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The evolution of IV’s fanservice

It was a hot summer evening in the Arclight household. It had been a long day for young Christopher who was making his way to his bedroom for his daily hair brushing ritual. Hair brushing time was his favourite time because it allowed him to bask in the beauty that was his pale blue hair. Before he sat down, however, he made sure that his other two siblings weren’t about to destroy the house. After locking the kitchen and bathroom (and anywhere else IV had the potential of using to destroy the peace of the house), and concluding that III’s teaching the dog how to walk on two legs and IV sitting and watching were harmless activities (for the most part), he sat down with a big sigh of relief. Finally, some alone time.

Slowly he undid the small tie keeping together his hair braid and watched in pleasure as it unfurled, leaving his silky smooth hair to drape over his shoulders. Before picking up the brush, he combed his hair with his fingers to get a feel of how perfect his long locks truly were. With another sigh- this time to express his pleasure- he picked up his brush and commenced the ritual. Not too long after, a head of red and gold peaked out from behind the door and, had Chris been paying attention, he would have noticed it was IV and that he was, as always, up to no good.

Excellent, IV muttered to himself with a goofy grin as he turned to dash towards his room in which the fan was making a loud humming noise. I think it’s time I gave Chris a little taste of my FANSERVICE, he said menacingly as he bent down to unplug the fairly large contraption. When he got back, fan in hand, he heard Chris talking to himself- no, his hair- about how gorgeous and beautiful it was and how it was the only thing that deserved his attention. If anyone didn’t know better, they’d think he was talking about his significant other. With an inaudible chuckle, IV plugged in the fan to an outlet that was conveniently placed on the outside of Chris’ room. Cautiously, IV extended his arms into the opening with the fan grasped tightly in his small hands. With the settings set on the highest possible level, IV turned on the noisy fan and let the wind do the rest. All that could be heard over IV’s hysteric laughter and the loud mechanic buzzing noise were Chris’ muffled sobs and swears and the sudden cry of rage that sounded oddly like IV’s name. The rest, as they say, is history.