The morning after my first date with Sophia finds me perched atop the Visage Spire like a bird of ill omen, leaning over the edge of the roof of one of the tines. I’m still thinking about my last conversation with Mordacity.
How can I kill a god? I asked.
Mordacity gave me an answer: cut it, claim it, or consume it. Each egregore considers itself the “rising god” of three domains or aspects. Mars is war, bloodshed, and the clash of ideals, while Venus is love, beauty, and the adoration of the masses. To kill Venus, I’ll need to turn her aspects against each other, usurp dominion over one of them, or somehow devour her whole. Mordacity voted for consumption, the ravenous wretch.
However I’m going to kill Venus, I need more power first. I’ve learned the secret of my mantle: it’s just a pattern containing other patterns, etched into glass and dreams. It can be altered. It can be stretched. I just wish I could do more.
You don’t have the time for it, Mordacity said when I asked to learn wizardry. You need the training wheels.
My limitations frustrate me. Sophia is fighting a war and I’m not strong enough to save her, and the one power that could do it is beyond my reach.
I want to be with her. Those precious hours at the aquarium were wonderful and incredible and not even close to good enough. I need more. I need my Sophia. And that means I have to lift the world from her shoulders before it buries her.
I flex my fingers and conjure a green fireball of transformation magic. This pattern is the shaper of clay; it’s the Prometheus that created life. It can transform objects, animals, and nonmagical humans, but it can’t affect witches, magical girls, or familiars. I tested it extensively with Ferromancer and Bombshell. We all have limits like that. We all have restrictions on what we can make into our familiars.
Those limitations are lies. All limitations are lies. Everything is just patterns.
I need to convince my magic that it can work on other people that have magic. It shouldn’t be that much of a stretch; I can transform Ferromancer’s arcane technology and Agatha’s book of elemental sorcery. With the right justification for Prometheus—the right alteration to its patterns—I should be able to exert my will on a magical girl and transform her.
The trick is going to be finding volunteers for my experiments. I could go around hunting freelancers like the Blurs, but that’s frowned upon by Visage and I’m trying to be a good little wageslave for my corporate overlords. I’ve asked Ferromancer—tried to extort it out of her, more like—and she refused quite strongly, which I found quite rude.
Maybe I can work on Agatha some more. I told Pandora that I was interested in learning how to steal a human heart and shape a human mind, and I meant it. Friends, coworkers, partners, they all change each other in little ways. Quirks of speech that spread memetically. Interests learned from others. Opinions regurgitated and internalized.
When I was first testing out Prometheus, I tried to learn pottery. I tried to craft things with my hands. But I don’t think that’s who I am. I think I’m meant to craft with language. If I can change how someone thinks, acts, speaks, is that not equivalent to sculpting a lump of clay?
My phone alarm goes off, shaking me from my brooding, and I swoop down from the heights of the Spire to one of its many upper floor entrances. My destination is inside.
I stroll through the halls of the Spire, still mindful of everything I learned from Mordacity. That secretary, those number crunchers, the HR lady, any of them might have magic outside the system of mantles. Chosen of Venus, practitioners of forbidden arts, seekers of secrets.
I’m going to go crazy with paranoia if I suspect everyone I meet of being a wizard.
Kira Kira and Sweet Tooth are already waiting in the recording room when I get there, though I made sure to be a little early. It’s a lounge space prepped for filming, with a big couch and a long table framed nicely by Visage memorabilia in front of a professional camera setup. The table is overflowing with snack food and soft drinks.
“Archon!” Sweet Tooth greets me cheerfully. She bounces out of her seat and bounds over to pull me inside. I kick the door closed behind me. “Hey girl! So good to see you again, oh my gosh, you’ve been killing it on stream. You’re looking great! Hug?”
I hug the pastel witch warmly before taking my perch on the near side of the couch. “Thanks! It’s good to see you, too. Last time was, what, middle of December? I’ll never be able to thank you enough for sponsoring my application. Working at Visage has been a dream come true. Hey there, Kira.”
The starlight witch grunts, her attention entirely focused on her phone.
“Kira. Kira!” Sweet Tooth crosses her arms and glares at her partner, which is more adorable than intimidating thanks to all her frills and sparkles. “Kiki!”
Kira looks up, annoyed. “Oh, don’t you dare. We’ve still got like five minutes before we even need to start setting up for the stream.”
“Mhm, mhm, and you’ve decided the best use of that time is reading the patch notes for Elden Ring, is that right?” Sweet Tooth plops down between me and Kira and leans over her girlfriend’s shoulder to read her phone.
Smugly, Kira says, “I have, yes. Would that your time could be so productive.”
Sweet turns back to me with a roll of her eyes. “Please ignore her. And hey, thank you for talking to Radiance and taking the job! I knew you’d be a great fit. Didn’t I say that, Kira? Kira?”
Kira sighs dramatically and throws her phone onto an empty seat cushion. “Yes, fine, you said that. C’mon, babe, she’s already in the org, you don’t need to lay it on this thick. Archon’s chill, right?” She shoots me an expectant, almost pleading look.
“As chill as the Boreal Valley,” I say solemnly.
“See?” Kira gestures in my direction. “This is gamer-to-gamer communication, sugartits. You wouldn’t get it, since you’re not a gamer like us.” I resist the urge to cringe, knowing she’s playing this up to antagonize her partner.
Sweet Tooth throws her head back and groans. “Oh. My. Gosh in fudging heck, you absolute bitch. Minecraft is a real game!!! I know where you live!!!”
The duo continue their banter while a manager lays out some of the topics Visage wants us to bring up during the stream—as well as some of the topics that should be absolutely avoided, like anything to do with Echidna’s movements and the Sekiu disaster. We’ll all be expected to fight alongside Vanguard and Coterie when the Catastrophe surfaces for real, but until then Visage doesn’t want any of its idols fucking up the messaging. The official line is that Visage entertainers provide much-needed hope and comfort in uncertain times. The unofficial line is that no one in the organization—except maybe Agatha, the poor dear—wants to stick their neck out until they have to.
And then, prepwork completed, we go live.
The point of a “mukbang” or social eating stream is to recreate a sense of community for those who either lack friends and family to eat with entirely or just don’t get to see them often enough to have shared meals as a regular social experience. In theory, it’s a way to bring people together and make them feel less lonely. In practice, there are a whole lot of problems with the typical mukbang—excessive food waste, encouraging eating disorders, and the inherent flaw of trying to replace genuine social connection with the parasocial relationship between streamer and viewer—even before you point out the preference for watching attractive women do the eating. There’s an element of vicarious dating to the whole experience that might make a more delicate sort uncomfortable.
To me, it’s just another vector to manipulate my audience. If they want to feel special, I’ll make them feel special. And in return, they’ll become mine.
“Mm, these are pretty poggers,” I say through a mouthful of dried mango slices. “Chat, who here likes fruit snacks? Tried anything like this? What are y’all eating?”
Sweet Tooth pops a macaron in her mouth, makes a pleased noise, and waits until she’s swallowed it to throw one at her girlfriend and say, “Kira! Kira, you’ve gotta try these!”
Kira catches the treat with admirable reflexes and nibbles on it between bites of strawberry biscuit sticks. “Yeah, okay, that’s not bad.”
“Not bad!?!? Your taste buds are dead! Your tongue is made of lead!”
“Not bad means it’s good!” Kira insists. “It’s a seven out of ten, that’s at least worth buying for sale price! Chat, back me up.”
We wash down our starting snacks with a round of drinks: three flavors of ramune—peach, blueberry, and pineapple—and several cans of guava nectar.
“So how was everyone’s Christmas?” I ask. “Do anything fun?”
“Eh,” Kira says at the same time that Sweet Tooth nods her head emphatically. Sweet glares at Kira, who rolls her eyes.
“We visited my family!” Sweet says. “Big ‘ol Christmas dinner with the works, and we did presents! Under a tree and everything, which was super nostalgic.”
“I never refuse free food,” Kira adds. “Your folks were alright.”
Every performer in Visage has to carefully navigate their interpersonal dynamics with the people in their lives, including other performers. Kira Kira and Sweet Tooth are girlfriends; that’s something I’m completely certain of, no question about it. Their interactions on stream hint at that relationship, but they can never say it outright. If their relationship was public, then they’d become less desirable to a lot of Visage’s audience. That’s not even a gay thing, because more conventional idols in Japan get dragged across the coals if it ever gets out that one of them has a boyfriend. On the other hand, they can definitely get away with being more openly flirtatious and have it be dismissed as just girls being girls. Still, there’s always a limit.
Kira and Sweet’s solution is to play up the friction between their perspectives. Sweet is bubbly and sentimental, Kira is cynical and insincere. Kira’s a hardcore gamer, Sweet barely plays video games. In reality, Kira was probably on her best behavior visiting her girlfriend’s family, but for the sake of the facade—the kayfabe that they’re not dating—she paints herself as an uncaring glutton.
“So what did you get up to?” Kira asks me after another round of banter with Sweet.
“Oh, I stayed home and caught up on everyone’s stream vods. There were so many delicious clips to harvest for my December roundup video.”
That was, in fact, most of what I did during the week of Christmas. After I chickened out on confessing to Sophia, I threw myself into my Visage work and didn’t let up until the weekend.
Of course, I’m not saying that to be honest; Archon’s appeal is that she’s the fangirl. I’m just like you, lonely nerd watching this stream. Kira and Sweet spending time together is aspirational, but staying home alone watching streamers is probably more accurate to the median viewer experience.
We cycle through more of the snack spread, transitioning into potato chips, roasted seaweed, and corn puffs.
Sweet Tooth devours the chips. “We have got to visit Japan again,” she insists to Kira. “Importing this stuff is such a pain! I can never get all the flavors. And we can say hi to our overseas seniors! Archon, you should come with!”
Kira goes for the corn puffs. “I wouldn’t mind hanging with Ryu again. Oh, we could go to that really good wagyu place in Akihabara.”
Don’t mention the maid cafe, don’t mention the maid cafe, don’t mention the maid cafe. I sigh wistfully and say, “I’d love that. I’ve always dreamed of meeting Ryu-senpai in person.”
When the last of the spread is gone and we’ve exhausted our list of topics, Sweet Tooth maneuvers the conversation to a natural stopping point and leads us into sign-off. Once the camera stops rolling, she sprawls out on the couch and pats her stomach with a contented sigh.
“That went well!” she chirps. “Man, that food was good. Best part about magic? I don’t need to watch my weight anymore.”
Kira snorts. “Yeah, I’m gonna put flying, never getting sick, and immortality above that.”
My attention sharpens. Today’s gig is work for Visage, but it’s also work for the conspiracy; this is my chance to get in closer with these two and suss out if either of them is a direct pawn of Venus. “Personally,” I say lightly, “that’s all pretty good, but I’m living for the attention. I could skip meals with enough of the crowd screaming my name.”
It’s what a disciple of Venus would say, or the kind of person that can be convinced to become a disciple of Venus. A devotee of the adoring masses.
Kira laughs me off and returns her attention to her phone. Sweet Tooth, on the other hand, perks up. It’s not a big change, but I’m used to studying a much less emotive face than hers. Her eyes brighten, the corners of her mouth twitch, and she shifts toward me just a fraction of an inch.
“I feel the same way!” Sweet gushes. “I mean, like, I know people online go on and on about ‘parasocialism’ or whatever, but it’s a real rush, right? Knowing you have all those fans that feel such a powerful connection to you? Wanting you, needing you, loving you? The money is one thing, but that’s the real reward.”
“The money’s better at getting me drugs,” Kira drawls. “And getting you clothes, and food, and—”
“Blah blah blah, oh my gosh we get it!” Sweet Tooth rolls her eyes. “Ignore her, please oh please ignore her. You agree with what I was saying, right, Archon?”
“For sure,” I nod. “I mean, I’ve already got basically enough money to live comfortably, and I’m not the kind of person to dream of living in a penthouse or a mansion. But I’ve still got that itch to make my numbers better, to grow my audience, because I love logging on and seeing all those names pop into chat begging for my attention. It’s a power trip.”
Sweet giggles. “The best kind. Gosh, you’re fun. I need to get you in a room with Maenad. I should make sure you have an invite to her party!”
I let my face light up. “Would you? Those always seem a blast.”
“Of course! Oh, not the monthly Jackbox stream, she’s already booked her roster for January. But! She’s hosting an in-person party! Sometime in early February, I think. I’ll make sure you get the deets; she always trusts a referral from me.” Sweet Tooth preens and flutters her eyelashes. “It’s going to be so much fun. Most of the girls should show—definitely all the girls you want to know—and Maenad brings the best drugs and booze. Prepare to get absolutely wasted, bestie.”
I grin. “Sounds like my kind of party. I’ll be there no matter what.”
Got one. I’ll have Agatha find an opportunity to check with her sight, but I’m fairly confident that I’ve just found a follower of Venus.
[commentary]
god im hungry after writing this chapter. give me money so i can buy japanese snack food
A special thank you to my Grandmaster-tier patrons, whose support has kept food on my table: Adrian CC, Ashlyn, CaosSorge, Crows Danger, Demi, Lirian, M, Mgbm, Mhai Wind, Morrigan, October, Paige Harvey, PR4v1 Samaratunga, and Selacanis. Wow that’s a lot of you! Thank you so much!
If you like this story and want to see more of it, please go to the RR page and leave a rating or review! Web serials live and die on audience support, and this one is no exception. The better the story does on RR, the more people click through and read, the more motivation I have (both on a mental health level and on an “able to pay rent” level) to keep writing and to write faster.
The next scheduled break week starts on the 11th of January.
[/commentary]