SystemFailure !VXxMHjK11Q 2010/01/20 (Wed) 03:33 No. 33917 “After the fall of the ‘Secret Library’, I made my way to Paris. I spent about ten years there, working in a small magic shop, unti—”
“Working? You, a member of the noble Scarlet family, working?!” Remilia, always concerned with how the family presented itself, looks indignant. You sigh.
“Yes, Remi, I lowered myself to the level of a commoner. I didn’t really have a choice— proclaiming my status to the world would have given me far too much trouble— and frankly, I didn’t really care. I had fun working there. Now, do you want to hear the story, or chew me out for not having proper vampiric pride?”
Your sister thinks this over for far longer than she should, and then sighs. “I’d like to hear the story, Wallachia.”
Nine hundred and twenty four. “Don’t call me that. Anyways, as I was saying, I was working there until one really bad night in…. March, I believe.”
As you talk, the events of that night replay in your head. You’d been dealing with obnoxious customers ever since your shift had begun, and you were cranky because you hadn’t gotten a chance to feed for a few days. Eventually, it had gotten to be too much, and when someone tapped you on the shoulder, asking some inane question about where some ingredient was, you’d whirled around and spread your wings, hoping to scare them off.
“The man who had sparked my temper was rugged, had a bandolier of very silver knives, a flask of what had to be holy water, and a whip coiled at his side,” You say, leaning back in your seat. “After that, we just stared at each other for a good few minutes, trying to process what had happened. Then I kicked him as hard as I could in the shin, dashed to my room, smashed the window apart, and hid under the bed.”
As expected, Remila and Flandre burst out laughing (even Sakuya looks as though she’s trying hard not to chuckle). “Seriously? Under the bed?”
Yes, you explained, under the bed. Almost immediately after you did so, the hunter burst into room, stood there for a moment, then ran out. You crawled out from under the bed, grabbed your meager belongings, and left the building, bidding farewell to a thoroughly confused owner. From there, you escaped into the sewers, where you hid for a few hours until you thought the coast was clear. But it wasn’t, and you had only gotten a few steps away from the sewer entrance before you once again found yourself face to face with the hunter.
“He wasn’t happy. He didn’t even start with the ‘scourge of the earth’ business— he just snarled something unintelligible and leapt at me.”
What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. It took all your meager fencing skill (you’d taken up lessons recently in order to properly use Tyrfing), wit, and liberal use of your ability to manipulate probability to fend off and eventually knock out your assailant. After that, you fed on the hunter (out of spite), carved a scathing message into a nearby wall with magic, and left Paris.
“Now then, enough about me,” You say. You don’t want to think about that encounter for too long. “I have a question for you.”
Remilia’s still giggling. “Yes, what is it?”
“Earlier, when I first got here,” you begin. “I passed through the portrait hall while going to meet you. I saw a rather interesting painting— one that doesn’t belong there. Are you still going around proclaiming yourself the descendant of Tepes?”
Your sister frowns and puffs out her cheeks. It’s kind of adorable. “Yes, I am. I don’t see what your problem with it is.”
You put a hand to your forehead. “Vlad Tepes was a tyrant who gruesomely executed and tortured thousands of people. As a vampire, I hold him in high regard, but not as a person.”
Remilia says nothing, opting to glare at you. You glare back for a moment, and then look away. Dammit, she always wins these contests.
“Well, then, it’s getting early,” You stand, and Remilia smirks triumphantly. You’ll get her one of these days. “I’m going to head back to the library for a bit before I go to bed.” You start to move off, but Flandre reaches across the table and grabs your shirt sleeve in a vice-like grip.
“Hey, don’t go, Wally! You said you’d play with me, remember?”
Oh dear. You did say that earlier. You glance nervously to the side. You love your sister, but her idea of ‘play’ tends to hurt very, very badly. Finally, you sigh.
“You’re right. Well, what do you want to play?”
[x] "Hide and Seek!"
[x] "Tag!"
[x] "House!"
[x] "Chess!"