“Really, sir, you're a blight,” says the maid, now looking you up and down appraisingly. Her eyes stop at your boots. “And you're tracking blood. Disgusting.”
“I DRESS APPROPRIATELY WHEN VISITING PLACES CALLED THE FUCKING SCARLET DEVIL MANSION,
YOU HERETICAL TITMUFFIN.”
That appears to have been the EXACTLY PROPER choice of words to make her start attempting to lacerate you as she flings her arms out, and OH COME ON
, WHERE THE FUCK DID ALL THESE KNIVES COME FROM THAT'RE FLOATING BEHIND HER?
“Breaking and entering, assaulting the staff, shouting in the library, convincing people to turn traitor, swearing relentlessly, and insulting me with nonsensical phrases,” she rattles off, her knives rotating MENACINGLY. “That's six offenses already. I don't think anyone would mind if I-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
She blinks. “Excuse
“SO FAR, ALL I HAVE SEEN AROUND HERE ARE COWARDS, WEAKLINGS, AND BITCHES, AND YOU SEEMS TO FIT ALL THREE, THROWING PANSY SWARMS OF LITTLE KNIVES AT PEOPLE INSTEAD OF FIGHTING IN MELEE LIKE A PROPER WARRIOR. SO IT'S NOT REALLY THAT MUCH OF A STEP DOWN FROM EVERYWHERE ELSE I HAVE GONE BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I CAN HEARTILY SAY GO FUCK YOURSELF REGARDLESS.
“I-” she starts to protest, but you just KEEP GOING, PRANCING ABOUT in a FAGGOTY MANNER, flapping your arms like a TOTAL FOPPISH PRICK.
“'LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! I CAN THROW KNIVES AND SHOW OFF FINESSE AND BE HAUGHTY AND CONDE-FUCKIN-SCENDING. WOWEE, I'M SO SUPERIOR TO YOU PLEBS!'
” You stop with your exaggerated flopping about to thrust a finger at her. “HOW GODDAMN LOW CAN YOUR STANDARDS BE?”
Her icy exterior is cracking. “S-shut up!”
“NO. SUCK MY DICK. SUCK EVERY DICK I COULD EVER POSSIBLY HAVE. THIS IS THE WORST 'MANSION' I HAVE EVER HAD THE DISPLEASURE OF SEEING IN MY LIFE.”
The maid's arms are held tight to her sides, now, her face red with probably rage. “You wouldn't know anything about proper
aesthetics, you brute!”
You can't help laughing in the face of such idiocy, laying your hands on your stomach as you have yourself some chuckles. “OHO, HOHOHOHOHO, LET ME COUNT THE FUCKING WAYS THAT YOU ARE MISERABLY WRONG. YOUR MANSION IS BUT A SHITSTAIN COMPARED TO THE MAGNIFICENT ARCHITECTURE OF THE IMPERIUM OF MAN. WE HAVE GIANT DOOM-CATHEDRALS AND SKULL FORTRESS BATTLESHIPS, GODDAMN IT, AND YOU'RE ALL HOITY-TOITY PROUD OF YOUR SCARLET DEVIL MANSION
THAT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A SINGLE FUCKING SKULL AROUND THE PLACE! IT'S DISGRACEFUL.
She inhales sharply in outrage, eyes wide, pupils shrinking. “How dare-
“SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M NOT DONE. LOOK AROUND YOU.” You gesticulate appropriately at the surrounding GIANT LIBRARY. “OH, I'LL GRANT THAT YOU'VE GOT SIZE FOR DAYS IN THIS PLACE THROUGH WARP MAGIC OR SOME OTHER BULLSHIT – BUT WHAT DO YOU DO WITH IT? NOTHING.
NOT A FUCKING GODDAMNED THING – IT'S HUGE FOR THE SAKE OF BEING HUGE, INSTEAD OF HUGE FOR THE SAKE OF HOUSING OTHER COOL HUGE THINGS THAT AREN'T BOOKSHELVES.
NO PROPER GOTHIC DECORATIONS, NO ORNATE SIGILS OF THE IMPERIUM, NOT EVEN ANY HOLY WRITINGS LAID OUT ON THE WALLS FOR THE PLEBS TO READ. DO YOU EVEN RELIGION AT ALL?”
“AND IF THAT WEREN'T BAD ENOUGH, YOU CAN'T EVEN GET ANYTHING PROPERLY DONE IN THE OTHER DIRECTION! I'D EXPECT HERETICS LIKE YOURSELVES TO AT LEAST DO A GOOD JOB OF MAKING YOUR DEN OF INIQUITY LOOK PROPERLY MENACING, BUT YOU FAIL EVEN THERE!
THE MOST YOU PLAY TO THE SCARLET DEVIL THEME IS HAVING A LOT OF RED AROUND THE PLACE, BUT THAT'S HARDLY WORTH ANYTHING. WHAT KIND OF SHOW ARE YOU EVEN RUNNING HERE WHERE THAT'S ALL YOU HAVE TO OFFER? THE HERETICS I'M USED TO ARE DISGUSTING TRAITORS, BUT GODDAMMIT, AT LEAST THEY TEND TO HAVE PANACHE!
She's looking more and more stricken with every word out of your mouth. GOOD. You plant your hands on your hips. “BUT THIS? THIS IS JUST – IT'S BORING. YOU BORE
ME. THIS SHIT IS SO BLAND MY EYES GLAZE OVER WHENEVER I LOOK AROUND, BECAUSE ONCE YOU GET PAST THE INITIAL POP
OF EVERYTHING BEING SUPER-LARGE, NOTHING STANDS OUT.
” You lean towards her, lowering your voice for emphasis. “YOUR MANSION IS A FUCKING ABOMINATION IN THE EYES OF RIGHT-THINKING IMPERIAL DECORATORS EVERYWHERE, AND YOUR TASTE IS SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT.”
The maid sucks in a breath, trembling with fury, the wall of knives behind her shaking erratically.
Another breath. Her expression goes through a variety of micro-twitches as competing emotions FUCK EACH OTHER UP for the right to take proper command of the twat.
A third breath. She's goddamn HYPERVENTILATING.
“ARE YA GONNA FUCKING SAY SOMETHING OR WHAT?” you demand.
Her mouth hangs open. “I- you're- I-
“YOU- ME- YOU-”
Your bit of EXTRA MOCKERY is apparently enough to destroy the blockage stopping her from speaking. “I don't even get to pick the decorations I just put them up like Remilia wants me too and I thought they were looking really nice and so did everyone else but then you come here and yell at me about all of it and I'm just supposed to make sure everything's cleaaaaaahaaaaaaaahaaaaahaaaaaan!
Her legs buckle, and she drops to her knees, knife slipping from her grip as she hides her face in her hands, bawling like a LITTLE BABY against a backdrop of blades clattering against each other as they all fall onto the carpet.
WHAT THE FUCK.
You clap your fists around your head in total disbelief. “STOP CRYING. STOP. FUCK YOU. STOP CRYING. YOU DON'T GET TO CRY AFTER BEING A HAUGHTY BITCH. WHY IS EVERYONE I HAVE MET HERE SUCH A DISAPPOINTMENT?”
Your shouting only makes her CRY HARDER. “I SAID STOP IT. THIS IS DISGUSTING. HOW DARE YOU DISGRACE YOURSELF FURTHER.”
[X] GRAB HER ENTIRE FUCKING HEAD AND WORD-PUNCH SOME SENSE INTO HER
[X] LET'S SEE HOW FAR A PROPER PUNT CAN CARRY THIS PANSY BITCH, FOR YOU TIRE OF HER WHINING
[X] FUCKING IGNORE HER AND PULL THAT KNIFE OUT OF THE ALMOST-MINION, BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO TIME FOR LITTLE BABIES LIKE MISS KNIFE MAID HERE
I DON'T KNOW WHY I KEEP GETTING PICTURES LIKE THIS BUT HOL-EE SHIT AM I NOT COMPLAINING IN THE SLIGHTEST, YOU RADICAL DUDE