Zeroth Directive

Archive II

Following appropriate care, Miss Blodeuwedd very quickly regained consciousness. Her first point of order upon waking was to find her room, shoo all her relatives out of it (at the time, the five or so of them were waiting for her recovery in a room prepared for her), and get back to her works. Our administrative and medical staff felt this was confounding behavior, but Miss Blodeuwedd's Vouivran relatives seemed to be used to it. 'That's my daughter for you,' her mother stated. It followed a deeper investigation that we learned, each Vouivre of the group, temperamental by all rights had been beaten into submission after entering Miss Blodeuwedd's room without permission. Once her mother recounted this, she declared with half-embarrassment, half-pride that her girl had the best punches of their entire Vouivran generation. While we conversed, Miss Blodeuwedd had finished her own creation—a portable siege crossbow, which couldn't be carried out owing to the Operator dormitory doors being too narrow, so... with great ease... she broke through a part of the wall... Gossip says that an admin Operator on the scene very nearly called in our field Operators to take over the affair. It's fortunate that Miss Blodeuwedd only took the crossbow out, and the corridor could completely fit her along with her weapon. After that, we held a serious discussion with her, and she seemed to very quickly accept her present situation, but held no concern for our arrangements, her demands being very simple: once her illness was stable, let her get back into her home workshop, and back into her hobby, and if her illness got worse again, she'd come back here to get treated. Her attitude made administering her treatment greatly difficult for us, and in the end, the administrative Operators had no ideas either, so the best we could do was tour Miss Blodeuwedd around the areas catered to those staying aboard the Rhodes Island landship. Of course, we all know Miss Blodeuwedd is now a Rhodes Island employee; this total change of heart is completely owed to the work environment Rhodes Island built for its craftsmen, and a few experienced craftsman Operators. She had ample interest in our workshop facilities and said Operators, and went nowhere else afterwards, instead chatting with our craftsmen. Afterwards, Miss Blodeuwedd directly applied for Rhodes Island craftsmanship... with an Operator. Without a doubt, she had qualities that would make her a fine Operator, but we desired that if she became one, she would comply with our relevant regulations, which she very readily agreed to, even picking a codename for herself on the spot—Toddifons. 'Some people asked me before how Toddifons woke up, grasped her situation and made straight for the room with all her relatives and personal belongings. You wonder? Just look at her background and it'll make sense. There's a lot she can understand with a single glance, it's just that she doesn't care. She takes things as her temper tells her. Mystery solved.' —Operator commentary extract

Archive III

When Toddifons came aboard, she was in work overalls slathered with grease, hair roughly tied back in one go, fairly disarrayed. Following her becoming an Operator, on the very day she gained employment, she unprecedentedly took two days off and took to the streets of a then-nearby Victorian city. After two days, multiple cosmetics and two great big bags of clothes had found their way to her dormitory—one of work clothes, only worn for entering the workshop; the other was entirely trendy fashion which Toddifons had matched with some odds and ends, becoming the most frequent attire we saw her in, and immediately afterwards, the attire she wore to the battlefield. Our admin Operator in charge of managing fieldwork always seemed put out of sorts by Toddifons wearing such exquisite clothing on the battlefield, trying to raise countless lines of reasoning: the enemy might notice colors too bright, it'll affect the whole team's ambience, so on. All were rejected soundly by a 'none of your business' from Toddifons. In the end, to settle the matter, the two employed the time-proven, most effective method of resolving conflicts—they had a fight. Our beloved admin Operator lost very decisively. In two seconds? Three, maybe? He got dunked on the ground, and from then on wouldn't even raise his head when speaking with Toddifons. We can't blame him, though; before consulting her records, neither did we know that this girl who never saw eye-to-eye with orders was once a Cyr Military College student. Though reputation-wise the school is far from level with the Victorian Royal Guard, it still stands as one of the endorsed military colleges in Victoria's borders. Toddifons studied as a specialist combat force unit, her first-year report outstanding. The College's instructors had already picked up on her temperamental flaws, but still intended to have her focus on her education, believing their decades of experience could rein in the self-ruling Vouivre. Unfortunately, once the second year revealed artillery and siege courses to her, all the old boffins' efforts were very quickly and neatly dashed. During her second year, Toddifons suggested she change to the siege artillery course, which the instructors decisively refused, and after multiple statements of 'if you won't let me take it, then I quit' did nothing, Toddifons spent three months in the library, studying through her entire preferred course solo, and then bluntly submitted her withdrawal application at her final exam. While the instructors still thought to negotiate with her, she had long since left the college, and returned back home. 'It's actually very easy to figure out Toddifons' disposition. She might be rock-hard to budge, but if you treat her warmly, then in turn she won't be so... er, intense. But try to force her to do something? Hohoh, you're in for a treat. See, she's a Vouivre, AND she went to military school. Winning with her dukes is what she was trained for. 'Disobey does the burdenbeast who is compelled,' y'know. If you want her to do something, you'd better take it nice and easy.' —Operator commentary extract

Archive IV

As with Angelina, we haven't yet found any reason behind Originium crystal deposit differentiation, but as is clear, it simply doesn't matter to Toddifons. She even considers how to match her outfits to make even more prominent the crystals on her shoulder, as blazing red as her hair. We hold this 'open-minded' attitude of hers in high regard. Alright, alright, I just feel like praising her every now and then. To tell the truth, I imagine everyone who's come into contact with her before knows full well. Ask her what she genuinely cares about, and chances are it'll just be dressing up outside of the workshop, and manufacturing siege weaponry inside. Just as the records mentioned prior, Toddifons was carried here because after 'the flash of inspiration hit,' she spent too long in her room lost in research, and fainted from hypoglycemia. As best as I know, Rhodes Island at least hasn't had any 'Vouivre passing out in dorms'-type incidents, let alone by malnutrition. It's simply unheard of. You could starve any Vouivre for a month and they could still knock you flat. Odds are months would be insufficient to measure fainting by hunger. To return to the records, to our knowledge, Toddifons' Vouivre tribe has been rooted in Victoria for a hundred years already, her own generation being the third of Victorian citizenship, with little separating them from the locals anymore. After their tribe's Vouivre first settled in Victoria, they principally engaged in industry. The whole tribe started a factory in unison, accepting orders from the city, the Victorian Chambers of Commerce, and even foreign business organizations. If you grew up your whole life in surroundings like that, you'd surely be able to understand why Toddifons cares especially about such vast siege weaponry—who wouldn't want to ply a huge industrial marvel to smash the warships opposite to smithereens? But in reality, using such nation-grade weaponry is beyond her ability, and so the next best thing was to make a miniaturized, portable ballista, follow Rhodes Island all over, and test its performance, give it regular maintenance, upgrade and renew it—that is what's in her capability. She knows the limits of where her class may reach, understands what she can accomplish, what opportunities aren't her own. She'll strive for the boundaries of what she can do, and the rest she'll leave to undefined, trailless luck— —and her own fickle good temper.

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Toddifons

Archive I

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