together), she grabs her keys from the nightstand and heads towards the door.
Once she’s in the car, a memory from the other day of that 1940s wedding dress sitting in an antique store comes back to her. There wasn’t a size on the label, and the material might be too fragile for her to even get it on her body. But it was so… perfect. It’s decided: she’s going in search of it. If it fits her, yay! If it doesn’t work out, she’s still got enough time to stop in at a department store and purchase something else.
The whole thing is slightly absurd. She peals into the antique store and, after eyeballing the dress, purchases it without so much as trying it on. Then, stopping at a fast food place, she undresses in a bathroom stall and pulls on the dress. The material is slightly musty from all the years of disuse, but it goes on easily. As she peers at herself in the bathroom mirror, a giggle rises from deep inside her. For the first time in this whole process, she feels like a bride.
She’s still dressed in the vintage white gown when she steps inside the first florist’s shop she comes across The woman behind the counter gives her a strange look, but doesn’t ask any questions as she sells her the simple bouquet of violets with a few pieces of greenery. She knows she must look odd, but she can’t bring herself to care. She’s flying too high. Maybe that’s the reason why, as she puts the finishing touches on her makeup, still in her car, she tucks a few of the flowers into her hair. There. That’s better.
She spots his car in the parking lot, so she knows he’s already there. That’s when the nerves hit her. This is it. They’re actually doing this. After today they won’t just be to people sharing an apartment (among other things); they’ll be husband and wife. She’s ready. God, is she ready. But the enormity of it is intimidating. What if she’s not a good wife? What if he’s expecting her to be the perfect domestic goddess (that’s absurd, she knows, but rationality just flew out the window)? Or on a more practical level, what if he doesn’t like how she looks? There’s only one way to find out. Slowly, hands shaking, she pulls open the courthouse door.
Steve’s waiting for her just inside the building. Apparently, he takes traditions very seriously, because when she asks where Bucky is, he just shakes his head. “He’s here, but you’re not gonna see him until you’re in the room, about to sign the paperwork.” She’s not going to fight it (after all, she’s the one who brought up separating in the first place), but she does still have a question.
“Steve, can I ask you for a massive favor?”
“Sure.” Here it goes.
“I know there’s not a real aisle, but would you walk me inside?” He may be seventy years older than he was when she met him, but the smile is still the same.
“Yeah. I’d be honored to do it.”
___________________________________________________________________________________
Bucky’s not sure what the connection is between being so nervous you’re ready to climb the walls and the urge to pace, but regardless, that’s what he’s doing. The clock in the office where he’ll be exchanging vows with the woman he loves more than he ever thought was possible reads four twenty-nine. One minute left, give or take. One minute, and then the rest of his life begins.
The seconds hand seems to move incredibly slowly, but finally, it reaches it’s destination. On cue, the door opens, and all the breath leaves his lungs. Here she is.
It’s not the way he’d imagined it as a kid. Steve’s not at his side. He’s considerably older, rougher around the edges. They’re in a courthouse instead of a church. But as a kid, he also didn’t imagine anything that can compare to her.
It goes without saying that she’s beautiful; that’s always the case. But all the old stories are true: there’s something about seeing her in a white dress walking towards him just before they promise to love, honor, and cherish each other for the rest of their lives that makes her shine like never before. She’s not just beautiful. She’s brilliant.
“Hey.” Right. He need to say something.
“Hey. You made it.”
She chuckles and pushes back a stray tendril.
“Yeah, well I had a date I was really excited for, so I rearranged my schedule.”
Before he can say anything else (he’s not sure what, because frankly, all thoughts except “I love you” have disappeared), the door opens and a man in a business suit sticks his head out.
“Is everyone here?”
He looks at her for confirmation.
“Everyone that needs to be.”
“Then right this way.”
He’s not aware of much that is said during the ceremony after they join hands, too busy memorizing what she looks like so he’ll never forget. This is definitely one of those moments you want to carry with you the rest of your life.
They stick to the standard vows. He takes her to be his lawfully wedded wife to have and hold from this day forward, for better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish ‘til death do them part, and vise versa. As he slips the ring on her finger, he catches her eye and mouths a silent, “I love you.”, which she repeats back as she slides on his wedding band.
“By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” That’s it. This is real. They’re married. “You may kiss the bride.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.
After the paperwork is signed, they agree to go and have dinner. Steve’s come all this way, and something seems right about celebrating with his oldest friend. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead to make a reservation so, still dressed in their formal clothes, they slide into a corner booth at a local diner. Nothing important is said; it’s mostly laughter and inside jokes between a group of friends. By seven o’clock, he’s dropped Steve off at his hotel and is on his way back home.
The apartment is mostly packed up at this point. The only things left are their clothes, a few kitchen and bathroom essentials, and their bed. Even the record player she gave him as a birthday gift has been shipped off to the townhouse they’ll officially move into sometime next week. But, he thinks to himself as he lets himself in, the great thing about going to sleep in 1945 and waking up in the 2000s is that while his taste in music may not have evolved by much, technology has. Which means-
“Hey, stranger.” She’s still wearing the dress, their dog sitting next to her on the bed with his head in her lap. It would be a crime to let that go to waste.
“Come here.” He motions for her to join him, and as soon as she stands, starts scrolling through is phone.
“What are you doing?” The confusion melts from her face as the first few notes of the song fill the room.
Holding out his hand, he asks, “May I have this dance?”
A soft smile crosses her face as, nodding, she folds herself into his arms.
“You can have every dance.”
Two days from now, they’ll stand in front of five hundred people, most of whom they've never met before, and make their vows once again. It'll be uncomfortable and even a little jarring, but it won’t matter. Steve's right: it’s all trappings. What’s real is now; the beautiful woman in his arms, his wife, and the life they’ll build together. It’s not what Bucky imagined all those years ago as a naïve kid in Brooklyn. This is far better.
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hyu-ck · 5 years
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*the little, overpriced general store down the street was a mockery to your late night excursions, but now, that mocking had a voice. and a painfully handsome face.
Characters: Reader, Mark Lee, Lee Donghyuck
Pairing: Reader/Donghyuck
Genre: Fluff // BagBoy!Haechan // Bad Jokes
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: Light Language
“Judging someone’s groceries is a cardinal sin, you know.”
The boy bagging your groceries looks up at you, his nose still scrunched in distaste. A snort sounds from the cashier.
“It’s a human right, not a sin. If someone buys-” he looks back to the item he just bagged, ignoring the scowl on your face to read the label again, “-pigs in a blanket pringles-” he fake gags, “-I have a right to be disgusted.”
You scoff, as politely at you can manage to a stranger, and turn back to the decidedly nicer cashier. He had finished ringing up your items, just waiting patiently for you to swipe your card in the near-empty corner store that was about a sprint away from your university dorm.
The sun had dropped away early today, replaced by the frequent bundle of gray clouds that shivered and shook the streetlights into flickering yellow splotches through the rain’s haze. October meant mudslicks and dangerous roads, but sweet smelling morning grasses and the occasional marigold breach of sunlight through the damp war. You were one of the few who tolerated the pours, albeit some days begrudgingly, because you loved the cold much more when the wind would sweep the leaves into small cyclones of color, pulling the forest’s drenched scent with it to knock its twine knuckles on your dorm’s window.
Your gaze pulled away from the large storefront windows and the storm outside when the your receipt began to churn out, catching a few times on the machinery. The total came out splotchy. The judgemental bagger boy put the last of your groceries away with minimal complaint, but as you gathered your bags on your hands and wrists he seemed like he couldn’t stray from running his mouth for long.
“How do you even eat those?” he asks, continuing to ignore human decency and all other laws of interaction.
As he hands you the final bag you glare at him, choosing to discard any notion of his handsomeness in favor of your annoyance (no matter if his skin still glowed in the harsh fluorescent lighting or if his eyes, dark and muted, were ringed in thick lashes).
“With my mouth, which is exactly where your foot is right now,” you mutter, peeking over his shoulder towards the window and realizing now, with the rain as steady as it had become, your hood would no longer be sufficient.
“Hyuck, don’t argue with the customers,” the cashier scolded, his hand drifting uncomfortably to the back of his neck. You noticed his nametag had a large sun sticker on it, right beside the harshly scrawled Mark.
“I’m not arguing, I’m inquiring,” ‘Hyuck’ dismissed him, and it seemed that Mark had little energy to dispel his peer’s rebuttal, as he simply mouthed an apology to you in his discomfort.
You weren’t even bothered at this point, maybe you were at first, but the whole interaction had served equal portions of amusement and annoyance (and maybe a dash of confusion). The amusement was beginning to win over, as you could see the totally-not-cute ‘Hyuck’ fighting down a smirk at your last comment, his eyes dancing from beneath the dark bangs that were escaping his cap.
“My feet are firmly on this floor- and to be honest?” he paused, bending his knees experimentally, “I don’t think I’m flexible enough to get it so high.”
You levelled him a short chuckle (more air than anything) for his efforts, the plastic beginning to dig into your skin. “Well, since you're obviously not the type to bend over backwards for anyone but yourself, I wouldn’t be surprised if touching your toes was hard.”
“Now your jumping to conclusions. I’m a very nice person- a good samaritan, a charitable character.”
“Good samaritans would mind their own business when it came to grocery judgement.”
“Would a good samaritan not fight for free thought? One face didn’t harm you did it?” he asked you, leaning forward as his arms crossed across his chest. You heard Mark’s sigh, loud and defeated, and you fought your grin away.
“Good samaritans have manners,” you quipped back.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t pander to strange boys’ theatrics.”
He laughed, breaking the rhythm of your exchange, letting his smile take the place of his smirk. You decided you liked it much better.
“Do you need help taking your groceries to your car?” ‘Hyuck’ asked you, softening his approach.
“Oh,” you muttered, twisting the bags into a new position that would cut off your bloodflow ever slightly less, “I walked, so thank you, but I’m okay.”
His eyebrows raised as he turned to look outside and then back to you. “It’s pouring.”
“Really? Didn’t notice, could’ve sworn that sound was just the a/c,” you deadpanned, maneuvering the bags on your left hand back to your arm so you could flick up your hood.
“And here I thought we were at a truce,” ‘Hyuck’ sighed.
You flicked your eyes down to his nametag quickly, as not to appear too obvious of your curiosity. No sun sticker, but a couple of small cartoon rabbit stickers decorated the red background, similar to the ones you got out of 50¢ machines. It contrasted starkly against the plain gray uniforms, a scratchy-looking polo that Donghyuck had pulled over a black hoodie, none of the buttons done up.
“I never agreed to any detente,” you smiled, thanking Mark one more time and heading away to brave the rain. When you got to the dorm, sufficiently soaked but your groceries mostly salvaged by their bags, you didn’t think about the cute employee with his quips and heart-shaped lips when you threw the can of pringles at your roommate.
☁☁☁☁☁
The next time you went to the general store on the corner of East and Main it was not raining, but the sun was still long gone, kissing the tips of the trees goodnight and levying her pink and purple bruises across the horizon. The night was encroaching, Atlas’ shoulders shifting as the world turned, and your roommate had drunk the last of the wine. The last of your favorite red.
You had chosen to walk again, warmed inside by the taste of pinot, the biting cold slipping your mindless stupor. As you yanked open the door, the chiming bell announcing your entrance, the buzz of the space heater hitting your bare thighs was your first indication of your forgetfulness. Maybe spandex shorts weren’t the proper choice for 30 degree weather.
Shrugging off your misjudgement you stumbled slightly towards the back wall, the shelves stacked high and packed full with anything from paprika to damn pigs in a blanket flavored pringles. The liquor was walled up in the back, underneath the dome-shaped mirror that surveyed the store under the (barely) watchful eye of the cashier and co. You surveyed the selection with a hum breaking through your lips, your fingers tugging on the strings of your three-sizes-too-large hoodie, the hemline threatening your shorts every so often. You rocked in your shoes till you spotted a familiar bottle, the black labelling and quirky name a string of christmas lights calling you home. You plucked it greedily, swaying back to the front of the store and ignoring a man’s judgemental stare at your dress and purchase.
You shouldn’t have been surprised at the two manning the checkout, familiar faces hovered behind the stacks of gum and cheap lighters.
“Is this all?” Mark asked you for professionalism, the words rolling off his tongue on auto pilot.
You nodded, forcing yourself not to stare at Donghyuck or the way his messy hair was free today, curling slightly against his forehead, or revel in the red hoodie he was swimming in, looking warm and sweet. He chuckled to himself as you handed the bottle of wine over to Mark, and you flicked your eyes to him, your brow quirked as your hands fiddled to pull the hem of your shorts down, your hoodie up.
“Sure you don’t want a little something to help you soak that up?” Donghyuck teased you, taking the bottle from Mark’s passing hand and double bagging it for you.
“Haven’t grown, I see,” you sighed theatrically, your cheeks feeling warm and eyes heavy in your tipsy involvement.
“Actually, at least 0.1cm since last time,” he joked, holding the bag to his side as he waited for you to pay Mark, who rolled his eyes at Donghyuck’s comment.
“Very funny,” you said.
“Only for the pretty customers,” he winked, and you refused to believe your hands weren’t steady when you gave Mark the ten dollar bill that had been stuffed in your sweatshirt’s pocket.
“First arguing, now flirting, don’t make me tell Taeil,” Mark tsked.
“That’s not flirting-” you began to dispel the claim, but Donghyuck seemed intent on making you flush worse and worse.
“It certainly is,” he smiled brightly at you when you turned to him, “And since you can’t tell, I guess I’ll have to try harder, doll.”
“Only the second meeting and your sure enough that I’m not insane to flirt with me?” Your alcohol drizzled brain had little filtering to offer, so you elected to go along with the responses as they appeared, better than mumbling incoherently as your face blazed sure-fire red.
“Oh, I know your insane,” Donghyuck laughed, still withholding your bag even now that you clutched your receipt and change in hand, ready to stuff it in your pocket and freeze your way back to your dorm room, “Maybe it’s why I’m flirting with you.”
“Well if you have taste in insane girls, maybe I don’t want you flirting with me.”
Not your best, but hey, the night was young and you wanted to go home and get drunk with Yves while watching crime shows and reliving these moments with her as addition to your accidental infatuation with the general store’s bag boy.
“That’s not fun for either of us then, is it?” he smirked, holding your bag out to the side of himself, forcing you to step closer to retrieve it. He propped his hip against the counter, chain that was clipped to his black jeans clashing with the linoleum tile that ran up the side of the checkout counter.
You grasped the plastic handles, tugging slightly when he didn’t let go. “I’m pretty sure this is mine,” you raised your brows at him.
“Really? You wanted this?” he feigned innocence, letting go of the bag completely, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“You’re a bit annoying, you know.”
“I know,” Mark called in agreement.
As you started towards the door a hand caught your wrist, causing you to turn back and stare blankly at the body attached to said hand.
“You didn’t walk again, did you?” Donghyuck asked you, eyes flicking down to your bare legs and thin pink socks that led into your sneakers.
“Well I certainly didn’t run, no.”
He rolled his eyes. “You really don’t prep well for the outdoor elements, you know that, right?”
You gazed downwards at your attire once more and remembered the week before with your stuffy nose and rain pelted hair. “It sorta slipped my mind.”
“What, pants?” Donghyuck scoffed, “I’d worry about you at parties then.”
“Hilarious.”
“Here,” he let go of your warm wrist finally, ducking back behind the counter and through the door that was tucked beyond it, coming back with a large, white puffy coat, “At least take this.”
“Is this yours?” you muttered, your brain still a bit too slowed to process this.
“Who else’s?”
“I don’t know, maybe you stole Mark’s.”
The corner of Donghyuck’s mouth twitched for a moment before he realized something. “Wait-” he looked between Mark and you, “-how’d you know Mark’s name?”
You laughed, taking your hand and pressing it to his nametag. “I’m not illiterate you know.”
Donghyuck looked down to where your hand was pushing the pin gently into his shirt. “Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh’.”
“Well it’s not fair for you to know my name, and take my coat without at least your name in return.”
“Afraid I’ll keep it for good?” you teased him, plucking the coat from his offered arm and pulling it on, switching your bag back and forth between your hands.
“That and use my dna from it to clone me.”
“I’m a college freshman, not an evil genius.”
“A college freshman without a name, it seems.”
“Y/N.”
He smiled, and you noticed that when his lips moved his moles danced with the pull of his cheeks.
“Well, Y/N,” he lamented, “I desperately hope you bring that jacket back to me.”
“I may have to keep it,” you muttered, “Make you come to me instead.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“Goodbye Donghyuck.”
☁☁☁☁☁
Three days later, tucked deep into Donghyuck’s coat and a sweater thick enough to withstand the worst of torrential rainfall and refrigerated ends of supermarkets, you worked your way through a sticky-note scribbled list of items with your hair falling in your eyes. The wheel of your cart was crooked, dragging the alignment left every few seconds you found yourself distracted by the itch of your nose or the pattern of the tile rattling the metal basket with each slothish step. It was only five o’clock, your post-chem-lab depression still settled into your bones, the skylights darkened as they howled under the force of the never-ending storm. A child shrieked to your left, begging for bed and chocolate and whatever gimmie they could get, their mother with a crease in her forehead, her hands weary. To your right, rows upon rows of yogurt and cheese and any type of dairy your roommate would regret consuming, but a loud pink pen screamed at you in swirly scribe anyways: ‘You better get 1% this time!’.
As your eyes threatened to close, your chin tucked deep to your chest, smelling Donghyuck’s jacket like a mask, maraschino cherries and rubber, a finger tapped on your shoulder.
“I think I have a jacket just like that.”
Turning quickly, much too aware of the bags under your eyes, you came face to face with Donghyuck, free of the confining uniform to being swallowed by a washed out flannel, and of course, a hoodie beneath it.
“Really? A friend lent it to me,” you pushed your cart slightly to the side so you could procure a- one percent- pint of milk from the rack.
“So we’re friends now?” he laughed, the basket on his arm sliding down when he reached to pull your cart into his hands. You didn’t bother correcting him, simply glancing to your sticky note and moving down towards the frozen section.
“Im wearing your coat and you’re pushing my grocery cart,” you eyed his position behind you, his basket now resting in aforementioned cart, “I’d say that makes us friends- unless, I suppose, old habits die hard.”
“At least I have a job, doll.”
You scoff, turning towards the small company of sorbet that stacked high behind the transparent freezer doors. “Who said I was unemployed?”
“I assume you take classes at RISD, and considering the hours that you stumble into the store, it doesn’t exactly leave room for a job.”
“Me going to RISD and ever so often showing up past seven means nothing.”
“Then where do you work?” Donghyuck followed up as you stalked off towards the produce.
“Books-a-Million.”
“You read?” he asked.
“Surprising, I know,” you rolled your eyes, snapping a bag from the roll to shove a head of lettuce into.
“Do you enjoy it?”
“Do you enjoy sacking someone else’s groceries?”
He shrugged, placing his foot on the bottom of the cart to roll it back and forth as you surveyed the condition of the apples. “I suppose not.”
“And I concur.”
“Surely it’s not so bad,” he said, “cute customers have to arrive at some point or another.”
You eye his knowing smile, refusing to play along.
“Sure, but they’re usually wrapped around someone else’s arm.”
“Are you wrapped around someone else’s arm?”
“Smooth.”
“Can’t blame a man for trying,” he sighed, pushing quicker so that he was right beside you, “Is that a no?”
You laugh briskly. “It’s a no.”
“Great,” Donghyuck said, tugging you back into his stride with his hand on his jacket’s pocket, “because it would be really nice to see you outside a grocery store.”
“What? Not a fan of the scenery?” you tease.
“Only some of it.”
Laughing, you pull him along to a checkout aisle. “Maybe we should try the bookstore next.”
“How about dinner?”
Eyes flicking up to his, filled with a mirthful hope, lighted up by the strikes of lightning as they shook to building like a cradle, you nodded. “I think dinner would be nice, Hyuck.”
FIN.
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the-broken-truth · 3 years
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The Strings That Bind Us ~ Servant of House Beneviento
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Summary: Vulcan becomes The Servant of House Beneviento. How will he do?
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Male OC (Vulcan)
[A Few Hours From Sundown]
"And this will be your room." The small puppet said as she pushed open a door that revealed a room. One full-sized bed against the same wall that the door resided in but was placed in the center of the wall. The bed was downed in a blanket with dark grey and blue color schemes with two pillows at the head of the bed in grey pillowcases. Underneath the bed was a decent-sized grey rug that complimented the grey tile floor. On either side of the bed were dark grey hardwood nightstands - the left of which had a lamp and a small alarm clock. Across from the bed - on the other side of the room - was a study workstation with a chair, the dresser was tucked away in the corner, and the main closet was sitting on the adjacent wall of the dresser.
Vulcan walked into the room after Angie stepped away and looked around with a smile on his face, he left his cloak in the entrance hallway where the coatrack was located; revealing the black shirt and jeans he was wearing, along with his black boots and belt - the belt contained two sheathes that held his daggers. Lord Heisenberg wanted so badly to keep them because - in his own words - he was a house servant and house servants are not allowed to keep personal weapons, but Vulcan explained that he crafted those weapons and he was not just going to be one of those house servants that remained at home all the time - he intended to go out and do what he could for his House Mistress and he would need his daggers in case he ran into any...problems. Mother Miranda knew that Vulcan would cause no threat to Donna and demanded Heisenberg return the daggers to their master; which he reluctantly did. After which, Miranda dismissed the meeting and the other lords returned to their lands.
"I'm guessing the room is to your liking?" Angie asked as she levitated to reach Vulcan's eye level. The tall man looked at the possessed doll with a smile.
"It's perfect for me. Thanks for asking, Angie." Vulcan said as he placed his travel back - something else Heisenberg took from him and tried to keep because of the leather and design - against one of the nightstands.
"You're a strange one, ya know? Any sane person who saw a living doll would have run away, screaming for the hills." Angie said with a tilt of her massive head. Vulcan chuckled at those words.
"I may not be a 'sane person' then. Besides, I've spent years looking for you two; there was no way I was going to run away after finding you again." Vulcan said before his gaze turned to the outfit on the bed. "Is this going to be my work outfit?" Vulcan said as he walked over to it.
"Yes. Donna never really expected to have a house servant but just in case she did - she had two outfits said, one for each gender." Angie explained.
"I'm grateful," Vulcan said as he reached out to the suit's upper, his fingers lightly grazing against the House's Crest - The Sun and the Moon. "Angie, do you know what time Donna usually takes her dinner?" Vulcan said, looking back to the doll.
"In an hour or two, I wouldn't try to make too much; it all kinda tastes the same to her." Angie explained.
"What do you mean?" Vulcan asked.
"All the food is just...bland; you know, kinda tasteless but very filling for her." Angie said.
"Oh - don't worry about that. I didn't survive as long as I did on bland food and I refuse to let my mistress eat another bland meal." Vulcan said with a smirk.
"What are you planning to do, Vulcan?" Angie said with a tilt of her head.
"Oh, that would ruin the surprise but I know that she will like it. I need to get to work and you'll know when I'm done with dinner." Vulcan said as he turned back to look at his uniform.
Angie tilted her head again before she left the room, closing the door behind her. Vulcan looked at the black uniform with a smile before he placed the shirt back on the bed and began to undress.
[After Vulcan Got Dressed]
Vulcan looked in the tall mirror with pride in his new uniform - the Beneviento Family Chest proudly resting over his heart. He left his room and walked down the hall, down the stairs until he reached the ground floor; from the tour of the house given by Angie - Vulcan found the kitchen.
The Amber-Eyed Man looked around - there were a few things out of place but that was no challenge. He opened the cabinets and fridge and looked around - there were a few assortments of meats and some grains.
'I can make meat with a bread...Hm...but I need something else to add to it. Does she have any kind of veggie here?' Vulcan wondered as he continued to look around and got lucky when he found some potatoes in a sack. 'Perfect.' The red-haired man smirked as he placed all the items - except for the meat - on a clear table and got cleaning: he washed the few dishes that rested in the sink, swept the floor, wiped down the table and counters, placed any kind of box that wasn't supposed to be out in the open and placed them in a lone closet - that he had the cleanout of cobwebs and dust. Once the kitchen was clean - he jogged back to his room and opened his backpack; digging inside until he found the small wooden box he was looking for and walked back downstairs.
[Around Half An Hour Later]
Donna and Angie were talking in Donna's room - the veiled woman sat on her bed with her hands in her lap as Angie stood on the bed at her creator's right side.
"Mom, you don't have to be so nervous." Angie said as she tried to cheer her mother up.
"It's hard not to be, Angie. I hadn't seen him in years and suddenly he shows up here - he's been looking for you and me for...goodness knows how long and..." She paused for a moment as she wrapped her arms around herself - mimicking Vulcan's hug, still feeling his warmth in her bones. "The way he hugged me - not even Mother Miranda held me like that when she adopted me. It was so...comforting." Donna said in a low voice.
"I'm curious - just what is he to you, Mom?" Angie asked with a head tilt.
"Vulcan...He was the only real person who cared for me, even with the scar. He would stand by my side when others would badmouth or turn away from me; he would hold my hand to keep me grounded when I thought I was going to slip in a sobbing fit. When I introduced him to you - he was just as interested in you as I was. We were like...our own little family." Angie could hear the smile on her mother's lips.
"You loved him, didn't you?" Angie asked.
"Yes, I did." Donna said.
"Do you still love him?" Angie asked.
"I...I believe that I do but it's been so long - I never knew if he felt the same for me and I don't know if he thinks of me as a possible partner for him. I know he cared to me but..." Donna stopped in midsentence when a heavenly scent hit her nose. "Do you smell that?" Donna asked as she rose to her feet and began following the smell.
Donna and Angie followed the smell down the stairs but the longer they descended - they noticed just how clean the house began to look: pictures were dusted and wiped down, the floors appeared to be swept, mopped, and polished, there was even a pleasant smell of pine. When they made it to the ground flood - they entered the dining room and saw the table was...decorated? There was a long black tablecloth on the rectangular table with a candle holder in the center of the table - 3 candles were lit with their flames dancing to their slow beats. On the ends of the table - there were plate mats; when...when did have time to do all this? Where did he get all these items from? Donna and Angie continued to ponder until the kitchen door opened - letting the heavenly smell flood the room - as Vulcan walked out with a serving platter held by his right hand and bottle of wine in his left hand, tucked under his arm.
"Oh, Lady Beneviento and Lady Angie, I was just about to get you both for dinner." Vulcan said as he placed the serving tray, covered by a silver lip, in the center of the table before then retreated to the kitchen and returned with 2 glasses and walked over to Donna. "Please, allow me, Lady Beneviento." Vulcan said as he grabbed Donna's chair and pulled it out, waiting for Donna to sit with a smile on his face. When Donna sat in the chair, he pushed it in for her before walking over to her right and pulled out another chair for Angie; the puppet giggled before taking a seat and was pushed in behind her mother.
"Did...Did you do all of this yourself, Vulcan?" Donna asked in a low voice.
"Of course, Lady Beneviento, as the servant of House Beneviento, I must ensure my ladies and house are taken care of." Vulcan said with a smile of pride - he was happy being the servant of House Beneviento?
"We smelled something incredible on our way down here; just what were you doing in the kitchen?" Angie asked.
"I was prepared dinner for Lady Beneviento. During my travels, I came into some very interesting spices and I did jobs to make sure I had the funds to purchase spices and recipes that I thought Lady Beneviento would love. I would like to think I did this once justice but I would love my lady to tell me if I did." Vulcan said as he moved over to the tray and lifted the tray cover off the food, revealing the tinder-looking steak with toppings of garlic and herbs on top of it with some kind of sauce, a side of mashed potatoes with butter - a touch of pepper with gravy on top, and two bread buns. The smell was enough to get Donna's mouth watering and Angie's - if she had organs to eat.
Vulcan lifted one of the plates and walked over to Donna before setting it down on the plate mat before her; her utensils already on the mat, ready for use. Placing the bottle on the table, he got one of the two glasses he retrieved from the kitchen and placed it near Donna on the mat before opening the bottle of grape wine and poured a good amount for his lady to enjoy with her food. He got his plate and went to his seat before he pours himself a bottle of wine and looked at Donna with a smile.
"Please, tell me what you think, Lady Beneviento." Vulcan's eyes shined with the hopefulness that she would love it. Donna lifted her knife and fork, stabbed the steak with the fork before severing the part she stabbed with her knife. She lifted the meat to her lips, making sure to move her veil as to not touch the meat with the cloth; she took her first bite before she let out a moan of pleasure (NOT THAT KIND, YA NASTIES!).
"This...This is delicious, Vulcan." Donna said as she moved to eat more.
"I'm glad you like it, Lady Beneviento. I have lots of recipes I'm sure you'll love." Vulcan said with a wide toothy smile.
"Enough. When we are here - in House Beneviento - or when I permit you, you are to call me Donna. None of that 'Lady Beneviento' business." Donna said - if her veil was off, Vulcan would have been able to see the light blush on her face.
"As you wish...Donna." Vulcan smiled again before he began to eat his food.
[End]
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sensecoast82 · 2 years
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