Chelsea
“I liked when you yelled at them,” Celeste said.
She was sitting alone in a plain wooden chair in the manor’s treasure room, dressed in sleepwear and surrounded by more wealth than most people would see in their lives. Coins sat in tidy stacks. Weapons rested on racks. Armor stood along the walls, waiting to be broken by Adriane for Chelsea fodder.
The treasure room had not been Chelsea’s first choice for this, but it had the most secure locks in the manor, and that mattered.
It also happened to be where Chelsea had started keeping her mimic larvae.
They were not locked up. They did not need to be. They were harmless little things, all gums and tongues and curious eyes, displayed across shelves and low tables like a collection of strange treasure boxes. Some were plain wood. Some were painted. Some looked like tiny metal coffers, little jewelry cases, small travel chests, and delicate trinket boxes that occasionally blinked.
Chelsea had arranged them by style, size, and personality. Ivy argued that they didn’t have personalities but Chelsea could tell. They were here babies.
Looty had her own spot near the front.
She was the first one Chelsea had collected, the smallest in the entire group, and still Chelsea’s favorite if she was being honest. Not that she would ever say that out loud in front of the others. Still, every time Chelsea entered the room, Looty’s tiny lid lifted just enough to show her eyes, and Chelsea’s heart softened a little.
Celeste glanced toward the little mimic, who was sitting open just enough to watch them.
“You really do love these gross little things,” Celeste said.
She waited for Chelsea to take back over so she could give her response.
“They’re sweet,” Chelsea finally replied. “And they deserve better than what people use them for.” She gave Celeste back control.
Celeste’s mouth tightened slightly, though she did not argue.
Chelsea knew what mimic larvae were to most of this world and she hated it. Maybe that was why she kept buying them whenever she found them. She had made space for them among the treasure instead of hiding them away somewhere shameful.
Here, they were not objects. They were hers.
“I’m going to assign a title you haven’t used yet,” Celeste continued in a bit of a monotone voice. It felt weird having someone else talk with Chelsea’s mouth.
Chelsea watched from the back of her own mind as Celeste stared off. Chelsea couldn’t see exactly what she was doing. Which title did she mean?
“With Multiple Personalities,” Celeste answered as if she could read her thoughts… which Chelsea knew she couldn’t.
The title settled into place.
“Ah,” she said softly. “See there?”
Chelsea felt the response from Instinctive Control almost immediately. A way back.
“Why did I never use this?” Chelsea asked. She was able to take back control of her body at will instead of waiting.
She followed the urging and used it to give control back to Celeste.
Celeste smiled, but there was little warmth in it. “You’ve been busy.” Celeste looked down at their shared hands and flexed the fingers once. “Playing the saintly demon in my body.”
With the title assigned, Chelsea could feel the difference. She could regain control whenever she wanted. It was strange, but in a good way.
“Whoa,” Chelsea said. “What exactly does this thing do?”
With Multiple Personalities - Acquired by using the racial ability Instinctive Control, allowing your inner demon to control the body.
While assigned:
-Allows primary host to regain control of the body at any time.-Allows the secondary host to alert the primary host of the desire to control the body.-Removes the time limit on the Instinctive Control ability.-If the ability 'The Eyes' is used, both hosts will see it the status.
-The secondary host cannot unassign With Multiple Personalities.
Chelsea read it twice.
“Oh, Celeste,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I never looked at that.”
Celeste did not answer right away. Her eyes moved toward Looty. The little mimic’s lid lifted a fraction higher, then settled. She had no teeth. None of them did. They were babies. Harmless, soft, and completely dependent on Chelsea.
“Doesn’t matter,” Celeste said.
“So,” Celeste continued, still looking around, “you’re losing your elf?”
Chelsea’s heart started racing. “I... well, yeah. I am for a few years. But when I come back, she will be here waiting.”
“Do you really believe she will wait for you?”
Chelsea furrowed her eyebrows. “Why wouldn’t she?”
Celeste turned her head slightly, not enough to face Chelsea fully. “Because three years is a long time when someone is lonely.”
“Celeste.”
Celeste folded their hands in their lap. “You trust her that much?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to never wonder?”
Chelsea did not answer immediately.
Celeste felt that hesitation and her lips smile.
“I trust my silly little elf,” Chelsea said. “If she feels half the way I do about her, then yes.”
Celeste pressed against the ability, asking for control again.
Chelsea let her have it.
Celeste’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she settled more fully into the body.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Celeste said. “You’ll tell me Ivy deserves better than suspicion after everything she has given you.”
Chelsea was quiet as she didn’t take back over.
Celeste smiled faintly. “Am I wrong?”
“No,” Chelsea admitted. “But that doesn’t make what you’re saying fair.”
“Fair?” Celeste repeated. “Chelsea, I am trying to keep us alive. You keep collecting weaknesses.” She gestured around the room at the mimic larvae. “Case and point.”
“I see the best in people I’m close with. That’s not a weakness.”
“Could have fooled me.” Celeste scoffed.
Chelsea let out a small breath through their shared mouth. “Celeste, I know this arrangement isn’t ideal. Is there anything I can do to make it more ideal for you?”
“Could stop being nice to everyone, you’re going to get us killed.” Celeste said.
“Not what I meant,” Chelsea replied with her smile that made everyone melt.
Celeste ended the smile quickly as soon as she took back over..
“Don’t even try it with me,” Celeste said. “I know all of your tricks.”
“I have tricks?”
“Yes,” Celeste said. “You listen. You ask gentle questions. You smile at people until they forget they meant to hate you. Then somehow they end up crying, hugging you, or agreeing to be better versions of themselves.” Celeste mockingly held both hands to her face to mimic being sweet and adorable.
Chelsea did not know what to say to that.
Celeste leaned back in the chair. “We aren’t going to be best friends and braid our hair together.”
“Why not?” Chelsea asked.
Celeste laughed once, quietly. “Because I know what you are doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“You want to make me safe. To be able to show me off, like look mom, I tamed the evil demon princess.”
Chelsea went still.
Celeste’s fingers curled slightly around the edge of the chair.
“You don’t even have to say it,” Celeste continued. “You think if you understand me enough, if you give me enough room, if you treat me kindly for long enough, I’ll stop being me.”
Chelsea softened. “Is that what you think I want?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No.”
Celeste looked down.
Chelsea waited a moment before continuing.
“I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, Celeste. But I don’t want you to be anything but yourself.”
That made Celeste quiet.
Looty opened her lid a little wider.
Chelsea noticed and leaned a little closer to her, smiling at her ‘baby’.
The tiny mimic stared at them with wide eyes, then closed herself again.
“Did you ever have any friends back home?” Chelsea asked.
Celeste’s leaned them back again and folded her arms.
“No.”
“Celeste.” Chelsea said, half annoyed that she wasn’t participating.
“Don’t do this, Chelsea.” Her voice was softer now. “We aren’t going to become friends.”
Chelsea did not push.
Celeste stared at the floor, and when she spoke again, the sharpness was thinner than before.
“Don’t bring up the problems in my old life.”
“OK,” Chelsea said gently. “I won’t.”
For a moment, Celeste did nothing.
Chelsea could feel the pressure of her there, sitting in control of the body. One of the larvae clicked softly from somewhere along the wall, then went quiet again.
Celeste’s hands curled into fists.
Then she screamed. “Fuck you, Chelsea!”
The sound rang through the treasure room.
“I hate you. Do you know that? I hate you every single fucking day!”
Chelsea did not answer.
Celeste stood so abruptly that the chair scraped against the floor. “Every single day, I have to wake up to you wrapped around that elf. I have to feel how much you love her. I have to watch you look at her like the world is less awful just because she’s in the room.”
Chelsea stayed quiet.
That only made Celeste more furious.
“And then you go out and play saint because it makes you feel good. You smile at diseased little orphans. You teach stupid fucks how to read. You feed people. You buy buildings. You make everyone cry and call it kindness.”
Celeste’s breathing was sharp by the end. She turned in place, looking around the treasure room as if the locked wealth around her had suddenly become ridiculous.
A mimic larva shifted on one of the small tables. The latch gave a little tap from the inside.
Celeste stared at it. Then her face shifted in annoyed confusion.
“Chelsea?”
“Yes?”
Celeste swallowed. “Why didn’t you take back over?”
“Do you want me to take back over?”
“Well, no.” Celeste looked toward the door, then back toward all of the treasure. “I could live this life better than you.”
“Then do it,” Chelsea said sweetly.
Celeste went still.
The words seemed to unsettle her more than any argument could have.
“You’re...” Celeste’s voice lowered. “You’re going to let me take over?”
Chelsea did not reply.
Celeste waited. Nothing happened.
“OK,” Celeste said.
She took one slow step, then another.
The treasure room floor was cold beneath her bare feet. She looked down at it, then shifted her weight. Her toes pressed against the stone, reacting to the rough surface in a way she had never been able to choose before. She had felt things through Chelsea plenty of times. That was different. This was hers to notice. Hers to respond to.
She walked to the nearest wall and ran her fingers along the stone.
Then she turned toward the door.
It was thick, reinforced, and built with locks that made the room safer than any standard room could. Chelsea had chosen it for that reason. If something went wrong, the door could keep other people safe until she took control back.
Celeste understood that. Chelsea trusted everyone in her life… but her. And maybe Bea.
She appreciated it and hated it at the same time.
“So if I were to try walking out of this room,” Celeste asked, “you wouldn’t object?”
“You’re free to do as you want,” Chelsea replied. “But if you start to harm someone or give away secrets, I will take back over.”
Celeste stood there, uncertain.
Freedom should have felt better than this.
Slowly, she walked to the door and knocked. A moment passed.
Then the lock clicked, followed by another, then another. The door opened, and Ivy stood on the other side with Chelsea’s bag at her hip and concern already on her face.
“I am giving Celeste some freedom today,” Chelsea said before control shifted fully back to Celeste.
Ivy blinked.
Then she steadied herself with impressive speed.
“Oh. Umm, OK.” Ivy gave a cautious little smile. “Hi, Celeste.”
Celeste stared at her.
“Elf,” she replied.
Chelsea noted that it was an improvement over disgusting elf.
Ivy seemed to notice that too, because her smile became a little more real. “What, uh, can I help you with anything?”
Celeste’s gaze moved over her. The blonde hair. The purple robes. The obvious worry she was trying not to show too much.
“I don’t know why she cries over you,” Celeste said.
Ivy’s expression changed, but she did not answer.
Celeste stepped past her into the hallway area outside the treasure room. She dragged her fingers over the nearest shelf as she walked, touching wood, cloth, metal, and stacked crates just because she could.
Ivy followed at a careful distance.
“So,” Ivy asked, “what do you want to do?”
“Eat,” Celeste replied.
“Oh. Here.”
Ivy reached into Chelsea’s bag and pulled out a wrapped heart.
Chelsea saw the face Ivy made when she held it out. It was quick, but it was there. A tiny flash of disgust followed by determination, because Ivy was trying very hard to be polite to the demon currently wearing her girlfriend’s body.
Chelsea felt their lips curve up into a smile.
“Take a bite,” Celeste demanded.
Ivy froze. “What?”
“Take a bite.”
“But I don’t...” Ivy looked at the heart, then at Celeste. “I don’t eat that.”
“I was forced to taste that disgusting food you eat by Chelsea,” Celeste said. “The least you can do is try mine.”
“I didn’t force you to.”
“Chelsea took a bite, and I had no say,” Celeste replied. Her voice stayed controlled, but Chelsea could feel the anger beneath it. “I would say that counts.”
Ivy’s fingers tightened around the wrapping.
“Take the fucking bite.”
“Nope,” Chelsea said at once. “Nope, nope, nope. She does not have to take a bite… Celeste.” Chelsea warned.
Celeste smiled without humor. “That didn’t take long. Can’t help being in control, can you, Chelsea?”
“You tried to make Ivy eat a heart.”
“I wasn’t hurting her or telling her secrets.” Celeste let out a quiet sound of irritation and grabbed the heart from Ivy’s hand.
“Doesn’t matter.”
Ivy slowly lowered her hand.
Celeste took a bite from the heart as she walked out of the hall area, keeping one hand extended to touch every surface she passed. The wall. The frame of a painting. The banister when they reached the stairs.
They made it down the stairs and entered the dining room.
It was empty now.
The long table had been cleared after dinner, though a few glasses still sat near one end, and the smell of cooked bread, cheese, and spices lingered in the room. Several pieces of high-end equipment had been arranged neatly on the counter along the far wall, likely waiting for Chelsea to decide what needed to be stored, sold, or have Adriane break them.
Celeste walked toward it at once.
Ivy followed, cautious and quiet.
Celeste picked up a bracer, turned it over in their hands, and inspected the craftsmanship with mild interest. Then she let it fall.
The bracer hit the floor with a heavy clatter.
Ivy’s eyes moved to it.
Celeste looked over her shoulder with perfect innocence.
“Oh,” Celeste said. “Slipped.”
She ran her hand along the counter as she walked, knocking another piece of equipment off the edge. Then another. Each one hit the floor hard enough to make the sound carry.
Her gaze stayed on Ivy the entire time.
“You know, elf,” Celeste said, “we are going to be taken away, right?”
Ivy’s expression tightened. “Yeah.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I hate it,” Ivy replied. She scratched lightly at her forearm, then seemed to notice the motion and stopped. “Obviously. I want to go with Chelsea.”
“Oh, I know,” Celeste said, voice soft with false sympathy. “Three years is a long time.”
Ivy did not answer.
Celeste moved to the dining room table and hooked their tail around the leg of a chair. She dragged it back just enough to make it scrape across the floor, then tipped it over. The chair landed on its back with a sharp crack.
“Can you keep all that devotion intact for three years?” Celeste asked. “Or will you find someone easier to hold onto while sweet little Chelsea is gone?”
Ivy’s eyes sharpened. “Of course I won’t.”
Celeste tilted her head. “Of course you won’t keep your devotion intact?”
“No,” Ivy said quickly. “That is not what I meant.”
Celeste’s smile widened.
Ivy took a breath and steadied herself. “I won’t betray her.”
“How noble.” Celeste tapped one finger against the table. “But you do understand what she’ll be surrounded by, don’t you?”
Ivy said nothing.
Celeste began to circle the table slowly. “Eleven strong warrior women. All of them powerful. All of them beautiful in their own ways. All of them training, sleeping, and…” She paused to look up at Ivy. “bathing in the same place as Chelsea.”
There was the smallest tension near Ivy’s mouth. A tiny flicker in her eyes when Celeste mentioned bathing. It was barely there, but it was there.
Celeste’s expression softened into something kinder than it had any right to be.
“I wonder how long it takes,” Celeste said. “A hard day of training. Everyone exhausted. Someone helps her with her armor. Someone touches our wings. Then the someone laughs when she blushes and calls her Chelsea instead of Havoc because they realize that is what she wants.”
Ivy’s hands curled slowly at her sides.
Chelsea felt a flash of anger from inside herself.
At Celeste for knowing exactly what buttons to press.
Ivy, Chelsea said from inside without taking control. Don’t listen to her.
“Oh, nothing?” Celeste asked aloud. “No reaction at all? Impressive.”
Ivy lifted her chin. “Chelsea would never betray me.”
“Wouldn’t she?”
“No.”
“Hmm.” Celeste made an unimpressed sound, reach for another chair with their tail and pulled it over. It crashed onto its side.
“I suppose that means you won’t mind that we are going to be paired with Passion,” Celeste said. “She is going to be with us all the time, isn’t she? Training with us. Watching over us. Sleeping nearby. Learning all the little things Chelsea tries to hide from everyone else. Celeste gasped, what if I let Passion ravish our body. Would that mean Chelsea is still faithful to you?”
Ivy’s eyes flicked toward the doorway for half a second.
Celeste almost laughed.
There was only a seed of jealousy, but enough to prove Ivy was not untouchable.
“Stop it,” Ivy demanded.
Celeste’s smile faded into satisfaction.
“Do you want to know something, Celeste?” Ivy asked.
Celeste turned fully toward her.
“I know Chelsea better than you do,” Ivy said. “You may see everything she does, but you don’t see who she is. Chelsea would never betray me like that.”
Chelsea smiled inwardly, so full of love and pride that for a second she almost forgot how furious she was.
That’s my Ivy.
Celeste felt it and hated it.
Before she could answer, the dining room door opened.
Passion poked her head in, likely drawn by the repeated crashes. The moment she saw Celeste standing beside overturned chairs and equipment scattered across the floor, she looked like she wanted to close the door and pretend she had never entered.
Celeste’s mood shifted at once.
She lifted one hand and beckoned her in.
“Just who we were discussing,” Celeste said, mimicking Chelsea’s sweet voice.. “Please come in.”
Passion hesitated.
She was still clearly remembering Chelsea’s breakdown from the bath the night before. Her eyes moved between Celeste and Ivy, then to the equipment on the floor.
“Okay, Ha...” Passion stopped herself. “Chelsea. I want to apologize for…”
“Oh no,” Celeste said, approaching her. “There is nothing to apologize for.”
Passion went still.
Celeste moved close and smiled up at her. “In fact, the elf and I were just having a little discussion about the future.”
Ivy’s expression became frustrated.
Celeste wrapped her arms around Passion’s middle.
The gesture was ridiculous. Passion wore a breastplate, so Celeste was mostly hugging polished metal. Celeste did it anyway, pressing herself close enough to make Ivy watch.
“About all the time you and I are going to spend together,” Celeste said.
Passion looked down at her, deeply confused.
Ivy’s jaw tightened.
“Passion,” Ivy said, her voice controlled but strained. “Meet Celeste. This is one of those secrets Adriane mentioned last night.”
Passion looked from Ivy to Celeste, then down at the demon girl still hugging her armor. “Is Chelsea drunk?”
“I’m not drunk,” Celeste said. “I’m the real Chelsea. The side of her that doesn’t let nice get in the wa…”
“Wrong,” Ivy interrupted.
Celeste turned toward her with a scowl.
Ivy stepped closer. “She’s not the real Chelsea.”
Celeste’s expression sharpened.
“You’re such a fucking disease,” Celeste spat at Ivy. “You and I both know you aren’t good enough for Chelsea.”
Passion looked even more confused.
Celeste had referred to Chelsea as if she were someone else. Passion caught it. Her eyes shifted toward Ivy, silently asking for help.
Chelsea took back control.
The change was immediate. Her arms released Passion, and she stepped back quickly.
“Sorry,” Chelsea said, voice softer now. “Celeste is my inner demon.”
Passion stared at her.
Ivy exhaled, relief and hurt crossing her face before she buried both.
“More like Chelsea stole my body,” Celeste replied after Chelsea let her get it out, her tone sharp enough that Chelsea’s mouth moved with the words.
Chelsea sighed. “You were dead, and it’s not like I chose this.”
Passion held up both hands. “Hav... or, uh, Chelsea.”
Chelsea looked at her.
Passion’s eyes moved over the overturned chairs, the armor on the floor, Ivy’s tense expression, and Chelsea’s embarrassed face.
“Are you a crazy person?”