Chapter 9: Theatrics

Chapter 9: Theatrics

~o~

"That's why you'll never win against me."

With those words, I had planted the grief seed into his heart.

Rhaegar challenged me again and again to matches for the rest of the day, but he became more and more reckless as his losses built up. What he could easily avoid in his first few games, he was falling for in his last few. He stopped improving and started deteriorating. I could see the frustration building in his heart as well as the intense desire to defeat me, to prove my words wrong. However, with each subsequent loss, those words became embedded deeper into his soul, blackening it. Without a victory to transfer his grief into, it became almost visible how he was turning from a magical girl into a witch.

Just needed a wish granting cat—Kyubey—and he would be set.

In the subsequent games, in order to keep me playing since I was a bit tired, he upped the stakes on the bets. In the end, I had gained quite a bit in favors and resources that would be delivered at a later date.

At the moment, the prince was stuck babysitting my little sister. Not for the two days that was originally planned in the first bet, but for the whole week before the tournament. He also had to teach Jamie swordsmanship. All in all, I had gained a lot, though I bet his view of me had dropped in light of the tactics I used to win my games. War was a dirty affair, but he couldn't quite seem to grasp that concept, believing it to be a more chivalrous affair. He almost discounted the roles that lower-class people played, the strength that his men-at-arms brought and the supplies that his peasants created. That was his major failing, though he was starting to get better at it at the end.

His actions were slowly changing from a paragon to a scoundrel's. I supposed, in the face of a massive wall, he had to adapt or fail. In the face of an unsurmountable obstacle, being able to keep one's conviction in spite of its constant failings wasn't hard; it just needed a burst of courage to die with it intact. However, when death was not the end, the failings would become clear and more pronounced. It would be harder to keep fooling himself into keeping mental and social constructs that were proven to be ineffective. Eventually, it would take a superhuman feat just to keep that conviction in the face of continuous failure.

If a runner in track and field could rewind time back to the morning of a race he couldn't win, how many loops would it take for him to win? What if he still couldn't? How long until he started to try something different, to seek an alternative path? Maybe a new running style or a different type of training. How many failures would it take before he started to think that he just wanted to win one time? Only one single time to justify all the failures so far. An innocent wish. How long would it take before that runner started to compromise and take underhanded methods? Maybe sabotage an opponent's shoe lace? When does it become a nail in a shoe?

Would he still be the same person he was when he first started the loop?

The answer is…no.

It was human nature to change and adapt. To do otherwise was simply repetition. That, in itself, was unnatural, a type of insanity.

My conclusion? Hayato was insane.

Rhaegar reminded me somewhat of Hayato, trying to strive to a perfect ending for everyone in spite of everything. In spite of his failures and in spite of his feelings. Unlike Hayato, he was starting to see the flaws of that. I would like to think that he was starting to see the flaws of everything around him. For a perfect ending, something had to be sacrificed.

What did that mean for him?

He could be influenced.

One day while I was walking with Rhaegar, I said to him: "Why are you still bothering me? Aren't you supposed to be training?"

Rhaegar smiled. "There is a tournament every so often, and while it is an exciting affair, it is rarer to talk to someone with an outlook such as yours."

"Well, since you can practice with the Kingsguard anytime you want, I guess it wouldn't be that much of a big deal." Left unstated was that the Kingsguard was slated to be the top fighters of the tournament anyways. "But what do you mean by an outlook like mine?"

"You have a strange way of looking at the world. Viewing it from an angle where the skies and mountains are different."

"You want a different perspective? Okay, how about this. Beauty is prized, right?"

Rhaegar nodded.

"In the lower classes, it can be a source of tragedy."

"Lower classes? You mean the smallfolk?"

"Yeah, that's what I meant."

"What do you mean by tragedy?"

"Just ask one of your men-at-arms. They'll tell you if you push them enough." And just like that, I planted a seed.

Powerful houses didn't need to commit atrocities; what they wanted, they often got in ample supply. It was the minor houses and branch houses where most of the crimes against the lower classes occurred. Even if I got into a position of power, clamping down on such things would be exceedingly difficult since I would have to fight not just against people but also against tradition. These rules—and lack of rules—had existed for generations. So I decided to plant some seeds into this impressionable prince. If I told him outright, the impact would be negligible, but if he found out for himself, it would have much more of an effect. Best thing of all, it didn't involve me doing anything other than planting the idea; if he decided to do anything about it, there would be almost no connection to me.

I felt like a farmer, planting some seeds into his head every now and then. The important thing was that he viewed me as peer rather than a subordinate. That was important. If this was before the war games, he probably would have dismissed my talks as idle chatter, but since he came around often enough to talk about various subjects, I knew that he would appreciate my "strange" viewpoint on things.

Of course, not everything was going well on certain fronts.

During the week, Cersei became more and more infatuated with the prince. It wasn't that bad at first—heavy blushing not withstanding, but the point where it probably peaked was when Rhaegar played the harp on that one night. After that, she had become almost intolerable. All she talked about was Prince Rhaegar this, Prince Rhaegar that, such that even Jamie couldn't stand her and that was saying a lot.

As for my twin brother, his competitive spirit had ignited in the sparring matches with Rhaegar, such that he constantly asked for rematches. Of course, Cersei was part of the audience. She was practically attached to the prince by the hip, even waiting patiently outside the privy when he let loose the dragon in there. It got to a weird and obsessive point, even though Rhaegar didn't seem to mind.

The day of the tournament came. Somehow, Cersei had extracted a promise from Rhaegar to name her the queen of love and beauty if he won. I was pretty sure that he only promised her that to appease her; my sister could be very stubborn with the things she wanted. However, she never got a chance for it. Rhaegar got far in the tournament, much further than I thought he would, but in the end, he lost to Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard.

I was seated in the the chairs under a fancy canopy along with the rest of my family except for Tywin. He had gone over to where the King Aerys II Targaryen was sitting. The main event of the tournament was jousting matches. Basically, they rode horses down two opposite lanes, using their lances to knock each other off. However, the lanes were aligned so that you had to aim diagonally across your chest hit the opponent. My only guess for why would be that it reduced the power of the charge so it wouldn't be as deadly. If they aimed straight ahead or slightly right instead of their current diagonal left over the horse's head, their killing power would be increased immensely. Jousting was too impractical for real world skill evaluation. Not to mention that watching horse riders attempting to knock each other off with lances got old fast.

There were other events too like the general melee, but the knights participating in that event weren't participating in the joust. As such, with the joust being the central event, most of the top knights were jousting. Therefore, the people who were left for the other events were typically those trying to make a name for themselves. It was certainly interesting, but not as interesting as it could have been.

When the tournament finally ended, I was just about ready to go home. Actually, I was ready halfway through the joust, but that certainly wouldn't have reflected well on Lannister name. It was at this point that I noticed Tywin walking back towards us, but the angry scowl on his features told me that something was wrong. Not that he didn't have a scowl on often enough, but I could tell this was a bit more serious.

"Father—"

"We're leaving," Tywin said briskly as he strode passed us without stopping.

"Jamie, Cersei," I beckoned as I rose from my seat.

"But Prince Rhaegar…"

"Not now, Cersei. There'll time to talk with him later. Bring Jamie and come."

~o~

The proposal had been rejected. It had already been previously decided that the Targaryens would be staying a week longer, after the end of the tournament, but things between the families had become strained. I suppose that it had become a sort of breaking point because Tywin decided to confide certain things to me. I had to admit, that decision in and of itself was strange. Tywin had always been a private man, keeping his thoughts under lock and key. This wasn't even mentioning the fact that I was only ten years old. Yet, in spite of all this, he confided in me and asked for my opinions.

And I gave them.

An alliance with the Targaryens at this point was out of the question.

"What do you suggest, Hachi?" Tywin asked as he sat stiffly in his seat, at the head of the table. Despite there being numerous seats in the war council room, I was the only one here besides him so I sat at a nearby seat on the side. Still, the words that he had told me were heavy.

It was one thing to reject a proposal, but it was a complete other matter to insult the other party while at it.

The words were: "You are my most able servant, Tywin, but a man does not marry his heir to his servant's daughter."

I was adept with masks, but Tywin's was a hard one even after all these years. He had a quiet fury about him, layered in anger and resent, yet there was something else. Maybe it was his tensed jawline, but it felt like an anger that had been simmering for awhile.

"How long has this been going on?"

He stayed quiet with his fury, but that silence was telling. It was a practiced one.

"So a long time," I mused.

What could I advise him? I knew that this was the crossroads, the point where the future would be decided. If this was a visual novel, I would get a three choice selection. As it was, I was left with only one; the other two choices would only lead to a harder situation.

"From what you told me, he doesn't consider our families to be equal in any regards. Put together his paranoia, any agreement with him would be tenuous at best," I slowly said as I thought about the situation. "Worse is that he's deteriorating." At this point, only a psychologist could save him. Of course, that profession didn't exist in the Seven Kingdoms.

Tywin waited patiently, his stern expression not changing in the slightest. After a couple of minutes, I let out a sigh.

"It's time to pull things back. Resign from being the Hand of the King."

"Reason?" Tywin didn't rebuke it immediately, instead allowing me a chance to convince him. It was only now that I realized how much he valued my opinion because I knew that he wouldn't have put Jamie and Cersei's opinion in his mind at all.

"He is too far gone—er, I mean that he is losing his mind. The longer you stick with him, the more he'll view you as his enemy," I said. "If he still has any sensibility left, he'll come begging you to come back, but I still don't think you should agree even if that happens. This situation will probably just repeat if you do."

"I'll lose much of my power and influence."

"We have plenty of that already," I responded. "Most of that was superficial anyways. What can't be solved with a sack of gold or the reputation of House Lannister? It's best to cut ties before it's too late."

"I'll think on this." By that, I knew that he was actually going to take it up with the family council before making his final decision.

Except he didn't. He didn't speak one word of it to anyone. Not to Uncle Kevan nor to Aunt Genna.

A few hours later, he took up his decision with the king, sending the entire castle into an uproar.

~o~

King Aerys II Targaryen rejected Tywin's resignation. However, those had been words without weight. Tywin had left the symbol of the Hand, the necklace of linked hands, on the floor of the main hall, where it still sat untouched and guarded by a Kingsguard. Besides spewing insults and threats, there was little the king could do. He could try to imprison Tywin or raise an army to siege Casterly Rock, but both options would mean war. This wasn't an upstart village that he could bully around; if things came down to it, Tywin had ensured the loyalty and fear of all the vassal houses in the Westerlands, such that they wouldn't hesitate to raise their arms even against the crown if necessary. Even if we didn't have any Great Houses helping us out, our gold was good enough to hire mercenaries, here and from across the Narrow Sea. If it came down to a war, Westeros would burn.

Of course, if that was all there was, then war was still a very real possibility. However, I was here, and Rhaegar knew that. My ideas were much more scary than just a straight-forward war.

Well, I wasn't sure if I would be able to implement those ideas, if it came down to it. In a game, sure, but real life was altogether a different matter. Still, the threat of it would move him.

And it did.

It took a few days, but he finally came to visit me.

I allowed him entry into my room and allowed him to take a seat. Just taking a glance at his ikeman appearance—though grimmer and more sallow—after all this time did not decrease how much it annoyed me. Even that sickly complexion had a charm to it that would attract a certain set of ladies, though probably not what he would be looking for. After we had both got comfort and exchanged the standard pleasantries—well, more like he did while I nodded—we both got down to business.

"Convince your father to reconsider."

"How about no?" And that was that. Wait, no, it wasn't. Rhaegar instead looked much more annoyed than before.

"My father needs him."

"Your father wasted him," I said. "The Hand of the King is a thankless job, but your father threw that in his face. Insulted not just my father but our entire family as well, but you knew about that. Not just this time, but all the rest as well. Do you think we should just let that go?"

"There will be compensation."

"Look around you," I said with a wave of my arm. "This is the wealth of the Lannister house. What could you possibly offer that we don't already have?" Arrogant words. Words that I wasn't used to saying, but I needed to set the pace for this negotiation, even if it was against my nature.

Rhaegar didn't mince words. "What do you want?"

I didn't want to straight-forward say marry Cersei, and I wasn't even sure if I wanted that anymore. In the end, I just gave a vague reply.

"Dignity and respect."

"You have it."

"It needs to be in a tangible form."

"Just tell me what you want."

"I already told you," I replied exasperatedly. "If you don't understand, then just go already. I have nothing more to say on that."

Rhaegar was quiet for a moment. "There must be another way."

"The king could go on his knees and beg," I said sarcastically.

As if forcing himself—with a slight scowl on his face—he asked, "If I can convince my father to let me marry Cersei, will your father relent?"

"It'll go a long way," I simply said.

Rhaegar nodded his head and quickly left.

In the end, I never heard a word from him before he and his father left back to King's Landing.

When I came the main hall, I saw that they had taken the necklace of linked hands with them.

~o~

It only took a few weeks before we received a raven that the new Hand of the King was Lord Owen Merryweather. Tywin went into a cold fury for awhile, though that was a bit unreasonable if you asked me since he did resign himself. Thankfully, nobody asked me. Not that I would say anything even if someone did.

Cersei was in a depressive mood. Aunt Genna was doing most of the comforting with Jamie also by her side, doing his awkward best to distract her.

As for me, I was getting ready for my magic lesson. Honestly, I never thought that I would be looking forward to the day that I could study, but this was magic so it was the exception. It had to be. If not magic, what would even qualify as an exception?

Magic was the fantasy of everyone, young and old. It was such a desirable and fantastical thing that some people mistakenly studied occult books or kept their cherry until thirty to become a wizard. That was how powerful the concept of magic was to the modern world.

And I do mean magic by incantation and material usage, not the fire ability given by Zaimokuza.

While my flame powers would be considered magic, I considered it more like a psionic ability. It would ignite on command and every aspect of it was getting better with practice, but it didn't require materials or incantations like regular magic. It was more like an esper or superhero's ability. Therefore, it couldn't really qualify since I could do the practice for my fire abilities by myself, and there was no way she could teach me how to use it better than what I already knew from manga. I did ask, just in case though. The results were just as I expected.

Even as excited as I was, I waited patiently.

And waited.

And waited.

She never arrived.

~o~

In the end, I had to head to Lannisport myself to find out what was going on. Of course, I had to go with a sizable escort. As well as Cersei.

Why the last one? Aunt Genna insisted a trip might lighten Cersei's depressive mood. As her chaperone, I was to ensure that she at least smiled once on this trip. How I became her chaperone, despite being the same age, was a question that I wasn't going to ask.

The trip itself was made in silence. Cersei was lost in her own thoughts, and I wasn't good enough at comforting her to break through her daze. I tried. I really did. When we reached Lannisport, I disembarked, but Cersei stayed on the carriage. Because of that, I left half of the guards with her and went into town. Someone had been notified before my arrival because there was someone from a branch house who came to greet me.

"My lord, welcome back to Lannisport. I am Jeorge of House Lantell. As always, we're happy to be in your presence, but may I inquire as to the purpose of your visit?" A balding man with a circlet of hair on top of a chubby head and body with a particular pallor that indicated that he spent much of his time out of the sunlight. Even though he was chubby, you couldn't really say he had gotten fat from eating food excessively. In this world, there was no vitamins or any notion of daily nutrition. Keeping in shape was more difficult, especially if your job was more of the scholarly type.

"I'm looking for a priestess of R'hllor."

His eyes flickered. "That is…"

When he didn't continue, I asked, "Where is she?"

"This is a little hard for me to say, my lord."

I hardened my stare. "Where is she?"

"She's dead, my lord."

If I was strong enough, I would have probably grabbed his collar, Hayato-style. However, instead, I kept my calm and asked him for the details. For some reason, that actually made him more nervous, such that he was stuttering and mixing his words. I had learned before that, sometimes, the build-up was better than the climax. The anticipation of violence was more frightening than the violence itself.

By this time, I noticed that his awkward spewing was coming closer to the end, so it was time to reorganize it and summarize it. Basically, what happened was that a few days ago, a ship bringing a new batch of priests of R'hllor arrived at the port. Of course, this ship included the new batches of orders in magical textbooks as well as incantation material, some of it being very fragile. There were already priests and priestesses in town, led by Melisandre, and they were tolerated enough because of my orders, even though a fourth of the town had converted to the new religion. However, the new batch of R'hllor missionaries was the breaking point. Those that were faithful to the Seven became militant, gathering in a mob. In the end, two priests and one priestess were hung while the rest found shelter in the Lannister branch house before the mob could be dispersed by the Lannisport guards. Of course, that one priestess was Melisandre.

To say I was pissed was an understatement.

"The instigators?"

"I apologize, my lord, but we did not find who was responsible."

"And the corpses?" At his silence, I said, "Where are the bodies of the priests and priestess?"

"They are still hanging by the wharf, my lord."

"What?" I asked icily. "Why haven't they been taken down?"

"It was one of the conditions for the mob to disperse. They threatened to riot if they are taken down."

"You negotiated with them…?"

"My—My lord, you've to understand. Many of the skilled workers were a part of the mob. If too many of them are hurt, it would paralyze the economy of Lanisport."

"I see…" I closed my eyes for a moment. It was a good reason, though it did nothing to abate my anger. I took a deep breath before I opened my eyes. "Cut the bodies down on my authority. Any who dares challenge it directly challenges House Lannister. After you do that, bring the bodies to the branch house."

"As you wish, my lord." The chubby man bowed and quickly left to carry out my orders.

I turned to the guard next to me and said, "Go and have Cersei brought to the mansion of House Lantell. I want the men to be ready in case of retaliation from the smallfolk."

"They wouldn't dare raise their arms against my lord, but I shall follow your orders." He bowed slightly and left.

I looked at the rest of my guards. "As for the rest of you, follow. I wish to survey the city."

~o~

My presence, as I walked through the city, was quickly known and spread throughout. Any thoughts of rioting was put down from my appearance alone. I didn't even have to have guards with me and these people would still just give up. That was how powerful the influence House Lannister had on this city. Of course, I still needed guards in case of assassins.

By the time that I made my way to the mansion of House Lantell, the city had been pacified. During the walk, I saw different parts of the city including the slums. Prostitutes, thugs, and children living as street rats. I sympathized with them, but there wasn't much I could do for them. If I gave them money, it would win their love, but it would only feed them for a day. That was, of course, if they didn't get robbed or killed just for having that money. Well, with what I planned to implement, it should help lessen the slums, enough for new occupants to come. New occupants? What did I mean by that?

Well, when you raise people out of poverty, it doesn't get rid of the slum even if you take everyone of the slum dwellers out of there. Why? That was because the news would spread and immigrants would come to fill up the slums in the hopes they would receive the same luck and get out of poverty. That, however, was also a way to grow a city. If you couldn't make it big in a small town, then go to Tokyo to try your luck. That type of thinking was what I was aiming for. As it was now, they simply went to King's Landing or Oldtown.

I had already implemented a number of changes throughout the years to smaller towns and villages, but I would need Tywin's direct approval to do something about Lannisport. Considering that it was the main trade port of the Westerland, I had a harder time than usually getting changes through. It was only a matter of time, but it was still more inefficient than I would have liked. Not to mention frustrating.

When I reached the mansion, most of the members of the branch house were there to greet me. After making sure that Cersei had arrived, I had them direct me to the corpses. I walked alone into the room and had the attending servants leave. On three beds were the corpses. The two R'hllor priests were in a varying degree of decomposition, their smell a bit better with what seemed to be a liberal application of perfume. However, it was Melisandre who caught my attention. Her corpse was pristine, as if she was only just sleeping.

I never expected this. I should have expected this, honestly. Even in my past life, there was a period of time in the feudal era where the influx of Christianity from foreign missionaries was discriminated heavily against, such that people had to hide their faith or be killed. As such, there was past precedent that I could have based it on, but I really didn't think of it. Shintoism, Buddhism, and Christianity weren't really part of my daily modern life; it just wasn't as prominent as it used to be, therefore it completely slipped my mind. Or at least, that was what I kept telling myself.

It was hard. Hard to look at her like this when I knew that it was my fault.

The last time that I talked to her was when the tournament was happening. She had promised that with the coming batch of new missionaries, there would be no more need for her presence in the city. From then on, she was going to devote her time to teaching me magic. I had been excited to the point that I could barely wait.

Damn it.

I stood there. I didn't know how long. My eyes eventually turned to the jewel in her neck choker. I was surprised she still had it; it was a beautiful enough ruby that seemed to be constantly flickering, something that I would expect would be the first thing looted from her even before her hanging.

Perhaps, it was because of that long solitary moment that I saw her chest move slightly.

I was quickly by her side, putting two fingers on her neck.

There was a pulse. Faint but steady.

"My lord, I wasn't aware that you came for a visit."

I found myself staring into the open and amused eyes of a certain still-alive priestess.

"I see reports of your death were greatly exaggerated." I deadpanned, seeming calmer than how I actually felt.

"Were I a normal woman, it wouldn't be exaggerated at all."

"You're still injured; you need to be seen by a maester. I'll arrange for the evacuation of you and your priests."

"That won't be necessary," Melisandre said. "The time for theatrics is now, my lord, or this port will forever be in the hold of the Seven."

~o~

Night had fallen, but on the beach of Lannisport, there were numerous torches that illuminated the darkness. Crowds were gathered around were in such numbers that it was like the entirety of Lannisport came out on this night. That was because it was.

A few hours ago, I had sent out people to shout out the information, that by the order of House Lannister, everyone in the city was to appear at the beach when night falls and the moon rises. Anyone—except for the infirm and their caretaker—that was loitering around in town would be taken by the guards as thieves who plan the rob the houses while everyone was gone. I made absolutely sure that everyone was notified.

The crowd was gathered around in a half-circle around a small hill of stacked wooden logs. By its appearance alone, they would know that this had the makings to start a bonfire. However, on top of the logs were three bodies. They were precisely the two priests and one priestess who were killed a couple of days ago. In that sense, it was actually a funeral pyre.

As I stood before the small tower of wood, looking over the crowd, I couldn't help but give Cersei, who was standing next to me, a side-glance. Despite her mood, she seemed curious as to what all this was. I hadn't really wanted to show her this scene, but leaving her in the empty city was just asking for something bad to happen. I took a deep breath before I looked back at the crowd gathered around.

"My name!" As I began, the crowds quickly quieted down, allowing the sound of breathing and flickering torches to be heard. "Many of you know my name, but some of you don't. So let me speak this clearly. My name is Hachi Lannister, heir to House Lannister. I am your future lord. I brought the religion of R'hllor to Westeros. Some of you are not happy with that. I understand. However! Under my decree, both the faith of the Seven and R'hllor was to be accepted in Lannisport. Yet in spite of this, you defied me and hung three people."

The crowd started to become rowdy.

"Silence!" The people quickly became quiet. "It is well within my rights to punish you however I see fit, but I won't. This is the only time I will let this go. If this happens again, my wrath shall be felt. Both faiths are to be tolerated in Lannisport. I will accept no objection. If you feel that I am being unfair or unjust, you may leave Lannisport. I'll not stop you. However, if you stay, you will listen to my decrees. Make no mistake; my word here is law."

"But the King's law—!"

"The King's law will be followed, but so will mine in this city." I glanced to a guard with a torch near me. He nodded and handed over the torch to me. "In penance for this tragedy, all of you must witness this funeral. I will personally light this funeral pyre and set right the wrong that you had all committed. This is my responsibility as your lord."

I turned around and walked over to the small tower of wooden logs. Stopping right besides it, I stood silent for a moment. I gave a bow, which was something that caused many to gasp in surprise. It was only when I stood up straight again that placed the head of the burning torch against the pyre, setting the wood alight. Like a hungry beast, the flames spread across the logs, setting it all aflame with the crackles of the devouring fire. Soon, the entire tower was on fire.

I backed away to where Cersei was standing and watched it burn. I felt a hand squeezed mine, charmingly soft but firm, and I knew that it was my little sister without having to look. As the fire carried on, the wood began to crack. Throughout all of this, the crowd was entirely silent, watching the pyre burn.

Until it was broken by a shout.

"Something is moving in there!"

The crowd started to become rowdy as voices began shouting out.

A feminine figure began to walk out of the flames, setting foot on the sand with the flames still flickering over her bare skin. Naked as the day she was born, with the exception of a gemmed necklace, Melisandre moved across the sand as if she had not been injured at all.

Some in the crowd fell to their knees while a couple shouted witchcraft. However, none could deny what they were seeing. I felt Cersei squeezing my hand harder. With a glance to my side, I sent a guard walking towards the red priestess with a robe that I had prepared for her. He draped the red robe around her shoulders, and she nodded her thanks to him. However, she didn't accept his assistance as she walked over to me.

Even through the darkness of the night, lit only by the bonfire and torches, I could see from this close that, under the cover of the red robes that hid her, her skin had been scorched in some spots. There were even angry red burns on her hands and the lower side of her left cheek as well. I hadn't controlled the flames well enough.

"I've returned, my lord," she simply said.

"Welcome back."

~o~

A/N: Currently resisting the urge to get addicted to another game again.