Chapter 7: Mind over matter
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Joe blinked, and then blinked some more, before dashing frantically in front of the large silver mirror.

 

The reflection was still the same: A fair, freckled face with a messy braid and large, golden eyes widening in disbelief. The girl did a double take; she’d imagined that the real, regal looking Joanna Winsten would stare back at her through the glass, but all she saw was her the normal, undignified self in the young Lady’s body, panting like a dog and sweating like a pig.

 

What are you staring in the mirror for, you dunderhead? The voice quipped back, sounding insulted. I am a mere consciousness, not a vampire. I reside in your mind, not in that cruddy mirror, for Goddesses’ sake! You watch too many movies, woman!

 

“Geh?!” Joe let out a rather unladylike gasp, and clutched her head in wonder. Whatever nasty trick she’d imagined the reason behind the voice to be, the original villainess was not one of them.

 

When did she get in there? How did she get in there? What else is going on with my head that I’m not aware of, dammit?!

 

 

“My fair Lady,” Joe began seriously, “With all due respect, why on earth are you casually lounging inside my head?”

 

Well, haven’t you been lounging in MY body for a week now? I’d say that it’s a fair trade if I choose to stay in your mind at the same time, woman!

 

Joe paused, and thought that indeed it made sense, and decided to drop the matter. She was wondering how to actually converse with an entity that was living inside her mind, and then remembered that she’d been doing exactly that for the past few days. The incredulity of the situation wasn’t lost on her, but then again, when a living, breathing human could drop down like an Easter egg into a frigging video game, Joe supposed that anything was possible.

 

“H-Hello there, my lady. How do you do?” Despite her reservations, Joe was taught to be polite to strangers, no matter their --- ahem, living conditions, so she decided to begin with pleasantries first.

 

A bit late for that, isn’t it? The voice sounded almost amused.

 

“Ahahaha, I suppose so.” Joe laughed nervously. Contrary to what people around her believed, Joanna Stuart wasn’t really a social butterfly. She was a shrinking wallflower at best, and a sulking douchebag at the worst. And this Lady in question was of some pureblood noble lineage. Joe winced internally; the level of difficulty was too high for a peasant like her.

 

This was getting awkward real quick. How do you casually get chummy with noble ladies, again? Especially the ones living inside your head?

 

Then Joe remembered something weird. “Wait a minute! How do you know about movies? You people do not have television here in the first place!”

 

 Hmph! She imagined Lady Joanna flipping her hair over shoulders with an arrogant flick of hands. The image was strangely fitting. What do think? I took the liberty of going through your memories, woman. You common folks have such strange habits in your ‘modern’ world!

 

“Now wait just a minute there, dammit!” Joe stomped her foot in indignation, all awkwardness forgotten momentarily. “Who gave you the permission to do that? My mind isn’t a frigging rental video shop, for fucks sake!”

 

I do not need permission, woman! I do whatever I want with the mind I live in.

 

Joe squawked in disbelief.

 

“My name is Joanna Stuart, NOT woman! And what do mean whatever?! That is my sanity you’re talking about!”

 

Oh how noisy! I am dying of boredom her. The least you can do is let me watch your boring memories of your boring world, woman.

 

‘Well whaddya know, I don’t wake up in the morning to entertain you, you self-important prick!’ Joe thought angrily.

 

I heard that one, woman!

 

“Look here.” Joe sighed in exasperation, and finally decided to tackle one issue at a time. “My name’s not ‘woman’. It’s Joanna Stuart. Just call me Joe, will you?”

 

The voice went quiet.

 

“Please.” Joe pleaded. She’d never imagined herself pleading to the evil villainess of some cringy video game, but if they were to coexist for the time being, it was imperative that they worked in the same wavelength. Otherwise she suspected that she might really go mad.

 

Oh fine, fine. Joe it is, then, I suppose. The voice replied, strangely tame all of a sudden, and Joe smiled.

 This might have been an inconsequential thing, but it was a small step nevertheless. The underlying sass was till there, but it was good to see that this voice could be reasoned with.

 

True to her video game persona, Joanna Winsten sounded exactly like the haughty, immature villainess that the masses were supposed to hate. Joe did not actually intend to be a snivelling doormat in front of her, but decided to keep any such prejudices to herself. If this world was going to be their new reality from now onward, there was no point in judging a lady from the paper-thin plot of a 2D video game, villainess or not.

 

The lady Joanna Winsten, she thought, could keep watching her memories. Joe Stuart had more pressing matters to attend to. Like how to strike a deal with a whimsical villainess that didn’t look like the kind of person willing to cooperate.

 

 

“Thank you, Lady Joanna.” Joe said graciously, before pausing to think. How are you supposed to bring up the sensitive topic of 1,054,891 deaths with a noble lady who had died that many times?

 

In the end she decided to be straightforward. “Do you kindly remember how you died?” sounded very rude, but Joe didn’t know of any less rude ways of subtly asking that. The voice, predictably, said nothing at first, and then grumbled something along the lines of: ….I just do.

 

It sounded like the kind of excuse an old man would use when his wife asks him why he keeps forgetting to take his umbrella with him on rainy days.

 

In other words, it sounded defensive.

 

“Do you at least remember if anyone killed you?” Joe tried again, undeterred, and the quiet that followed made it seem like she’d stepped on a landmine.  This was getting nowhere, and Lady Joanna’s stubborn silence was beginning to mount suspicions over suspicion.

 

You’d think that after the few hundred deaths, the lady would find a way to avoid it. But here she was, unabashedly withholding information that could potentially save her life (and Joe’s as well, she hoped). Which brought forth the following three conclusions:

 

  • Lady Joanna had forgotten about the important details (‘The height of irresponsibility’, Joe thought)
  • Lady Joanna had tried, but failed to avoid her death all 1,054,891 deaths due to certain circumstances;

 

And the craziest one: 

  • Lady Joanna is purposefully trying to protect the person who’d killed her in the previous cycles.

 

The memories of the game rushed back to Joe just as she came to the last conclusion. She narrowed her eyes in anger. It had been over a month since she’d played the video game in that sleepover, but Joe remembered being momentarily shocked when she had witnessed the ultimate demise of the villainess on the screen.

 ‘Evil or not’, she'd thought back then, ‘No one in the world deserved to be killed like that.’

 

She considered being sympathetic for a grand total of two seconds, and then discarded the idea. She was never the sympathetic sort to begin with, and right now she was unreasonably angry. It was strange that she couldn’t decide on whose behalf she felt angrier, the villainess or herself.

 

“Your killer,” Joe asked the voice quietly, with gritted teeth. “It’s the second prince Emmanuel, isn’t it?”

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