It had started okay, things had been fine for a little while. Around a month ago Charlotte had received a letter, it had been written in a neat cursive style which had immediately drew the faunus in. The subject of the letter had been... confusing to say the least. While the writing was indeed pretty and the paper felt as though it were quite expensive the content of the letter was lacking to say the least. Summed up the person had essentially said "Hello, you seem nice. Your spider legs are pretty. So are the rest of your spider parts. Goodbye," through the use of long and convoluted metaphors. The writer even seemed to repeat themselves with some of the metaphors, and while they had been flowery and nice in the beginning but by the forth or fifth they had lost their lustre. Charlotte hadn't thought much of the letter on that day, assuming it just to be a one time occurrence but a rather pleasant one. It was nice to be gifted a compliment when she was suffering so with her appearance. There was no return address, no name had even been given; even if she wanted to she couldn't thank this person. She'd set the letter down and went about her daily business, almost forgetting it by the time she'd woken up the next morning... and found yet another letter. The wording was different but the handwriting and paper was the same. Addressing her by name and paying her compliments on her lower half. A part of her body that yes she needed some positive reinforcement on, but this felt like too much... almost... obsessive. Nothing was mentioned outside her lower half Again there was no return address or name and again Charlotte pushed it to the back of her mind, went about her daily business, setting the letter with the other on her desk.
By the time she received the forth letter she stopped opening them. Upon receiving the tenth she threw them all out. It was only then that the letters paused in their frequency, for two days there was a bizarre silence of sorts, but on the third came something most unexpected. All of the letters she had thrown into the trash arrived through her mailbox along with an additional one with a wax red seal on the envelope. Opening it she found the same handwriting and paper she had previously experienced but the letter's contents were horrible. Anger emanated from the page, disgust that Charlotte would throw out these unwanted compliments; these letters she could never have returned and by the third didn't particularly want to return. It was at this point that Charlotte came to a realisation, it was the opposite to what she had experienced up till now. Until now people had wanted less than nothing to do with her, until now people would try to ignore her on the street or force her to leave... but now... someone was obsessing over her abnormality. And if felt just as awful. To be thought of in this way and fetishised, she couldn't tell if it was better or worse but regardless the two were comparably awful.
It was then that Charlotte became even more terrified of her surroundings. She had a person going through her garbage, coming to her door every day and perhaps more. She stayed up all night, heard and observed the letter slip in at precisely five in the morning, but didn't dare open the door. From the corners of her eyes she swore she'd seen a person watching her on her daily movements around town, she began to question all she had seen... that was until today. The twenty fifth letter had arrived and she would take this no more, she was stressed and scared. At six she gathered the letters, opened and otherwise, as well as one other item. She made her way from her quaint little home on the city's outskirts to the very centre; arriving at seven in the morning. Shops were just beginning to open, some people were heading toward work. Without hesitation she placed the letters she had gathered on the ground, the additional item her she had brought was a rather simple lighter. A thin sweat on her forehead, she knew today was going to be the day she did this. While she had the gal and the will to refuse these advances.
She threw the letters at her feet, opening those which she hadn't already before dropping them without reading, and flicked the lighter on. Dropping it on the pile and taking a good few steps backward the paper itself first ignited, a small fire began to slowly burn away the pages, but when the flames met the lighter's inner fuel source there was a small explosion. The fire was contained, on hard concrete so only the letters would burn and nothing in the surrounding area, but it's flames burned bright and turned the paper to ash quickly. The few people around had begun to stare at Charlotte, as if her body were not enough to draw their eyes. It was then, emerging from an alleyway, that he arrived. A tall man and thin man, dressed in what could only be described as a snakeskin suit and jeans, ran out from the dark and began furiously stamping down on the letters in an attempt to stop their burning. Without hesitation Charlotte, hands glowing white as she utilised her semblance, threw a mass of sticky web at his legs the instant the flames ceased in their burning. He squealed in shock, meeting the ground with quite the smack. The normally polite faunus now towered over him, eyes closed as she tried to keep herself at peace, she clasped her hands and stood a good five meters back from him; prepared to begin questioning. While she hated to create a scene she had decided if it would rid her of this man she would endure it.
By the time she received the forth letter she stopped opening them. Upon receiving the tenth she threw them all out. It was only then that the letters paused in their frequency, for two days there was a bizarre silence of sorts, but on the third came something most unexpected. All of the letters she had thrown into the trash arrived through her mailbox along with an additional one with a wax red seal on the envelope. Opening it she found the same handwriting and paper she had previously experienced but the letter's contents were horrible. Anger emanated from the page, disgust that Charlotte would throw out these unwanted compliments; these letters she could never have returned and by the third didn't particularly want to return. It was at this point that Charlotte came to a realisation, it was the opposite to what she had experienced up till now. Until now people had wanted less than nothing to do with her, until now people would try to ignore her on the street or force her to leave... but now... someone was obsessing over her abnormality. And if felt just as awful. To be thought of in this way and fetishised, she couldn't tell if it was better or worse but regardless the two were comparably awful.
It was then that Charlotte became even more terrified of her surroundings. She had a person going through her garbage, coming to her door every day and perhaps more. She stayed up all night, heard and observed the letter slip in at precisely five in the morning, but didn't dare open the door. From the corners of her eyes she swore she'd seen a person watching her on her daily movements around town, she began to question all she had seen... that was until today. The twenty fifth letter had arrived and she would take this no more, she was stressed and scared. At six she gathered the letters, opened and otherwise, as well as one other item. She made her way from her quaint little home on the city's outskirts to the very centre; arriving at seven in the morning. Shops were just beginning to open, some people were heading toward work. Without hesitation she placed the letters she had gathered on the ground, the additional item her she had brought was a rather simple lighter. A thin sweat on her forehead, she knew today was going to be the day she did this. While she had the gal and the will to refuse these advances.
She threw the letters at her feet, opening those which she hadn't already before dropping them without reading, and flicked the lighter on. Dropping it on the pile and taking a good few steps backward the paper itself first ignited, a small fire began to slowly burn away the pages, but when the flames met the lighter's inner fuel source there was a small explosion. The fire was contained, on hard concrete so only the letters would burn and nothing in the surrounding area, but it's flames burned bright and turned the paper to ash quickly. The few people around had begun to stare at Charlotte, as if her body were not enough to draw their eyes. It was then, emerging from an alleyway, that he arrived. A tall man and thin man, dressed in what could only be described as a snakeskin suit and jeans, ran out from the dark and began furiously stamping down on the letters in an attempt to stop their burning. Without hesitation Charlotte, hands glowing white as she utilised her semblance, threw a mass of sticky web at his legs the instant the flames ceased in their burning. He squealed in shock, meeting the ground with quite the smack. The normally polite faunus now towered over him, eyes closed as she tried to keep herself at peace, she clasped her hands and stood a good five meters back from him; prepared to begin questioning. While she hated to create a scene she had decided if it would rid her of this man she would endure it.