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spaceecoffe · 3 years ago

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The Owl House x Slavic Mythology, Part 2 (this one will be longer)

Okay, so in this post I will tell you about few things. First of all you need to know something: slavic mythology is hard to uncover. It is not so easy to find true informations about this like about Greek, Roman or Norse mythology. A lot of Slavic beliefs were twisted by christian propaganda (like in last post I told you about Domovoy bringing good luck to you house -> with a time christians started to tell a story about mean house demon Domovoy and that all the good things he did were actually done by Angels, ugh). It is also twisted by patriarchy that with time didn't want people to believe in some powerful female demons or goddesses.

Slavic mythology for sure was kinda like Boiling Isles: most of demons and nature wants to kill you in some strange ways, but there were also some good demons, good characters and good gods/goddesses. And when you search for some informations you need to remember this. I'm writing it here because one of characters in this post suffers from her story being twisted by christians and men. And you can also see influence of patriarchy in first part.

But lets start the main stuff:

1. Witches and Wizards

Oh, yes, first thing you can think of is a second episode of first season "Witches before Wizards" AND I LOVE IT. Why? Because it destroys traditional look on the witches and wizards, of course! But from the beginning.

In slavic beliefs witches were women who signed a pact with the devil and gained from it magic powers. They used it to turn other people lives into hell by hexes and all that stuff. It was hard to recognise them, but people say that normally woman drinks a glass of vodka (or apple blood!) on three times while witches do it in one sip! Also, if you look deep in their eyes you will see head of a goat. But it could be any women in yours surrounding: single one, old one, married, young... You couldn't trust any woman!

And that is the misogynistic view on witches. The truth is that witches were a wise women who helped other. They often were herbalists and healers in their villages. But people didn't understand how they did their "elixirs", they only knew they worked, so the ones that were jealous about their knowledge create this story about "terrible and scary witches".

At the same time there were Wizards. They were the ones that people looked up to. And it's all because Wizards used their magic for a science and not hexing people! Like, you know... The only thing women can do is to be mean to other people and only think about how to make others lives worse, while man think about more important stuff. But, fortunately, wizards had also some bad traits, like being too ambitious.

So when Luz goes to Boiling Isles it appears that it is full of witches. Not only women witches, but also men. And this is kind of amazing because we finally abandon this archetype of only women being witches. At the same time (in second episode) we can hear King saying:

"Wizards are only old people with glitter in their pockets"

Oh, how I love this! Why? Because there always been a discourse in the topic of magic. When magic was used from science (by wizards or by alchemists) it was good, but when it was coming from nature (used by witches or folks) it was satanic and scary. But here? Here everything is opposite. We know now, thanks to Lilith, that magic in Boiling Isles is highly bonded to the nature and it is used from it. That's why everyone there is called witch, regardless of gender.

Why it is so important for me that witches are cool on Boiling Isles and wizards are only having glitter in their pockets? It's because at the same time that witches were burned on piles in Poland (1600s), you could go on Cracovian Academy (now Jagiellonian University) and get education in being Wizard or Alchemist.

So yeah, this episode just destroyed the archetype of good and wise wizards against bad and wild witches which should happen more often. But until Tolkien's books will still be "best fantasy" I doubt we will se more of breaking this stupid rule (and also sexism in fantasy).

Also, fun fact, in this episode we see Radegast in clothes with stars:

and also we hear that he was "looking at the stars" when Luz came. I know that wizards are usually depicted with some star-theme, but he really reminds me of the legend of Pan Twardowski, the most powerful wizard in Polish (some says he was a German actually) history. He signed the pact with the Devil to gain his power but run away from him to the other side of the moon, were some says, he still lives. He also probably was a real person (Jan Twardowski) who worked on Zygmunt August's court as magician and astrologist, sometime between 1530 - 1570, while as I said, witches were burned on piles.

But let's move to the second thing!

2. Eda, The Baba Yaga

Oh, yes! You've seen this coming. And also it was greatly showed in this amazing post, which you have to read! But I will put in my tuppence here.

First of all, who was Baba Yaga? You heard about her for sure, but probably all of this were lies. Surly, she was the most powerful known witch. She could do almost anything with her magic and she also could brew any potion. As you probably know she lived in the house on chicken legs deep in the forest.

As for her look she was small, old with a big nose and a lot of wrinkles:

She doesn't look nice, does she? Isn't that strange that the most powerful witch in our beliefs has to be so "ugly" (ugh, I hate this word but I have to use it here I think)? The truth is that probably she never looked like this. Historians thinks that at the beginning she was one of the most important goddesses in Slavic Mythology. She was in control of life and death, she was the personification of nature and its power. Some people also believe that she was the one responsible for children initiation to adult life. One of the historians, Zygmunt Krzak, said:

"This is about the reviled figure of the ancient goddess, a characterisation created by religious and secular male elites fighting against matriarchal religion."

So now we can see how Eda works as alternative Baba Yaga from Boiling Isles.

First of all, she IS the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles. She lives deep in the forest and she is great at brewing potions. Everyone is scared of her but at the same time, if someone is in trouble, she will totally help. Also, in episode one of season two we can see how she actually care about animals (and probably all nature).

But, most importantly, she is against Emperor's rules. As I said in subsection 1, being a witch is all about taking your power from nature. And actually what Emperor is doing is fighting with this, just like christianity when it started to appear on slavic lands. Emperor forbids to use wild magic, he tries to cut witches away from nature. He makes them join covens that can control their magic so they are becoming more and more distant from the natural magic. And Eda is this one person on whole Boiling Isles that is against it and that's why Emperor's Coven tries to change her image so people would think of her as a scary and wild witch which should meet her punishment for being that close to nature.

Another thing that reminds me of Baba Yaga is, of course, how she took care of Luz and helped her to became the witch. This is how initiation of children looks like. Yes, Eda did this in her own way but if not for her, Luz would never went do Hexside and problady wouldn't ever found out about glyphs. So yes, Eda was that one witch who helped Luz, the child (or "her kid") to become real witch, and that is probably what real Baba Yaga was doing.

Also...

Yes, I don't have to comment that, you know what I'm showing to you. But I just want to remind you that Kikimores hate chicken so it naturally goes that Kikimora is on the opposite side to Eda, The Baba Yaga.

The last thing I want to add is that Belos clearly do the same thing to witches on Boiling Isles that christians did to slavic folks (and yes, a lot more cultures in the world but here I'm focusing on Slavs). That is why I am almost sure that he is a human, probably Philippe, because this is just what people of middle and west Europe always did to different cultures -> "Veni, Vidi, Vici" as Julius Cesar said.

Part 1

#the owl house #toh #emperor belos #the owl house emperor belos #eda the owl lady #eda clawthorne #luz noceda #the owl house luz #slavic mythology #baba yaga #baba jaga #the owl house x slavic mythology

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biracy · 5 months ago

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[ID: Person wearing a white t-shirt that says in black text "I have abandoned my search for truth and am now looking for a good fantasy." End ID]

Fantasy Tee by UnderHeaven333

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dennou-translations · 4 years ago

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Violet Evergarden Booklet 1

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

Index || Next →

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case.

Ann Magnolia and Her Nineteenth Birthday

There was a number of things I had to do on the special day called today.

I would wake up in the morning and check the weather. As if a tale were beginning, I would turn the curtains over and look outside the window.

The radiant daylight shone on my eyes. Today was sunny. Knowing that made me happy. That I had woken up enveloped in sunshine. That I didn’t have to worry about my letter getting drenched in rain. It was almost as if the truth of these facts was blessing the day.

——I’m happy.

Very happy.

I didn’t usually say this, but I felt like saying it today, so I whispered as I laid back down, “Good morning.”

Husky with wake, my voice echoed through the quiet bedroom. I wandered around in search for someone to have a conversation with from the words “good morning”. However, I couldn’t find anyone to hear them, so they pointlessly vanished somewhere.

If you were just by yourself, words would die as soon as they were born. I knew that as the truth of this world. Like flowers that withered without changing colors, like small birds that couldn’t endure the coldness of midwinter, my words would promptly die. After all, words were tools for people to communicate their intentions. So if there was no other party, they would all but die. That was evident.

There was no one who would reply to me with a “good morning”. There was no one in this house that would do a morning greeting, so if anyone were to say that this much was obvious, it sure was. But in my memories, someone whose voice I had already forgotten would return my words. In a warm and soft voice that was probably how my mother sounded, they would be returned to me.

“Good morning, Ann.”

——Good morning.

“Today is a special day, huh.”

——I know; I’d been counting them with my fingers.

“Your long-awaited birthday.”

With a nod, I stood up.

Today, I was turning nineteen. Twelve years had passed since I had been left all by myself when I was seven years old. I reflected thoroughly upon that reality alone and proudly.

I left my bedroom still wearing a negligee, heading to the spiral staircase. There were portraits hanging in rows from the staircase’s wall.

“My, you’re going outside dressed like this just because you’re at home?”

Decorated with pictures of family members, the wall used to be terrifying for me when I was a child, but it became less so after my mother was added to them. I would go up and down those stairs countless times every day, but the only spot that I would end up directing my gaze to for a few seconds was the portrait of my mother and my childhood self.

If, by any chance, there was strength to the thing called “love”, I thought, if there was a force residing within love, wouldn’t this image start moving one day, since it was the only one I looked at as if I were yearning for something?

I would end up embracing such fantasies.

“I won’t change, no matter how much you stare at me. By the way, doesn’t my complexion look a little bad in this portrait? I should have had more paint put over it.”

Of course, it was just a fabrication.

Having come down the stairs, I went to the front entrance, its door a little worn-out. I should call a repairer. The house was a living being just like me, and since it was already quite old, it was always broken somewhere.

“I also want you to tend to the garden. When was the last time you held a broom?”

As I came outside, I could see this place’s whole scenery. There was nothing but lush grassland and tree-lined roads. The idyllic sight was awfully boring, but above that, it was beautiful, so if you made a frame with your fingers, you would immediately have a scenic picture. In this entire area, there were no other houses in sight. Of course. This territory was under the control of the Magnolias, hence this view belonged to me, the family head.

As long as I didn’t sell or give it away, this landscape would never change. And, same as the previous family heads, I didn’t wish for it to change. Neither did I wish to leave this place. Even if I was all by myself.

“Ann, let’s take a look inside the mailbox.”

I took a look inside the mailbox. Perhaps because it was still early in the morning, there was nothing in it yet.

“It’ll surely be coming soon.”

Today was the day when I, Ann Magnolia, was born. Every year on my birthday, I would get letters from my late mother. Letters from my mother, who by now had become a portrait, would be delivered to me.

“There is no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

To be precise, letters with my mother’s feelings blown into them and ghostwritten by an Auto-Memories Doll would be delivered to me. It was a strange story, but a true one.

“Auto-Memories Doll”. Long had passed ever since this name caused a stir.

The creator was an authority in the field of mechanical dolls, Professor Orlando. His wife, Molly, was a novelist, and all had begun with the posterior loss of her eyesight. He then invented a machine to perform ghostwriting for his beloved wife and named it Auto-Memories Doll. Nowadays, people who worked as ghostwriters were also called Auto-Memories Dolls.

When I was seven, my mother, who was plagued with a serious illness, summoned a beautiful blue-eyed Auto-Memories Doll to our manor. She made her write several letters and hired a postal company to deliver them to me even after her death. She had been secretly planning out a few decades worth of birthday messages for her beloved daughter.

The person who had made this request was an oddball, but the ones who had accepted the job were quite odd themselves. Had they not imagined that someone would abandon it at some point? Had they sealed the contract for such a heavy, troublesome work without any refusal because they were horribly bad at their business, or was it because they were too nice? Having grown into a creditable lady and come to understand the world to a certain extent, I would ponder about such things. Surely, it was because they were nice. Thanks to them, even though I didn’t have a single relative now, at least on my birthday I could recall what being loved by someone felt like.

Just like that, I stood fidgety in front of the mailbox. Closing my eyes, I cleared off the dust on the box of my memories.

——I remember. That she had come around. That she would be over there, quietly writing letters. I remember the figure of that person and of my smiling mother. Surely, until I died...

That few-days’ time had been seared into my mind. Back then, my... Back then, Ann Magnolia’s frizzy hair was still short, and she was selfish and pretended to be taller. She was a helpless child. A very young one. How old she was? Seven years old. An age where one would still long for their mother. Her mother was the center of the world. If her mother died, she wouldn’t even be able to breathe. She was that kind of child. She was aware that her emotions were unstable and that she tended to act a little rashly.

Most people would treat someone like me nicely, and that was it. People who had their eyes on my fortune attempted to get close to me, but once they noticed that I had no intention to let them do so, they never showed their faces to me again.

That person—that person... Violet Evergarden. That Auto-Memories Doll was a bit different from other people, I thought...

Whenever I wondered what was so different about her, I would find myself thinking.

Back then, Ann Magnolia had fallen in love with a mysterious girl who had come around all of a sudden. It was a little girl’s romantic love out of adoration. She both hated and liked the Auto-Memories Doll who had come around out of the blue and stolen her time with her mother.

——What was it that I liked about her?

She was a taciturn and unsociable. A silent porcelain doll. She seemed extremely adult-like. But looking back, she often reacted like a child who knew nothing. Even when I gave her dolls, she didn’t know how to play. Neither did she have any knowledge of how to solve riddles. Even when I made her touch bugs, she never ran away like my mother or our maid. Whenever I invited her to join hands and spin around, we would do it to no end.

“Fufu...”

She was a weird person. Yes, a weird one.

Children would look at adults and measure them by whether they were scary or foolish, would be their allies or enemies, would give them candy or not, and other such things. They would stare very, very fixatedly and judge the grown-ups.

She... that beautiful Auto-Memories Doll... Violet Evergarden was not an adult.

——Yes, she was... how should I put it? She was Violet Evergarden.

Which was why I had snuggled up to her, the same type of person as myself, just like two cats nestling close to each other, I thought.

She was a beautiful child. A beautiful beast. I found her eccentric self to be cool, so I liked her.

Where was she now and what was she doing, I wondered.

I was turning nineteen, but back in the day, she must have been younger than I am now. For her to have prosthetic arms, it wasn’t hard to imagine what had happened to her at the time, when the war had just ended. But surely, there was no doubt that her life had been full of many more ups and downs than the story I had in mind.

Did she not express her emotions enough because she was carrying some sort of wound in her heart? She was such a beautiful person, so she must have won over the heart of some wonderful person by now...

I shook my head left and right. I mustn’t have unjust suspicions of her. I shouldn’t prod into how I was back then – into the Ann Magnolia of back then – and taint it. Even if it was just me with myself, I mustn’t do that. Because all of the joys and sorrows from that time belonged to the old me, who had endured those days. Having become an adult, I shouldn’t have any say over the mental landscape of my old self, as a third party.

Having grown up, I observed my own land, which spread out endlessly. The scent of gently swaying grass and flowers, the chattering of birds, the clouds that moved slowly in the blue sky. It felt like they would be here just like that for a hundred more years.

“It’s not coming, huh. Let’s go eat breakfast.”

Since the postman wasn’t showing up, I had no choice but go back into the manor.

I had been working at home lately. I used to go outside and enjoy the world when I was a student, but I realized that, in the end, I liked being in my house. Maybe this was a Magnolia bloodline thing.

As for my from-home job, I worked with legal counseling. When I was little, I had experienced disputes amongst my own relatives over me and my assets. That was the reason why, if I had to give any.

My mother had left me with a talented legal advisor. A person of outstanding character, who still concerned himself with me even now. As a young child, I excelled at catching insects that I had never seen before, but I didn’t have the means to oppose to the people who wanted to steal this land from me one way or another.

I had started off working at the city’s legal information center, introduced to me by the legal advisor, who had taken me in, and only recently had I become independent. Living in the city had made me realize many things. That there were many people in this world who weren’t protected like me. And that this wasn’t something those people themselves wanted, but things had turned out in such a way due to the environment they were in.

The ascension of the ghostwriting business had a similar background. Children would be made to work like adults, unable to go to school, so when they grew up and had to sign any documents, they couldn’t even write their own names.

People like that, who had been raised in environments where no one helped them, weren’t a rarity. I had heard that the literacy rate was currently rising, but it would still take a long time for this to become something unusual.

Just like with ghostwriting, one could become somebody’s ally through the law. It was especially necessary for children who had been thrown out like me and younglings who were about to enter the world of adults, I believed. Because they could earn completely different futures as a result if they acquired knowledge.

“The law is a weapon,” my legal advisor would say. I agreed with that. My property had been protected by this weapon many times. Some people would say that education was the weapon, but the situations for putting it to use were too limited. Weapons exerted their true value exactly when you had to protect yourself from falling victim to unjust acts or insults.

If possible, I wanted to be someone who could protect others. I wanted to tell people who didn’t know what to do and had become incapable of even walking on their own, “It’s all right; I’ll be your ally”. Because I wanted someone to do that for me back when I was alone.

My reason for choosing law was rooted in this kind of self-righteous way of thinking.

Since I worked from home, I didn’t earn much. To be honest, people would think that being a professional was a pastime for a landowning wealthy lady. I was fine with that.

The people who came to visit me in this remote place were generally in critical situations and had nothing. Those who had something would go to the city. They would go to the city, bow their heads to some famous person, be served a fine brand of tea... and have a graceful conversation while drinking it.

If I could, I wanted to get close to people, just like her. Just like the Auto-Memories Doll who had told me on that day that it was okay to cry. Even if for self-satisfaction.

Speaking of which, I thought as I checked the calendar. Today was my birthday, so I intended to wait for the postman the whole day and hadn’t scheduled any appointments, but a client was coming tomorrow. I should clean up the reception room at least a little.

“Hey, Ann. It is your birthday, so how about going outside with your friends and having a meal with them?”

I had to sweep the floor, take the garbage off the carpet and dust the dirt on the furniture.

“Even just eating something tasty is enough, Ann.”

Right, I should bake some sweets to serve to the costumer tomorrow. It could also be used as celebration for my birthday.

“Ann, aren’t you lonely all by yourself?”

If I was certain, that person had eaten the sweets I baked when we first met with relish. He had a sweet tooth.

As I recalled the figure of that young entrepreneur eating, looking embarrassed and delighted, a smile surfaced naturally. Out of the people that I was currently engaging with, he might be the one whose visit I looked forward to the most. I did think that men were frowny and sullen creatures, but he was adorable.

I rolled up my sleeves with an “all right” and headed to the kitchen.

“Delivery.”

As the front door’s bell rang and the voice of a visitor ensued, I frantically flung away my bowl and whisk and ran. This is what happens when you distractedly make sweets for about an hour. I was covered in flour and looking unbecoming, but there was no helping it.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

I opened the door in high spirits, and standing there was a postman wearing the uniform of the city’s post office, which I was familiar with. I was disappointed enough that even I myself would think it was a bit childish of me. The other didn’t see my facial expression as he requested my signature for the express delivery without looking at me, but I wound up having an impolite attitude.

——It wasn’t the CH Postal Company.

My mother’s birthday messages were being kept by the CH Postal Company, a mail company that had its main office located in Leiden – the capital of Leidenschaftlich, a southernmost military nation. Therefore, if a different company had come, then the mail wasn’t from my mother.

“Thank you very much.”

I had received three packages. One was a table clock from my legal advisor. The others were accessories and a shawl that were trending in the city from my friends.

There were people getting married and having children upon turning nineteen. All of my closest friends had been quick to marry. Both my opinion that secluding themselves in their homes was a waste in this era of professional women and my envy at the fact that they had found themselves a partner in an early stage of their lives coexisted in the depths of my mind.

“You don’t have to hurry; if you don’t want to do it, you don’t have to.”

Having lost my mother, with this vast land and this manor of excessively elegant exterior in my possession... I couldn’t think that having a family wouldn’t be a good thing.

——Family... family... family, huh?

Did I want a family? Did I really? Those genuine questions surfaced in my mind first-thing.

Welcoming a family would mean welcoming that person’s life. It was an extremely heavy choice. “In health and sickness,” people would lightheartedly say. I believed there were actually few people who properly understood it.

My friends who had married. The people who walked around the city. Lovers and family members from all over the world – everyone. Did they all truly understand? They only looked on the happy side, so could they endure it when a sad scenario arrived upon them? Wouldn’t they end up thinking that not loving the other person would have been better?

“Human beings are creatures that love others in pursuit of happiness, Ann.”

In my experience, since I had seen off the person who was most important to me, the truth was that I didn’t want to go through it ever again. Being told to do it one more time was too hard. Even twenty years later, painful things would be painful.

I brought my consciousness back to reality.

Colorful ribbons, extravagant wrappings and wonderful gifts. As my social disposition was coming to a slight halt, those people were irreplaceable to me. I had to write thank-you notes right away. For these kinds of things, the faster, the better. Because it conveyed sincerity.

I should go back to my bedroom and look for the stationery and envelopes. They were surely somewhere there.

“Ann.”

——Aah, but was it a pretty stationery?

Maybe I should choose a different one, fitting of these wonderful presents.

“Ann, listen.”

They were surely items that took a while to be picked, so I should respond to the other party’s feelings the same way. There were many things to be watchful of here. I had to do it quick. I had to do it soon.

“Please listen.”

Nobody else was going to do it; I was the one who had to. No matter what, I had to do it. I had to taste joy and sadness all by myself and end it fast. Because I was alone. Hurry. I had to hurry and do it.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t move.

“Ann.”

I was in the middle of making sweets, and writing thank-you notes required some preparation. Above all, I couldn’t calm down until my mother’s letter arrived.

Giving several reasons, I made up several excuses not to move.

“Ann... it’s okay.”

I suddenly felt exhausted. Everything became a bother. Even though hands were covered in flour and I was still wearing an apron, I lay on the couch, rolled into fetal position and scrunched down.

Although I had received such marvelous gifts, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. Even though it was something to be grateful for to the point I could be in a good mood the whole day, the feeling of happiness didn’t last. It didn’t last.

“Ann, it’s okay.”

Today was that kind of day.

“Ann, don’t force yourself; I’m sorry.”

——I’m sorry.

“Sorry...”

——I’m sorry.

“Ann, I’m sorry...”

To me, my birthday was...

“...for leaving you behind when you were so small.”

...not my day. It was my mother’s.

——Mom. Why? Just why? Why, Mom? Why did you die sooner than the mothers of the other kids? What is it that went wrong? Did the fact that I was born itself become a burden to you? If so, then I shouldn’t have been born.

I loved you, Mom. Did you know that? I liked you a whole, whole lot. Tired of hearing this? But you didn’t know it, right? Even if you knew, you probably didn’t understand how much I liked you. I’m sure you had no idea how much.

When I realized it, I had more time seeing you in a grave than otherwise. But you’re everywhere in our house. On the sofa that you often sat on. In the music that you enjoyed. On the bed that still smells like you. In myself, who resembles you more and more with each day.

Mom, Mom, Mom – you keep reminding me of how much I loved you. When I was little, you were the world itself.

Mom. You loved me. I know that. But I loved you too. I was the one who... I was... I was... I was the one who...

Aah, Mom. Mom, there are so many things I want to tell you. But if I can say it, there’s just one thing.

Mom, you died without knowing how much I loved you, right?

I loved you much more than you could’ve imagined. I really, really suffered when you died. Enough that I couldn’t breathe.

People often say that time heals all wounds. But I really hate that saying. Rather than things being solved, we forget about them, don’t we? People’s voices, facial expressions, gestures – we forget these kinds of things. Yet I remember them in unexpected times. Like, “Oh, yeah, Mom used to like this”. “Oh, yeah, Mom used to hate that”. And then I blame myself vehemently for forgetting them. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your whole world”. Like, “How could you have forgotten? She was your only family”. The loop of agony has no end.

I adored you, Mom. I loved you. I loved you, so for just as much love as I had for you, it feels like my heart will break. It feels like my heart will break every time my birthday comes around. Feels like it will break. It’s painful and there’s no helping it.

Tears slip down my cheeks as I laid on my side. I was looking forward to today so much that I didn’t know what to do with myself, and yet I wound up crying again this year. I would’ve been great if I could welcome it with a smile.

A birthday was a special day.

It was nothing to the rest of the world, just an ordinary day, but it was a special one for me. Because... Because it was a day when I could feel Mom coming back to me. I looked forward to it so much that I couldn’t help myself, but at the same time, I was also helplessly sad. Because I felt my mother’s absence more than anything. Because the truth that she wasn’t here was thrust onto me.

Destiny spoke to me. Either that or God did. “Hey, your mother’s already dead. How long you gonna be crying? Stand up. If you’re alive, stand up.”

Since the world was so merciless, all I could do was nod at those words and say, “Yes, yes, true.”

By entrusting my body to hecticness, I was able to remain as someone who could stand on her own feet, just like Destiny and God wanted. I normally didn’t feel loneliness. I didn’t cry. After all, twelve years had already passed. It was weird to cry like this on and on forever. It was weird, right? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I shouldn’t cry too much. That would make me a bad girl. A girl wasn’t suitable to be the family head of the Magnolia household. I had to become a person who my mother could be proud of from within that portrait.

Wasn’t that right? I couldn’t prove the worth of my existence by doing anything else.

But on this day when I was aware that my mother loved me, I was no good. No good. I’d turn into a mess. The seven-year-old Ann Magnolia would come back to me. She’d say it all. She’d end up saying it. Always, always, always. She’d say what I was holding back from saying.

“I’m lonely”, that is.

I had as many ways of spending my birthday as I had birthdays. Surely, there were millions of people in the world whose birthday was today. How were all of them spending it? Were they spending it in a fulfilling way? There definitely were also people who lived their lives either not knowing when their birthday was or forgetting about it.

So I wasn’t miserable. Nor was I comparing myself with them. That wasn’t it. Because there were certainly people somewhere around the world who were feeling as lonely as me.

There was another thing that I had learned during the time I worked in the city. That loneliness wasn’t something only I had. Many people would come to the law firm and ask for advice regarding their troubles. Everyone was burdened with problems of their own. And everyone was a bit lonely in some aspect. It wasn’t just me, so I didn’t feel lonely.

That person too, and that one, and that other one. Everybody was sad in one way or another.

“I have to get up.”

I had stopped doing what I would do by accident – stopped throwing myself into a sea of sadness. The sea of sadness in my head was a real nuisance, yet it was also comfortable as it enveloped my body in gentle waves of self-pity. But I shouldn’t go too far. Or else I wouldn’t be able to stand up again. It wasn’t like food and sweets would materialize from my sadness.

I counted the things I had to do. Bake sweets. Clean up. I had a number of torn aprons, which I would remake into rags. And then... And then...

“Madam Magnolia, are you home?”

A real-life happening immediately pulled me out of my reverie. I ran toward the front door, from where the voice had come. As I opened the door with much vigor while making extremely improper heavy-feet noises, I found two visitors.

“Hum?”

One of them was... Aah, I was waiting for you. It was a postman wearing the CH Postal Company uniform. He was holding under his arm a letter and a package with what was most likely the gift that my mother had arranged for today.

“Aah, excuse me. Please go first.”

The other was the customer who had made an appointment reservation for tomorrow. A stray young entrepreneur. His finely tailored clothes were easy to recognize as something not order-made and that he didn’t like but was wearing regardless.

Had he mistaken the appointment day?

“Erm, then...”

The two had bumped onto each other at the front gate and both had some business with me, so they were probably conceding the turn to one another. Having been granted it, the CH Postal Company’s postman stood before me, politely giving me the letter and present with a slightly tensed-up countenance.

“This is the CH Postal Company. I have come to bring your delivery... You might be already tired of hearing this vocal message so many times, but happy birthday this year too, Madam Magnolia.”

That was a postman I had never seen before. It was a different person from last year.

“T-Tired, you say... There’s no way I would ever be.”

Still, the fact he was saying these lines meant that the demands commissioned by my mother were being properly kept and protected by that company. That was it.

“Thank you very much. For every year, truly... truly. Please tell this to your chairman too.”

“Y-Yes! Our president is the kind of person that gets very happy at inputs from the clients, so I’ll make sure to tell him!”

I had never met the president of the CH Postal Company, but for someone so young to be talking about him in such a familiar-sounding way, he had to be a wonderful person.

“I’m taking it.”

I signed the acceptance document. The postman laughed as if relieved. Also relieved, I finally looked seriously at him. He was a very young postman. Perhaps from about the same generation as me. The freckled boy looked even younger when laughing.

“I became in charge of it this year. It’s a big area, so I ended up getting a bit lost... I made you wait a lot, didn’t I?”

“Eh, no, no.”

“But you came running as if you were eagerly waiting for it.”

“Yes.”

Recalling the surprised faces of the two young men the moment I had opened the door, I trembled with shame. I was supposed to behave elegant and beautifully as the head of the Magnolia family. Yet I was covered in flour, my hair was disheveled because I had been lying down and I had showed up with footsteps that sounded like the ones of a large man.

Touching my cheeks, which were most likely growing red, I said, “I apologize for showing you an embarrassing sight... No matter what, I always wind up restless on this day.”

“Absolutely not. I’m the one who is sorry for coming late. I have already perfectly memorized the way, so please treat me well next year too.” The postman bowed with a “well, then” and ran toward a parked motorcycle.

After seeing him off, I directed my gaze at the other visitor that had been waiting for me. He, too, slowly looked my way.

“Hello.”

The morning sunshine had disappeared, a dazzling midday light filling up for it. It seemed that quite some time had passed while I was sulking on the couch. With a season of fresh green colors as the background, he was supposed to be a foreign body for me... and for this world of mine, yet he blended appallingly well into it.

“Hello.” My voice sounded a little shrill. “Isn’t there any flour on my face?” As I said this while rubbing my cheeks with the sleeve of my dress, he took a handkerchief from his jacket and handed it to me.

Not minding me as I stiffened up in shock, he said with an earnest attitude, “There is, right here.”

“Ah, all right.”

“And here too.”

“I’m sorry. I was making sweets...”

Wiping myself with the neatly folded handkerchief, it almost seemed like I had gone back to being a child. It was the second time today that my cheeks were dyed red.

“Well, what is your matter...?”

“Aah, that’s right. I was nearby and... hum, I heard from Mr. Robert, the one who introduced you to me, that it was your birthday today, so... though it’s presumptuous of me, I was thinking about celebrating it...”

Robert was the law advisor who had been protecting me since my childhood. Now that he had mentioned it, I remembered that he was introduced to me by Robert. The budget wasn’t compatible with the case, so it had been passed over to me.

——“Nearby”?

Finding a strange point in a part of his story, I said timidly, “This whole area... is my land... You had business near here?”

Silence.

“You’re also seeing Mr. Robert even though you’re working with me...?”

He raised a hand my way as if to ask me to wait and averted his face, looking embarrassed. Had I said anything bad?

“I take it back.”

“All right.”

“I lied... I wanted, hum, to spend time with you somehow...”

“Haah...”

Perhaps having become unable to look at me in the eyes, he kept his face turned away and continued speaking to the direction of the day after tomorrow, “Mr. Robert is a teatime friend from a café that I already frequented... He introduced you to me as a favor... And I heard from him the other day that today was your birthday. Also, I did not just happen to come nearby. It’s impossible to come here without a car or carriage. I do not have much money, so I ended up walking the way here. But it was no coincidence; I came here because I had an objective.”

As I asked, “What’s the objective”, he turned over the palm that had been telling me to wait and showed it to me. That “it’s you”.

I was perplexed. This kind of thing hadn’t happened in my life very often. When it did, it was usually people aiming for my fortune, so I vaguely wondered if he was the same as them.

“Want to come in? If it’s just drinking tea together, then...”

In any case, as the head of the Magnolia family, I had to entertain the guest. After this thought worked its way to me, an alarm sounded in my head that he might deem this as an invitation. That wasn’t my intention, so what should I do if he believed it was?

——What’s up with me? I don’t know if I’m happy or scared.

Aah, my heartbeats were so loud. My cheeks were so hot it felt like they were burning.

——Anyway, I have to say something.

“Hum.”

As I hesitated to speak, he shook his head. “Ah, no. I will have to come again tomorrow, so I’m going home. I have already accomplished my objective.”

“Is that so?” I was a tad out of tune. A little – very relieved.

I observed him while he didn’t try to look at me even a bit. His hands were trembling. Even though he gave off an easygoing impression, he was the type of person who couldn’t hide what was inside.

“I really just came here because I wanted to wish you happy birthday. Just before coming, I hesitated a lot on whether to go today or not... I also don’t have... any presents worthy of a lady like you, so I wanted to at least say these words.”

That sentence surprised my already stunned self even more. “At least these words”, he said. Were there any words that could make his goodwill more obvious?

“I’m sorry. I should have at least arranged something for you, right? Really, a broke man like me showing up out of nowhere... I’m sorry...”

“No, I don’t want material things that much... I prefer this feeling of... wanting to celebrate because it’s my birthday... much more...”

The words cut off midway. What happened to me? Right now, pain and joy were squeezing my chest tightly. It was suffocating.

The easily perceivable love of this person in front of me, as well as his kindness, his sincerity and all these other soft and warm things were appearing in the lonely parts of me and causing me to feel dizzy.

“Ann, can you hear me?”

I had to regain my sanity; I would surely be sober again tomorrow. I shouldn’t open my heart so easily now.

“Ann, please, listen.”

Because the world was cruel. Even if I fell in love with him, sad things were bound to happen.

“Okay? If you’re listening...”

It might be a calculated love; he could just be pretending and was actually a horrible person.

No, I had to wonder about that. It was indeed true that he came the way here on foot. After all, his shoes were dirty with mud. There was grass sticking to it as if he gone through an animal trail.

“If you’re listening, grab onto it.”

Aah, Mom. From now on, I would surely keep questioning you over and over during times like these. Asking you questions in my mind. “Mom, is this correct? Is this the right path,” I would ask. Because you were the only one who had given me love without second intentions. So please, give me an answer.

“Believe in yourself, Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.”

I was sure that the vision of my mother had whispered this to me.

I reached out with my hand. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his jacket.

“I’m going to bake sweets now. Today is my birthday, but I don’t have any plans, so if you’d like, why don’t we eat the baked sweets together outside? I don’t need anything. If you’re going to give me something, then I want just a bit of time for us to celebrate my birthday together,” I told him.

“Thanks.” He was not unkind to my wheat flour-covered hand, grasping it while his face went bright red. “That’d be great,” he said three or so times. The phrase “I like sweet foods” was probably said five times.

I... I found it so funny that I laughed.

That day was a special one for me, but to the rest of the world, this was not the case. But I put in a little effort. I tried making it special on my own. From this point onward, I would definitely keep doing that. I would. I was all alone in this manor. But I was the most special girl in the world to a certain person. It was okay to indulge myself at least on my birthday. I thought this once again reading my mother’s letter later.

Ann, congratulations on your nineteenth birthday. I can’t imagine how you’re doing at nineteen years of age. I really wonder how you’re doing. Are you well? Aren’t you going hungry? I wonder if you became a wonderful lady. Aah, I want to see it. I truly wanted to see it. You have no idea how much I love you, do you? You see, Mom loves the nineteen-year-old you. I’ll love you even as you turn a hundred years old. I can’t tell you face-to-face, so I’m properly writing it here. I love you. No matter what anyone says, I love you. You have the right to be loved. My Ann, be free. My Ann, laugh with joy. My Ann, be happy. My Ann. Don’t be afraid of love.

—From Mom

“There’s no such thing as a letter that needn’t be delivered, Milady.”

#violet evergarden #veedit #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoani #kyoto animation #ann magnolia #clara magnolia #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation #violet evergarden booklet

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writings-of-a-crazy-lady · 4 years ago

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Invisible Ties

Word Count: 2,249

Chapter 14

My fingers glided across the ivory, the simple melody that I knew encasing me in a fantasy world. I was lost in my mind, unaware of my surroundings or those that came and went. I had a few human “maids” that would often check on me, asking if I needed any water or food. But I was entranced in the song, humming the words that I had practiced over and over again in school when I was able to attend.

Music was always an escape for me. Always a way for me to slowly lose myself, forget my troubles and pain. Even when I was nothing in my mind, in the world of song, I was something. I could sing away my troubles, my broken heart or soul. I was able to disappear and become something. Prove all of my bullies and cruel mother wrong in just a few minutes.

I heard the door open to the room, but my fingers did not stop the melody as I allowed my hands to move across the keys. I never allowed the words to fall from my lips, merely humming the tune until I felt hands touch my shoulders. I quickly stopped playing the piano, allowing the unfinished notes to ring in the air that left me feeling a bit uncomfortable.

“Yes?” I looked up, spotting the crimson gaze of Marcus.

“You seem troubled, little one.”

“Is it that obvious?” I sighed, scooting over to allow Marcus a chance to sit on the bench with me. He took the hint, sitting close to me. I had closed my eyes, but I could feel his concerned gaze upon my face, as if he was searching for an easy answer to his many questions.

“Not obvious, mia amore. I can feel the disturbance. It is slight,” he quickly corrected when I looked at him, my immediate discomfort of the others knowing that I was unhappy showing. “But none the less there.”

“I guess I can’t keep it a secret, can I?” I sighed heavily. Aro could easily discern it if my power did not block him and now Marcus seemed to feel our connection and could sense if something was wrong. All that is left is for Caius to have some secret ability at discerning my emotions and then it would be a losing battle to deal with my discomfort alone.

“Never keep secrets from us. If anything, then you can tell me whatever is bothering you. I do not judge, little one.”

“Why do you keep calling me that? Little one? Do I seem small to you?” I tried to change the subject, distract him somehow, but Marcus was as attentive as ever. His eyes gave that much away.

“I am much taller than you,” he pointed out, reminding me how short I was. I nodded before sighing again, glancing down at my hands before staring straight at a wall. I wasn’t sure how to tell him. How to explain my discomfort at what had transpired recently. After my panic attack at the pool, I spent the rest of my evening contemplating everything since I spent much of it alone. And being alone was apparently dangerous since I overthought everything. Every little detail of my life, my body, my hobbies…. All of it. And honestly, I was second guessing their attraction or their faith in me. Which was easy since my confidence was non-existent and the Volturi had a high level of it.

Still, I found myself unable to form the words, much less look at him. How would he feel if I told him that I had zero faith in them? That their affections could not be true? Marcus would probably feel hurt more than anything. Something I didn’t want him to feel. But I couldn’t help this doubt, no matter how much I wish I could.

A soft melody began to play, immediately gaining my attention as I turned to look at my partner. It was a tune I did not expect Marcus to know, yet he played it none the less. Long fingers glided across the ivory keys as I found myself hearing the words in my mind. It wasn’t a popular broadway musical, in fact, it flopped quite horribly. It didn’t live up to the expectations of its predecessor but one particular song always stuck with me…

“~Who knows when love begins? Who knows what makes it start? One day it’s simply there, Alive inside your heart.”

I started the tune, the words quick to fall from my lips. I didn’t realize I had gotten his attention, not seeing how Marcus’ gaze focused on me. He just continued the melody as I sang the song, the words meaning something to me.

It was simply about love. How it ensnares those around them. Love was a mysterious emotion, never knowing how it begins or ends, if it ends at all. And the fact that it can cause you great pain and lonely… Love itself was a confusing thing. It could bring happiness and destruction all at the same time. And in the end, it still endures. Even through all the breakups, there was always a little bit of love left.

During the song, as I allowed the music to consume my everything, I had allowed my eyes to close once again. My mind emptied of all my worries, every single thought slowly ceasing in my mind until nothing but a blank slate was there. Just the words of the song and the emotions I was feeling. And during that time, an audience began to form. Just 2 individuals, but still, an audience nonetheless. Something I wasn’t quite use too…

The melody surrounded me, my voice carrying through the room. Marcus never once missed a beat, keeping up with me as I hit the climax of the song, following the notes until I was able to reach the end of the song. And I couldn’t help but ponder on the words for a few seconds more as he finished the melody, allowing the tune to ring in the air as if it was a thick blanket surrounding us. Love truly was a strange concept. To appear, even when you least expected it. Doubtful anyone in the world could understand it. Especially surrounded by twinkling vampires.

“Brava! Brava!” estatic clapping forced my eyes to open, my whole body immediately standing to attention as I finally realized that it wasn’t just Marcus and I in the room alone. It took me a few seconds to finally realize that it was Aro doing the clapping, Caius not at boisterous but seemed quite impressed with my impromptu performance.

“E’stato magnifico, il mio amore,” Aro gushed over me, clasping his hands together. “Truly marvelous. You have such an enchanting voice.”

“Indeed, much like the siren we claimed,” Caius agreed. I found myself blushing, rubbing my cheeks to dull what I could of the red.

“It’s nothing really,” I tried to pass off the praise, the idea making me far more uncomfortable. But I could tell they didn’t want to pass it off, trying quickly to continue the compliments. Even when my stance turned to me hugging myself, forcing a fake appreciative smile on my face.

“Aro, enough,” a sudden snap from Marcus made him stop, the low growl not something I expected from my gentle giant. I had to look up at him to make sure he wasn’t angry, but I was merely greeted with a calm look. One that hid a small bit of worry underneath. But the compliments ceased, Aro and Caius sharing a very confused look. They didn’t speak, at least, not at an interval I could hear. I mean, they could be sharing some telepathic language that I am not aware of… right?

“Forgive me, I’m just not use to attention or praise. Truth is, I’m use to being exactly what I am good at, and that’s being invisible,” I started, knowing now that I had their attention. Truth was, I was debating with telling them about my past. I knew it would be difficult to explain, but Aro was right in a way. Perhaps one of them knew exactly what it was like. They were thousands of years old. Lived through a time that I could never fully understand myself. So perhaps someone understood.

“I grew up in a very chaotic life. My father abandoned us before I was born. Mom held some hope he would come back but he never did. And mom and I could never see eye to eye. She hated me. Hated that I existed and took away the one person she loved. We often lived in the poorest and darkest parts of town,” I paused, picking at a spot on my shirt. It took me a second to gather my thoughts in order to continue. “It was easier I suppose. Mom often performed sexual favors to get out of paying rent or if she was short. She drank a lot. Got into some heavy drugs. There was hardly any food in the house so I scraped by with what I could get ahold of. Mom, of course, never wanted to really see me out and about so I had to sneak around to avoid her.”

“I see,” Marcus’ voice held a sad note, his eyes void of any light that I was used to seeing. He probably saw the line that connected me to her. He had explained his gift once to me. So, it was only logical. I’m sure it didn’t look all that pretty either. Probably frayed and merely connected by a single thread.

“Yeah. It’s like I told the Cullens, I saw a lot of red eyes where I lived. Ran into a group that I guess activated my ability because they tried to attack me. But I disappeared on them.”

“Do you remember them at all?” Aro’s voice held a bit of retribution in it, my eyes finally connecting with his. I guess my ability blocked out that part of my life because I could tell this was news to him.

“I could recognize them if I saw them. But not off the top of my head,” I answered honestly. Aro nodded only once, sharing a look with Caius as if he could deduce anything.

“Rogues. They frequent the less fortunate areas. High crime rates, missing persons- any attacks can go unnoticed and unsolved by law enforcement,” Caius shook his head. “We cannot fault them for that. Or we would have to fault ourselves for not finding her.”

It only took me a minute to realize what Caius meant, knowing then that Aro held some animosity toward the ones that attacked. Which was odd. I figured Caius would be the one to throw some sort of fit about them. Not Aro.

“Alessandra,” a soft sigh made me look at Caius, the blond vampire having some sort of understanding in that moment. It took a lot for me to not bolt when he held his hands out. I didn’t know if I disappointed him yet I couldn’t feel that coming from him either. Caius, to my surprise however, didn’t rush me. It was as if he knew something the others didn’t. Something about me. Or about my situation.

“You do not need to blame yourself for anything that had happened to you. I can see it in your eyes,” those words made me stiffen. Aro and Marcus did as well. Which surprised me once again. I didn’t know what to think of those words. Perhaps the shock came from it being Caius, the most volatile one of the bunch. Yet he was not rushing, not snapping at me… what was going on actually?

“Masters!”

All three turned toward the doorway, Marcus quick to shelter me in his robes as they addressed the one who had bothered us. It wasn’t one of the normal guard, I could easily tell that. This one was probably of the lower ranks, though it made me wonder for a brief moment how large their army was. I mean, vampires couldn’t die of natural causes, so an endless army was possible to build.

“What is it?” the familiar snap of the blonde was back, though he was standing closer to my form. Aro had done the same as well, each standing unbearably close to my form as if they couldn’t trust the new comer. Again, made me wonder…

“Multiple visitors have arrived, requesting your presence,” came the news, the young vampire swallowed thickly, her focus quick to snap to me.

“Tell them it can wait. We are busy,” Caius’ words were not kind as he turned to face me. But his features did not match his words, as if he was hiding his displeasure from me.

“I understand, Masters, but-“

“But what?”

“One of them has asked to see Lady Alessandra,” she paused, bowing deeply before adding, “by name.”

“Who would ask for me? No one knows I’m here aside from the Cullens,” I countered, suspicious by the situation. No one knows but them. They were the only ones who mattered anyways.

“I am not sure, my lady. But she claims,” the vampire paused, again unsure of what else to say. At least until Caius snapped again, peering over his shoulder toward her. And that was when she uttered a single sentence that made my body go cold with shock and horror.

“She claims to be your mother.”

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real-jaune-isms · 4 years ago

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 7 Review/Remix

Last episode before the holiday break. The long long long holiday break. And here I am only posting my review the night before we come back... I was having a lot of fun playing my new video games, okay? Let’s just get right into this with the joke everyone has already made. War: What is it good for? Actually a lot, if you can believe it. Only in this specific context though, because the warfare in the American streets these last few days is disgusting and emblematic of what has been wrong with the country for a while. A government leader sending his followers into the nation’s capital on a mission of rage and personal catharsis? Ick. At least in RWBY the tyrant isn’t attacking members of his own population... Oh wait, Mantle. :P

For a moment you might be fooled into thinking we’re starting back in the farmlands of Mistral, maybe getting another look at Oscar’s earlier life or seeing a little more of Nora’s mysteriously tragic past before she and Ren met. But no, these are the wheat farms on the outskirts of Atlas and Sabyrs are charging through like raptors through the tall grass in Lost World. A battalion of Atlesian soldiers, human soldiers I might add, stand armed to meet them. But even if they’re armed they are by no means ready. Monstra keeps coughing up a new wave of Grimm, and I do mean a wave, every minute or two and Atlas is pretty damn whelmed in the face of it. There are some big bots with guns standing in straight lines, but the majority of the defense put up by Remnant’s supreme authority on military power and strength is mortal men with fear in their hearts rather than expendable robot soldiers. And the big bots seem to be lined up in a way that the ones in the front block the ones in the back, so that’s just poor planning too. It’s just a concerning sight all together, and they are not efficiently handling the coming enemy. We cut up to Ironwood in his office, and it seems he is not dealing with this situation well at all. We know he’s under a lot of stress from all the recent events, but they are in fact mostly his own fault due to his poor decision making skills in times of crisis, and his single minded drive he calls a Semblance. Speaking of the eternally expanding list of Ironwood’s bad ideas, he decides to evacuate all the civilians into Atlas’ below ground subway tunnels. Fun fact: There were Apathy among the Grimm Monstra has been spitting out. Second Fun Fact: Apathy were last seen thriving and murdering in an abandoned underground tunnel system beneath a well. If one is familiar with fantasy television pop culture of the last decade, the Crypts of Winterfell might pop into your mind as a similarly poor place to hide all your unarmed women and children. Y’know, cuz in Game of Thrones they were facing a guy who could raise the dead as his minions and crypts are just tunnels full of corpses. Just saying, this could end up being a non-birthday massacre. Whatever captain of lieutenant Ironwood was talking to is hesitant to go along with this idea, but Ironwood puts his foot down by putting his fist down. And so his voice comes on over the city-wide PA system to tell everyone they need to get down into the subway for their own safety. Compared to the organized marching and relative calm of the poor folks down in Mantle, these rich fat cats practically trample each other to run and scream down the stairs. A father is concerned his daughter is going to get snatched up by a swarm of Lancers, but seems even more upset by the squad of airships swooping in to combat them.

Speaking of airships, we cut to the one Marrow and Harriet are flying. The Ace Ops have arrested YRJ, because of course they did, and they all hear radio chatter as pilots are reporting in about how Monstra is too tough for them to pierce from the outside with any of the weapons available to them. Winter checks in over comms to report her team’s limited successes, and Ironwood tells her to stay on jailor duty for a bit. Yang snarks at Winter for continuing to follow orders despite the circumstances, but conversation is stifled by Monstra coming into view for the group. Jaune laments that the beast now serving as Oscar’s confinement is larger than they had imagined from a distance, and Vine continues to be rigid in his assertions as to just what Grimm can and cannot do. “Grimm don’t take prisoners” he says, as if that’s an irrefutable fact. It’s not like any Grimm have done anything new or unheard of recently, like talk or grow wings or exist within a river of evil sludge or shoot up miles into the air as a geyser or have gravity Dust crystals in their underbelly to fly, or as you are witnessing right now belch out ponds worth of sludge from with waves of Grimm are emerging to fight your ground troops. Yep, we definitely know every single thing a Grimm does, especially one brought here by the mistress of the entire Grimm collective who is commanding most of them here. You sure are smart, Vine... Yang continues to be riled up and ask they be let go to help, but Elm and Vine hold her in her seat. Ironwood is heard giving the Manta jets new orders and reveals Command is working on a solution for Monstra. Winter, naturally wanting to be kept in the loop, asks what that might be. He reveals the science team is putting together a bomb that might be able to take the whale out if detonated inside it. That means Winter and the Ace Ops will be delivering it into the literal belly of the beast. I don’t know if he intends for it to be a suicide mission with the bomb going off as soon as they’ve got it inside, or if it’s just incredibly risky to try and get inside Monstra at all, but Winter pales at this news and her eyes go wide before sadly drooping closed again. She composes herself and grows determined again as she accepts the new marching orders. Jaune and Yang are again audibly against these plans due to the risk to Oscar’s safety, but they are subdued as needed, though we see Winter’s act isn’t absolute and her hands are shaking.

Meanwhile, Salem is having the time of her life doing her best Mickey Mouse impression. Classical music plays as she conducts the waves of Grimm sludge out of Monstra’s mouth like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice playing conductor to the stars themselves. Emerald watched from a distance, and seems less than thrilled about the whole thing. She heads down the halls and has to use her Semblance to keep a Seer from noticing her and potentially reporting her going where she doesn’t need to be to Salem. And where she’s going is the door outside Oscar’s torture room. He’s coughing up blood, and Hazel is still insisting he start telling the truth before Salem loses her patience and just kills him despite how futile it’d be. Instead Oz starts asking some questions of his own: Does Hazel know why Salem sought to recruit him in particular? It turns out she approached him with the promise of making a new world order where there won’t be any kingdoms or Huntsman Academies. Oz just has to laugh at that naiveté. When Salem gets the 4 Relics, there won’t be a world at all. She’s been around for so goddamn long, all she wants is for it to end, and she thinks taking the whole world down is the only way to get it anymore. This just frustrates Hazel, and we learn why. He’s pretty damn sure Salem can’t die at all, because when she first approached him about working together he spent the better part of a day killing her over and over and over again. This man, whom we know from the Battle of Haven to have massive reserves of Aura and strength to endure and keep fighting, kept fighting until he was too worn down and exhausted to lift his fists again. And in that time of weakness and awe at her power, Salem made her sales pitch that even if he couldn’t kill the one leading the Grimm he could at least have vengeance on the establishment sending young people to their deaths against her. Oz points out that that’s exactly why she went to him, because she could make him believe this was the right way, that it would bring him closure. It’s what Ozpin deserves, Hazel argues, and Oz does not disagree. But does Oscar deserve it? Do the innocent people who haven’t been affected by Salem or Ozpin yet? No, this isn’t for justice, this is personal. Because Salem said it would help Hazel. Has it?

We don’t get an answer to that, instead going back up to Weiss’ room in Schnee Manor where she’s reapplying Nora’s bandages. Still mostly unconscious, Nora mutters “Now what... am I good for?” I can think of a great many things Nora is useful for outside of her great strength and straightforward approach to combat, but its a damn shame no one has actually bothered to tell her that before now. Before Weiss has a chance to offer any, Blake and Ruby enter the room with cups of tea. I’m not ashamed to admit I initially thought they were hot chocolate cuz I’m not used to tea being that sort of amber color. Weiss admits that she’s done the most her limited medical knowledge can offer, and Nora needs more than that. Blake expresses her concern for the other half of their group, but almost slips up and says... well we’re just not sure, but we like to assume she was gonna say she’s especially worried for someone in particular. The shippers can fill that in how they like. Their moping is interrupted by May entering the room with some less than stellar news from Fiona and the others down in Mantle. They haven’t seen Yang’s team in a while, and with everything going to hell like this a search party is at the bottom of the priority list. She’s about ready to get back on the airship and head back down to Mantle, but Weiss protests and this sparks a debate. May points out that Mantle doesn’t have the luxury of the Atlas military protecting them so Ruby’s group and the Happy Huntresses are the only thing keeping the people safe from the chaos of the invasion, but Weiss argues that there are still people suffering up her and I have to agree. Just because a police force is around doesn’t automatically mean they’re doing the best job of keeping everyone safe. But Weiss pushes the wrong button by asking about May’s family. The Marigold’s were ashamed of the way their “son” acted, wanting to help the suffering down in Mantle. And so May would no longer let herself be called that, she became a woman proudly working as part of the Happy Huntresses for the service of the people. She kicked her Marigold name and reputation to the curb and her cousin Henry stepped up as the socialite snob instead.

This cannot have been an easy scene for Kdin to record, but we all need to give a standing ovation for her performance in it. Powerful words that likely hit very close to home. What a queen.

May is sure Weiss gets where she’s coming from with their families casting them aside in favor of a more obedient heir, her being replaced by Whitley after her outburst at the charity concert. Weiss wants to voice her disagreement, but May questions whose side she’s on in all this. Blake doesn’t like that, they’ve heard this talk about taking sides before and judging by her tone she’s none too happy to be hearing it now. May is about to give her a strongly worded piece of her mind too but Ruby stands between them to remind everyone there are no sides. All of humanity needs to be united, and Salem is the one creating the tension that’s dividing them so their real enemy is her. The only question now is how do they get out of this problem? The solution might be hiding just around the corner, literally. Whitley has been listening from behind the door, and he seems a little inspired.

Meanwhile Oz seems to have just finished telling Salem’s dark cursed backstory to Hazel, and it seems her final plan really is to have the world so divided and ruined that when the gods are brought back to judge it they will deem Remnant a failure and destroy it and hopefully her with it. Hazel seems less than inclined to believe this story though, he still holds a damn hard grudge over his sister. Oz is getting nowhere so Oscar asks to be put back in the lead, and so he is just as Hazel is about to wallop them again. Oz is willing to trust him so he can earn Hazel’s trust in return. So he goes right ahead and tells the big guy Jinn’s name and that it’s how you summon her for one last question. Hazel seems mad that Oscar gave up the info so effortlessly after all that, but Oscar asserts that he’s not telling Salem. He’s telling Hazel, and letting him decide what to do with the knowledge and the chance to gain deeper knowledge still. Pretty rad strategy. Wouldn’t you know it though, Emerald is still listening outside the door and heard everything. She goes to tell Mercury, but he’s busy packing a duffel bag for a trip to Vacuo. Guess Salem doesn’t need him here right now so we’ll get to see him again in Volume 9 or 10. He’s less than convinced that they should try and use this behind the scenes knowledge to go against Salem, cuz if Hazel couldn’t do it then why would he change his tune now? And why would they risk their necks too? It’s not like Oz was telling the truth, right? Salem isn’t really gonna destroy the world! But the teens get another surprise lecture from Uncle Tyrian: Of course Salem plans to destroy Remnant!! You couldn’t tell from the start? Everything about her screams end of the world, and it is beautiful! And if you thought she’d do anything different then you must really be crazy... Bold worlds from a psychotic serial killer, but we already know he’s unhinged. Mercury doesn’t much like getting this rude awakening though, especially since Tyrian will be the one going with him to Vacuo. Merc and Em share one last sad look, but he’s made his bed and now he’s resigned to lie in it. Bye bye Mercury, see you after Emerald has probably switched sides and will have to face you as an enemy...

Speaking of ships soaring through the air, we go back to the Ace Ops and YJR heading for Monstra. Yang is protesting the bombing plan since Oscar is still inside, but Vine insists they can’t afford to wait and risk further death and destruction. Jaune offers a side plan, send the three inside Monstra ahead of the bombing squad to scope things out for them and try to rescue Oscar while they’re doing recon. Marrow is shocked that they’d be willing to go into the literal belly of the beast alone, but Yang asserts he’d do the same for one of his teammates if they were in this position, right? He doesn’t have an answer for that. Elm argues that trading their lives just for one other person is stupid, but amazingly it is Ren who objects. Oscar is their friend, and they will do whatever it takes for someone they care about like that. A real turnaround from his attitude of closing himself off emotionally, but I guess he’s realizing how ridiculous it sounds coming from other people? Harriet gets out of her seat to do what she does best and start talking down to someone as naïve and wrong. Feelings are stupid, the job is what matters. When you lose someone you just replace them and forget about them. We find out that Winter is indeed meant to be the new leader instead of Clover, and before Marrow there was apparently a member of the team named Tortuga, but Ren is not about to let anyone tell him that someone is replaceable. You don’t say that to Team JNPR, and we definitely don’t say that about Ren... Not now. In his outrage, Ren suddenly finds... clarity. He starts seeing the world a little differently. In less cryptic terms, his Semblance seems to have evolved and he now sees people’s emotions swirling around them as colorful bursts of flower petals. Harriet is actually furious about losing Clover, she’s lying to herself and trying to suppress her feelings. She does not like being called out like that, but the rest of the squad needs to be put on blast. As opposed to Hare’s red petals Marrow is surrounded by blue that I guess would mean sadness or depression, Elm has orange and some red, and Vine is clouded with green. The meanings of the last two are a little less clear, but they’re all definitely feeling some strong things that they’re trying to hide under a calm façade. This is the reason the Ace Ops lost to RWBY, they’re all held back by trying not to connect with each other so unity and team bonds never formed. Elm does not like being told she’s a loser because she won’t make friends, but at least it’s a a reaction, which means he’s absolutely right. She’s about to deck Ren in the face but Winter steps in to get everyone calmed down. She looks these three “fugitives” over, and makes a decision. She’s going to trust her sister’s friends. They will get the teens in close and give them a small window of time to try and get in and out before the Ace Ops need to bring in the payload and blow it all away. Harriet is pissed Winter is giving these “traitors” a chance, and questions her decision thusly. But you’re outranked, you boob, and you can’t do a damn thing to stop her from showing human decency. They have a very tight schedule to attempt this rescue, and Jaune accepts that fully. The three get uncuffed and are given their weapons back as the ship lands at the front lines. Ren tries to appeal to the doubt and regret he can see in Marrow to get him to switch sides while the getting’s good. Marrow wants to, but he sticks to the job for now. Yang and Jaune head out first, while Ren lingers to tell Winter he knows she doesn’t want to be a part of all this anymore either, and we see a rainbow of many emotional petals around her head. Either she has a balance of many emotions in check and is the most levelheaded of the Ace Ops, or she has the most emotions repressed and her mind is a tempest of feelings that aren’t being addressed and may spell her end... take your pick.

As this militant Schnee considers her options, we go homeward to see Weiss and the others heading for the front door. May isn’t keen to stay her any longer than needed, and the kids need to make a choice about where she’s dropping them off. Either they go to the front lines here in Atlas or back down to Mantle to help with the chaos there. No other options, and especially no breaking their jailbirds out for an assist. May doesn’t have the optimism and heroic hope that Ruby still holds dear, she won’t entertain the idea that this can become a complete victory all around. This isn’t that kind of world. Either they help one place, or they help another. And even then, that’s no guarantee wherever they go will be successful at stopping the invasion. It’s very depressing, and it’s on these kids to accept the facts and make the hard decisions. If you take a look at the last few Volumes, Ruby does seem to have a bit of a habit of ignoring the dreadful possibilities/facts in favor of pursuing a hopeful and bold plan that could fix everything immediately so she doesn’t have to cope with reality and actually grieve her mistakes and losses... I’m not saying it makes her a bad character or that she’s wholly wrong for trying to see a bright side whenever possible, just that this is an unhealthy strategy for a leader with so much on her shoulders. But before anyone has time to make a decision right now, there’s a hard knock on the front door. Everyone draws their weapons and approaches slowly, before Weiss cautiously opens the door. In a most definitely welcome surprise, she is greeted by Klein!!! She missed him dearly, and apologizes for whatever fault she had in his being fired, but while cycling through personalities he assures her she has nothing to be sorry for since it’s all Jacques’ fault, the bastard. Turns out, Klein is here to use his medical knowledge to treat Nora. What, didn’t you know all butlers to heroic millionaires have field medic training? Alfred Pennyworth set the gold standard, I dare say~ But of course, Weiss didn’t call him and none of her friends know his number so who told him to come?... Would you believe it, Whitley is responsible and we could not be more proud of him! Weiss certainly is, and she gives him what might be his first genuinely loving hug in years. Klein heads upstairs to begin treatment, while the rest of the group share a hopeful moment. But this silence too comes to a crashing halt as there is further ruckus outside. This time Ruby answers the door, to see a smoking crater in the front driveway. RWB rush outside and kneel at the edge of the crater as the smoke clears. Penny has crash landed, and lies there in a pool of what we can only presume to be her green synthetic blood. All she has the strength left to do is apologize before she passes out and the screen darkens with her. There lies the end for the next 6 weeks, and we were left to panic and speculate all the while. Too bad I’m a lazy bugger who only got this review out now and there’s no tension left before the thrilling continuation comes tomorrow morning. So lets all get one last panicked sleep in before the living nightmares come for our girls! Penny is totally gonna be under Watt’s control, the Hound is coming, it’s all gonna be a huge damn mess... Can’t wait, can you?~

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lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr · 4 years ago

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Doubts

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fantasy, Pirate AU, magic, time travel, romance

Warnings: none

Rating: General

Word Count: 2.2K

Synopsis: Jungkook finds himself alone in a new time with too many questions left unanswered and no way home.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who’s been reading this new series! I do plan to update once a week if I can. If anyone would like to be added to the tag list, let me know💜 Otherwise, all parts will be posted under the #In Another Life - AU for easy finding and of course they’ll all be posted under the masterlist. Happy reading!

Masterlist

From the moment he awoke on the pier, alone and unfamiliar with his new terrain, Jungkook knew something was amiss. Aoi was not with him. He struggled to control his fear as he fought to navigate this new world. The only thing which told him this was his ocean was the familiar island cliffs just off the coast. Nothing else remained the same. The cobblestone streets had been replaced with a rough, black substance. He saw no horses as it seemed everyone in this town had become wealthy enough to own an automobile of their own. Buildings twice the size of any he’d ever seen, towered over the crowded streets.

Navigation was more than challenging. It only took one mistake of stepping out onto the street without first glancing in either direction for Jungkook to realize the dangers this new time possessed. The people here were far less friendly than those he’d met along his journeys in years past. He could not allow Aoi to navigate this horrifying new world on her own.

Jungkook spent every waking moment searching for her. With each passing day he’d become more frustrated. No one had seen her. No one seemed to know who she was. The sorceress had tricked him. He never should have allowed her to take Aoi.

That had been three years ago. The life he’d built for himself in this new time was hardly anything to be proud of. With no gift to his name, he was cast out by the rest of the people. He’d been deemed an outcast.

“Are you even listening?”

Jungkook shook himself from his own mind, blinking over to the man in front of his bike, securing a new headlight in place. Jae bore a remarkable resemblance to his quartermaster, Yoongi. He resembled that of a cat with his soft features and feline eyes. Jae was a bit shorter and his hair a striking blonde, but those remained the only differences.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?”

Jae sighed, standing up straight and wiping the grease from his hands. “You’re head’s all over the place today. Is everything alright?”

Jungkook leaned heavily across the seat of his bike, the wrench twirling lazily around his fingers. Of course nothing was alright. Today marked three years since he’d been sent to this cursed time and he still had no leads as to where Aoi may be. Three years she’d been on her own. He had no way of knowing if she was even still alive. He’d managed to fail her yet again. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Liar,” Jae gave him a pointed look, “you’re thinking about her again.”

Jungkook threw the wrench into the toolbox and ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. It’s been three years. Rawena sent me here for the sole purpose of protecting Aoi, so where is she? How am I meant to know whether she’s even still alive? What if bringing her here didn’t work? I left my men to fend for themselves and yet I can’t even do the job I was sent here to do. Tell me, why do I keep thinking I can save her when I have no magic of my own?”

“Look,” Jae smacked the end of his rag against Jungkook’s cheek, leaving a smear of grease across his skin, “I know you come from a different time, but you’ve got to realize Aoi is perfectly capable of saving herself. Would she really want you sitting around blaming yourself for something that’s out of your control? You did what you felt was needed to save her life. If she’s anything like you say she is, she would have done the same for you. Now stop whining and turn the bike on. We need to have this thing up and running before Akira comes for you again.”

With a small smile, Jungkook did as he was told. Much like Yoongi, Jae never hesitated to put Jungkook in his place. He spoke the truth plainly, unlike others who would talk in circles for hours before finally saying what they mean.

Jae had given Jungkook his first bike the very day they met. It had not taken Jungkook long to learn that, if he were going to find Aoi, he would need some form of transportation. However, transportation was not easily obtained. Money was needed as an exchange. Something of which he had none. Yet finding work of any sort was next to impossible without some sort of magical skill. He’d nearly given up hope, resorting to his own methods of obtaining a vehicle. Methods which would surely land him in the prodigious prisons. Despite it all, Jungkook deemed it a necessary risk.

Luckily, the car he’d attempted to procure had belonged to Jae, a young man just a few years younger than Jungkook. With ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie which hid his tiny frame, Jae did not resemble the rest of the people from his time. Instead of reprimanding Jungkook for his actions, he offered to help. Jae found Jungkook only a week after arriving in this new world and he’d taken the lost boy under his wing, never once questioning his story.

He taught Jungkook the ways of his world and had provided him with work inside the mechanic shop his uncle owned. Whether Jae had truly believed Jungkook’s story at first, he wasn’t sure but he was glad for the boy’s kindness. For Jungkook may not have been able to find Aoi, but it had not taken Akira long to find him. Just as he had been in Jungkook’s own time, Akira was bent on destroying him in this world as well. Having met Jae was one of the few reasons Jungkook managed to survive this long.

“Have you figured out why he wants to kill you so badly?” Jae called over the sound of the engine.

Jungkook shook his head in defeat. Two days ago, Akira had attempted to run Jungkook off the road, wrecking his bike in the process. Jae had been quick to volunteer his help to fix it. “Not a clue.”

“Well, did you do anything way back in your time that may have made him hate you so much?”

“You mean besides kidnapping and dating his daughter?”

Jae poked his head up from beside the bike and grinned, “Yeah, besides that.”

Jungkook shrugged. “He’s hated me for as long as I can remember. Even before I met Aoi.”

“Well there’s got to be some reason. That witch, she didn’t give you any details?”

Jungkook closed his eyes, battling against his rising anger. It was always the same questions. Jae was determined to understand it all yet he struggled to put the pieces together. None of it made any sense. Jungkook could hardly understand it all himself.

The engine cut off as Jae pushed himself to his feet again. “Sorry, I’ll stop asking. I just think it’s a little strange. I mean, this guy’s been after you for your entire life and you have no idea why? Then there’s the sorceress who tells you to stop him but never tells you exactly what it is you’re stopping. If it were me, I wouldn’t know who to trust.”

“You think I do?”

Jae changed the subject with a small shrug, not liking the tension that had grown between them. “I’m picking Kihyun up from the hospital later.”

“Yeah? How’s he doing?” Jungkook threw his leg over the bike, thankful for the reprieve.

“He called this morning, said they’re releasing him in a few hours. If you want, we could search the upper town again while we’re there. We haven’t done that in a few months.”

Jungkook kept quiet.

Jae gave him a sidelong glance, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Honestly, Jae?” Jungkook’s voice shook slightly as he fiddled with the clutch, “I’m starting to think she’s not even here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s been three years. Don’t you think we would have found her if she were?”

“Wow,” Jae dropped his rag on the table and climbed aboard his own bike, starting it up with a little more force than was necessary, “so that’s it? You’re just giving up?” Strapping his helmet on, he lifted the visor and turned to Jungkook. The disappointment in his eyes was worse than all the anger he could have shown. “I can’t tell you what to do, Kook. But Kihyun and I will be on the north side in a few hours. Feel free to join us if you want.” He sped out of the garage then, leaving Jungkook alone and buried in doubts.

Two hours later, Jungkook found himself speeding down the streets of northern Phainomai. He’d left Jae a text saying he’d meet them at the old train depot. The site had been abandoned for years. It was the location where Jae had taught Jungkook to ride, marking the beginning of his new life. Jungkook decided it would be a good enough place as any to continue his search.

Doubts lingered at the back of his mind. The voices too loud to drown out. He’d searched the northern areas more times than he could count, yet there’d been no trace of her. Jae was right though. He couldn’t just give up. She had to be there somewhere. Jungkook had attempted to leave Phainomai after the first three months but Rawena’s magic wouldn’t allow it. He was trapped within the city borders. While the city was large, after three years he felt as if he’d searched every inch of it. Jae of course had been nothing but helpful. Kihyun was much more cynical, but Jungkook couldn’t blame him. Even in a land of magic, Jungkook’s story was hard to believe.

Jungkook rested his bike on the kickstand before falling onto the bench which sat beside the old tracks. He could hardly see them beneath all the overgrowth. Aoi would have loved it there. She’d always been fascinated with abandoned places, claiming each had a unique history and story worth telling. Jungkook smiled at the memories. She’d taken them through every empty town or castle they’d come across on their voyages, much to the displeasure of his crew.

“Well, well, well,” Keiji stepped out from behind the depot building, his helmet in hand and a smirk on his lips, “look who we have here.” Fiery red hair stuck up at odd angles from being pressed beneath his helmet.

Jungkook pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he’d picked up from Yoongi years ago. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this today.

Keiji had been a long time rival. Since the day Jae introduced Jungkook to the thrill of street racing and Jungkook had beaten Keiji his first time out, the boy had declared them enemies. Their rivalry only grew with every race Keiji lost against him.

“I don’t have time for this, Keiji. Go annoy someone else for a while.”

“You don’t look like you’re all that busy.”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“Me too.” Keiji slid onto the bench beside him, crossing his legs and resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he braced his elbow on his knee. “I didn’t realize you were so popular.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t understand why anyone would want to hang out with someone like you. I mean besides Jae but he’s just as strange as you are.”

The more Keiji’s voice rang through his ears, the more Jungkook wanted to bash his head through a wall. After refusing to help find Aoi, Jungkook had grown a certain detestation for the boy.

“What are you doing here?”

��Some guy paid me a month’s tuition to find you. I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that. Not when Dad’s still threatening to cut me off.” Leaning in closer, Keiji’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if he were sharing a secret. “So tell me, Jungkook, what makes you so special?”

Jungkook didn’t grace him with an answer. He was on his feet and leaping onto his bike before Keiji had time to react. Keiji’s gift allowed him to know anyone’s location at any given moment, and while he didn’t like doing anything for anyone else, with enough money, anyone could be bought. Jungkook knew only one person who would pay that kind of money to learn of his location.

“Hey! You owe me a fair race. Where are you going?”

Jungkook started the engine in response. If Keiji had already alerted Akira to his location, it wouldn’t be long before he arrived. Jungkook had to be gone by then.

Fate had other plans.

Akira rounded the corner just as Jungkook shifted into first gear. Jungkook’s heart pounded wildly against his chest. The metal piping gripped in Akira’s left hand spoke of the man’s intentions. Jungkook had a feeling he wouldn’t be quite so lucky with his escape today.

Keiji shouted after them, confused and frustrated as they tore away from the depot. Tires squealed as they hit the pavement, the rubber fighting to gain traction. Jungkook was a good rider but he knew Akira was better. He would need to find some way to shake him from his tail before Akira gained the upper hand. Settling in, Jungkook hunched himself over as low as he could, feeding as much speed to his bike as he could handle.

The chase was on.

#In Another Life - AU #bangtanarmynet #bangtanfairygarden #bangtanscenery #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fantasy au #jungkook au #jungkook angst #bts #bts au fanfic #bts au #bts angst #bts fanfic

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beyond-the-mirror · 5 years ago

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Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Welcome back little angels of music, to another chapter of Music of the Night. Dare I say this is one of my favorite parts of the musical, which is why I made this one a specially long chapter. Remember, if you wish to be tagged in this story in particular, please leave a comment or send a message and it shall be done.

Warnings: Mentions of possessive behavior and slight violence in one scene.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon @minteyeddemon @vampiregirl1797

…………

Chapter 6: Both Angel and Demon

Loud steps resonated through the dark passageway, the only source of light being an old lantern that the Phantom held tight in his hand. His free arm was wrapped over your shoulders, silver cane in hand, both pulling you close to him and preventing you from escaping his grasp.

Your eyes glanced around taking in your surroundings. The seemingly endless passage appeared to be quite old, its stone walls covered in a surprisingly thin layer of dust and with no cobwebs or other signs of abandonment. You could figure that maybe this was due to its frequent usage, possibly thanks to the Phantom who must have used the passage on the regular. However, as much as you searched around, there was no hint or clue about where exactly you were, and considering you had been walking for while, it was highly probable that you were no longer in the Opera House.

As you were pondering this, your gaze stopped at the silver cane pressed lightly to your side. There was something about it that intrigued you, it looked strangely familiar, but how? The strange item pulled you to it, almost calling to you in an attempt to make you remember, but not matter how much you searched your mind you just couldn’t find out why was it so familiar.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Phantom finally stopped in his tracks, noticing how the atmosphere felt more chilly and humid. Before you was a wide canal, a single gondola secured with a rope to a small pier. It was then that you realized you were still beneath the city, in no other place than the well-known underwater canals of Fortuna. Not long after your realization, the man at your side started guiding you to the pier and towards the boat. He offered his hand to you and carefully helped you step into the gondola, which was decorated with luscious pillows and bright red roses. After you had taken your seat, the mysterious man turned to hook the lantern on the front of the boat and then hopped on taking his place right behind you, untying the rope and grabbing a row that laid on the wooden pier.

And thus initiated your voyage into the unknown.

…………

The chilling atmosphere in the canal made goosebumps appear on your skin, the white robe you were wearing doing nothing to protect you from the cold. Noticing your discomfort, the Phantom immediately stopped rowing for a few moments so he could take off his warm cape and drape it over your shoulders gently. You didn’t know where was he taking you, or why, but deep inside you knew he could never harm you in any way. You trusted him fully.

A low sound behind you reached your ears, and you realized the Phantom had started singing a soft lullaby that reverberated through your soul.

Snuggling into his cape, a soft smile appeared on your face. The delightful cologne that filled your nostrils and the soothing sound of his voice deeply relaxed you, enhancing the trance he had put on you since your encounter in the dressing room. You were in such a relaxed state, that you reached your destination sooner than you had expected.

Red candles illuminated the entire place, the warm dim light engulfing the walls and the rocky ceiling. The Phantom stepped out of the gondola and secured it to the sidewalk before offering his hand to you, gently helping you off the boat. With your hand still entwined with his, he guided you towards another set of stairs that led up into another passageway. Finally reaching the end, he activated a mechanism that opened an entrance before you.

You were now in what appeared to be an old studio, illuminated by more red candles. Looking around the beautifully decorated room, you spotted an ebony grand piano, as well as a desk full of notebooks and papers, and several book shelves that reached the ceiling above. There was no doubt that this had to be the Phantom’s lair.

A pair of arms encircled your waist, a breath ghosting over your sensitive neck.

“At last, my beloved angel. At last do I have you in my arms.”

He turned you around to look at him, his hat now discarded time ago, revealing obsidian black hair slicked back neatly as well as the mask that covered half his sharp features.

And you couldn’t help but stare at his eyes, his gorgeous green eyes. So deep and profound, but tinted with a terrible sadness that seemed to have taken out their light long ago and that continued to haunt him to this day.

“I have brought you here, my personal sanctuary, for you are the one I have chosen from the moment I first heard you sing. You are the one I needed with me, to serve me, to sing for the music I create.”

He approached you with calculated steps, one of his hands raising to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear and then gently cupping your face. In the dim light of the studio, you could notice how he looked at you with love and adoration filling his eyes.

“Would you sing for me? My angel of music?” His voice send shivers down your spine, his droopy eyes almost pleading with nostalgia and sorrow. His fingers kept caressing your face in such delicate strokes, as if you were a fragile porcelain doll that could break shall he act too carelessly.

How could you deny his request? Not while he seemed to be pleading and begging with his expression, not while you still remained under the strange trance he had put you under.

And so, your lips parted and let the lyrics to an old sad song come out from deep inside your heart.

youtube

“Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation Darkness wakes and stirs imagination Silently the senses abandon their defenses Helpless to resist the notes I write For I compose the music of the night

Slowly, gently night unfurls it's splendor Grasp it, sense it, tremulous and tender Hearing is believing, music is deceiving Hard as lightening, soft as candlelight Dare you trust the music of the night.”

The mysterious man stood completely mesmerized and captivated by your divine voice, he softly embraced you in his arms with your back pressed to his chest. He swayed you gently to the rhythm of the melody, his head resting on top of yours, and sang along you.

“Close your eyes for your eyes will only tell the truth and the truth isn't what you want to see In the dark it is easy to pretend That the truth is what it ought to be

Softly, deftly, music shall caress you hear it, fear it, secretly possess you Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind In this darkness which you know you cannot fight The darkness of the music of the night.”

At that exact moment, and for the first time in so many years, he could feel as if all the shadows that haunted his mind dissipated and vanished into nothingness. Just by holding you close to him, the sweet aroma of your hair that reminded him of ripe strawberries and honeysuckle, the warmth that emanated from your skin, everything about you brought relief and happiness to his heart.

“Extraordinary… Truly extraordinary, my child…” The Phantom lowered his head so that his lips were right next to your ear, his breath fanning over your neck and sending delicious shivers down your spine. “My angel of music, listen to the sound of my voice. Focus on nothing else but me.” As he pronounced his words, his eyes acquired a supernatural gleam, demonic energy flowing out and enveloping you in a trance.

The candles around you flickered ominously, the atmosphere becoming colder even if just for a second as the man behind you spoke. “Ever since I first saw you, you have enraptured my heart and my soul. There is a light that you possess, one so pure and warm, while the world outside can be dark and cruel. I wish to bring you nothing but utter joy and happiness, everything you want and desire I shall give to you on a silver tray, and all your dreams shall become a reality at your command.”

He paused. Your breath became heavy and your head felt light, as if you were floating over the abyss, but instead of feeling scared, you felt strangely safe.

“All I ask of you…” the Phantom breathed in your delightful perfume “All I beg of you… is your heart, your loyalty, your love. You shall love no man other than me. From now on, all earthly matters will become insignificant to you. As long as I have you in my power, you belong to me... Do you understand?”

You hissed in a breath, his presence overwhelming you “…Yes, my Phantom.”

“Good girl.”

With a snap of his fingers, your eyelids suddenly felt heavy and your consciousness drifted away, a deep slumber taking over you. Your body fell limp, the Phantom catching you in his arms. Carrying you bridal style, he took you upstairs to the master bedroom so you could stay the night and rest properly. He carefully laid you down on the queen-sized bed, which he had previously prepared for you with the richest silk covers and the most luscious pillows he could muster, a perfect bed for a divine creature like you. After tucking you in, he sneakily placed a kiss over your forehead, an act he considered almost a blasphemy. A demon like him had no right to kiss an angel like you.

“May you have the sweetest dreams, my beloved (Y/N)…”

…………

“Are you entirely sure about this Shakespeare? I personally don’t think this is a brilliant idea, if you ask me of course.”

The avian creature stood on top of a perch next to his desk, his wicked yellow eyes looking at his master doubtfully and his voice lathered in genuine concern.

“I’m afraid we have no other option, my estimated Griffon, and your remarks aren’t helping much right now. Do you think I am not already aware of the cruel selfishness of my actions?” The masked man answered to the creature known as Griffon in a tone full of lament and regret.

“Sorry there lover boy, but I can’t help but worry that toots right here might go tattletale on us once she leaves. The least we want right now is unwanted attention after all.”

The Phantom directed a deadly glare towards his companion, making the bird squawk in fear and gulp, realizing it was best not to mutter a single word to avoid further annoying his master.

A deep growl resonated through the walls of the studio, prompting the man to turn to his side. Right there on the floor, a black mass emerged from one of the shadows projected on its surface, slowly shaping itself until it transformed into a red-eyed panther, its black fur decorated in numerous crimson markings that glowed softly in the dim light.

“Shadow, my loyal companion.” He reached an arm to lovingly pet the feline on its head, which purred in appreciation for her master. “I suspect the Opera House already closed its doors for the night?” The beast known as Shadow nodded her head as an answer.

“Did anybody suspect anything about the disappearance of Miss (Y/N)?” This time, she shook her head negatively. “Good job. You may rest.” With his dismissal, the panther dissolved into black wisps of smoke that swirled towards him and into the tattooed lines of his skin.

If there was anybody the Phantom could trust, that would be his two demonic companions who serve him loyally. Griffon was the closest thing to a friend he could have at the moment, and he had to admit the loquacious avian was an excellent listener and company, albeit one with terrible advices and an awful habit of speaking inappropriately. Now Shadow was a different deal altogether, a completely silent creature next to the talkative Griffon. Her job was to keep an eye on any activity in the theatre while hiding in the shadows before reporting back to her master. Her calm attitude always transmitted some peace to him, at least enough to rid him of a few of his many burdens, or to grant him some refuge from Griffon’s often annoying rants.

“Okay okay, didn’t mean to sound rude before.” Griffon once again addressed his master. “All I’m saying is that maybe we should ponder if there is an alternative rather than forcing (Y/N) into all of this. Who knows? Maybe there’s a chance we find another solution to ‘our pesky problem’.”

The Phantom sighed in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Believe me, if there was indeed one, I wouldn’t hesitate to free her from this…” His eyes then took a rather sorrowful expression, the tone of his voice lowering too. “However, I regrettably doubt it to be possible… Remember that we researched for years, with no results whatsoever. And then she arrived and all of a sudden we have a hope.”

The avian lowered his gaze in defeat at the sight of his master, hopelessness and desperation plaguing the man’s heart.

“I’m afraid (Y/N) is our only hope… our only hope… to stop him from consuming us…”

…………

The first thing you noticed as you were slowly waking up, was a rich softness that embraced you like a cocoon, warmth filling your body pleasantly and making you wish to stay in bed a few minutes longer. However, as your eyelids fluttered open, you noticed that your surroundings didn’t look much like your own bedroom.

With a sharp gasp, you sat up on the bed trying to remember everything that transpired after the premiere. You recalled being in your dressing room, your friends had stopped by to greet you before leaving, then the Vicomte’s visit to invite you as his companion, and then…

The Phantom. He had appeared before you! As everything came back to your mind, you remember being taken by him, the secret passage behind the mirror and the underground canal. In that case, you must be in no other place than the Phantom’s lair.

As you looked through the window, you noticed the dark sky illuminated only by a full moon, though you couldn’t be certain about the exact hour without a clock in hand. Perhaps it would be wise to leave and go home, now if only you knew just where in Fortuna you were exactly. You could try asking the Phantom, you could still trust him right? Although you weren’t so sure now considering he had taken you to an unknown location without an explanation. Could you keep trusting him?

Taking a deep breath, your resolve was fixed and you stood from the bed. There was so much about him that remained a total mystery, and now it was time to finally get some answers.

You descended the stairs as quietly as possible, looking around for your mentor until you stumbled into the studio you first arrived in. And sure thing, there he was, sitting at the desk and appearing to be working on some papers. He was so immersed in his writing that he didn’t heard you footsteps nor felt your presence in the same room as him. Giving a quick glance at the documents on the wooden desk, you managed to make out some music sheets as well as notes with lyrics and dialogues written on them. You also noticed his ungloved hands which possessed strange black lines tattooed on the skin along them.

Quietly shifting forward, your eyes set themselves on the mysterious man. His sharp features completely mesmerized you to no end, and something deep inside your heart responded to his image pulling you towards him. There was something about him that called you, a familiar sensation trying to reach out to you, but couldn’t pinpoint what it was exactly. And the more you stared at him, the more your curiosity took over your senses. You wondered who this man was, why did he roam the Opera House everyday… what was he hiding behind that mask.

Before you knew it, your hand was already reaching out towards his face. If only you could see what laid behind that mask… if only you knew why this man was so familiar… if only you knew what was reason behind the melancholy in his eyes…

If only…

And then, you took it off.

“NOOO!” With a horrified yelp, the Phantom swiftly covered the recently unveiled side of his face. His head snapped to you, his eyes wide open in a bewildered expression you had never seen before.

“HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME?! YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORA!” His voice roared with an immeasurable wrath, the entire structure of the house seemed to be almost shaking by the sheer force of his ire. You quickly backed up in an attempt to flee, only to be halted by a painful grip on your wrist.

“AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE GIFTED YOU, EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE FOR YOU, HOW DARE YOU REPAY ME THIS WAY?!” Crystalline tears filled your eyes. The grip on your wrist tightened unforgivingly, it was hard to believe that the man you considered your teacher and mentor these past years was now hurting you in this way.

“P-Please forgive me! I d-d-didn’t mean-“ He removed the hand covering his face, revealing a most dreadful sight that had you lost for words. Black veins of ink tainted half his angelic face, marring the once pristine pale skin, flowing and pulsing like sickening tendrils along its surface.

“IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED TO SEE?! HUH?! A MONSTER?! A DEMON?!”

You remained speechless. The man who used to be so kind and gentle towards you, who encouraged and guided you to your dream until it finally became a reality. That wonderful gentleman was now gone, replaced now with a raging demon.

“CURSE YOU! NOW YOU SHALL NEVER BE FREE!” In a rough move, you were thrown back against one of the bookcases that lined the walls, the impact forcing the air out of your lungs and numerous books to topple down onto the floor next to you. Slowly you slide down to the floor, crying in pain as your back and right shoulder burned and ached.

Only a few seconds later did the Phantom realize in horror what he had done, taking a couple steps back in disbelief and looking at his own palms. He had hurt you, something he had promised not to do ever. He had hurt you.

He too fell to the floor on his knees, broken as he watched your curled up form sobbing.

“… Can you ever forgive me? … Can you even dare to look, or bear to think of me?” As tears ran down his cheeks, he lowered his head and rested it on his palms. He had lost all right to even look at you. “Can’t you see? I’m nothing but a loathsome gargoyle, who burns in hell, but secretly yearns for heaven. But (Y/N),” he reached out an arm towards you. “Fear can still turn to love- you will learn to see, to find the man behind the monster. This repulsive carcass, who seems a beast, but secretly yearns for beauty…”

Wiping your tears away, you finally dared to look at the Phantom, and the sight made your heart ache. He turned away from you ashamed of his actions, looking defeated and vacant, his figure hunched over himself in lament and silently crying in utter hopelessness.

Quickly glancing around, you spotted his mask not too far away from you. Picking it up, you examined it briefly before standing up, carefully approaching the Phantom before handing him his mask. At first he hesitated a bit, but eventually accepted it from your hands and immediately put it back on his face.

You were about to ask him if he was feeling alright when you caught the sight of something with the corner of your eye. It was one of the books which had toppled down the shelves previously, now laying open and revealing a rather familiar set of illustrations alongside a poem. Crouching down, you picked up the book to give it a closer inspection and discovered it was a poem, ‘The Divine Image’ by William Blake. And once you closed it to look at its cover, you noticed a quite peculiar design you had definitely seen before.

Golden lines and ornaments decorated the leather in gorgeous patterns, forming a large and an elegant ‘V’ at its center.

‘You would never forget those eyes.’

A sharp gasp left your lips as it suddenly dawned on you. His green eyes, the silver cane, and now the book…

‘Thank you (Y/N)… your kindness is infinite like the universe… you have been a wonderful friend.’

“V…”

The kneeling figure before you tensed. With a trembling voice, you kept beckoning him.

“… I-Is it really you? V?” He didn’t respond.

You approached him slowly with shaky steps and once you where close enough, you cradled his face in your hands softly, tilting it slightly up so you could meet his eyes. However, a hand flew to your forearm and gripped it, effectively halting you. The Phantom stood up, towering over you and pulling you harshly with him.

“Come. I must return you home. Otherwise those two fools running my theater will become suspicious.” As you struggled in his grip, he pressed a finger right on the center of your forehead, and used his powers to make you fall unconscious once again. You suddenly felt light-headed, as if your body was being sapped of all its energy and strength, and no matter how much you forced yourself to stay awake, it was a lost battle.

“V… I beg you… please stop…” Your now limp body fell right into his arms.

“Shadow!” the man summoned the panther which materialized at his side. “Lead the way.”

At her master’s orders, the feline proceeded to descend into the secret passage to the underground canals, already knowing the way back to your house. Carrying you bridal style, the Phantom immediately followed his servant into the tunnels.

“I’m terribly sorry for this… (Y/N)…”

…………

“Excuse me Miss Goldstein, do you happen to know where is Miss (Y/N)?” Raoul questioned the brunette. After failing to find you at the Opera House, he assumed you had already left to the party. But after discovering you weren’t at the club either, he decided to ask the other attendees about your whereabouts, starting with Nico who seemed to be a close friend of yours.

“Oh! Greetings Vicomte. Uhhh I’m afraid I don’t know anything about her, last time I saw here was at the theatre.”

“Maybe she already went home.” Kyrie intervened after seeing the worry and confusion in Nico’s expression. “I remember her mentioning she was feeling exhausted after the opera. Perhaps she ultimately decided to retire for the night in order to get some rest.”

“I see.. Yeah, that seems to be the case.” The Vicomte let out a sigh of relief, he was starting to become more concerned of your sudden disappearance, but Kyrie’s explanation helped dissipating his worries away. “Please forgive my interruption, hope you enjoy the rest of the party.” With those words he walked away from the group.

Picking up another glass of champagne from one of the waiters, Raoul was on his tracks to return to his lounge when another man intercepted him. The stranger was an old man who appeared to be in his sixties, wrinkles adorning his face with shoulder-length white hair framing it. He was dressed elegantly albeit in a rather simple fashion, complete with a short-brimmed hat on his head.

“Greetings Vicomte, it’s good to see you. I am so sorry for having missing the premiere, my ferry ride had to be delayed and I couldn’t make it on time.”

“No reason to worry about that anymore Bishop, at least you can join us in our celebration for the great success this production turned out to be. But first, allow me to introduce you to the new owners of the Opera House.” Raoul then guided the Bishop of Fortuna to the lounge where Monsieur Firmin and Monsieur Andre were sitting. “Gentlemen, I would like to introduce you to the Opera House’s newest patron: Signor Luciano Amadeo Sanctus, Bishop of Fortuna.”

#devil may cry #phantom of the opera au #dmc v #v x reader #v x you #self-insert #fanfiction #fanfic

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drmedicsgamesurgery · 5 years ago

Text

Danganronpa Togami Volume 3 Part 4 (Summary)

Continuing where we left of in chapter 2!

Thanks to @enoshima-pyon @shockersalvage @jinjojess @hopeymchope for helping out!

3. Continued

"Hey what's with that smile, do you think I’m really that great of a mood? I’m looking for my sister, so this is no time to be eating." says Hiroyuki.

Shinobu asks about Yuika and the Ketouins to which Hiroyuki says that he has no idea what she is talking about. This is not his identity, what made her think that? Shinobu answers that Borges gave her all the info she needed.

"You really are proud of Borges, the information retrieval library developed by the Togami’s. It seems that you’re convinced of the information given to you by this gadget is correct, but what if it isn’t? Is it really ok to believe everything Borges says?”

Shinobu searches for references about the Ketouin’s in Borges to check.

Borges = Search results

#67910104

Title "Dialogue after 7pm yesterday"

"The Ketouin Conglomerate... You ever heard of it?"

"Never."

(OMITTED)

"Ketouin Conglomerate. I remember hearing about it."

"Way to go, little master! Let me carry your bags! Should I fetch you some sandals and warm up some onigiri too?"

"Unlike the typical conglomerate, they're one of those 'underworld conglomerates', and top of the list, at that. Even I haven't met with someone from an underworld conglomerate before."

(OMITTED)

"What an honor. I'm Hiroyuki, the grandson of the Ketouin Conglomerate's current head,

Hatakiyo Ketouin. And that's my twin sister."

"You may call me Yuika."

"After that conversation, I searched the "KETOUIN CONGLOMERATE" #87654321 in your base inside the car factory. Even if Borges fails, you shouldn’t doubt the Togami’s.”

"Borges failing? And what did the little master say? Things are getting too complicated, it’s giving me a headache."

"Are you trying to say that the world I see is just a product of fantasy."

"'This is the world I want to see'. Hmm, I quite like that way of thinking," Hiroyuki chewed on some chicken. "Of course, this world is not just a dream you want to see, I live in the same world as you, but it seems that our Weltanschauung[1] is not the same."

"Weltan... Hey, what do you mean?"

"What I want to ask is about your talent, that is the key to your self-awareness."

My talent.

Secretary.

"Milady, do you know that it is said that the profession of ‘secretary’ was born in the Middle East around 3,000 BC, but the secretaries of that time had only one job, for centuries, despite the ability to use the privileged class of words. That's all they had."

"What kind of job?"

"Recording."

"What?"

"Recording, like, keeping records. How many beans are there, how many potatoes, how many slaves, recording these was the task of a secretary."

“They didn’t write books?”

I don’t know much about history. It’s really unexpected when I say it. I used to think that the job of secretaries were to write biographies of great emperors or a story that prospered the country with lyrical words. It seems that the earliest books are as clean as I am. Lies, exaggerations, and ambiguous expressions, they ruled out all of this, only recording the facts, and implemented this principle all the time. I felt that my approach was not wrong and I couldn't help but feel relieved.

"For centuries, the secretary has been making records," Hiroyuki nodded. " I have to ask some questions. What are the reasons for these secretaries to start writing stories?"

"Are you asking the reason why the modern day secretary has declined?"

"I don't know if this should be called declining. In short, from a certain period of time, the secretary no longer needed to record, so they started to write biographies and lyrics and such. So why?"

"Maybe because I am tired of endlessly recounting records..."

"Because of unemployment."

"What?"

"Unemployment, like, no longer having that job. Countless kingdoms collapsed, and the bureaucracy where they lived ceased to exist. At that time, the secretary found that he was abandoned like Wakame [2] on the beach, losing his original status and reputation. These secretaries have the ability to read and write words. In the past, they served the people of the national center. Their self-esteem was devastated and they felt despair."

"It is because they are in despair that there will be a story to write."

Those who have been abandoned by the world and whose desires are not satisfied, they use their only ability - literary talent, to try to find the glory of the past, if so, how much-

“Somewhat disappointing.”

Hiroyuki talks about how greek and egyptian mythology was likely written by these despair filled secretaries. They were at the top of the country in power structure, but were reduced to nothing but sheepherders living a boring life. Those people wanted to make something interesting out of their lives and pictured their ideal world, out of despair.

"You really know a lot." Shinobu answers.

"Oh, it's nothing really... When I was young, I spent my days at the library."

Shinobu feels like she is a person who feels like she has a duty to write a book, and record things, to which Hiroyuki jokes that maybe now she is out of employment she has become one of the despair fueled secretaries too.

"Your Borges, your partner, your writing aid, your left and right hand, your comrade and your mentor..."

"What's with the cool speech, are you saying that I couldn't write anything without Borges?"

Shinobu thinks about how she is in fact extremely dependant on Borges, and without it, most of “Journey Under The Midnight Sun” would not have been recorded. However she never once thought that this would make her talent somewhat fake or forced, but it's because of Borges she is able to have an ability like this. She only wants to write down and record the facts.

The reality I have witnessed including my self-consciousness - this layer of extra filters, misreading, mistaking, and thinking wrong, all these human-specific errors are excluded, only the truth is recorded, to be recorded so factually like this, Borges is essential.

"You are indeed a true secretary. The original job of the secretary is to record the volume of goods in a warehouse. So to ask a new question, what would happen if the actual volume of the storage space itself is wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

"What would you do if the information Borges told you were fake?"

"Borges is perfect."

"There was a crash because the meter was broken. The pilot always believed that the meter had no problems, which caused the plane to fall. No matter what, believing 100% in something is very dangerous."

"Do you want me to doubt?"

"You have to doubt everything."

"That’s too cliché."

"I’m serious. Only prophecy can guarantee that there is no impurity in the real world."

"Prophecy……"

"If you don't find the 'Kudan' quickly, be careful that you won't be able to keep yourself. If you let the fat man take the fake goods, don't say how the world is, you must be finished."

"Who the hell are you?"

"My identity isn’t really that important."

"You aren’t answering me, Hiroyuki."

"So, uh, this person, Hiroyuki, never even existed in the first place. Hiroyuki Ketouin, Yuika Ketouin, the Ketouin Conglomerate, the Hasegawa Research Institute, Taeko Kanai, the Red Ribbon Army [3], the Black Gema-Gema Gang [4] and the International Criminal Police Organization [5], are all fiction. Fictional individuals and groups. If you think they are real, then well, your crazy. Well maybe not you who is crazy, but rather it’s Borges that is the crazy one.”

I have also noticed the differences between my memory and his testimony. However, I cannot agree with him. If I agree, then I won’t be able to trust myself, and I can't keep my story going.

"You want to get the 'Kudan' first. Be the first one to find the truth: it’s the only way to save you." continues Hiroyuki "You should let your mind run at full speed to deal with this event, as you did during The Biggest, Worst Incident in the History of the Togami Family.”

"Who are you?"

"I am your companion. I have been your companion since a long time ago. I hope you can be happy from now on. This is my only wish."

"Who are you?"

"You don't have to think about it. If you can't remember it, then blame Borges."

Hiroyuki showed a short but soft smile.

Do I... know? Do I know this unnatural smile?

"I asked, who are you. Please, answer me..."

"You can't remember. Maybe Borges not only eroded your present, but also eroded your past. You have to hurry, this has nothing to do with the Togami family and the world, for your own sake, please hurry..."

A hole opened in Hiroyuki’s head. Hiroyuki, who had a big hole in his eyebrow, still had a smile on his face, and held my hand in his. "Be yourself." his head fell onto his plate. We were under attack, so I rushed back. At that moment, there was a sharp impact on my face. I fell into the corner of the room as my face was shot. Aah, aaaaaah, lies, lies, lies, lies, aaaaah, I was hit, lies, lies, hit, aAH, I was hit, my face was hit, face, face, AAH, Byakuya-sama, I'm so scared, so scared, Byakuya-sama, I want to see you again, aaah, lies I don't want you to see, because my face is hit, I am going to die, am I going to die? I am alone, in a foreign country, I am going to die, are you going to die? A person? So scared, I don't want to be hit, █ hit, ███, I want ██, Byakuya-sama, Bya██ya, I ██ dead, █ want to see you, Byakuya-sama, want to see you, don't want to ███,█████ want to die, don't want to see you, want to see you, I want to die, I don't want to██████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████████

Translations notes:

[1] Weltanschauung is German for Worldview

[2] Wakame is a type of seaweed used mostly in soups and salads.

[3] The Red Ribbon Army is a paramilitary criminal organization from the Dragonball series.

[4] The Black Gema-Gema Gang are a group of evil-doers from the Di Gi Charat series.

[5] The International Criminal Police Organization, or INTERPOL, is an intergovernmental organization facilitating international police cooperation from the Marvel Cinematic Universe series.

To be continued?

https://drmedicsgamesurgery.tumblr.com/GameSurgeryDRTranslations

#Danganronpa #Danganronpa:Togami #Danganronpa Togami #DRT3 Summary #Danganronpa: Togami #Part 4

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