"Dimitri, what are you doing?"
The red hologram - which currently resembled one of the frilly-dressed girls that seemed to be everywhere nowadays - looked down at Sean.
"I'm installing lasers," she replied.
Sean sighed. He really wanted to go back to bed. Sakuya had been woken up by the banging noises, and Sakuya had a way of channelling her displeasure at him in subtle ways.
"Why," he asked, "are you installing lasers into the mansion at 2 in the morning?"
"Marisa."
Sean's brow furrowed. "Marisa?" Then recollection emerged from the sleepy fuzz of his brain. "Oh, you mean the girl that keeps beating Meiling in fights?"
"Yeah, and coming in and stealing stuff and being a total bitch." There was a fizz of sparks from within the contraption attatched to the corner of the ceiling. "Well, let's see her waltz in when sixty thousand degree plasma death is pointed at her."
Sean arched an eyebrow. "Did Remilia give you permission to do this? Not that I care what she thinks, but modifying her home is -"
"She pointed me towards the scrapyard, buddy."
Sean tried desperately to cast his mind back to Christmas, where there was mistletoe and eggnog and food and presents and everything was slightly pink because Sakuya was being extra romantic. It seemed a very long time ago now. He'd like another day of that, and not this. He was starting to get cold.
"I don't think Meiling would like this," he said.
The tinkering stopped. "What?"
"You waking everyone up at 2 in the morning." Sean left "trying to fight her battles for her" unsaid.
There was a pause.
"In fact," Sean added, hoping Dimitri wasn't using his eyes at the moment, "I think that's her coming down the corridor right now."
Dimitri, expression fearful, vanished in a blur of red pixels. Sean nodded, and went back to bed and Sakuya. Snuggles were good.
---
A small town's Christmas was ruined when they woke up to find their town Christmas tree knocked over, the decorations torn and "inhale my dong santa" burned into the baseball diamond. There were also a lot more empty bottles of alcohol lying around than usual.
They blamed it on travellers, but without conviction.
---
The campfire was the only source of light.
"- back of the knee, boy. The Swine have weak legs, you see. Try it!"
The young man concentrated as he gripped his hands around the remnants of the schackles that danged from his body. With a grunt, he swung a length out, down low, and hit the leg of the dummy with a dull thunk.
"Good!" A heavy gauntlet patted him on the back. "Again. We'll see you get it down right before we turn in, or my name isn't -"
"We're going to die down here."
She turned away from watching the two men, old and young, and focused on the girl. Swaddled in her vestements, clutching her holy tome to her like a shield.
"And what makes you say that," she asked.
The girl stared blankly at her. "You know. You saw, back there. I mean, people eat pigs, yes?" A giggle crept into her voice, wild and unhinged. "So, so obviously the pigs eat -"
The slap came and she regretted it the moment it landed. Old habits died hard. The girl stared, eyes wide and cheek red.
"With that kind of talk we WILL die down here,' she hissed. " we're on our last set of firewood and our packs only have food for a few days. The last swine we fought cut the boy up badly. If you lose your fool senses now, nobody can heal him."
The girl's eyes shone in the firelight. Too harsh, perhaps. A crack of wood made their heads turn to see the ragged, chained boy beaming and the dummy's leg amputated.
"Look," she said. "I won't let anything happen to you down here. The Swine are not the worst horror we've seen here. We will make it."
The girl's voice was faint. "Promise me?"
"I promise you, S -"
"AMBUSH!" The old man roared, lionesque. His mace flashed into the night, there was a sick crunch, and a twisted, bloodied body fell into the light of the fire. In the dark beyond came squeals. Metal glinted. Red eyes leered.
The party drew weapons as, once again, the Swine fell upon them.
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