[Shadow Hearts] untitled Valentine antics
First attempt at writing anything Shadow Hearts (aside from meme drabbles and RP) and of course it has to be about the Valentine family. No real spoilers for any of the games (especially given that it takes placce before SH3), unless you count knowing who runs the Lottery as a spoiler. It does help to know all three Valentines, though. 750-ish words, just random character exploration for me.
“Keith,” Hilda said, hands on her hips, “you need to stop moping.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Keith sighed, throwing an arm dramatically over his eyes. He lay sprawled over the pink divan in his sister’s sitting room, having decided that suffering in the silence of his casket was only interesting for so long.
“So your girlfriend got executed! I mean, she was a double agent, and nasty characters like that are bound to be caught and punished by some virtuous heroine eventually.” Hilda struck a dramatic pose, one hand pointing towards the sky and the other on her hip at a new, sassier angle. “Oh, if only it could have been me, capturing a dangerous German spy and saving the Allied powers! There wouldn’t have been enough left of the traitor for the firing squad when I was through with her! Evildoers will be punished by the power of Magical Hilda!”
“Hildegard,” Keith said faintly, “please stop talking about Margarete that way. I am trying to mourn her death.”
“She died three years ago!” Hilda said, stomping her foot in frustration. “Now get up off that sofa and have tea with me.”
“What sort of tea?” Keith asked, interested in spite of himself.
“I think it’s green tea? Joachim came in yelling about how he embraced the masculine spirit of Yamato and gave me some tea.” Hilda shrugged.
“You’re going to drink something Joachim dragged in the house?” Keith personally thought embracing the masculine spirit must have been a metaphor for Joachim indulging his less savory hobbies in Japan, but of course he didn’t say that to his younger sister.
“Well, tea’s been hard to come by, with the war and all.” Hilda decided that stomping the floor couldn’t possibly show Keith how frustrated she was, and so she kicked over the divan. (Sometimes, Keith reflected as he fell on the floor and the garishly pink bit of furniture landed on top of him, it was a bad thing to be the only one of the Valentine siblings not blessed with prodigious strength.) “Get up and spend some time with your neglected little sister! All you and Joachim do anymore is run around all over the world and leave me here! First you go off and save the world, and then you spend all the time you aren’t sleeping running your stupid lottery or moping about your stupid girlfriend!”
“Adults have to do adult things, Hildegard,” Keith said from under the overturned divan, not even bothering to free himself. It was too much effort-- and besides, he needed the shield, because Hilda started kicking at it angrily.
“There you go again, talking about how you’re so much better than the rest of us because you have a house and a job.” She sniffed and stomped off to the other side of the room, where she poured herself some tea. If her brother wanted to be stupid and think he was so great because he had a house and a job (never mind that his house was the castle she lived in, too, and his job was running the worldwide lottery), well, she’d let him. He’d be sorry when she was a motion picture star-- he’d be begging to come to all the parties she got invited to!
With Hilda safely on the other side of the room, Keith decided it was safe to crawl out from under the furniture.
“Don’t you ever dust in here?” He asked critically, flicking a disgusting amount of dust off his sleeve. “I think this jacket is ruined.”
“It’s your house, so it’s your job to clean it up,” Hilda said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Must you be so undignified, Hildegard?” Keith asked, taking off his jacket and wrinkling his nose at the damage the dust had done before folding it up and putting it aside on the overturned divan.
“You’re so prissy about everything, Keith,” Hilda said, dropping a liberal number of sugar cubes into her tea. “Maybe you’re the one who should be off embracing your masculine spirit in Yamato.”
Keith shuddered.
“Keith,” Hilda said, hands on her hips, “you need to stop moping.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Keith sighed, throwing an arm dramatically over his eyes. He lay sprawled over the pink divan in his sister’s sitting room, having decided that suffering in the silence of his casket was only interesting for so long.
“So your girlfriend got executed! I mean, she was a double agent, and nasty characters like that are bound to be caught and punished by some virtuous heroine eventually.” Hilda struck a dramatic pose, one hand pointing towards the sky and the other on her hip at a new, sassier angle. “Oh, if only it could have been me, capturing a dangerous German spy and saving the Allied powers! There wouldn’t have been enough left of the traitor for the firing squad when I was through with her! Evildoers will be punished by the power of Magical Hilda!”
“Hildegard,” Keith said faintly, “please stop talking about Margarete that way. I am trying to mourn her death.”
“She died three years ago!” Hilda said, stomping her foot in frustration. “Now get up off that sofa and have tea with me.”
“What sort of tea?” Keith asked, interested in spite of himself.
“I think it’s green tea? Joachim came in yelling about how he embraced the masculine spirit of Yamato and gave me some tea.” Hilda shrugged.
“You’re going to drink something Joachim dragged in the house?” Keith personally thought embracing the masculine spirit must have been a metaphor for Joachim indulging his less savory hobbies in Japan, but of course he didn’t say that to his younger sister.
“Well, tea’s been hard to come by, with the war and all.” Hilda decided that stomping the floor couldn’t possibly show Keith how frustrated she was, and so she kicked over the divan. (Sometimes, Keith reflected as he fell on the floor and the garishly pink bit of furniture landed on top of him, it was a bad thing to be the only one of the Valentine siblings not blessed with prodigious strength.) “Get up and spend some time with your neglected little sister! All you and Joachim do anymore is run around all over the world and leave me here! First you go off and save the world, and then you spend all the time you aren’t sleeping running your stupid lottery or moping about your stupid girlfriend!”
“Adults have to do adult things, Hildegard,” Keith said from under the overturned divan, not even bothering to free himself. It was too much effort-- and besides, he needed the shield, because Hilda started kicking at it angrily.
“There you go again, talking about how you’re so much better than the rest of us because you have a house and a job.” She sniffed and stomped off to the other side of the room, where she poured herself some tea. If her brother wanted to be stupid and think he was so great because he had a house and a job (never mind that his house was the castle she lived in, too, and his job was running the worldwide lottery), well, she’d let him. He’d be sorry when she was a motion picture star-- he’d be begging to come to all the parties she got invited to!
With Hilda safely on the other side of the room, Keith decided it was safe to crawl out from under the furniture.
“Don’t you ever dust in here?” He asked critically, flicking a disgusting amount of dust off his sleeve. “I think this jacket is ruined.”
“It’s your house, so it’s your job to clean it up,” Hilda said, and stuck her tongue out at him.
“Must you be so undignified, Hildegard?” Keith asked, taking off his jacket and wrinkling his nose at the damage the dust had done before folding it up and putting it aside on the overturned divan.
“You’re so prissy about everything, Keith,” Hilda said, dropping a liberal number of sugar cubes into her tea. “Maybe you’re the one who should be off embracing your masculine spirit in Yamato.”
Keith shuddered.