After AnimeCon: Campfire Conversation (Patreon)

    “You were right,” Christine said, locking eyes with Stephanie. “I’m sorry. I didn’t believe you, about the magic stuff. Made fun of you, back in that hallway at the hotel. So—I’m sorry. You were right.”

    Stephanie regarded Christine from Brian’s lap with a wary expression before replying.

    “It’s okay. I uh, I do realize how unbelievable it must have sounded,” Stephanie said. “I forgive you for that. Even back then, it was—I could feel your head was like twisted broken shards. I can’t imagine how you even functioned.”

    “It felt like I was driven by revenge,” Christine said in a soft tone. “Paranoia, maybe. I, I was so angry. The whys or hows didn’t matter, so long as I could take it out on someone else. Take everything out on someone.”

    “Stephanie thought you might have been bipolar,” Brian murmured, hugging Stephanie close. “She said maybe the magic—I don’t know, fixes that, or something.”

    “Maybe,” Christine gave them a weak shrug. “I don’t know, and—and I can’t make excuses. I really can’t. I can’t just say I was blinded by rage for years, because, because that’s not how ‘rage’ works. What was wrong with me wasn’t something that built up or vented out. It was just… there. Permeating everything. Twisting everything. That’s not an excuse—I know everything I did, I’m still at fault for. I, just. I don’t know what to say, I don’t have any real defense.

    “Something was wrong with me,” Christine summed it all up with that, squeezing her eyes closed before tears could appear.

    Because, how could she have the gall to put what she had done in such simple terms. They deserved an explanation, but she didn’t have one to offer. They deserved the truth, they deserved to know what was really going on, but Christine didn’t understand it herself. Not having concrete answers for them felt like such a cop out, especially after the devastating and repeated personal attacks on them. Personal attacks performed by her, out of sheer malice, sheer malice that right now she couldn’t comprehend the origin of or track the progression of or pinpoint a reason.

    “Okay,” Brian surprised her by simply accepting it. “I guess I’m not surprised. You were too close to the problem, and yeah, at the time not too… driven to circumspection. There were easier outlets for blame, you could just point fingers elsewhere. You never had to stop and think about why you were doing what you were doing. But… Chloe, we do need you to do that now, because otherwise I, I—I don’t know how the fuck to help you.”

    “I dated you because your name is Brian,” Christine blurted out, and a wave of humiliation roiled through her on acrid tongues of silver. “I, uh, no—there were a lot of reasons, but I mean, that was one of them. A big one.”

    “Because my name is Brian?” Brian repeated back to her with a flat stare.

    “Uhh, yeah,” Christine said. “My, I don’t call him that, but that’s my dad’s name. Also Bryan. Just, uh, he’s, his is spelled with a ‘Y’ instead of an ‘I,’ I guess.”

    “I—” Brian hesitated. “I guess that begs the question—why was that a factor? Like, I, uh, I honestly don’t think I could ever date a Judy. Even if she was somewhat my type, I just don’t think I could do it, if someone had the same name as my mother. It’d be… real weird, right?”

    “Chloe—what was your father like?” Rebecca asked. “Was he…?”

    “He, h-he was, he’s a—” Christine felt her throat close up in a panic and didn’t know how to reveal this. “Bad, he was—he was bad, terrible, a sexist, a womanizer. He—the things he did, my mother, my um, there was the secretary, I saw them, and—”

    “Okay, okay,” Brian waved her attempt at an explanation away. “I guess… I guess I had heard bits and pieces of that over the years, but just never really put it all together into… into the context of how you were treating me.”

    “I’m sorry,” Christine cried. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

    “What’d we miss?” Kelly demanded, dragging Emily forward from the direction of the tents to join them around the fire. “Are we starting?”

    “Same old clusterfuck,” Brian sighed. “You feeling better?”

    “Better enough,” Kelly said. “You?”

    “He’s a little better,” Stephanie said, refusing to relinquish her position sitting on Brian’s thigh.

    “Then, for starters; Chloe is gone,” Brian said, looking around to each of the girls. “Or, the Chloe as we knew her is going to be gone. Whether we call her Christine now, or keep calling her Chloe, I guess that’s up to her.”

    “I-it doesn’t matter to me,” Christine shook her head.

    “So, what do we do with her?” Emily made a face. “She’s not all the way turned, yet.”

    “She needs to be all the way silver,” Kelly said. “That’s non-negotiable. We didn’t go through all of that to keep taking chances or making stupid mistakes.”

    “Yeah, probably,” Brian gave them a sober nod. “Chloe? Your thoughts on that?”

    “You should,” Christine responded. “Please. It—it makes me feel crazy, not being the whole way fixed.”

    “‘Fixed,’ yeah,” Brian scowled. “Don’t like all the implications there, but…”

    “It needs to be done, please,” Christine insisted. “Please. It’s not brainwashing, or it is, but not how you think. It is scouring away some of the, the—way that I was. I don’t know how to put that into words. But, ah, even just realizing what a psychopath I’ve been, being able to look at it from a normal perspective instead of—instead of—”

    “She means it,” Stephanie told Brian.

    “Settles that, then,” Emily made the motion of dusting off her hands. “So, after we chrome her all silver, then fucking what? Like, what do we actually do with her?”

    “Then, you can each go your separate ways?” Rebecca suggested with a wince. “I think some time apart could—”

    “No,” Kelly shook her head. “That’s stupid and taking chances. Sorry, there’s no way to sugarcoat it; full silver or not, Chloe is staying under our thumb until we have some solid guarantees that we’ve dicked all the crazy out of her.”

    “Ugh,” Emily scowled.

    “I need to make up for everything I’ve done,” Christine gave them a small shrug. “Whatever that winds up meaning.”

    “I do agree with that,” Stephanie tried to sound supportive. “Th-that’s something Brian needs, too. It will help.”

    “So, what are we doing?” Emily asked.

    “Then, for Chloe—ten years as Brian’s personal slave,” Kelly proposed.

    “Very funny,” Brian shook his head. “No, not a chance.”

    “I don’t expect that to be what we decide on in the end, but that is going to be our starting point,” Kelly surprised them with how firm she was on that as she raised her voice.

    “Because, you’re going to err towards leniency—to the detriment of yourself and everyone around you. Do you think we’re going to be satisfied if you just let Chloe off scot-free, or with just a slap on the fucking wrist? Any of us? No. No, Brian. Hell fucking no. Look into Emily’s eyes, and say you’re going to basically just let Chloe off—yeah? See? See how that goes. This is going to be a group decision as we all figure out what works best, and the initial proposal is; ten years as a slave.”

    “Hooo-boy,” Rebecca muttered under her breath.

    “No, just—no,” Brian refused. “No, we’re not doing fucking slavery, I don’t want a slave, nor do I think people should fucking own other human beings. That crosses the line.”

    “Then negotiate,” Kelly snapped. “What’s your counter offer, if slavery is too much?”

    “I—I don’t fucking know, but not slavery, Jesus, Kelly,” Brian groaned. “Please tell me that was a joke.”

    “What would the slavery entail,” Emily scowled. “Because—like, Brian doesn’t need a slave. For anything, if you think about it.”

    “Five years?” Christine suggested in a meek voice. “I, I could be his slave for five years. That seems fair to me.”

    “No, just—no,” Brian said. “Negotiations are off, if—”

    “Fine then, how about five years of service,” Kelly rolled her eyes. “She can retain whatever certain personal rights and liberties, but she owes us five years of work, with like, I don’t know, the work being determined as whatever, whatever reasonable hours of labor or effort?”

    “I can do that,” Christine nodded. “That’s not a problem at all.”

    “So, we’re agreed?” Emily asked. “Sold. That was easy.”

    “No,” Brian shot them down. “Even that’s just absurd. How about—six months. Three months.”

    “One year,” Stephanie countered.

    “Two years,” Christine spoke up.

    “Two years is a good compromise,” Kelly turned towards Brian. “What do you think?”

    “Chloe, you’re—” Brian seemed at a loss. “You shouldn’t be fighting for more time.”

    “That’s why this is a negotiation,” Stephanie said in a small voice. “This isn’t completely a punishment—all of us feel that Chloe has done wrong, and needs to make up for it. Even Chloe. She’ll want to balance out the weight of guilt with, with something. Something tangible.”

    “That’s not fair, though, because she’s not really Chloe anymore, exactly,” Brian argued. “If she’s Christine rather than Chloe now, how responsible should she be for what all Chloe did?”

    “But then, in that case, Brian, she still needs to pay you back for curing her psychosis,” Emily said. “Because—that was something you did, and that came with a steep personal cost.”

    “Well, yes and no,” Brian frowned. “That was done out of self interest, so—I mean, we did that to avoid Chloe coming back to haunt us or going off to the Masters.”

    “I’m not two people,” Christine said. “I don’t have a split personality. I was Chloe, and I still am Chloe. I remember it all clearly. Everything. I was driven by this, this insane hatred, and you took that insanity away, and I owe you a debt for that, as well as needing to atone for everything I’ve done to you. I want to, I need to make amends in some substantial way, to, to have something in front of me that I can work at and feel like—like I’m doing it for that reason.”

    “Let’s… back up for a moment,” Rebecca proposed. “What would this service entail? What would she be doing? Chores, cooking, cleaning? Working a job and turning over the wages? What would her responsibilities be, and, uh, I guess more importantly, what would her responsibilities not be?”

    “Well, she can’t have sex with Brian,” Emily said. “That’d be—uhh, that’d be like a conflict of interests. Right? Back me up, here. It’s like if Brian is in a position of power over her, it’s not appropriate for him to ever take advantage of her in that way. So; we can just get down in writing that that can’t happen.”

    “That makes sense,” Brian agreed. “Yeah.”

    “Except no, it doesn’t,” Kelly laughed. “Brian may be required to be intimate with Chloe as part of her… ongoing rehabilitation.”

    “No, he doesn’t have to have anything to do with her,” Emily scowled. “If she needs magic infusions, she can take it from a fucking jar. I volunteer to collect and distribute any necessary ‘rehabilitative essences’ to her.”

    “Might not be how the magic works,” Kelly shrugged. “It’s the love path. Charm magic. They may need to be personally exchanging feelings of some kind, Emmie. That’s already been a big hurdle. Why do you think it was so crazy difficult and cost Brian so much magic for just her first kiss?”

    “I don’t know, and I don’t care,” Emily fumed. “If she can’t get by with sloppy seconds from a jar, I say we should just kill her. I mean, hey. Grave’s still open!”

    “Emily, hush,” Rebecca scolded.

    “I don’t like it either,” Stephanie spoke up. “But, I would rather Brian was intimate with Chloe as necessary, rather than her… going back to the way she was.”

    “Firmly against,” Emily folded her arms in front of her and made a disgusted face. “My vote’s just no. If her defiling my perfect Brian is part of the deal, then, we should go all the way back to her being a slave for ten years. Like, the works; cage, collar, chains and shackles. Beatings.”

    “Emily, stop,” Brian gave her a stern look. “We get it, okay? You don’t like her. Great. Thanks. This is difficult for all of us, though, and you being like this just isn’t helping.”

    “I know,” Emily said with a pout. “Fuck, I know. Sorry. I’m really sorry.”

    “Chloe?” Kelly asked. “Are you cool with that? Because, yeah, I hate to say it, but sex or something along those lines might just have to be part of it. To keep you on the charm path of magic. Are you feeling attraction or arousal? Strange sexual thoughts, ever since Brian kissed you back there?”

    “I… no, I don’t think so,” Christine shook her head.

    “No?” Stephanie stared.

    “Wait, really?” Kelly seemed a little stunned as well. “What? Because… that could be a problem.”

    “Were you, uh, what’s the word—asexual, before?” Rebecca asked. “Because, that would make sense. If those interests or um, sex drive just never really—”

    “No, I’m heterosexual,” Christine said. “I’ve definitely had uh, desires and all that in the past. Just, I don’t feel any different after the kiss.”

     “Uhhh, then time out,” Kelly held up her hands. “We have a big problem, then. Because that means something isn’t working correctly.”

    “Nah, it makes sense,” Emily sniffed. “If you think about it.”

   “Should we have her drink from the jar?” Stephanie asked. “So that we can see?”

    “Chloe, like, right now—do you find Brian attractive?” Kelly inquired. “Looking at him, is he your type? Do you feel anything? Fuck, marry, kill? Do you look at him and have a would or wouldn’t reaction? Would you bone, yes or no?”

    “No, guys, think about it,” Emily insisted.

    “I-I don’t know,” Christine stammered. “I, uh, I really don’t know?”

    “Fucking listen to me,” Emily clapped her hands to get their attention. “We’re all just assuming that she is on the love magic path. That’s an assumption. It might not be as simple as blood equals vampire and kiss equals harem. But, look—if Brian didn’t feel attraction to her in the first place, and Chloe back at that point obviously was just a ball of rage and hate, maybe that just isn’t compatible with the charm path, still. Think about it.”

    “She does have silver in her hair, though,” Stephanie pointed out. “What does that mean?”

    “No clue,” Emily gave them a mighty shrug, holding out her hands. “But, if she’s not feeling it—then we can’t really consider it like it’s the charm path like we thought. That was just an assumption. Right?”

    “It did take a weird amount of energy and effort to even get her just those little streaks,” Kelly frowned, tapping her lip with her thumb. “Hmm. This could be bad.”

    “Bad? Bad how?” Rebecca asked.

    “If we really are breaking new ground here and uh, discovering things, then we’re like, a pioneering timeline,” Kelly said. “Which means like a drop off, there’s way less Send help we’ll get from nearby alternate versions of us, ‘cause we’re veering off into a new branch out away from the rest of them.”

    “Wait, what?” Brian’s brows furrowed. “Uhh, hold up. Can you explain how—”

    “No!” Emily stamped her foot. “No, no, no more timeline explanations, we’ve been over it all a thousand times, it’s never going to make sense, and if you want to catch up to where we are on that, you wait ‘til we’re back home and you can look at the chart I drew up on the white board.”

    “Before we um, digress into anything else,” Rebecca interrupted. “Is there any way we can test to see what path she might be on?”

    “The dreamscape,” Stephanie said. “But… the only one of us who was able to, um, interpret that coherently was you, Rebecca.”

    “So, we pull Rebecca back in,” Emily nodded. “Was gonna happen anyways, might as well—”

    “I, um, I was hoping we could all talk about that,” Rebecca fidgeted. “Both, as a group, and um, and individually as well! I am interested in joining, or um—rejoining, as it were, hahh, but I don’t think it should be tonight, and I’d just like to be able to talk about it with everyone first, so that I’m not stepping on toes or, or trivializing what anyone may be feeling, or, or anything! I would like it to be special, if having me be a part of this does wind up being something everyone is okay with.”

    “You mentioned the dreamscape,” Kelly said. “We can also access that, somewhat. Right? Just, it’s not as clear or easy to understand as it was for Rebecca. Steph?”

    “I… can, a little,” Stephanie admitted. “As an um, as an extension of the empathy? Somewhat? When I touch foreheads with someone and, and push, I can perceive a little bit of the dreamscape.”

    “I’ve gotten bits and pieces of it,” Emily said. “Mostly when I’m uh, when things are getting super hot and heavy and my awareness of… reality? Gets a little… sloshy.”

    “Sloshy?” Brian chuckled.

    “Yeah… I think that’s the best way to describe it,” Emily winced. “But, there’s no way in hell I’m getting sloshy with Chloe. Just thinking about it gives me a serious case of the dry cooch. Cottonmouth? Cottonmouth cooch. Whatever it is that’s the exact opposite of turned on.”

    “Turned off?” Rebecca offered.

    “Yeah, that.”

    “We get it, we get it,” Kelly rolled her eyes. “I actually think I have the poorest access to the dreamscape. I think I only have a strong awareness of it tapping in through Stephanie, like when she’s doing her mind meld thing on me.”

    “I’ve, yeah, I’ve only ever felt the dreamscape during weird really personal moments,” Brian said. “Sometimes during sex. Sometimes just—I don’t know, randomly.”

    “So, Steph, can you do it?” Kelly asked. “Can you try to feel Chloe through the dreamscape?”

    “I can feel her already,” Stephanie said. “She’s, she’s not like she was before. She was like a mirror before, when she was on the blood magic path. Now, now it’s a little like that, but it’s also not the same. Or—or, now she has us on the other side of the mirror with her.”

    “On the other side of the—” Kelly paused. “So, she isn’t blocking your magic? She’s not putting out a no-sell zone all around her? Because that was useful.”

    “She is, maybe,” Stephanie worked her lip as she tried to determine how to explain. “But—I feel that maybe it doesn’t apply to us, fully? I think that either her, um, her power is incomplete still, because she just has silver streaks and not full silver, or—or maybe because she’s on our same path, we’ll have a partial exemption from the effects? I really don’t know. She feels like a mirror, but it’s hazy. More like a smudge of reflection that you can see through, instead of a, um, a solid reflection.”

    “Okay,” Kelly said, taking time to look around at each of them as they processed that. “Then… I don’t know. She’d better be on our same path or like, path-adjacent enough for our methods to work, or all of this is a bust.”

    “Kissing her did something,” Stephanie pointed out. “It just… it just took more work than it should have with a normal person.”

    “Either way, if you’re talking about having her in indentured servitude for some time,” Rebecca took back the reins of the conversation. “What does that entail? I think we need to work out specifics, and make sure all of that clear and acceptable.”

    “She could get a job?” Stephanie suggested. “Work a job somewhere, and, um, help support our group with the money from that for a while—for however long we decide she should. A year?”

    “I have sixty-three thousand dollars,” Christine said. “In my account.”

    There was a long moment of shocked silence at hearing that, with only the campfire crackling and popping.

    “Wait—what?” Brian asked.

    “Jesus Christ,” Emily made a face. “All from—?”

    “From, uh, from my dad, mostly,” Christine explained. “I did work, for a little while, during my freshman year of college. I saved maybe… seven thousand or so, from that. The rest was just—many many months of my dad believing he was covering rent and bills and food and some spending money for two people. Uh, when in reality, he wasn’t. It was all just going into my account, and sitting there.”

    “Okay, yeah, we take all of that for starters—” Kelly began.

    “No,” Brian shook his head. “No, none of that’s our money, either. We, I guess at some point, Chloe and I will go visit her dad, and explain, and—give all of that back. That’s not our money.”

    “Okay,” Christine nodded with a numb look, staring into the fire.

    “What a weird fuckin’ take,” Emily murmured. “Why does Brian saying stuff like that turn me on?”

    “Then—do we want Chloe working and then we have more money, or do we want her close and doing stuff around the house?” Kelly asked. “Because, I’m working part time, and cool with that. Steph’s doing part time. What do we want Chloe actually doing?” 

    “House maid, or hand maid or something,” Emily snorted. “We can get her a sleazy outfit.”

    “Whatever Brian thinks is fair,” Christine said in a quiet voice. “I can be your maid.”

    “So—laundry, cleaning, cooking, running errands?” Rebecca clarified. “I… actually think that’s okay, within reason. So long as it’s not digging ditches, or paving asphalt, or anything too, um, you know—heavy labor. I don’t think it’s okay for her to be doing anything too demeaning, either. No sending her down into septic tanks, no bondage or humiliation play or naked furniture—”

    “I don’t think that’s an issue,” Brian let out a wry chuckle. “I mean. I’m, yeah, I am honestly hurt by everything that’s happened, that was rough. But, I don’t think I have a vendetta, or feel a mean streak or anything. I don’t feel… spiteful about it, really. I mostly just—I guess I mostly just need some time. To uh, to figure all this out, maybe heal some sore spots over, before I can really meaningfully try to move a relationship with Chloe back to what it was, or uh, to move forwards past that.”

    Christine looked up at him when he said that and her lips parted as if she was about to say something, but the moment hung in the air and she returned her gaze to the fire when Brian looked back in her direction.

    “That’s that, then?” Kelly looked around to gauge everyone’s expressions. “We’ll have her be our maid for a year? Sexy uniform and everything?”

    “Brian’s maid,” Emily corrected. “And—two years.”

    “Two years,” Christine nodded. “I think it should be two years. At least.”

    “Whoa whoa whoa,” Brian held up his hands. “Let’s try a month, and then like—at the end of that, we discuss again and see if that arrangement is working out with everyone, or if we should try something else.”

    “So—two years, with a performance evaluation one month from now,” Emily decided. “Because like, hey—she probably sucks ass at cooking and cleaning to begin with. Might be better just to have her work retail. Or better yet, just put her in a cage, have her do the total submissive slave thing for—”

    “Emily,” Brian warned.

    “Sorry,” Emily huffed. “Sorry. Shutting up. Yep. Sorry.”

    “I’m not sure how that will work,” Rebecca admitted. “It’s, um. It would be extremely unusual for the friends in Seneca to uh, to see that Brian has hired his ex-girlfriend to be a regular cleaning lady? If that’s how we’re going to say things are?”

    “Hey, I don’t like it either,” Emily retorted. “At least if we can put her in a skimpy maid outfit, it clearly like, shows the servant and master relationship. Illustrates that difference in status, that she’s beneath him, and has to bow her head and do his bidding and all that. Call him Master.”

    “Yeaaah, see—now you’re fetishizing it,” Rebecca winced. “Which goes back towards being a demeaning punishment!”

    “It should be at least a little demeaning,” Emily argued. “Right?”

    “I’m okay with it,” Christine said.

    “I… don’t know if I’m comfortable with it,” Brian admitted. “All that’s maybe a bit too close to the slave stuff, which I just. Honestly, I don’t like that. Really rubs me the wrong way.”

    “I can make her a really cute maid outfit?” Stephanie offered. “A really cute one. With my sewing machine, in fact, I could make one for each—”

    “I’m okay with anything,” Christine said again.

    “You helping out around the house can just be a—a paying everyone back thing,” Rebecca said. “Doing your part, helping shoulder some of the burden. I, I don’t think that having her be a literal maid really—”

    “I could, um,” Christine blushed as something came to mind in a puff of silver. “I could just be considered Brian’s personal assistant. That’s not weird—lots of busy people have them. Even my dad had a personal assistant. It’s perfectly normal?”

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