Trinity Angles (Discussion Thread)

[Kieran]

Yeah as good as Shadow interactions would be it would only happen once. Might not even get that far since All they would need to do is catch Adachi and THAT they can get done in a week at most. Ultimately though I picked P3 instead of P4 since everyone and their mother is doing P4 stories that its over-saturated and I wanted higher stakes.

It makes sense - having had Britain on the line the last time, upping the stakes naturally means going for saving the entire world. Though if you really want to screw with them, at the time Galen started his journey, I'd never finished Persona 4 - the only reason I know how it plays out now is because I own the anime, but if the Trinity wound up there, they actually would have to investigate things . . .

I think I stopped playing the game before Rise was taken, or just before trying to rescue her, at the latest.

I'll need to start reading this series, if only that it's different from "FateProphecy Break".

I've glanced at that fic, and I can confidently say that it's very different - though whether or not it's better is another matter altogether . . .

In any case, while you're in for a long read (and I do recommend doing the prequels first), I hope you enjoy it. I, or any of the other readers, will be happy to answer any questions you have.

But I'm glad to see this scene somewhat inspired by recent Persona readings, like mine I assume.

Yes, and yours in particular.

A shame the same thing didn't happen to Chie, but if I'm reading this right, Galen had a lot of mental stress that DID try to kill him, just not physically in the same room. I really liked the snippet.

If you end up getting through "Trinity," you'll understand why he's so (relatively) well-adjusted - suffice it to say that it came at the cost of a lot of suffering.

Tsukiyomi's taken though. By Sho Minazuki in the new Persona 4 Arena game (just saying).

If we count those as canon, yes - but even then, Personae can vary from game to game, and the Moon, of all things, has many aspects. It's not impossible that the "same" Persona can have different manifestations.

. . . Then again, if it isn't Tsukuyomi, maybe his Persona ought to be Kaguya (Ultimate version Kaguya-hime). It was Tsukihime that got me into Type-Moon, after all . . .


EDIT: Blast it, I didn't realise that actually was a Persona, again - I just picked the other lunar-related Japanese myth I knew . . .

Actually I've noticed that there are a lot more P3 crossovers, at least with the Fate series. Part of the reason I wrote Fate/Reach Out was because I was honestly wondering why no one thought of what I wrote before. Maybe P4 is still larger than P3 in general (and P1 and P2) but that's something, right?

You make a good point.

[Rai Burnout]

P3 to me seemed like a more serious game then P4, the entire world enshrouded by fog seemed tacked on (the town yes, the world not so much). Plus Nyx is a much more serious threat then Izanami. They can go all out and still have a challenge. Plus, if you do P3 first, then you can do P4 as well in a possible sequel.

[Kieran]

Fair point - though they might be curb-stomping things in P4, unless TV World operates under different rules than Tartarus.

[Rai Burnout]

Fair point - though they might be curb-stomping things in P4, unless TV World operates under different rules than Tartarus.

Depends on how many come over and how far along they show up. Plus Shirou will try his hardest to convince the Team to let them handle it and no one will listen since they feel its their responsibility. Plus their idea of the perp means he has to be able to enter the Tv. Everyone who has a persona can enter the Tv. They would be very suspicious of the Trinity as one of them could be the killer.

[Kieran]

Depends on how many come over and how far along they show up. Plus Shirou will try his hardest to convince the Team to let them handle it and no one will listen since they feel its their responsibility. Plus their idea of the perp means he has to be able to enter the Tv. Everyone who has a persona can enter the Tv. They would be very suspicious of the Trinity as one of them could be the killer.

Fair points.

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .








Takara stared at her weapons.

The guns were, frankly, not her style at all, though she had the reflexes and the ingrained knowledge to use them. As when they'd first arrived on the Hogwarts Express, she'd had another set of memories - another life - to integrate her into her new existence. And the Umbra Witch who answered to the name Takara Aozaki was arguably the fastest and most agile of her people, bar none . . . That said, however, the guns just weren't her weapons of choice - but they were familiar, and not just because of her training in the Umbran Bullet Arts.

They were identical to the pistols Galen had used, times two - right down to the comedy and drama masks stamped on the handgrips. And they weren't the only familiar weapon in her hands. The katana strapped to her back was forged of Damascene steel, and engraved with runes - though that was where all similarities ended.The runes engraved on the blade were more ragged, as though they'd been carved in by claws - or as though the blade had bled after they'd been carved.

And whatever power was running through it, it was a lot less holy than lightning.

She swallowed. Her soul was bound to Hell on her death - no exceptions, chances of redemption, or anything of the kind. Oh, they called it "Inferno" here, but they didn't try to hide the fact, nevertheless. And more specifically, her soul was bound to a specific demon - and that, perhaps, was her only chance: if she could kill her contracting demon, maybe she'd be free . . .? It would be one hell of a fight (quite literally) especially since she wouldn't have her powers, but it was also her best, and maybe her only chance.

Takara had never done it before, but her counterpart's memories provided the ritual movements, the Enochian phrase tasting odd on her lips - but there was an odd sense of rightness as her hair flowed free, chestnut turning midnight blue as it reached into the abyss . . .

The vortex into Inferno opened like a bleeding wound in reality, darkness limned with red, echoing with the screams of the demonic and the damned. The hand that emerged to grip its edge was massive, but only in a sense of scale - long-fingered and elegant, it was unmistakeably a woman's; marble-pale, with sharpened nails that had been painted (or perhaps were naturally) a glossy black. In a single, swift movement, the hand's owner raised herself upwards, into full view.

Garbed in black robes that hid much of her figure, what was visible of the demoness indicated that she was lithe, with subtle musculature that displayed her power without detracting from her femininity. Pale blue symbols glowed faintly where they'd been etched on her alabaster skin, as though made of moonlight - symbols that reflected the runes on Takara's blade. Waves of blue-black hair cascaded past her shoulders, matching Takara's own, save for golden highlights that gleamed like fire in the portal's eldritch light - as did the highlights on the raven's wings which spread out from her back as she emerged.

The demoness' black lips parted in a faint smile, revealing ivory fangs - but it was a smile that didn't reach her crimson, catlike eyes. Instead, those were quietly sad, their inner luminescence dimming.

Takara gasped, even as her memories informed her that the demoness she was seeing was called "Morrigan" - because she knew her by another name entirely.

"Hermione . . .!"

[Ergast]

...Well, fuck!

[Kieran]

Yeah, that's pretty much Takara's reaction, too.

[Kieran]

Transylvanian Alps, Romania
Twenty years later







It was a beautiful moonlit night.

But then, the night of the Danse Macabre always was. The master of the lands assured it, as part of his obligations as a host - and why not? It was a once-a-generation gathering, after all, of all the immortals of consequence who walked the earth. Typically, this meant vampires; and moreover, vampires of nobility. The rare exception had been made, from time to time, however: for example, Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel had been honoured guests, despite their origins, until their untimely demises.

(Yes, the Flamels had been well over six and a half centuries old - but to an immortal, any death was considered "untimely," by definition.)

Regardless, it was rare for any non-vampires to attend, as there were few who could defend themselves against the crowds which gathered at the Danse. All attendees were assured safe passage to and from the fete, but their safety during it was assured only against outside threats - while violence was not encouraged, at the same time, vampires enjoyed nothing if not blood sports, after all.

As such, Hermione found herself trying very hard not to be noticed - a difficult feat, when she was one of the newest attendees, and thus, regarded as an interesting opportunity/fresh meat. She wished she'd been able to refuse the invitation outright, but the Ministry had insisted she appear, to maintain vampire relations. So, failing being able to not come, she wished she'd borrowed Galen's cloak for the occasion.

Then again, she reconsidered, if there was anyone liable to recognise the Deathcloak, they're probably in this castle . . .

Still, she'd learned the art of social invisibility as a child, and added practiced stealth techniques before she was ever a vampire - a being that was designed for stealth, in many ways. It took a determined effort, but she did eventually manage to extricate herself from the general crowd, and into relative anonymity -

Almost.

"Ah - you are the new one, yes?" Hermione repressed a sigh, and turned. The speaker was a tall young woman of her own seeming age, her voice tinted with a Germanic accent. Her alabaster skin looked even paler sheathed in the bloody crimson gown, and against the midnight-black of her straight hair.

The colour and sheen of it recalled Takara's hair to Hermione with a pang of longing. The Japanese witch, for all the progress with her vampire phobia, would not have come within a hundred miles of here, even for love of Hermione, save to raze it to the ground - but it didn't stop Hermione from wanting her here. And something of her feelings must have shown on her face, because the stranger's expression softened with an unexpected gentility.

"I resemble a lost love," she said quietly, not making it a question. "I know that expression too well not to know it. It is regrettable that one so young should already have learned this lesson, but it is an inescapable fact, my dear: all that we love dies. Best of all that they die for love of us, and we go on for their love. It is cruel, but it is the only thing we may do for their sacrifice. It has taken me many centuries - many lost loves - to learn this truth: that in the end, only we exist for one another for eternity. Only the love of a vampire will be yours forever."

The woman stepped closer, her movements languid, even as her dark eyes seemed vibrantly bright in the moonlight. Hermione felt warning bells go off in her mind, and made to move away - but found herself frozen.

Inwardly, she cursed at letting herself be caught off-guard, even as she realised what she was dealing with: an elder, one of the vampires who had survived centuries, with the strength and the will to match. Hermione's own nature gave her an edge, physically, against a common vampire, and her training did the same on a mental level; but it simply meant that, against an elder, she was dealing with someone at her own level, or beyond.

Prepared for it, she still might have been a match for the vampire woman - but caught by surprise, she found herself as frustratingly helpless as any mortal.

Perhaps sensing the girl's thoughts, the ancient huntress smiled, reaching out to caress Hermione's face. "And I have ever been a lover of beauty such as yours . . ."

"As am I, Mircalla."

The vampire woman froze at the growled words, as though an electric current had suddenly been run through her body - and perhaps it had. Certainly, her eyes seemed to spit sparks at the name. Hermione, on the other hand, found herself relaxing as control of her muscles returned to her. She knew that voice, and that tone - and while she'd never needed to fear either, her would-be accoster couldn't say the same . . .

"In fact," Galen continued fiercely, "I'm especially fond of it - and I don't share."

Hermione gazed at him for a moment - at his gleaming eyes and gilded form. He'd taken a dose of the Elixir, again - which would grant him the right to be here, under the ancient rules, but it would be troublesome to explain his presence to the Ministry if they learned of it. Not that the possibility had apparently stopped him, and she was tempted to blush. Some of his strangest gestures were also the sweetest . . .

"Höllenhund," the woman spat.

"Hellhound," Hermione translated mentally, and suppressed a smile. There was a certain rightness to the name, Galen's affinity for lightning - and the purified nature of his blood - notwithstanding. And the elder bitch seemed to note the latter as he drew closer, withdrawing in equal measure as Galen took her hand and pressed his lips to it.

"Apologies for my tardiness, milady," he said drily. "I do hope you weren't waiting long?"

Hermione smiled, allowing her fangs to show a little. If the bitch wanted to make this a dominance game, she'd play.

"True love is worth waiting an eternity for," she assured him, placing a kiss on the pulse point at his neck - a sign that she considered him hers. He reciprocated in kind.

The vampire elder's eyes narrowed, not missing the gesture or its significance, and she said coolly. "Faithful pets are to be admired, my dear - but even the Flamels died, in time."

"And Cerberus existed to ensure the dead remained where they belonged," Hermione retorted, just as coolly. "I suggest you steer clear, Elder - unless you want to find out how truly you've named him." Her words sparked a realisation, and she added sharply, "Countess Mircalla von Karnstein."

As before, the elder froze - it was an unfortunate weakness of her bloodline that she was bound, and therefore vulnerable to, her true name. And in the hands of a wizard with a flair for ancient magic, or a vampire who was also the most brilliant witch of her generation, that was a very dangerous thing. However much of that danger she truly realised, Hermione wasn't sure; but the vampiress was a survivor, and she knew when to withdraw from a battle she couldn't win.

"Another time," Mircalla said curtly, and left.

". . . And there will be, if we live long enough," Galen said grimly. He sighed. "And here I was, worried about leaving you alone with the Prince . . ."

Hermione smiled teasingly. "Oh, that's why you came, is it? You were jealous - worried he'd steal me away?"

"If he did that, Takara and I would blast this place into the furthest depths of Hell, just to make sure he wound up where he deserved," her wizard snarled. Hesitantly, he added in a quiet voice, "But that you might choose to leave . . ."

Hermione decided to repay honesty with honesty, silently admitting that, twisted though Mircalla's logic was, there was a point to it.

"He's compelling," she admitted. "And he understands my condition like no one else can - not another vampire, not even you."

His eyes darkened, but she gripped his chin and lifted it up, forcing him to lock eyes with her.

"But he's not you, or Takara - he's not my pride, not my family. I might be comfortable around him, I might even find him attractive - but if home is where the heart is, then my home is where you are. And not even eternity will change that."

She kissed his pulse point once more, to reiterate her point - and then snogged him thoroughly, to drive it home.

Reflecting on the amount of fun one could have when one kisser needed barely a third of the typical amount of air, and the other didn't need to breathe at all, Hermione murmured into his chest, "I'm glad you came."

"Takara would've, too," Galen replied lightly, "but somebody had to watch the kids."

She gave him a knowing look, and he returned it. Legilimency wasn't needed to read his thoughts, either.

She'd have hated every second of it, but she would have come - and if she'd walked in on that bitch and her stunt, the Countess wouldn't have walked away - her ashes would've blown away on the evening breeze.

Hermione admitted that that much was true. A lot had changed between them in twenty years - and a lot undoubtedly would change, in the years, decades, and possibly centuries to come - but that much had not: Takara would always come if she had to, no matter how much she hated it, because she did love Hermione. And the same applied to all of them, equally.

And knowing that, she relaxed into his embrace. Maybe their love wouldn't be eternal, but it was true - and that was better.

"Would you care to dance?" Hermione asked suddenly. "It is a beautiful night, after all."

"With you, my love? Always."








Writer's Notes: I recently found and marathoned "Carmilla" - a Canadian web series based on the original novella. I quite enjoyed it, and it got me wondering . . .

Obviously, the Countess has more in common with the original than the modern version - but I hope you enjoyed this, nevertheless.

[Kieran]

Writer's Note: Maybe it follows from here . . .? Or perhaps here . . .?









Waking up was interesting, mostly by virtue of the fact that he woke up at all. But when his consciousness became fully aware of what surrounded him, he upgraded that to being interesting in the ancient Chinese sense of the word.

After all, unless your name was something along the lines of "Arturia Pendragon" or "Shirou Emiya," it wasn't often you found yourself waking up in the middle of a summoning circle. Worse, his Occlumency helped him realise that it was a very familiar summoning circle . . .

Any further thought was interrupted by the slamming (open, in this case) of a door, drawing his attention to the presence of - Luna?! And a younger Luna, at that - she couldn't be more than fourteen!

"Oh goody," Luna said dreamily, "it worked."

He blinked, then blinked again as he got the Grail's information packet, finally (even magical technology hated him, apparently . . .) He was a Servant, as appropriate for a Holy Grail War, but with a lot of oddities about it. Twenty-eight Servants? Why in the world would someone . . .? Oh - a measure instituted after the first Blood War, to prevent losses on the same scale? Ritualised combat for control, rather than terrorist attacks - using the Goblet of Fire as a binding, and the prize . . .

Caliburn - and with it, magical rule of the British Isles. As for the Servants, a second chance - at their own lives, or new ones. Between the Arch, Time-Turners, and other items in the Department of Mysteries' purview, a lot was actually possible.

Inwardly, he shook his head - it was like someone had taken bits of "Fate/apocrypha" (and a bit of "Extra" too, if his information was right), mashed them together with the core material, and layered it onto a Harry Potter setting - sort of the reverse of his original existence. Outwardly, he noted that Luna showed no signs of recognition of him - and a quick glance assured him while the Grail had gone to some lengths to disguise him, he wasn't that different, particularly for her uncanny perceptiveness.

Wiry build, dark hair, really pale skin tone - no idea what colour my eyes are. I'm wearing a silver duster - with a hood. Interesting . . . Ah, so that's why. Some kind of pendant around my neck - oh. Interesting - and as for weapons . . .?

He chuckled mentally. Even without the big guns (and he chuckled at the choice of expression, under the circumstances), this could be fun . . .

Finally, he stood, aware that he should make a good impression - and because there was a ritual he really ought to observe.

"In response to a heartfelt summons, I have come forth. I am Servant Rider of Blue" - Really? I'd have bet on Berserker, Archer or Caster, in that order - "and I ask of you: are you my Master?"








Additional Writer's Notes: Originally, Galen's Master was going to be Takara again, or a living (maybe canon?) Hermione . . . But on reflection, I thought Luna would be the one most likely.

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

Yikes no matter where you start, the implications are scary... The catalysts, one being manifesting Unlimited Blade Works in a world that doesn't seem to have any forces that operate on the level of Alaya or Gaia in the HPverse. The other being The Philosopher's Stone. The latter seems less likely now that I think about it considering she has nothing to do with the world Galen, etc came from save for being associated in later years after the arrival. You'd need more of a back story if you want the first option you considered continuing it from to work.

Rider of Blue though? Fifth magic?

[Kieran]

Yikes no matter where you start, the implications are scary...

That's OK - I'm glad somebody noticed these, even if you're skipping the prior one.

The catalysts, one being manifesting Unlimited Blade Works in a world that doesn't seem to have any forces that operate on the level of Alaya or Gaia in the HPverse.

Well, as noted, this is sort of the reverse of where the Trinity ended up: instead of being Type-Moon characters adapted to the HPverse, this is a realm where the Potter characters are born as Type-Moon magi - or closer to them than conventional wizards, anyway. As with "Trinity," there's some overlap.

. . . Of course, that makes the first Blood War that much more devastating, really - when you consider that Harry's year, in terms of students, should be about three times larger than it was, the corresponding loss of lives and lineages was really horrific. Hence, instituting this "battle royale" tournament, instead of open conflict - in theory, it's supposed to minimise the casualties. And since they're fighting for Caliburn, the Church isn't really involved.

The other being The Philosopher's Stone. The latter seems less likely now that I think about it considering she has nothing to do with the world Galen, etc came from save for being associated in later years after the arrival. You'd need more of a back story if you want the first option you considered continuing it from to work.

True. Although, you've made an interesting observation - care to guess what Rider's pendant is . . .?

Rider of Blue though? Fifth magic?

"Blue" as in faction (Ravenclaw) - and just to avoid confusion with a certain other "Red Saber," and a certain "Saber of Red" (), the Gryffindor faction was going to be "Scarlet." Then again, I might make it "Rider of Sapphire," to correspond to the gems that count as points - which would make the others Citrine, Emerald, and Ruby.

[Funderfullness]

Well now I'm just going to drive myself crazy trying to figure out what Rider!Galen rides.

And you got me to watch Carmilla into the wee hours of the morning. Thanks, I guess.

[Kieran]

Well now I'm just going to drive myself crazy trying to figure out what Rider!Galen rides.

Figure out what he and Luna have in common, and you'll probably get it quickly enough - it's likely she used something connected with it as a catalyst, albeit unknowingly, which is why he was summoned as a Rider. As a hint, think about the (canon) book/movie that Luna is introduced in.

And you got me to watch Carmilla into the wee hours of the morning. Thanks, I guess.

You didn't enjoy it? Or you're just annoyed you stayed up that late?

[Funderfullness]

Ah yes, Threstrals. It was either that or Buckbeak.

And no, I enjoyed Carmilla immensely. I just underestimated how long it would take because the episodes are quite short.

[Kieran]

Ah yes, Threstrals. It was either that or Buckbeak.

Yeah - but with a Deathly Hallow at his command, I thought the Thestrals made more sense (and, as noted, it was one connection that might allow Luna, in particular, to summon him).

And no, I enjoyed Carmilla immensely.

Oh, good - of the people I've recommended it to so far, only two (you're three) have watched, and opinions are split (though even my friend who gave up mainly did so because it was too slow for his taste).

Nevertheless, I'd have hated to think I wasted your time.

I just underestimated how long it would take because the episodes are quite short.

*Chuckles* It is easy to lose track of time, watching it, isn't it?

. . . Oh, and while I think of it - you did catch the Christmas special, right?

[Funderfullness]

I did, yes. "A holiday where you can't kill people is a stupid holiday."

[Kieran]

I prefer:

"Um, Carm? A little help?"

"Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to spoil your holiday fun - "

"Evil Christmas lady trying to eat me -"

" - what with all my inappropriate mayor-biting, and talk about murdering people for Christmas - "

"MURDER HER FOR CHRISTMAS! MURDER HER FOR CHRISTMAS!"



. . . I still laugh every time I think of that - so you can see why I had to be sure you hadn't missed it.

[Kieran]

Continuing . . .








Hermione had always had a better eye for detail than Galen, which he would cheerfully admit. And as such, she paused, and reconsidered what she'd seen.

Galen was a hybrid - there was no question of that - but his form was more bestial than Michael Corvin's, more closely resembling that of the doctor from the fourth film, which meant . . .

"You're a Lycan-Corvinus Strain hybrid," she breathed. Somehow, the translation between worlds had granted Galen the same genetic traits as a Lycan melded with those of the first immortal, Alexander Corvinus. Which meant, in essence, that he was a Lycan on steroids: heightened physical capabilities, regeneration, and a limited immunity to silver.

. . . And it also meant that Lucian would do almost anything to get his hands on Galen. With the genetic scientists he had available, he could extract the hybrid strain, and probably combine it with the vampire version of the virus, as he'd originally planned to do - but even without that, the pure Corvinus strain would represent a major step up in the lycans' offensive capabilities. Maybe high enough to end the war entirely.

A brief twinge from Hermione's native self - the one that was part of the coven - panicked over the concept. The rest of her was panicked over the idea that her boyfriend would be Target #1 for both sides. The lycans would do anything to get him, and the vampires would do anything to eliminate him.

". . . I need to bite you," she said at last. "You'll need the last piece of the puzzle, if you're going to have a decent chance to survive - and it's not like you could really be a bigger target . . ."

A vampire-lycan hybrid had proved capable of matching the second-oldest vampire in combat immediately after his first transformation. A vampire-Corvinus hybrid had been able to fight on an equal level with the progenitor of all vampires, who'd become a hybrid himself. And when the three strains of immortality were combined, the potential power . . . Well, it hadn't really been imagined yet. The only known tri-blood hybrid was still a child - but she'd proven the equal of the kind of creature Galen was right now.

Hermione bared her fangs, and moved forward - only to be stopped by his hand on her throat. Startled, Hermione stared at him, wide-eyed, as he pushed her back to gaze at her face.

". . . From the look of your eyes, we need to bite each other," Galen corrected. "And then we need to find Takara, and get the hell out of here."

Hermione blinked, then realised what he was saying. She wasn't just a vampire, she was a vampire-Corvinus hybrid? Why would that - ?

". . . The Philosopher's Stone," she murmured in sudden realisation. "Its purification abilities - this is how they were translated."

"It makes sense, I guess," Galen agreed. "Let's hope that Takara's luck and natural potential translated, as well."

Hermione blinked.

"Because the bites of vampires and werewolves are lethal to most humans," he reminded her, "and I don't think she'll be satisfied with being our 'token human.'"

Hermione blinked again, as she absorbed the implications. In this world, she could share the benefits of what she was with Takara, without forcing her to become everything she feared and hated - because she was a species of vampire that wasn't undead; a species that could have children . . .

And by becoming hybrids, they would share with Galen, as well, and share everything he was, as well - the three of them against the world.

The thought made her smile. This world might be without magic, but it wasn't so different, after all.

"First things first," Hermione said primly, although the mischievous light dancing in her eyes belied her tone - and her next words spoiled it altogether.

"And this will be a first - you biting me . . ."

[Kieran]

August 4, 1996






The huntress crept forward silently, eyes focussed on her prey. The great beast was far larger, and sharp of hearing - one mistake would be her downfall . . .

. . . And yet, no matter how closely she approached, it remained asleep, unaware of its impending doom.

The huntress drew closer, measuring the distance carefully. She was lucky so far, but the potential risk was still high; she would only get one chance at this.

The sleek predator tensed, coiling steely muscles, and sprang forward with a mighty leap, pouncing on her prey!

With a cry of panic, the beast wakened to its danger - too late. As it squealed ineffectually for mercy, she savaged its throat, burrowing deep within the softest tissue -

And a pair of giant hands seized her and pulled her away.

Mirai let out a cry - half peevish, half plaintive - her legs waggling ineffectually in the air as she was raised up to stare into a pair of sleep-befuddled eyes.

"Sorry, Mirai-chan," Galen murmured, "I love your kisses, but they tickle. If you kept doing that, I was going to start thrashing - and you could've been hurt." His tone turned sad. "I don't want to hurt you . . ."

Her eyes narrowed, before she finally went still, with a conciliatory meow. That was a good enough reason to interrupt her fun.

With a smile, her cuddle-toy set her down on his chest again, his head tilting to keep looking at her.

"Hi, precious," he whispered breathily. "What brings you here? Are you hungry? Lonesome? Or just bored?"

Mirai's tail twitched as she considered it, before she finally answered.

"A little of all three, huh?" He smiled, and picked her up again. "Well, OK, then. Let's go see what I can do about getting you some breakfast - it's a lot easier to fix being lonesome and bored when your tummy's not growling at you."

He set her on the floor before sliding off the bed, and she raced to the doorway, pausing only to look back and make sure he was following.

It was so nice to have such a clever servant. He didn't always smell or taste very good, but he understood her. Keeping him was one of her best decisions ever - now, if only she could figure out how to get him to stay with her witch, rather than going away all the time . . .