#I know nothing about learning French since that isn’t my target language

[aftg-and-random-things]

I can accept mafia cult teams, cracker dust, whatever, but I swear I draw the line at Jeremy reaching anywhere near B1 level French by the end of the series. A1 great. A2 is pushing it but I’ll be fine. But if he can have full fluent conversations or something I’ll probably cry.

[ct-multifandom]

S6 ep speculation

Get ready to hear my 80% wrong predictions even though I’m like, super not caught up on this show! It’s still fun to guess. Also this post will be generally leak-free so don’t go replying to it with “uhhh actually from the leaks we know this and that”. Not the place. Warning, this post is incredibly long.

1) Climatiqueen

I lean into the microphone and say, “Aurore”. The crowd erupts into cheers and fervent applause. Everyone shouts and whistles and pumps their arms in the air.

Interesting that they went with the French name for both translations, and she clearly seems to be a powered up version of stormy weather. It’s so fitting to circle around and start this new arc and new butterfly user off with the OG… I just hope we’ll get to learn a little about her character this time (doubtful). She’s gone to the main cast’s school this whole time and was Marc and Zoe’s classmate. It’d be great if they made her an actual recurring character instead of a special NPC. The children yearn for a character who acts like a cunty Mean Girl but isn’t actually a bad person.

I’m guessing this episode will serve as a general intro to the new world, showing us a typical day in the life of LB & CN kind of like the original pilot without dropping any important main plot developments.

2) Dessinatriste/The Illustrhater

Why is nobody talking about how funny the English name is, that’s hilarious. The haterrr. I’m getting very different vibes from both translations emotions-wise. The English title makes it sound like they’re petty or angry rather than sad.

My first thought was Nath because the name follows similar conventions as Dessinateur/Evillustrator in both languages and as one of the earliest and most iconic akumas it might continue this idea of Lila following in Gabriel’s footsteps while first learning how to butterfly.

In early s1, Gabriel was still experimenting with his powers while figuring out what does and doesn’t work when making an akuma. Well actually, since it was Gabriel, he learned absolutely nothing and was shocked when making the same mistakes over and over didn’t give him different results.

I think putting Lila through that same test drive phase would show her being much more analytical and actually develop her skills based on what she learns. In s1, Gabriel had a hard time making The Evillustrator do what he wanted, going so far as to like bloodbend him, then never targeted him again. If Lila was in that situation, she might figure out how to be more persuasive/manipulative/motivational or just learn that she has to choose akumas who will align with her goals in the first place.

Nath is also majorly due for character development. And he might be a pro level hater. It’s odd and a shame that we’ve only seen him once while every other class character has been akumatized like a hundred times atp. I think it’s most likely him.

I’ve seen people bring up that the French name sounds like a pun on the feminine form of the word. While Nath might be a diva, my counter argument is that this might be referring to Kagami, who is also interested in illustration and a girl. <- LMAO [insert Kagaminette joke], I mean “and is a girl”.

We haven’t heard much about her artistic journey in a long time even though it was important enough to mention in that trading card game where they said she secretly wants to make her own manga but lacks the confidence to start even though she has it planned out (super paraphrased).

Since Tomoe will become a greater villain, this could be the opportunity to show it since she’s the reason Kagami is self-conscious about her art. Maybe Tomoe will provoke Kagami into getting akumatized on purpose to test out Lila’s abilities or use her somehow. I’m not sure what her motivations are. Kagami does have, what, four different akuma forms already not counting powered-up ones? Crazy evolution tree, why not add more.

This might be an episode where Kagami becomes more comfortable pursuing what she wants and finding support among Marinette and friends instead of looking for Tomoe’s validation, continuing the plot line from Perfection. Once again, I don’t think it’s likely to be her tho.

3) Sublimation

I’ve seen the leaks and I believe everything I’ve seen has been from this episode. I feel comfortable saying this since it was already released in the official trailer, but the villain here is the coach woman. This episode seems to mostly be focused on this new runner girl character. I won’t elaborate because I don’t think any of the other stuff I know about this ep was in official material, but yeah, very much a new character situation.

You’d think this episode would have something to do with the power of the rooster miraculous, but there is absolutely no indication of that. I like to imagine the writers have a “word of the day” calendar at the office, and when they learned the word sublimation they were like, “hollllyyyy shit you guys, we need more people to know about this”.

4) Daddycop

I expect this to be a Sabrina-centric development episode and would be shocked if it’s not. Her relationship with Roger is pretty interesting since they seem to be on good, loving terms, yet he’s okay with all the Chloe bs and seems apathetic or ignorant to how Sabrina was being treated. Maybe we’ll see some rebellion from her now that she hangs out with other people.

The akuma’s name, to me, implies that Sabrina will be responsible for Roger’s akumatization or at least the main focus of it. Maybe he will become overly protective of her and target anyone who fucks with her or worry that she’s straying from the right path and exaggeratedly try to correct her behavior.

Sabrina’s behavior up to around Penalteam was likely informed by Roger’s influence, possibly more-so than Chloe’s. He had this “doing what you’re told is right” mindset that he instilled in his daughter, so in this episode, she might help him unlearn it. As a cop, he was always mindlessly bossed around by Mayor Bourgeois, so since Andre is gone, Roger will have to think for himself more.

5) Papys Garous/Werepapas

Continuing the theme of dramatic dads, the consensus seems to be that this will be Tom and probably Rolland. I’m not sure why, but Marinette’s always getting up to some silly billy antics, so. Tom doesn’t seem to have any issue with Adrien and idk what type of beef is gonna start for the grandpa to get involved. It might be some misunderstanding situation or another “Chat Noir is on our fucking balcony again, get the broom” moment.

It might very well be the mom and dad though, not the dad and grandpa. People have been talking about how it’s unrealistic that Marinette has been able to keep huge secrets from her parents for so long, so they might snap this time, not because of Adrien, but because she’s been acting shady herself. They might assume she’s getting into trouble. People have been long speculating that Sabine will learn Ladybug’s identity soon, so maybe she will finally have to tell her parents in a situation similar to gang of secrets.

6) Princesse Syren/Sleeping Syren

Ondine yayyyy! Yay! Ondine. Possibly a Kimdine episode to redeem Kim after they ruined his character for no reason and everyone got really mad because it didn’t even make sense. Remember when the instas were still a thing Alya had a post like “hanging out at the pool! Ondine is so awesome idk what she sees in Kim” or something. Yeah. How’d he pull a baddie like her if he’s been acting the way they’ve been showing him to act? Makes no cents luv. I’m dying to see more of their relationship, more of her, and some repair of what they’ve done to Kim.

It sounds like they might be doing some kind of sleeping beauty retelling? Idk how that would make Syren a threat if she’s asleep the whole time, but maybe she’ll still be doing the whole flooding the city with tears thing while she’s sleeping.

I also really hope Ondine will be attending their school now. I want to see her interact with other characters and become more relevant. Please give The People (me) what they want (official Ondine street clothes design). Also they’ve been introducing too many lamely designed girl characters with average heights and athletic-skinny body types. We need the 6ft swole girl to balance them out.

7) El Toro de Piedra

This name is so Ivan-coded that I’m tempted to just say that it’s not him, but why would they make an intentionally misleading Ivan clone. The name is concerning because it sounds like a mix of stoneheart and his hero persona. That makes me think maybe he’ll get akumatized AS Minotaurox. His arc has been about how he’s scared to accidentally harm others because being the first akuma bothered him so deeply. If he’s in a situation where he has to act tough or use force as a hero, he might become upset, worrying that he’s going overboard. I can see him cracking if his fight against an akuma ends up getting a civilian hurt in the crossfire or with someone being scared of him afterwards. Having his regular/akuma and hero forms mix together could compromise his identity.

Also I guess he’s Hispanic? *sonic voice* I didn’t know that. I remember a long while ago they said in an interview to look forward to Ivan lore which is one of the things I am most excited for this season. He is probably THE most underrated character in the show and most overdue for development.

8) Vampigami

Guys I hate to say it. I really hate to say it. My heart wants this to be vampire Kagami sooooo bad but my brain says we aren’t allowed to have nice things. I already suggested a Kagami akuma earlier, and she can totally get akumatized several times a season again because her mom hates her, but I’m not ready to be disappointed like this. I want her to become a badass evil vampire and acquire a Ben 10 arsenal of villain forms, but Vampigami is probably gonna be some stupid shit like Optigami except it looks like a bat instead of a butterfly this time.

I really don’t know what to seriously expect. I can’t imagine vamp referring to anything other than vampire, although it can also mean patching/editing like the word revamp. Gami has only been used in a senti name before to mean oragami. Idk man vampire Kagami is so engrained in my mind that I can’t come up with anything else. Like to charge reblog to cast. Let’s manifest that the writers have finally tuned in to what the people want.

9) Monsieur/Mister Agreste

This has got to be the episode that introduces Adrien’s grandparents, right? Meaning his grandpa is gonna be Gabriel’s dad and the title could stand for three generations of Mr. Agrestes. I’m surprised we haven’t heard much about them yet, but since Gabriel’s dead, it makes sense they’d come around to get his affairs in order or attend the funeral etc etc.

We got a big movie about Emilie’s history and her noble family, but all we know about the Agrestes is that they weren’t rich, and they sold fries. But there’s the weird part: wouldn’t Gabriel’s parents be the Grassettes? How much do they know about his life after he moved out? This episode might show us more about where it all went wrong for the Gabriel of this timeline. Maybe his dad will get akumatized because Gabriel abandoned their family, and he’ll become Mr. Agreste instead of Mr. Grassette to try to fit himself back into Gabriel’s fake narrative. He’ll turn into a rich asshole old guy because he thinks that’s the type of dad Gabriel would have wanted instead of his real self. Dang that’s sad.

10) Le Chateau Noir/The Dark Castle

My first reaction was Chat Noir, but I saw someone say Darkblade which makes so much more sense. I mean Chat Noir getting akumatized is an avengers-level threat, and last time it happened he blew up like everything, plus the episode was pretty late into the season.

Darkblade fits pretty well with the castle thing since he’s a knight. He lost yet another mayoral election, unable to even blame it on corruption this time. On top of it all, the new, fairly elected mayor is his old coworker from school who also didn’t have much political experience. Ouch.

11) Revelator

I’m getting Reverser from the name but only vaguely. This sounds like a similar type of villain to Gold Record who forces people to reveal something about themselves. Maybe this episode will go into how suddenly having secret identities is affecting the other characters’ relationships like Gang of Secrets again or Truth/Lies. If the akuma’s power has to do with revealing secrets, someone may get their identity exposed on accident like in Wishmaker. By that I mean a reveal between characters other than the akuma and the secret they want to find out.

12) Psyconductrice/Wreckless Driver

My first thought here was Max’s mom because she’s a train engineer, but the name seems to imply cars specifically. Totally unrelated, but remember that one poll on here about who’s the hottest MILF in miraculous, and Claudie Kante was in dead last by a lot, even way behind Audrey with her fuckass Anna Wintour bob and horrible child abusing bitter personality? Yeah you all have horrible taste. Democracy is dead and I hope everyone is happy being so goddamn ignorant and wrong. /hj.

On the topic of moms this could still be someone’s mom. I’ve brought up the pattern before: many moms are associated with a mode of transportation that are connected to their villain form. Car: Tomoe, boat: Anarka, train: Claudie, motorcycle: Gina. We could get a bus driver mom, or a trucker or taxi or racecar driver. Imagine. I’ve been saying we need a pilot mom.

Even if this isn’t anyone’s mom, it might be a new character. Idk who else it could be of existing characters.

13) Yaksi Gozen

This bitch again. Boo. I mean she IS super badass actually, but can we comically pull her offstage with a long hooked cane and let someone else have the screentime? I gotta say I am interested in her as a major villain but. Her akuma was cool the first two times and it’s time to calm down.

Clearly there’s something new about her this time. When looking up what yaksi means, it brings up yakshi, a type of nature spirit, but nothing that actually matches with “yaksi”. Maybe she’ll run a greenwashing campaign with her company? That reminds me of Mega Leech and how she wasn’t held accountable for her involvement in that scenario. If she comes under fire, she might get herself akumatized on purpose Collector-style to save face. Does anyone know if yaksi means something else? I’m not convinced it’s supposed to be yakshi without the h.

14) Couchorak/Grendiaper

Gigantitan vibes, possibly a powered-up version of him. When Hawkmoth first akumatized the baby, it was by mistake, and he ended up regretting it because he was hard to control and useless to his cause. Would Lila akumatize a baby on purpose, or is this an accident too? Since there’s a time skip, baby August would be a year older as well, so he’d actually be a toddler now, which might make him less unpredictable.

A shot in the dark I’m gonna make is that this might be Ivan’s younger sister. We know he has one, and while we don’t know her age, it sounds like she’s probably a toddler. We also know that he’s interested in childcare as a career. If I had to guess, I’d say he probably takes care of her often, which might be what gave him the idea. If she gets akumatized, it would be a great setup for his superhero focus episode.

15) La Redresseuse/The Ruler

My hottest take on this whole post is that this one is Mendeleev. Isn’t she the principal now or something? Idk but she’s a strict teacher who needs order, so I think the name matches her because 1: rulers are school supplies, especially for a science teacher who needs everything to be measured exactly, 2: ruler meaning leader with a totalitarian connotation, 3: the French title means straightener which connects to disciplining students or controlling how the school is run.

I think she’ll get akumatized because her students lack respect for her, and her strictness makes them dislike her which actually hurts her feelings as seen in the NY special. She might have a hard time adjusting to this new school system and her new role, not seeing the same positive relationships Bustier and Damocles held with the kids. She’ll go way overboard and turn into an evil school-themed dictator to try and regain control, but then learn her own lesson.

16) Noe

This is most likely a new character or something, but I love the idea that it’s just like, evil Zoe. Zoen’t. Noe.

OR imagine if it’s a more powerful version of Nino’s brother because it’s Noel but without the L, meaning this time, he won’t be taking the L. Coincidence? I think not. He is Lila’s pawn or whatever after all.

In all seriousness I have no idea what this is and the name could mean a lot of things, so I’m gonna just go with a completely new character.

17) La Fee De Beaux Reves/A Fairy Good Night

This is so Pigella energy. Not Rose, Pigella. In Jubilation, we saw how terrifying her power is when used for evil, trapping people in their own daydreams. Maybe she’ll struggle with nightmares or sleep problems and turn into an akuma that forces everyone to get stuck in imagined utopian illusions so they can “rest”. This idea is kind of the opposite of Sandboy and Nightormentor. I’d love to see more of her power and how it can be used for both good and evil, especially since a lot of people seem to think it’s useless or too situational.

18) Les Crassetastrophes/The Dirtifiers

This might be the little kids in another obligatory babysitting episode. The villain name is plural, so it could be a comic relief moment where the kids get mad because they don’t want to clean up or something silly. Otherwise maybe this is another pollution situation? I’m leaning more towards children, though. Another possibility is that we might be getting our first animal akumas.

19) Riginarazione

So I’m pretty set on this being Lila herself. Italian words? Check. Villain name having “queen” (rigina) in it because they can’t be too creative? Check. I’m guessing the pun is supposed to be regeneration rather than “queen ration” so maybe she’s gonna make herself some sort of nearly invincible self-healing villain.

20) Renverse-cœurs/Heartfixer

This sounds like that monstrosity Andre and Audrey turned into. Heart Hunter. I had to Google the name because I erased it from my mind. Out of all the old villains, I’m surprised this is one they’d choose to revamp since it was such a jumpscare, but I can see how they’d want to revisit it in the context of the Bourgeois’s messed up relationship since they were more of a temporary joke villain the first time. Maybe we’ll get some backstory on Chloe and Zoe as kids and who this Lee guy is who’s supposed to be Zoe’s American Dad (goooood morning, USA!). Based on the akuma name… maybe they’re gonna get less divorced. Wouldn’t that be a shocker? Audrey character development? Or maybe they’ll feel the need to keep it together for the kids.

21) Les Titans Chaines/The Chained Titans

I have no idea but it sounds awesome. Clearly more than one person. My first thought was s5 finale energy with the miraculized, like a whole mob of people sharing the same negative emotions. The metal vibes make me think maybe Couffaine family just because they’re so dramatic, and Jagged was a titan in the music industry who didn’t want to feel chained down? Kind of a stretch perhaps. Of course, it could be something new.

22) Lady Chaos

I’m saying Marinette akuma idc. I know people have been making this prediction for the past couple seasons and the writers were saying no but. Episode 22 is the one where shit goes down. Now that Bunnyx is active full time and there’s an entire team of other superheroes, there’s finally a chance to beat her if she does turn evil. I’m guessing it’s gonna be a bad timeline one like the Adrien akumas.

My concern with this type of ep is that they’d Mary Sue her and be like “her power levels are so high that nobody stands a chance against her, the best ladybug ever” even with like 20 heroes fighting her. I don’t think it’d be too bad though, because thinking about Chat Blanc, if she instantly blows up the whole world and the goal is just to undo that timeline, it’d probably be about equivalent.

23) Tristanansi

Using triste in two of the French akuma names is uh… we couldn’t come up with anything more creative? Anyway obv Nora so this could once again be a Nino episode like the first, but it could also (more likely imo) be an Alya one. Nora has a fiery personality and strong opinions so maybe Lila could’ve taken advantage of that to manipulate her kind of like what happened with Jalil. We were briefly introduced to a character who is her friend or boyfriend last season, and he may be more relevant this time, like maybe they have a fight. Similar to Sentibubbler, maybe Lila is targeting Alya’s family to try and get information out of her or steal the fox miraculous.

24) La Reine de Frayeurville/Queen of the Dreadzone

Other people have been saying this could be a Halloween special but… I want to say this might be a powered up Horrificator. This might be one of those episodes where they make it more lighthearted before the finale, and we haven’t seen her act on her own since s1 which is like the whole point of her akuma. She isn’t effective at all in groups and everyone’s been kinda desensitized to what’s supposed to be scary about her. Maybe they’re bringing her back scarier. Mylene has come far with her phobias, so they’d need something to really scare her.

I remember something about a proposed Halloween special taking place in the catacombs, which is coincidentally where Lila’s lair is. There might be a connection where the gang figures out she’s there, and something spooky goes wrong while investigating. The Paris catacombs are an understandable place to get scared in and a great setting for horror.

25) Protocole Secret/Secret Protocol

26) Nemesis

^^^ Ok I don’t know what specifically to say about the finale except that they’re probably gonna fight self-akumatized Lila since they tend to be kind of unpredictable.

What I do want to do is bring everything together and point out that Lila knows the identities of like half the heroes from the beginning because she stole Nathalie’s iPad or whatever happened. In Miracle Queen: Alya, Nino, Luka, Kagami, Kim, and Max had their identities revealed, which was relevant again in Optigami. Alix didn’t even try to keep a secret. Lila can easily connect that five of these people are her former classmates and all of them are friends, so she must have figured out that the rest of the heroes are also from their group. In the London special, it didn’t take a lot of hard work to uncover Marinette’s identity. She also targeted Kagami last season on a personal level. Side note, I have no clue if she knows Felix is Argos or not. That point is unclear to me, but I’m gonna assume she does since Gabriel knew.

We have Marinette, Adrien, Juleka, Rose, Mylene, Ivan, Zoe, Marc, Nath, and Sabrina left in the safe zone. I predicted most of these characters will get akumatized, and I believe Lila will be targeting them on an individual level under the suspicion that they’re on the team. It’s likely that she will even expose some if not a lot of them. In fact, she might have gone after Ondine as a red herring because she’s friends with them and King Monkey’s gf. From her perspective, Marinette could be one of the superheroes just as easily as anyone else could.

I’m not too worried about Adrien since he’s been the best at staying secretive, and Lila might not even suspect him because of the idealized yet untrue preconceived notions she has about him.

She may also be going down the list to see who does and doesn’t show up to each fight, making ladybug feel the need to call the minimum number of people to help her, which would solve the narrative problem of “why can’t ladybug sic the whole team on every akuma”. Discounting any Mirage tricks, having a certain hero help fight an akuma would tell Lila that the akuma is for sure not that hero. And obviously if every hero except one shows up that’s uh… suspicious.

Something very interesting is that out of all these characters, the episode I predicted to focus on Sabrina is one where the akuma is not her. Perhaps Lila will overlook her because she only recently made new friends, thinking she’d never be trusted with a miraculous. This same mistake of underestimating Sabrina is what led to her downfall the first time, so it’d be poetic if Sabrina managed to play the spy twice.

I did not predict any of these episodes to potentially be a Juleka akuma, but you know this girl will never in her life catch a break, especially with the rest of the pattern I’ve laid out above. Which episode do you think is secretly gonna be Reflekta? I guarantee you it’s one of them.

As a final note, I think Nathalie will be instrumental in helping the team identify Lila as the villain. They’re very unlikely to defeat her this season for good, but Nathalie knew about Lila’s little internship with Gabriel, and she was the one who originally had all the grimoire pages and Optigami identity data digitalized. She may recognize that information has been stolen or connect that Lila may have had the opportunity to physically take the butterfly miraculous by entering the lair. She’s in a unique spot because she’s the only one who knows this much about Lila’s villain plans, but also knows Ladybug’s identity now. I’m interested to see her role as a redeemed ally to the team.

Aaaaand that’s my novel length essay. Thanks for making it to the end. As always, I’m interested in hearing what other people think! (I feel like a YouTuber doing an outro lol) I’m excited to see the first episode soon which is actually gonna be the second episode I guess. So close! Off to an incredible start. I want to hear other theories!

[meichenxi]

Yesterday I was walking back home at 15:30 and it was already dark, and I couldn't help thinking: where the hell has the year gone? It was light until 11 last month, I swear. And predictably, cue thoughts about impending doom/age/passing of time etc

And then I stopped because. I was thinking: oh god, in ten years time I'm going to be thirty two, that's like, CHILDREN age.

But how much have we done in the last ten years??

I mean: grown up (bit), dealt with school, dealt with love and loss and friendship, left school behind, made a new beginning, navigated the beginning of adulthood. That's not nothing.

But how much time did we have age twelve for the things we liked compare to now? How much responsibility? How much freedom to be bored, without the distraction of a phone or the internet, to go outside or engage in creativity? I think it's time we cut ourselves some slack really.

Here's the other thing. I was thinking of what had changed my life in those years that is still applicable to this day: age twelve, I didn't know a word of German. And now, despite not having actively studied it in five years (oops) since I left school, you're telling me that I can read my favourite books in German? The Silmarillion in German?? After five years at school?

I try to be positive a lot of the time and fail to convince myself: but this was genuinely a hugely exciting realisation for me for a number of reasons.

One: five years isn't actually that long. When I despair about getting 'old' (shut up Melissa) and opportunities dwindling, think of how far you could go with a language or any other skill in five years!! We as a community tend to think in terms of short term goals: pass this exam, become conversational in three months, blah blah blah. But realistically what we should be aiming to build isn't language skills, but the mindset and curiousity and habits of someone who enjoys learning languages. And, you know, if it takes you longer than three months to reach 'fluency', wow, Benny Lewis was lying to you, what a surprise. In the long term, the things you invest in will pay off: you just need to take time. Also, if it takes longer than five years? Each language has its quirks, and you have different time and priorities at different life stages. I have spent SO much more time on German than French or Spanish, probably 3x or 4x as much though I did all three until the end of secondary school, and yet I can still read French and Spanish academia easier than German. It's annoying, but it's ok. German academia is hard. Similar with Chinese: reading the Silmarillion after five years of study?? You must be absolutely mad. Bonkers I tell you. That's also OK. I still get excited that I can understand the train announcements - different languages have different priorities.

Two: your brain is incredibly powerful, and passive knowledge, while not the same as active knowledge, doesn't decrease. Ok, it's very much demonstrably true that if you don't speak a language for five years regularly you'll get rusty. That's the case with my German, and that's what is called language attrition, and it can happen in languages you've had from birth as well. Your listening and reading abilities may also suffer from lack of use: but if you have a solid foundation in the language (I don't mean ordering yakisoba), you won't forget it if you don't use it. It just takes a while to reactive it because the neural pathways you have for quickly recalling a word are strengthened less and are thus inhibited to make it easier for words you use more frequently. Any use of those pathways will strengthen them again. There have been case studies of people with severe amnesia who nevertheless are able to function perfectly well in second languages: they cannot acquire new words largely, but they can still use the Italian they learnt as an exchange student in their 20s, as long as they had a strong foundation. You don't forget passive knowledge. I spent five months in Germany, speaking only German, and when I got back to the UK it took me about two or three weeks before I could comfortably speak in English again about what I had done. It also depends on what you're talking about - talking about my school years always came naturally, of course, as would be expected, because I had attended school in English. It would be if it didn't. Talking about my work in Germany to this day remains difficult in English, even though it's my first language, because I have such strong associations of it in German. I don't know how to say 'Freiwilliges Soziales Jahr' or 'Landschulheim' or 'Betreuungsgruppe' in English, because I never had to.

This is SO important. In polyglot circles there is as much talk of maintaining languages as of learning them and that's because it's recognised that language maintainance is critically important. There's also a lot of talk of reactivating languages - of spending an intense short time period re-immersing yourself in that language in order to be able to speak it again. So if you feel your speaking skills are slipping because, well, you don't speak: that's to be expected, and it's completely fine, not something to beat yourself up about.

It's also semi-wild. I don't recall learning a lot of the German I have learnt because I was fairly young, and learnt through immersion with books and so often lack exact translations. But it's wild to me that if you slapped, I don't know, the Brothers Grimm in front of me and asked me to read it, I could do it without any problem. But if you asked me in English to tell you what essentially any of the more uncommon fairytale-like words used in such stories were in German, I'd have absolutely no idea. Pail? Calluses? Scabbard? Gizzard? ? No idea.

But my brain hasn't forgotten; it's just deemed these are not useful words for me to be able to access quickly.

But isn't that actually so exciting?? Think of how long it's taken you to get this far with your target language. That's not actually that long.

And think of everything you could do, and will do, within the next ten years.

加油！

- 梅晨曦

[lovelikedestiny]

May trust be my blanket

With a startled blink Nile accepts the car keys Andy is holding out to her without a word and with a clearly encouraging look that does not allow any contradiction. Of course, it is not uncommon for Nile to drive their getaway car, although it took Andy a while to voluntarily give up her place behind the wheel. But when the others are busy giving them cover or when Nile is the only one with functioning limbs or the fastest, she's behind the wheel and steers them out of the danger zone.

But today is the first time that Andy gives her the keys without a protest, or a laughable discussion and Nile doesn't know why. Neither Andy, nor Joe or Booker are injured, so they have to heal and therefore cannot drive, and the mission actually went off without a lot of blood and guts. Nile finally has no blood in her hair, which is really hard to get out and her shirt only has two holes in it and luckily is not one of her favorite tops. However, Nile has learned to listen to her superiors and to trust their decisions and it is natural that she sees Andy as her boss. The others do that too and with Andy's badass charisma and her iron will, it's no wonder. So, Nile slides behind the steering wheel and starts the car while Andy takes the passenger seat and Joe and Booker climb into the back seats. As soon as Nile drives off, she sees in the rearview mirror how Joe's knee jerks restlessly up and down and his dark gaze constantly scans the area outside the window. It is very likely that he will not relax until they have picked up Nicky. And Nile, who has often observed the centuries-old couple interacting with each other, cannot blame him. Nicky and Joe kind of come in twos and just like everything else they do, they're disgustingly cute even on missions. The alley in which they are supposed to pick up Nicky is a few minutes away from their place of work and is inconspicuous. The Italian acted as their sniper during this mission and was positioned in a skyscraper near the office complex, from where he had a perfect field of vision and the greatest possible range of fire. Nicky had been lying in wait there for three days because Copley had been unable to narrow down the time window for their target's arrival. Nile would have been too impatient for this job and is still wondering how Nicky manages to lie motionless for hours in front of a telescopic sight waiting for the one ideal shot, but the former crusader has more patience than anyone else Nile knows. Because of this, she was glad that she, Andy, Booker and Joe had to make sure that no one was around to make things as easy as possible. Nile would rather have something to do than to be condemned to wait somewhere and she would have gone mad in the sniper's nest that Nicky had set up in a small apartment. They haven't seen Nicky for three days, couldn't give up their covers to be ready at all times, and the separation from his husband pretty obviously gnaws at Joe. But even Nile cannot deny having missed Nicky, who is a calm and grounding constant in their small group. There is no way she can tell whether Nicky was bothered by being alone, the Italian is not a man of many words and mostly quiet, but she hates not having anyone to talk to and would probably have started talking with a bag of chips or a granola bar. Even though Nicky had been physically separated from them, his radio announcements had continued to be gentle and reassuring, and he had even joked with them - this man's humor is dry as a desert and comes out when Nile least expects it. As soon as she steers the car into the alley, Nicky steps out of the shadows of a building, equipment casually slung over his shoulder, but Nile can see that his steps are slow and exaggeratedly clear, as if struggling to walk properly. There is nothing she can do about the emerging worry in her stomach, but the worried flame is dimmed a little when she cannot see any blood on his clothes and finds no further signs of a fight on him. So, he's just exhausted. And Nile can handle that, she wouldn't feel differently after spending three days in one position either. Exhaustion is far better than any of the unexpected complications guns and death bring with them. The getaway car hasn't even come to a complete halt when Joe opens the back door and Booker gets up from his seat and makes himself comfortable on the floor, which Nile registers with furrowed eyebrows. Why does Booker sit on the floor when there's enough room in the back for him, Joe and Nicky? Especially since the sniper rifle and Nicky's backpack are just being stowed away in the trunk? "Ciao,” Nicky finally says quietly, the small smile that is so typical for him plays around the corners of his mouth and he steps in with a barely audible groan. "Hello, my heart," Joe replies warmly, his hands clasping Nicky's face and for a few seconds he and Nicky stay like this, their foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air and this gesture is more intimate than any couple action Nile has ever seen on the street or at her school. On closer inspection, Nile sees the dark circles under Nicky's light eyes, which make them appear even larger, and the lines of exhaustion that mark his face. Without thinking, she reaches back with one hand and gently squeezes his upper arm and Nicky grips her hand with his and gives her a soft look. "Were there any problems?" Andy asks when Joe closes the door and after Nicky carefully shakes his head, Andy turns around, puts a hand on his neck and kisses Nicky's forehead. It's over as fast as it started and Nile wonders if she just imagined it. “Well done, team. Then let's go, I want to take a fucking shower.” Nile obediently starts the car again but is still more than aware that Booker is sitting on the floor. The French pats Nicky, who sits heavily on the back seat, on his knee and nods at him with an encouraging smile and Nile's eyes almost fall out of her head when Nicky lifts his legs and lies down completely on the back seat. His head rests in Joe's lap, who softly whispers something to him in their personal language and caresses his head at regular intervals. He's too big to stretch out in the back seat, but Nicky doesn't seem to mind. With his knees slightly drawn up he lies on his side, his arms crossed over his chest and then he closes his eyes. When you live with people under the same roof, it is inevitable that at some point you will learn their sleeping habits and that is exactly why Nile stares at Nicky through the rearview mirror with an open mouth. The Italian is always the first to start the day and no matter what time Nile gets up, Nicky is always up before her in the kitchen and is already preparing coffee. Joe is as far from being a morning person as the earth is from Neptune and can sleep anywhere, in the most impossible positions. A bomb could go off next to him and Joe wouldn't even flinch. Booker has an irregular sleep rhythm, and this is also reflected in the times he gets up: sometimes he is at the breakfast table in the morning, then you don't see him until noon and occasionally he crawls out of his room for dinner. And Andy is scratchy like a fury if she doesn't get at least six hours of sleep and woe to those who deny her her precious sleep. Nile herself has fixed times to go to bed and get up, unless missions require otherwise. But of all of them Nicky is the lightest sleeper, immediately on alert when a suspicious noise sounds, a gun in hand, while Nile is still blinkingly trying to figure out her name. She has never seen him sleep so open outside of a safe house and that is a clear sign of how exhausting the three days must have been for him. Joe's muttered words are a pleasant background noise for Nile even if she doesn't understand the meaning, Joe's tender tone and loving gaze speak for themselves. Her attention is divided between the street and the back seat because somehow Nile can't get rid of the feeling that something important is going on there. Booker's hand is on Nicky's leg, and is the French drawing circles with his thumb on the skin hidden under the fabric? He has moved a little closer to the bench, as close as possible in the space between the back and the front seats and stares at the floor lost in thought as if he were touching Nicky unconsciously. Nonetheless, the naturalness of this gesture and the fact that Booker gave up the seat way earlier seem to come from some kind of repetition and Nile bites her tongue so as not to blurt out questions and thereby wake Nicky, whose slow breathing and relaxed limbs indicate that he really has fallen asleep . The intention to be as quiet as possible vanishes when Andy loosens her seat belt and makes as if to climb back over the center console. "What the...? Are you kidding me? Sit the fuck down again, Andy!” Nile protests and tries to prevent Andy with one hand from continuing her way and pushing her back onto her seat. The older warrior slaps her hand aside as if it were a fly and pays no attention to Nile's angry voice. "Keep your eyes on the road, kid," she instructs Nile and has already completely disappeared into the back. "Eyes on the road my ass!" Nile replies with a violent snort but puts her free hand back on the steering wheel. “Seat belts don't exist in cars for nothing, if you've noticed! And...” She falls silent, only now noticing how loud she has been talking and looks worriedly in the rearview mirror to check if Nicky has woken up. To her own astonishment, his eyes are still closed, one of his hands is now holding Joe's left hand tightly against his chest, fingers interlaced. "Don't worry, Nile," Joe says with a reassuring smile. “You don't have to be overly quiet. Just behave normally.” Nile is not convinced. She knows that a drop of water could wake Nicky. "Isn't Nicky going to wake up then?" She asks, her voice carefully lowered. "No," Booker replies, rearranging his position to make room for Andy without letting go of Nicky's leg. “At least not now. Nicky is a light sleeper, but after such missions he sleeps like a stone.” He laughs with a snort. “I once laid behind a sniper rifle for three hours and was exhausted. Nicky has just stared through a telescopic sight for three days in a row, if you don't count the short breaks." Nile dutifully looks at the street in front of them and turns on a blinker. “But why is he sleeping now? And doesn't wait until the safe house?” Nicky always checks double and triple whether all doors are locked, how best to sleep in order to better ward off possible attackers and he always lies between Joe and the door. Joe once told her that Nicky was a protector and that even if they were just shopping, Nicky would keep an eye on everything around them. So the fact that he is asleep in the backseat of a getaway car is more than unusual - even when he is exhausted. "Because he trusts us." Andy squeezes herself into the space next to Booker and supports herself with one hand on Joe's knee, the other curls around the curve of Nicky's shoulder. "He has faith that we will protect him and ourselves and that you will bring us safely to the safe house." Nile did not expect the emotional impact of this statement and drives for several seconds in silence to choke down the lump in her throat. That Nicky trusts her touches her more than she would admit and every time something like that happens – small gestures of affection from the others to her – she feels a little more at home. The immortals cannot replace her real family, but they are there for Nile and love her and Nile is amazed to find that she loves Andy, Booker, Nicky and Joe too. Their strange ability, the dreams, everything connects them, and Nile believes, not for the first time, that they really are not meant to be alone. "Then I'll try not to disappoint him, huh?" She asks jokingly, hoping to cover up her short, emotional dropout and is grateful when Joe deliberately takes the bait. He chuckles softly and pulls Nicky closer to him. "Nicolo would certainly be anything but thrilled if he woke up in a car that was about to hit a tree." "You're one to talk." Booker's laugh is interrupted by a grunt as Joe kicks him in the side. "When cars were invented, you and Andy made fun of driving them against obstacles." "It was fun,” Andy says with a grin as if it justified deliberately driving a car into walls or the like. “And who could have thought that cars would last? We thought it was a short-term invention and wanted to use it as long as it existed.” Nile shakes her head in disbelief, still not wanting to believe that these four people in the back seat have been on earth for centuries and have seen so many famous personalities, buildings or inventions. "If Nicky didn't sleep, I would now brake check you so that you could get what's coming," she informs the others dryly. "Hey, I didn't do anything," Booker protests. "At least wait until I have buckled up. Then I'll take Nicky and you can give Joe and Andy a concussion and bruises." "Nicky stays with me," Joe shrugs off Booker's suggestion amused and presses a very gentle kiss on Nicky's temple. Nile only sees the smile ghosting over Nicky's lips because she wants to make sure that Andy, who utters a kind of short bark, doesn't start a fight with Booker. Even in his sleep, Nicky's entire being is focused on Joe and Nile can't help but smile too. "Okay, when you children have calmed down again, you can tell me what the meaning of the touches is," she interrupts Andy's questionable explanation of the fact that she does not need a seat belt because there were no seat belts for horse backs back then either. "Touches?" Andy asks, peering over her shoulder through strands of dark hair at Nile. "What do you mean by that?" "What do I mean with...?" Nile starts in disbelief and then gestures at the immortals, as good as possible without taking her eyes off the traffic. “I can still understand that with Joe, after all, he and Nicky are basically married. But Booker hasn't let go of Nicky's leg since the beginning of the ride and you, Andy, climbed back to touch Nicky's shoulder.” Booker fixes his gaze on the said hand of his. "Oh," he says as if he is only now fully aware of what he is doing, but he doesn't pull his hand back. "That." “Yes, that,” Nile repeats. Hopefully in a few decades she will not be as slow on the uptake as the others can sometimes be. "Does it have a purpose? Do I have to know anything? Because if this is a polygamy thing, as a new member of this family I have a right to know." While Booker chokes in the back and Joe gives a surprised and open laugh, Andy doesn't flinch. "Don't shit yourself, kid, only Nicky and Joe fuck like rabbits in this family." Joe snorts. "Objection! Booker and you don't live like monks and nuns either. And besides, Nicky and I look a lot better than rabbits during sex.” "Oh god..." Nile mumbles, rolling her eyes and cursing herself for the mention of polygamy. "Can you just answer my question without talking about your sex life?" "You're the one who accused us of polygamy," Andy notes, but her focus is already back on Nicky, who hasn't moved a muscle in the whole time. "I didn't accuse you of polygamy," Nile defends indignantly, but feels embarrassed as her cheeks get hot. It's good that it's not as noticeable for her as it is when Nicky blushes. "Yes...uh, to get back to your question," Booker luckily intervenes and saves Nile from further embarrassing stuttering, even though he doesn't do a better job. “Nicky...uh...doesn't particularly like it when he's apart from us. He then has the feeling that he is not...uhm..." He looks for help at Andy, who ignores him and caresses Nicky's shoulder, so that Booker turns to Joe to find a suitable phrase. "Nicky then has the feeling that he couldn't protect us so well,” Joe finishes the sentence and looks down at Nicky with a gentle smile, he seems to be addressing his next words directly to the Italian instead of Nile or the others. “That is of course not true, after all he watches over us with eagle eyes, ready to eliminate any danger from his sniper's nest. But Nicky has always tended to worry too much.” Nile can feel the warmth of the immense devotion in his dark eyes in the front and has the feeling of observing something very intimate between him and Nicky, whereby the Italian continues to be deep and sound asleep.

In sleep every person has a vulnerability that shows how fragile life is and seeing Nicky sleeping so openly without a gun in his reach, because he feels safe with them, makes Nile's heart beat with joy. "So, you touch him afterwards to show him that he is no longer separated from you?" She asks and is amazed at the gentle tone of her voice, which has adapted to the atmosphere in the car, which suddenly goes deeper than fun foolery. Although she can only see Andy's profile from the side, she recognizes the thoughtful nod anyway. "Yes," Andy says, her steely gray eyes rest on Nicky with a tenderness that the older one does not show so often. “We got into the habit of touching him after such missions, so Nicky knows that his family is there. And he doesn't have to worry.”

Read more on AO3 ;)

[rigelmejo]

Clozemaster ain’t a perfect app but I gotta admit it’s specific form of gamification DOES motivate me

I’m currently doing it on my downtime while watching stuff etc, since I don’t have time to read for 30+ minutes lately.

The upsides of clozemaster: it is like anki/Memrise in that it is based in space repetition to help you remember things, it has audio, it is ordered by common words so I know I’m learning useful stuff, it is based on sentences so I get some reading practice (way less then usual but the trade off is I actually THINK about these sentences whereas when I read i speed through as long as I vaguely get it), and UNLIKE memrise/anki and other flashcard apps this is NOT slow

Clozemaster sessions take me about 1 minute each to go through 10 cards. And that’s so satisfying since, as we know, I take usually 1 hour to get through 10 flashcards. And because of the fact it’s presented in sentences, I feel I also get to pick up some extra new cards per sentence and review other partially known words besides JUST what the card is for primarily. Anki is also technically “like this” when you use sentence cards but anki takes me 1 hr to get through 10 cards so... nfmdksk

Clozemaster also purposely stops you after 10 cards. So you don’t burn out or feel it’s endless and start hating it (me on anki/memrise etc). I can just do one quick 1 minute round when a shows opening is playing or a video is loading or I’m waiting for tea kettle to boil. It’s easy to add them in without feeling overwhelmed. Also just for me... Clozemaster aesthetically/design wise suits me - it looks easily readable but like an arcade game, all I have to do is click and it grades me so I don’t have to focus too hard or stop what I’m doing (with memrise I have to type, with anki I have nothing grading me so I judge myself and that stresses me ans slows me down). It makes cute noises when you finish a round, and plays a gif when you studied X amount more cumulatively. It also paces reviews so that even if you haven’t touched the app, you see some new sentences each time (which is WAY more suited to me a random user who isn’t consistent, compared to memrise/anki that SWAMP you with hundreds of reviews if you haven’t used them in a while).

Finally, the biggest positive AND negative to me: it shows you your overall % progress through the sentences after each round. As in, out of 5-20k sentences how many have you studied so far. For Chinese? This is super motivating because doing 5 rounds (5 minutes) gets me through a whole percent. And the higher that percent gets the more I feel “satisfied” I’m making progress. But with French?? That percent moved like 0.05 or 0.005 per session or something ridiculously low (because there were like 10k sentences, versus 3k sentences for the Chinese fast track). So I felt demotivated like I would NEVER get through any lol.

I should say, a way around this is that when you click details it shows how much you got through each “level” like 100 most common words, 500 most common, 1000 most common, etc. And that breakdown is much MORE motivating. Because whether you have 3k or 10k sentences it still progresses you significantly through each level. So that’s what I’ve been looking at to see if I’m starting to “make a dent” in less common words.

Which, genuinely, I DO appreciate seeing this breakdown with Clozemaster. It’s similar to why I preferred memrise to anki - memrise has every course broken into levels, so you get THROUGH a level and feel you’ve made progress. With anki like 8k cards are in one deck, and online ankiweb doesn’t show the number u have gone through, so it feels like I endlessly am not making progress. At least to me I Need to see a visual reminder I’ve gotten something done. Otherwise I get demotivated fast.

Overall clozemaster is about as good as it was last time I used it for French: good for intermediate when u find reading a bit hard/want to make reasing easier/don’t have time to read. not great for beginners because there ARE errors in some sentences, so knowing basic words helps a lot with noticing which sentences are NOT literal and just need to be marked “mastered’” so you can skip them - a beginner would not necessarily skip these and might waste time trying to study them. And it’s also you know full sentences, so particularly for Japanese and Chinese learners there’s tons of kanji and Hanzi and having a base of known ones already makes the sentences approachable compared to a MESS of scary unknowns. Also - at least with the Chinese sentences - it’s mostly simplified chinese but some sentences have traditional Hanzi (common ones), and an upper beginner/intermediate learner will probably recognize them but a beginner might be totally thrown off by it. I did try the Chinese sentences as a beginner (and the Japanese ones once), and the difficulty of the characters is a big reason it’s just a bit STEEPLY difficult until you know some basics. Then it’s as easy as graded readers. I do think the apps own words: that it’s good to use after duolingo, to bridge the gap into getting into native content - is accurate. It’s beginning sentences are harder than duolingo, but easy and just right if you already think duolingo is too easy for you. And they do help bridge the gap from target language content being to hard, into it becoming approachable. (That’s how it was when I used it for French).

—

On a lighter note: what prompted me to get back into Clozemaster? On Reddit a learner got 10% through the fast track in spanish, is just doing Clozemaster and watching Spanish shows in Spanish, and they’re around B1 now. While yeah their comprehension is probably higher than their production, even if they’re only “A2” that’s great progress made! And I do see it technically being possible - Clozemaster is in a lot of ways like concentrated graded reader sentences made mostly exactly for your reading level plus a touch higher constantly, in audio/reading format, with built in review you don’t have to think about, organized from most common to least common words. So of course it should work fine as a study app at least as well as anki sentence decks (but easier for me to fucking study from because of the above mentioned Motivator/Focus differences). Add srs sentence study with Clozemaster to actual immersion for LONGER amounts of exposure, and I can see how a learner would make progress.

So anyway, that person got to a decent level by hitting 10% and motivated me to want to hit 10% too cause DANG if they can so can I! Plus lately reasing has been easier, but I do know “concentrated” study tends to give me like a temporary boost in comprehension that makes reading/listening even Easier for a while until I solidly learn what I crammed. And I just have limited time for reading rn, and sentences are the closest. (Aka at least I’m doing SOMETHING for now... and Clozemaster has helped boost me up in the past with French, so why not, can’t hurt...)

[astxlphe-fics]

let me live (let me die)

In which Noé wanders off and meets someone new. Meanwhile, Astolfo faces Jean Ténèbre

Chapter 4/?

< Chapter 3 || Chapter 5 >

Content warning : mentioned character death, violence

Of course, Noé wanders off — he wouldn’t be Noé Archiviste if he doesn't wander off. He’s curious and restless, and no matter how long he tries, he just can’t stand there and wait.

So, when he’s kicked out of the room, Noé starts wandering off.

This Antonio doesn’t seem willing to just give out the information they need, so maybe Noé can find it himself. In the past few years, he learned that sometimes, the best way to get information is to avoid asking, but sneak around and find out by yourself.

Better apologize later than ask for permission and being told “no”.

Murr in tow, he goes to explore.

He, somehow, manages to find the archives they passed a few minutes earlier. It’s quiet, and he takes the opportunity to look quickly through the shelves, hoping to find something on the vampire they are looking for.

There are records about him, but nothing recent enough. All he finds are reports upon reports, spanning decades , of a former Chevalier gone rogue with his brother, a thief and conman with a taste for blood, human and vampire alike, who was last seen 6 months ago near the coast, though the operation targeting him failed due to “outside intervention”.

“This is what Antonio referred to earlier, right?” he asks Murr, who sends him flat look, and Noé's eyebrows knit themselves together in worry. The file with the details is missing, along with several others, leaving several empty spots on the shelf, so he can’t be sure, but this is definitely something Astolfo would do.

“Anyone here?” someone calls out from deeper into the archives. Noé winces. He didn’t think anyone would be here, but now that someone is calling out to him, he realizes that archives should have an archivist.

He puts the files back where they belong and, accidentally knocking a chair down on the way, sneaks out of the room, turns at the nearest corner and finds himself into another.

This one seems to be the guardroom. It’s empty and, not for the first time, he wonders where all the chasseurs have gone. They are, though, several pieces of spare equipment in the closet, some which are small enough to fit in his pockets. He takes several, just in case.

He breathes in deeply. Everything is okay, he hasn’t been—

A yelp catches him by surprise.

— caught.

He turns on his heels, hands raised. “Wait, I—”

Another order given in Italian, which he is sure means “ don’t move”, or at least something along those lines.

He stares at the young woman in front of him, her skin a warm brown and dark hair shaved short, a file tucked under her elbow. She stares back at him, black eyes narrowed, then she swiftly slips something out of the sleeve of her white coat and points it at him, still speaking to him in Italian.

Something about not moving, again.

“I’m not an intruder— I mean, yes I am, but I came with Astolfo and I— uh — got lost?”

She narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, lowering the blade — a scalpel, Noé notices. “Astolfo? Astolfo Granatum?” When he nods, she lowers her makeshift weapon. She raises her free hand to about ear level, and changes language to French. “Are you sure?”

Is he sure he is with Astolfo? What kind of question is that? “He’s about this tall,” he says, hand raising up just a little under his shoulder. “With pink hair?”

“God, I can’t believe Astolfo is back.” She nods, tense, and her weapon disappears back in her sleeve. Then, she shakes her head from side to side. “Although I’m terribly sorry for the rudeness, if I had known...” She shakes her head again, pinching her lips. “In my defense, I’ve never seen you here before, and who would except him to bring a friend —”

“We’re not,” Noé corrects and when she glances at him with a raised eyebrow, he explains: “We’re not friends, I don’t even like him, we are simply travelling together for a while. He’s meeting with someone called Antonio.” He smiles at her, reassuring. “So, don’t worry about the rudeness, mademoiselle. I wasn’t very polite myself, intruding into your headquarters with no warning. I’m sorry.”

“He’s meeting with Antonio?” she repeats, all offense forgotten, her lips pulling down into a concerned frown. “This can’t go well. They haven’t been getting along, lately.”

“It wasn’t going well when I was kicked out.” Noé sighs. “He told me they were friends, but it doesn’t look like it.”

“They used to be close, but not anymore, not since—” She grimaces, and her shoulders slump. “Astolfo has changed a lot since he went to Paris, in good and bad, and when he came back a few months ago—” She trails off, and goes quiet.

“What happened when he came back?” Noé asks. The woman doesn’t seem willing to elaborate, and she looks at him again with renewed suspicions.

“Why do you want to know?”

“We’re working together.” It doesn’t sound like enough of an explanation. “He’s looking for the Chevalier Ténèbre, and I want to help.”

Hearing those words, she makes a face. “Oh no. I—” She grabs the files she keeps under her elbow. “Since they’ll be moving out against him soon, I’ve been studying those to prepare for the next round of injuries. I’m Isabella, by the way, I’m the doctor here.” She draws out her hand, and Noé shakes it, hesitant. As if she senses his unease, she goes on: “Don’t worry, I'm a regular doctor, I don't do experiments.” Her eyes take on a determined gleam. “I think you will understand better if I show you.”

Taking the file as she hands it out to him, he flips it open. It’s a report, stamped with a bright red “archives copy”, and the medical report attached has Astolfo’s name on it – a word is scratched out with black marker where his first name should be, an “Astolfo” written by hand in a big, looping handwriting just above it. It’s probably the files missing from the archives’ shelves, and Noé can’t believe his luck.

It’s curiosity that pushes him to look through it. Another page confirms his suspicions with heavy injuries and near death and descriptions of bloody wounds and torn flesh and an infection.

“That idiot ,” he mutters, the worry quickly shifting to frustration, and Isabella hums in agreement.

“He really is. It didn’t look pretty. I’m— I’m the one who took care of him, it took days before he was well enough to get out of bed and he left before I discharged him.” She glares hard at the words printed on the papers. “I hadn’t seen him in at least six years. Can you imagine? Your friend leaves for over six years, doesn’t even send a letter, and then – when they brought him in, I thought he was dead ." Her voice breaks slightly on the last word. "I had never seen Antonio look so scared, either.”

Of course, Astolfo didn’t tell him. He has no obligation to do so, Noé knows, but he can’t help but feel the slightest resentment and frustration at the memories of Astolfo’s claims of being able to handle himself when there is definite proof that he can’t .

But no, he’s Astolfo Granatum and doesn’t need anyone for anything. He is just going to keep walking straight to his death until he actually dies.

“Antonio?” he asks. “I didn’t think he would be so worried for Astolfo.”

“Are you kidding me?” She snorts. “Don’t let his attitude make you think Antonio doesn’t care; he seems to believe that the harsher he is, the further away from here and the Chevalier Astolfo will stay. It doesn't work, obviously." No, it doesn't look like it does, it just seems to make Astolfo more persistent. "Additionally, he has just been so angry since Marco died.” She pauses, looking at him quizzically. “Have you heard about Marco?”

“I’ve met him a few times.” He didn’t know him well, but he seemed kind, at least kind enough to somewhat temperate the explosive Astolfo.

She frowns. “Wait, how long have you known Astolfo?” Her question about Marco, Noé figures, lets her appraise how close he is to Astolfo, but his answer isn't what she expected, so she must have assumed they met in the past six months. Noé admitting to knowing Marco though, gives her a different time scale and more questions about their potential relationship.

“Three years.” When her eyebrows raise in disbelief, he elaborates, running a hand through his hair and smiling sheepishly. “We hated each other at first. We still don’t get along, but I think we’re past the attempted murders and limb cutting phase.” He wiggles the fingers of his left hand, and the joints click and clack with the movement.

“The what now?” she groans. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s always strange to hear about what he got up to in France.”

A door slams shut in the distance, cutting him off before he can answer, and he skims through the rest of the file, trying to find anything useful on the Chevalier before he regroups with Astolfo.

“You said they were going to move out again soon?” he asks, trying to get them back on track.

Isabella nods. “Uhm — yes— it’s supposed to be tonight. In a few hours. Hopefully, Antonio will get Astolfo out of the city before it starts.” She looks up to Noé with severe eyes. “You two need to leave.”

She’s the second person who isn’t so happy to see Astolfo back, but it’s the gravity of her tone that makes it click. “He is in Florence, isn’t he?”

The Chevalier Ténèbre has last been seen in this very city. In Florence. All the chasseurs on duty are patrolling the area before he makes more victims here, which explains the headquarters’ persistent silence.

He is way closer than they thought.

Noé needs to find Astolfo, and fast.

He grabs both of Isabella’s hands in his own. “I’m very sorry, but I need to go now. Thank you so much for your help!”

“You’re going to help him, right?” He nods, so she continues: “He won’t listen to us, but maybe you will: I know he says he’ll be okay, but he can’t fight the Chevalier on his own.” She looks straight at him with gravity. “He will die.”

“He won’t. Not on my watch. I promise!”

And she bites her lower lips, unsure. “I hope you’re right. Do you need help finding your way back to Antonio’s office?”

Noé stops right at the door, hesitant, and Isabella laughs. “Come on, I’ll guide you.”

“Thank you!” He turns to Murr. “Let’s go.”

The cat looks up at him in exasperation.

“Sorry,” Noé tells him with an apologetic smile, though he can feel the worry building up inside him. “But we need to find Astolfo, before he runs into the Chevalier Ténèbre on his own.”

Knowing Astolfo, he could very well stumble upon him by accident.

“It won’t go well if he faces him alone.”

This seems to decide Murr, who sniffs disdainfully and starts walking.

-------------------------

Without Louisette, or more generally speaking, a spear, and the enhancement drug the chasseurs usually have, Astolfo can’t fight as well as he used too. He’s always been smaller than the average boy, both in terms of height and weight. He made up of for it, back then, by choosing a long-range weapon and relying on speed, dexterity and high mobility. With it, he could make his size an advantage, even though it also allowed his enemies to throw him around with more ease if they grabbed him.

The spear allowed him to hit his target while staying away. Now, all he has is his own natural speed and a short weapon which requires him to get in his enemy’s arm reach.

The dagger rips through the Chevalier’s clothes and nicks at his skin, but the vampire grabs him by the collar, pulling him off his feet, and throws him away. His back hits a wall with a thud and, as he falls, he sees stars, the pain spreading through his body in short waves.

He pushes himself back on his feet and picks his weapon. He grins, the rush of the fight coming back to him, warming him up. His focus is solely on Jean Ténèbre, and the humans running away, the chasseurs he is sure are on their way, Noé Archiviste’s departure — all of this is nothing but background noise. None of it matters .

Jean Ténèbre here stands in front of him and this time, nothing will stop Astolfo from taking his life.

Adjusting his grip on his weapon, he lunges, intentionally leaving his side open. The Chevalier takes the bait and Astolfo dodges, slipping under his arm and aiming his ribs. The vampire stumbles when Astolfo’s blade lodges itself right between two of them and he swings his arm, elbow hitting the side of his head.

Astolfo manages to roll away, once again out of range. He breathes hard already, but he can’t stop smiling, face flushed, his weapon bloodied.

“I failed to end you once,” he tells him, laughter bubbling at the back of his throat. “I will not fail again tonight.”

He remembers that night very clearly — every detail of it etched in his mind forever. The night this vampire and his companions slaughtered his family and laughed.

Just as Astolfo prepares to attack again, something catches on his leg, making him tumble down on his knee. He pulls, hard, but his foot is rooted on ground, something dark swirling around his ankle. He tries to pull it off, but it’s immaterial.

“You don’t learn, do you?” The Chevalier’s eyes seem to glower in the darkness, pupils shifting to strange, eerie spirals.

He cannot touch it and no matter how much he tries; it paralyses his ankle. He stands again, trying to force his leg to move, to wrench it off the ground, but it only spreads, keeping him from bending his knee until he’s immobilized all the way up his waist.

Around the Chevalier, shadows twirl and swell, growing more solid, more textured under his power.

All vampires have the ability to alter the very nature of this world, the formula. Some of them learn how to control this power, and some of them specialize. The Chevalier Ténèbre, staying true to his name, decided on darkness .

It wraps around him, taking a hold of his arm, squeezing his wrist until it cuts the skin and makes him drop his weapon. The dagger clatters uselessly on the ground.

“You come to me, in the middle of the night, when I am at my strongest, and you can barely put up a decent fight.” He sighs, sounding disappointed, standing just in front of him. He pats his cheek with a barely there smile that Astolfo wants to rip off his face with his bare hands. “To think my beloved brother lost to that. ”

The touch would make Astolfo shiver if he could move at all and he grits his teeth. He hasn’t changed at all. He is still, without the chasseurs, a weak and helpless child.

Once again, he realizes, Antonio was right. He keeps overestimating himself, trying to make himself believe that he’s still strong enough to take the Chevalier like he took his brother years ago.

Move , he tells himself as the Chevalier’s shadow creep up. Move , as he tries to push it aside. If he doesn't, Astolfo will be hacked to pieces by disgustingly solid shadows, and he can’t even move . Like six months ago, and like when he was eleven and pinned down by those same shadows as fangs dug into his skin.

The thought is what finally kicks him into action.

Astolfo snaps his head, catching, between his teeth, the fragile skin between the Chevalier’s thumb and index finger, and bites down. His teeth sink in. Blood pours out, staining his lips and chin.

The Chevalier yelps, his focus shifts, and his control snaps. Astolfo pushes him back, throwing his balance off. He dives to the ground to grab his weapon and drives it down into the vampire’s foot, before putting distance between them.

His chest rises and falls with his heartbeat, fast and uneven, and he wipes his face with his sleeve, spitting out the blood on the ground.

Then, snarling, the Chevalier comes for him again, faster, and Astolfo won’t have time to move out of the way — but before anything can happen something grabs him around the waist, pulling him off his feet and out of the way.

“Are you alright?”

And he finds himself carried like a sack of potatoes over Noé Archiviste’s shoulder as he turns several street corners, until they lose sight of the Chevalier.

“What—”

“I learned the Chevalier Ténèbre was here so I came looking for you. But you found him without my help, it seems.”

“I—” Astolfo lets out a strangled sound of surprise, before he truly realizes what position he is in and kicks his feet in the air. “Let me down!”

“Oh, right.” He puts him back on his feet. “There.”

Now back on the ground, Astolfo regains his bearings and huffs. “What took you so long?” he demands as if he hasn’t been scared out of his mind, in a difficult position just a minute ago. “Did you wander off again?”

“What do you mean, again ?” the Archiviste protests. “I even brought something that could be useful.”

He rummages through his pockets and takes out several pouches, which Astolfo easily recognizes. “Are those chasseurs belt pouches?”

“I found them in the guardroom in the headquarters. I figured you could find some use for it, since you don’t have access to those anymore.” He looks back over his shoulder, making sure the Chevalier Ténèbre isn’t catching up yet. “You can’t fight him on your own, Astolfo. At least not without some extra weapons.”

The "you’re a regular human now" hangs between them, unsaid.

“Look—”

“Mademoiselle Isabella showed me what he did to you last time.”

There is something in his tone and in his eyes looking too much like a mixture of fear and worry that make Astolfo want to give up arguing.

It's not like he’s up for an argument anyway. He’s tired, from the last year’s search, from his previous encounters with the Chevalier, from the argument with Antonio, and from the fight, so he just takes the pouches without a word. He doesn’t ask how he even knows Isa, and opens them. They all contain Aegis flash grenades, brand new and polished, warm under his fingers.

All in all, they have four of those.

“This is what you disappeared for?”

“Well, it wasn’t what I was looking for but—” He rubs the back of his head. “Sometimes you take what you have on hands.” He points at the cat still sitting across his shoulders. “Murr helped too.”

“I—” he gulps. “I was under the impression you—”

I thought you left for good .

“You thought what?” the vampire asks, confused.

“Nothing.” He looks away, face pink in embarrassment, recalling his rather childish outburst.

“Are you sure?”

He nods, and focuses back on the equipment Noé brought back. He picks one of the grenades, weighting it in his palm. “This will be useful. The Chevalier Ténèbre can control shadows,” he explains.

“We will be able to counter it with those, then.”

Astolfo blinks, taken aback. He always imagined himself facing the Chevalier alone, fighting alone until who or whatever is in front of him kills him. “We?”

"Yes, we." Noé takes off his coat and hat, which he neatly places on a windowsill, before he sets Murr next to them. His sharp fangs glint in the moonlight as he grins, flexing his fingers, and Astolfo is suddenly reminded that, under his sweet exterior, the vampire is as much as a fighter as any chasseur. “I’m your shield now. You can count on me.”

[rileywrites]

If you’re still doing prompts, this is from your prompt list in the random section — nos. 4 or 14, or from the fluff section, no. 12, in yet another of my reluctantly shipped ships, the Book of Nile. *sigh* (I have fulfilled the requirement of the manifesto) 😆

I wanted to give you options just in case someone already asked for any one of these!

Or, if you want, you could go for my original prompt, which would be: Nile has now learned Italian, Ancient Greek, Modern Greek, perfected her Arabic, etc. When Booker returns to the fold, Nile asks him to teach her French, (which Andy, Joe, and Nicky always said would be his job when he came back) but he basically gives her the “Ask your mother” “Ask your father” treatment, passing the responsibility like a hot potato between the other members of the Guard. After some time has passed, Nile catches him quietly singing songs in his old dialect of French, and oddly, only when the two of them are alone in a room. Since his old dialect has basically died out, she can’t exactly google translate. But she begins to suspect something’s up when Quynh stops dead in her tracks after she walks in on Booker singing something while making breakfast, as Nile sits at the table, enjoying everything, which leads to Quynh disappearing, and quiet laughter coming from the bedrooms. After a confrontation, he admits he didn’t want to teach her French, at least not for a while, because he wanted to have the ability to tell her how he feels about her through singing ancient French love songs, without her knowing, promising himself he’d teach her his language, when or if the day ever came that he could tell her in words.

I’m so sorry it’s a bit long, but this just popped in my head, and I know you’ll do wonders with this, if you decide to do it. No hard feelings at all if you don’t!

Thank you so much, you’re an amazing writer, you capture the voices of the TOG characters so well — I always smile when I see your name pop up with a new BoN story on AO3!

Thank you for this wonderful prompt, darling! I have absolutely run with it. I will write the snippet prompts eventually, but this one grabbed me by the throat.

Read on Ao3 Here.

...

After fifteen years with the Guard, Nile has a pretty good handle on just about any language you could think of.

Nile can give a eulogy in Spanish, ask for directions in Pashto, negotiate a weapons deal in Russian, woo a honeypot target in Italian, con a businessman in Greek, and navigate trade in Arabic. She can read, write, and speak Ancient Greek (circa Nicky and Joe's era) and is passable in several dead languages from the Steppe and Southern Asia. She's decent at Mandarin, getting pretty fucking good at Vietnamese, and doing her damnedest to learn Hindi. (It's  a struggle.)

The one language she hasn't picked up yet is French.

It isn't for lack of trying. Her grasp at French is enough to not get her killed, but most of her practice has been with Quebecois or the dialects spoken in Morocco. Basically, if she spoke French in France, they would laugh at her, and her comprehension isn't great

"When Booker comes back, he'll teach you," Andy promises. "He has the most modern French between the five of us. It will do you better to learn from him."

"That doesn't do me any good in the interim," Nile points out.

"He'll be back any day now," Andy says. "Trust me, he'll crack soon."

...

Nile gets to their most recent safehouse late after a long night of schmoozing. She hates long cons, hates that some of humanity's evil can only be taken down with espionage and not brute force.

Her feet are killing her. These sky high boots make her ass look amazing, but her leg muscles regret every life choice she's ever made.

The TV is on, even though Joe and Nicky are supposed to be on recon. With Andy and Quyhn in Istanbul following a lead (to keep a grouchy Andy off of desk duty for a weekend), Nile's senses are on high alert.

She enters carefully, gun drawn.

"Don't shoot," Booker says, hands up. He smiles slightly. "I would have messaged, but I don't have your latest code."

"I still have the Nokia you gave me," Nile points out. "Andy could have told you that."

"Maybe I wanted to surprise you."

"You definitely have too much of a death wish for someone who can't die."

Booker doesn't have a comeback for that. Nile holsters her gun.

"Hug me, you sneaky bastard. It's been literal years."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He crosses the room in two strides and steps into her waiting arms.

When they collide, it knocks the wind out of Nile's lungs. Breathing is irrelevant anyway, when she's in Booker's arms.

"I missed you, asshole," Nile says into his shoulder, probably getting makeup on his dumb denim shirt.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry that I did not visit sooner." Booker rubs one massive hand over her back. "Your feet probably hurt. I should let you get changed."

"One more minute."

Later, when Nile has had time to change into an oversized t-shirt and Nike shorts, her wig back on its mannequin head, Nile sits down with her feet in Booker's lap and grills him for information.

"I got sober about five years ago." Booker rubs her feet without hesitation, well-trained from centuries with Andy. "I haven't had a drop since."

Nile nudges his chest with the foot he isn't massaging.

"I'm proud of you. It can't have been easy."

"It wasn't." Booker bats her foot away. "It was worth it, though. You deserve a better teammate - you all do. Besides, I don't need to spend the rest of my immortality intoxicated. Six thousand years is a long time to be drunk."

"So what have you been doing since?"

"I spent a lot of time Journaling, processing my emotions. I worked in several literacy programs across the world, staying long enough to help but not too long." Booker shrugs. "Safer that way, I guess."

"Did you bring me pictures?"

"Of course. I have no clue how you keep finding film for Polaroid knockoffs though. It's twenty-thirty-five."

"I have my ways." Nile makes grabby hands in his direction. "Pictures. Please tell me there's pictures of you holding cute children you're teaching to read."

"Of course there is." Booker finds the envelope in his bag, careful not to dislodge her.

The tiny gesture is so fucking heartwarming it hurts.

"I have training in literacy coaching in English and French, so I've worked just about everywhere."

The photos are fucking adorable. Nile flips through them with glee, enjoying the tiny humans and huge Booker sharing textbooks and screens. One little girl in particular pops up in several.

"That's Adelaide," Booker says when Nile holds one up. "I stayed in Port Au Prince for almost a solid year, because I couldn't bear being another to abandon them. When she was adopted by a family in the church, I decided it was time for me to come home myself."

"That reminds me. You're back, which means I finally get to learn proper French."

Booker hesitates.

"Come on, Book, I know you have the qualifications." Nile retrieves her feet so she can kneel by his side on the couch. "You promised. Andy promised. No one else will teach me."

"Nicky hates French," Booker points out.

"I know, and everyone else is too stubborn. They all want you to teach me." Nile fidgets with his rolled-up sleeve. "I want you to teach me."

One good bat of her eyelashes later, and Booker finally agrees.

"Fine, fine, I will teach you French."

"Yes!"

"Eventually. For now, you need rest. Andy will insist on a stupidly early call tomorrow."

...

Six months later, and Booker hasn't said three words to Nile in French. He uses it on jobs, with Joe and Andy, when he talks to himself, but not with her.

They end up in Calais for three days, longer than expected, and Nile bugs him to go out with her.

"Come on, you can teach me in the field. I can practice." Nile pokes him in the arm. "You can laugh at my shitty attempts to use your language, and then you can correct me. Fun and educational!"

"I have too much to do, Nile. I have to make sure this program runs properly, or else we can't get on that plane." Booker waves her off. "Go read something. We have more books than sense here."

"That's not hard, when you're dumb." It's petty, infantile, but it gets Booker to smile and that's enough. "Fine. Don't think it's the end of this, though. You promised to teach me."

"I know, ma cherie, and I will. But for now, entertain yourself."

Nile grumbles. "I am forty-one years old. Don't act like I'm a child."

"I know you aren't a child. However, you are being a brat, so shoo."

"Asshole."

Nile pokes through the books in Booker's latest pile and fishes out something newer and trashy. Brainless. It'll do.

(And if she gets him to throw couch pillows at her by doing dramatic readings of the worst bits, all the better.)

...

Booker has been back in the fold for almost a year.

"Booker, you promised."

A year, and Nile is still just as shit with French - except for the curse words. She knows a whole stable of curse words now.

"Ask Andy."

Nile huffs. "I've been asking Andy for almost sixteen years, Booker. She says you'd be the best one to teach me."

"I don't know about that," Booker says, frowning.

"You're the French one."

"They've spoken French since it was invented."

Nile sighs. "Forget it. I'm going for a run."

She slides her ancient Nokia into her armband and pulls on her sneakers. A run will clear her head.

He doesn't say anything when she leaves. Nile tries not to take it personally.

They're in Istanbul, following up on the lead Andy and Quyhn have been chasing down. They're going to the Hippodrome in the morning, but for now, Nile has the evening to herself.

Why does this whole French thing piss her off so much?

(Nile isn't an idiot. She knows why.)

Maybe she'd be less irritated if he hadn't started singing recently.

It's nothing too obvious, just little snippets of old-sounding songs in a version of French that is either impossible for her to spell, too old for Google Translate, or both.

Nile turns a corner, mentally marking her distance as her feet hit the pavement.

Maybe she wouldn't care as much if Booker sang when the others were around, but he doesn't. It's just when it's the two of them.

Booker is asleep in the armchair by the time Nile gets back. She pokes and prods at him until he's awake enough to shuffle back to the bedroom.

"We've got a long day tomorrow." Nile shakes him gently. "Don't fall asleep in your boots."

"M'good," Booker says, then mumbles something incomprehensible in French.

"Goodnight, Booker."

"Bonne nuit, ma cherie," Booker says.

Nile can figure that much out.

...

The next morning, Nile wakes to singing and the smell of breakfast. She pulls on a hoodie and shuffles out of her room, scarf still on because fuck it.

"G'morning," she says, muffled by a yawn. "Coffee?"

Booker pours her a cup as she sits at the table. Before she's done with the coffee, an omelet appears before her.

"You are the fucking best." Nile digs in, content to enjoy the moment.

Good food, good company, and surprisingly good singing.

Nile is halfway through her omelet, Booker still be-bopping around the kitchen singing, when Quyhn and Andy get in from their morning run.

Both freeze in the doorway before Booker can notice, but Nile watches their minds race.

"Good morning," Nile says.

Quyhn whispers something in Andy's ear, and they walk quickly back to their bedroom.

Booker seems to realize they're there about the moment quiet giggling comes down the halls.

Nile didn't realize Andy could do anything other than chuckle gruffly these days.

Booker blushes bright red and his eyes go wide.

"Booker, your breakfast," Nile points out before it can burn.

"Fuck." Booker rescues his omelet. "I should go talk to them."

Nile stands, hemming him into the kitchen.

"Why are they giggling, Book?"

Booker refuses to make eye contact, but Nile doesn't back down.

She's been a mercenary for a decade and a half. She's faced down gangsters and serial killers and oligarchs. She can handle pinning Booker down with a glare.

"They, ah..." Booker rubs the back of his neck. "They speak French?"

"I know they speak French. Why were they giggling?"

Booker finally makes eye contact.

"They're love songs, Nile. I've been... I've been singing sappy shit from my youth, because I knew you wouldn't understand."

"That's why you wouldn't teach me."

It isn't a question, but Booker nods anyway.

"I was scared," he finally admits. "Scared for you to know."

Nile wants to say something meaningful. Wants to sweep him off his feet, wants to kiss him stupid, wants everything in the world.

Instead, she steps back.

"We have a job to do. Tonight, if you want to, if you're ready, I want you to translate your songs for me. Then we can talk, yeah?"

"I-" Booker nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that works for me."

She turns on her heel to go get ready for the day, leaving Booker in the kitchen staring after her, baffled.

...

Later, blood and mud spattered and healing from a sizeable fall from a horse, Nile limps into her bedroom. She manages to get most of her layers off and into a basket to see if they can be salvaged, but her ribs are still healing so bending too much is out of the question.

Getting her bra off is an Olympic event.

Booker doesn't knock until after she's showered.

"Come in."

"I brought you... well, the translations." Booker holds out a new-feeling leather journal. "I wrote down all the ones I could think of. You can read them, and I'll just-"

"Sit," Nile says before he can escape. "Please, stay."

Nile reads, connecting words to tunes he's been singing for weeks.

They're sappy, fond, romantic, saucy. Nile enjoys peeking up at Booker to see him blush almost as much as the love confession she's holding in her hands.

When she reaches the end of the lyrics, Nile crosses the tiny bedroom and looks Booker in the eyes.

"Booker?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to teach me French?"

Booker nods, blushing. "If you would like, ma cherie."

Nile finally kisses him. "I would like that very much."

[chasseurdeloup-retired]

They See Us Trolling, They Hating || Rio and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: The woods PARTIES: @3starsquinn  and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Rio and Kaden meet a family of trolls in the woods. CONTENT WARNINGS: Minor mention of abuse, mental and physical.  

In other towns, hunting was exhilarating, an adrenaline rush. Kaden remembered it fondly. But not here in Wicked’s Rest. No, in White Crest, hunting felt more like a burden than it ever had before. Maybe it was the sheer number of monsters everywhere, maybe it was all the extra bonus weird shit happening everywhere else all the time. Or maybe it was just him. Maybe he’d changed enough that he was as broken as his mother implied he was. Still, it didn’t change what he was. So out in the woods he was, guns and knives on him and a crossbow strapped to his back. His brows at the rustling in the distance. Definite sounds of movement. He crouched down and hid behind a tree, keeping as quiet as he could. His hands coiled around the barrel of the gun and slowly pulled it from the holster, careful to make no noise as he loaded it. There was nothing but darkness and the sounds of footsteps growing louder as he waited, gun raised, aimed, and ready. With a deep inhale, he peaked around the tree to see… flannel kid. “You should try walking a little quieter,” he said, lowering the weapon. “Or come armed. I have a feeling you’ll go for the former.”

If it weren’t for the Scribe building, Orion would never go into the forest again. He hated this place. As if the creepy noises and constant threat of danger weren’t enough, the woods had always frightened him in other ways. They were both open and cramped. Quiet, yet extremely loud. Despite how lonely the place was, he never felt safe with his own thoughts. Perhaps that was the irrational fear talking. He tried to stay alert in the woods, but sometimes his hearing was so deafening that the only way to block it out was with headphones. Today, he had a pair in, playing music just loud enough to block out some of the usual noises. He never really knew when his hearing would cooperate or not. Some days it was perfect, he could cancel out noises he didn’t want in order to focus on certain sounds or people. Other times, everything poured in at once, needles jabbing at his ear drums and making him dizzy. He could only guess that his level of control may be tied to stress or anxiety. Both things that Rio had a surplus of. Of course, the downside to using music to drown at the noise was that he didn’t hear when someone- an armed someone was a yard away from him, popping out from behind a tree and scaring Rio to death. Rio jumped what felt like a mile high, letting out a scream and ripping the earbuds out by their cord. “Holy- Why?” Rio yelled at him through gasped breaths, “Maybe you should try being a little less quiet. So you don’t give people heart attacks!” Of course it was Kaden. Of all the people he could run into from town. His feelings on Kaden were…. Complicated. The two had gone from yelling at each other about the supernatural to casually discussing the humanity of the job. By the end of the conversation, Rio wasn’t exactly sure if Kaden hated him or liked him. Rio wasn’t really sure where he landed on the topic either. The uncertainty only worked to make Rio more uncomfortable by the sudden meeting. “I don’t do weapons.” Rio explained, “The last thing I need is to accidentally stab or shoot myself in the woods. I’d be a lost cause.” He already was, honestly.

“I was hunting. The whole fucking point is to be quiet.” Kaden didn’t intend to roll his eyes. Sure fucking happened anyway. “Putain, were you wearing headphones, too? In the woods?” Was he sure he had hunter training? No weapons? Not listening to anything around him? “You may have a point but even Regan carries mace with her. Do you have a death wish or something?” It was hard to reconcile having the powers that they shared and ignoring them, if he was being perfectly honest. At least Rio was useful with all the book learning and research. It was something he could barely tolerate. Only when it was a subject he was sincerely interested in. And hunting through ancient texts for possible mentions of a thing that may or may not be the thing you’re looking for wasn’t the kind of shit that held his interest. “Where are you headed anyway? I know you seem to be doing everything in your power to get yourself killed out here but I’d rather you didn’t.” Who he was hardly mattered. Rio was human and that was more than enough reason for Kaden to make sure the kid lasted the night.

Orion was going to assume that Kaden did not actually want Rio to answer that question about the death wish, “My hunter hearing isn’t… great. I use things to drown out the noise if needed.” Rio admitted. Kaden might be the worst of the hunters that he could have run into tonight. Clearly the two couldn’t agree on… practically anything. As far as Kaden was concerned, Rio’s lack of a handle on his hearing was probably just further proof that he was just one big giant failure. Rio had enough hunters in his life reminding him of that. He didn’t need Kaden adding to the chatter. And in French no less. “And language” Rio mumbled under his breath. Not that mumbling mattered, since Kaden probably had mastered his hunter hearing. He crossed his arms, suddenly nervous that he was out here in the woods with Kaden. He wasn’t afraid that Kaden would hurt him. Kaden seemed way too dedicated to the whole protecting humans thing that hunters used to justify the violence. He was more nervous about whatever Kaden was out here hunting. “Um- Scribe building.” Rio pointed back towards the direction of the building, “I was just grabbing a few things. And now I was heading home. What…” Rio was afraid to ask, “What are you out here looking for?”

Kaden shook his head at the reluctant hunter. “I know you have zero interest in your abilities but you didn’t even get a grip on your hearing? How the fuck have you not gone insane?” He could understand this from someone who didn’t grow up with hunter parents, didn’t know what they were. But he did. Fucking baffling is what it was. He rolled his eyes at the language comment but dropped it. Wasn’t worth it. Though it did make him want to curse even more, had to admit. Of course the kid had come from the library. He should have expected. What was Kaen hunting, though? “I don’t know. Anything,” he said with a shrug. “Didn’t find much yet surprisingly. Missed a shot at a chickcharney earlier but that was about it.” It was strange that he forgot how much this kid was probably going to squirm at the thought of him hurting a single hair on a supernatural creature’s head. “You know, I feel like I should offer to make sure you get home alright. I know how much you love the thought of violence but I know how much I don’t love the thought of you dead for no fucking reason.” Before they could move a foot, there was a low rumble in the distance. Vibrations rippled through the ground. Kaden concentrated and tried to pinpoint the direction of the sound and turned to his left, putting himself between Rio and the potential threat. He reached for the gun again and brought it up, aimed and ready to fire at whatever monster was headed their way.

“I think the jury is still out on whether or not I’ve gone insane.” Orion sighed. He was sure that his parents, and especially his sister thought that Rio was crazy in some capacity. Seeing the incredulous looks that Kaden gave him implied that he probably thought so too. Rio probably was, in some ways. “I wouldn’t exactly call my family’s training conventional. And I wouldn’t call myself a star student or anything.” Maybe Rio should have focused on their teachings a little longer, tried to master the basics before tuning out all of their outdated, cruel teachings. But clearly it was too late now, and he was stuck trying to figure it out on his own. “You really don’t have to do that,” Kaden offered to get Rio home. It was a nice offer, but Rio wasn’t sure why Kaden would offer. Sure, hunter duties and all. But neither of them wanted to be stuck awkwardly talking about how different their lives were. Rio had escaped hearing about his hunter duties once already, no need to go back. But then the ground started shaking. And Kaden reverted back to hunter mode in an instant, gun up and ready to shoot while Rio’s heart exploded in his chest. If the earth weren’t already shaking, he would be. It wasn’t until the ground began rising and taking a form that Rio realized what they were dealing with. Without thinking it through, or maybe because he truly did have a deathwish, Rio forced his body to move, moving in front of Kaden and using his body to block Kaden’s gun pointing towards the creature. “Don’t shoot them!” Rio held his own arms up in surrender. He was confident that Kaden wasn’t going to shoot him. That was why he had jumped in front of Kaden’s gun, right? “It’s a troll. They’re… not dangerous.” Rio stole a glance over his shoulder at the creature. He had read about them a lot. They had drastic size ranges, from tiny to bus sized. This one must be fairly younger, being no larger than a human child. Still, that tiny creature could lift a bus, and they weren’t exactly unknown to target humans. It just wasn’t super common. “Well, I mean they could be dangerous. But we should be fine. If we leave. Because they usually travel together.” As if on cue, that familiar vibration started echoing around the forest again. The creatures, more trolls it looked like, crept from behind a hill, following along a trail of tries that slowly led up to the one that had now noticed Rio and Kaden standing there. Rio was pretty sure those were his friends. And they looked a lot bigger than before.

Before Kaden could make a single move. Rio was practically throwing himself in front of the gun. “Alright we really have to talk about this fucking deathwish of yours,” he snipped. Putain, he nearly missed what was up ahead. It looked like a clump of moving rocks. A lot of moving rocks. “Get out of the way,” he hissed, not lowering the gun just yet. Still, his finger was fully off the trigger; he really didn’t want to accidentally shoot the kid. He hoped the visual threat would be enough. And yet there was no movement on his part. He caught a better look at the monsters with his peripheral vision, his focus stayed on Rio, hoping he’d get the fucking hint and move. They were trolls back there alright. “I know what a troll is. And you want to tell the hunters they’ve crushed to death with rocks how dangerous they aren't?” Honestly, Kaden wasn't sure anymore how many of the stories he'd’ been told among colleagues at hunter bars were true. Looking at them, though? He’d fucking believe it. Just as he was about to yank Rio by his shoulder and force him out of harm’s way, another fucking monster showed up. And then another. And another. Merde. “Move and let me fucking take care of them. Unless you have a better fucking plan. And if so you better start talking. Quick.”

As more and more began to show up, Orion was willing to admit that he was beginning to get a bit more nervous. Not out loud to Kaden of course. The last thing Rio needed was Kaden with those ‘I told you so eyes’ or worse, actually telling him that he told him so. But internally, Rio was able to begin freaking out. But he tried his best to stay calm, even if the shaking hands and quivering voice may or may not work to give it away. “Yeah well- uh trolls are not typically violent. From what I’ve read. So maybe those hunters were attacking them or something. We don’t know.” The sinking feeling in his stomach made it harder to argue. As it was, arguing over his opinions on the supernatural was a lot easier to do online from the safety of his bedroom. Staying calm and level headed seemed a bit more challenging now. “I- uh yes. I do have a plan actually. Just put your gun down. Or point it somewhere else.” Rio swallowed hard. His legs felt like gelatin as he tried to force himself forward. He wobbled, a straight path across the greenery impossible in his current state. But he tried moving with purpose, and his arms raised slightly in the air as if surrendering. “Hey there!” Rio called out to the group, shrinking himself as he stepped closer and closer to the group. “We are not here to hurt you. We were just passing through. We can both head on. Peacefully.” Rio said as loudly as his voice could manage at the moment, hoping his words got to all of the trolls scattered around the duo.

It was hard to tell exactly how the trolls were feeling at the moment. They stared at the hunter as if studying them, but their features were rigid, literally and figuratively. They weren’t easy to read. Finally, the one closest to Rio spoke, “Hun-ter” The voice was deep, methodically spoken and drawn out. It sent a shiver down Rio’s spine. “No!” Rio immediately called out, looking back at Kaden, the freaking gun in his hand a dead giveaway, “No. Just passerbys. No hunting here. I don’t have any weapons. I don’t even like fishing. Too violent.” He laughed nervously, wondering if the trolls understood humor the way that other Fae might. Jury was still out on if Trolls were even considered Fae or not. “I- we are not here to harm you. I just want to go home.”

Not a single fucking moment of this sounded like a good idea. Kaden was pretty sure this was how they got crushed with rocks. But some stupid part of him wanted to trust that the kid was right. If he was right here, maybe he could be-- Not the time, not the place. He remembered Theo’s words, and the words from his training. Uncertainty is death, decision is survival. He put his gun down by his side and was willing to give this shit a chance. Plus, he had a feeling if his weapon was drawn and this went south, the kid would get attacked first. Better to be a little cautious for his sake. It wasn’t like Kaden wasn’t a quick fucking draw either way. The conversation seemed okay at first. Maybe. But the reply of hunter didn’t exactly bode well for them. “Kid. Might be time to back away,” he whispered mostly through his teeth. He had a bad feeling about this. Of course Rio took this as a fucking opportunity to chit chat with the trolls. Bleeding fucking hearts. It was clear they were too dumb for so many words so fast. “Vio-lent? Squishy humans are violent?” it growled. Putain. That sounded bad. Almost like they missed the many other words the kid threw at them. “You try harm troll? You hurt?” Yup. Dumb fucking rocks were not listening to any words other than the not so great ones. Kaden made sure the safety was off and he was ready to shoot at any moment, slowly inching towards Rio to hopefully pull him away the second this went wrong. “Maybe we should just turn around.” Fuck, there were too many of them to fight if this got ugly.

“Tiny hunter no hurt troll!” it yelled out and before Kaden could leap into action, the nearest troll grabbed Rio and threw him like he was nothing more than a rag doll. Fucking hell. Kaden raised his gun and unleashed a few rounds at the trolls but it was doing shit all. Because fucking relicts were the worst. He ran over to see if the kid was okay. Fuck, they were fucked. One of the rocked fists reached out and grabbed his ankle. Kaden kicked out with his free leg, hearing the crunching of his shoes against the rock, not sure that it did much. Especially with its friends descending.

For how slow the trolls seemed to lug around the forest, they sure could throw people quickly. Before Orion could react, the troll in front of him had latched onto his clothes. He didn’t have much time to try to pull himself free before the troll had flicked him through the air as if he was no lighter than a tic tac. It all came to a screeching halt when Rio collided with the tree. All the air rushed out of his body and was replaced with searing pain. His nerves went haywire, and he was pretty sure he heard something cracking. The pain only got worse once he completed the fall and smacked hard against the ground, his back breaking the fall. Everything hurt. He tried pushing himself off the ground and his chest did not want to cooperate. Every breath felt like something sharp was piercing his lungs. Ribs. Something may actually be piercing his lungs. He was able to push himself up enough to drag his legs under his body and push up to his knees. Where was Kaden? He spotted him, heading towards Rio. Rio sighed in relief, flinching from the pain it caused in his chest. Kaden was coming to help. The two could get away. But then Kaden fell. No, Kaden was grabbed. Rocks were pulling at Kaden’s ankle, knocking him to the ground and starting to drag him.

Rio forced himself to move forward. He had trained with broken ribs before. This should be nothing by now. Whether or not Rio regretted what he tried to do didn’t matter. He was the reason Kaden was in trouble now. Rio searched desperately for something that he could use to help Kaden get free. Maybe there was still time for the two to escape. Rio ducked down and picked up a large rock from beside a tree. Fight fire with fire or something like that, Rio supposed. He stumbled his way through the forest until he could finally get to the troll that was holding onto Kaden’s leg. Rio fell back into his knees and smashed the rock against the troll’s arm, hoping to hurt it enough to let go of Kaden’s leg. “Let. Him. Go!” Rio yelled, one word for each swing. His voice was hoarse, it came out as barely more than a whisper. But it wasn’t working.  The body was too hard. And Rio was panicking. Until he remembered the stomach area. The idea of hurting the troll still made Rio sick to his stomach, even now. But the pain from hitting the true drowned out the nausea. Turning the rock so that there were no jagged edges, Rio swung the rock one last time at the stomach, jabbing the troll in the stomach and sending him tumbling backwards. Rio allowed himself a moment of triumph that Kaden had been freed before a troll grabbed Rio from behind and began dragging him backwards.

Shit, Rio looked like he was in pretty bad shape. It was lucky he had hunter genes or else Kaden was pretty fucking sure he’d be a lot worse for wear. Or at the very least, less prepared to deal with the pain. If they had to run, though, they were clearly fucked. “Get out I’ve got th—“ he started to shout, but there was the kid, coming to help anyway. Putain, he was hoping he’d have one less factor to worry about.

Kaden kicked and trashed his feet to try and break free, but it wasn’t doing any good. Rio’s swinging didn’t make much difference either. Until he gut punched the troll with a rock. Alright then. Kaden pulled his foot free and scrambled back. Only Rio didn’t exactly think to do the same. Fuck. Kaden stood and tried to take aim again. No clear opening. If he shot, there was no way to be sure he wouldn’t hit the kid. “Let him go!” he shouted at the troll. “Tiny hunter hurt Borg. Both hurt tiny hunter.” Kaden had no advantage here that he could see. Other than… He took a shot at one of the other trolls genius Borg, aimed for the squishier looking stomach. It growled in pain. “Let the tiny hunter go and we walk away or big hunter will keep shooting.” Another one of the trolls lunged out at Kaden, this time he kneed it in his guts before reaching back for his knife, pushing it right up against the beast’s belly as he reached around to try and headlock the thing. One slice and the troll would be toast. “What do you say, Borg? Yours for mine?” He kept the knife digging, small pinpricks of troll blood spilling out. This better fucking work. He was running out of plans.

Orion couldn’t break free. The troll had hold of the back of Rio’s sweater, dragging him through the woods. His body caught on rocks and branches, stabbing into his back and legs as his own sweater choked him. The troll’s rocky hands dig into his back as he was pulled backwards. Eventually, the grip on Rio’s sweater was loosened, but before Rio could scramble away a fist came down on him. It smacked against his face, crushing his head against the ground and ricocheting off of the hardened dirt. His head felt like someone just hit him with a rock, which he supposed was the case. Hot liquid dropped down his cheek and he could taste the metallic sting of blood as it dropped between his lips. He coughed it free immediately, a mixture of spit and blood pooling beneath him. The punch had split his cheek open, Rio could tell that much without even seeing it.

The troll grabbed onto Rio’s wrist next, squeezing it tightly and twisting it upwards, forcing Rio to follow its direction. He sat there, right arm raised in the troll’s grasp and facing towards Kaden. Rio was shaking, minutes away from full on tears, but he begged himself to stop the tears from coming. Not now. Not in front of Kaden. Kaden bartered for him, threatening another troll for the release of Rio. “Please let me go. Please” Rio begged. His voice was whiny and came out scratchy. He was so freaking pathetic and useless. He had gotten Kaden into this situation. If he had only come up with a better idea. Something not as stupid as begging for safety. As if any troll would have believed that coming from a hunter anyways. Rio used his free arm to feel around the ground, looking for anything he might be able to use to break himself free. “Big hunter lie.” The troll yelled to Kaden. Rio’s hand finally caught on something, a piece of a branch maybe? It was jagged and jabbed into Rio’s hand as grabbed onto it. Rio hissed in pain, pulling his hand back before going back for it more gently this time. His fingers just barely reached it. He stretched his hand as far as it could go and used the tips of his fingers to slowly start pulling the branch closer to him.

Some of the other trolls joined in on the yelling.  Rio’s head was swimming, but he could tell that they weren’t positive. They didn’t want them to get away. “Kill tiny hunter” the troll spoke. His grip tightened on Rio’s wrist and he cringed in fear. This was it. Rio was going to die. Killed by the trolls in some horrible misunderstanding. His hand tightened against the wood. What did he intend to do with this? Hurt the troll? Kill it? Was Rio even capable of that? Or was he better to just let himself get killed? “Kill big hunter next” the troll stated, matter-of-fact. If they killed Rio, would Kaden leave or try to kill them all? Would Rio get him killed too? The troll’s hand switched again, wrapping around Rio’s neck and squeezing. He couldn’t breath. Now or never. Now or never. Rio pulled the branch up and swung it behind him as powerfully as he could. He knew he hit his target. When the grip on his neck didn’t lighten, Rio twisted his arm, snapping the branch off and using the shortened piece to stab again. And then one more time. Finally, Rio could breathe again and he tore the arm off of him, refusing to look back as he threw his body forward and started to run back towards Kaden.

The more Rio was injured, the more Kaden could feel his blood boil. He had no idea if the kid saw it that way or not, but Kaden knew point blank they were dealing with monsters. He’d fucking kill every single one of them without hesitation if he could do so without jeopardizing Rio’s safety even more. “I’m n-- I’m telling the truth!” Kaden almost said he wasn’t lying but it seemed the trolls weren’t good with negatives, only the main words being said. “Let him go!” he yelled again. “We’ll fucking leave just let--” The troll didn’t fucking stop, just kept dragging the kid and Kaden could barely concentrate beyond the pounding of his pulse in his ear. He had to stop this but he couldn’t get a shot in, there was still no safe opening. Every time he thought there was, another twist and turn.

“No!” he shouted at the troll’s yelling and ran up to the monster as soon as he saw the rock hands clasp around Rio’s neck. As soon as he tried to get close, another troll cut him off. It reached to grab his arm and Kaden twisted away, shooting at it, not hitting a whole hell of a lot that was significant. The monster got his leg again instead, but this time Kaden knew what to do. He unleashed the rounds into the stomach and the troll growled and wailed, collapsing in a rock heap. Kaden wriggled and struggled to get his leg out from under the previously living boulder. Shit, shit shit, was he dead? Was Rio dead? There’s no way he-- He couldn’t hear past his own panic and breathing as he scrambled to get up, get his gun aimed again. Just in time to see the monster fall forward. Putain. He did it. He was a hunter. For a whole two seconds. Fuck.

Kaden didn’t waste a moment and rushed over to the “tiny hunter’s” side, dragging him away from the other trolls as soon as he could. Some of them had shambled away at the sound of gunshots earlier and the sight of their fallen companions. “Hunters bad! Hunters kill Borg and Trag!” the others bellowed as they turned away. “Yeah we fucking did! And we’ll kill the rest of you two if you don’t let us leave. So back off!” Kaden’s voice was pure venom and anger. It was enough. Whatever it was, it was enough to make them turn back and let the humans shuffle away. “We come back. We kill hunters if see again! We kill you!” the last one grumbled though rock.

Everything felt distant. Orion felt himself being pulled again, just barely registering that it was Kaden this time. And he was yelling… something? But Rio couldn’t focus long enough to understand the words. There was a loud humming noise in the back of his head that drowned out everything else. All Rio could do was stare at one single spot on the ground. His feet began moving on their own, following Kaden who seemed to be leading him through the forest. Or were they still in the same clearing they had been during the attack? Rio couldn’t tell anymore. He could barely feel the pain in his chest or wrist or head. All he could think about was all the blood on his hand. He could hear it dripping onto the ground. Some of the blood was his, probably. But most of it… He had killed that troll. Rio was a murderer. Just like his parents.

When Rio finally broke out of the trance he had been in, it was to finally start sobbing. His legs gave out on him and he found himself on his knees on the ground, a blubbering mess as he tried and failed to choke back the hysterical sobbing. He knew he couldn’t stop it. He didn’t know why he even tried. Probably because he was embarrassed that Kaden was here to see it. “I’m sorry!” Rio coughed through the tears. The pain came back, and every single breath reminded him of the pain some broken ribs could bring. “I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t sure who he was talking to at the moment. Kaden? Or the troll he had just killed? A mix of both, most likely. “This is all my fault. We could have avoided that if-” He cut himself off. Kaden didn’t need a reminder of how badly Rio had screwed up. And now Kaden was hurt. And trolls were dead. Rio noticed Kaden’s limp, but was too afraid to ask him how badly he was injured. Rio couldn’t take that guilt. He felt sick to his stomach, bile rose in his throat but Rio forced it back down. He grabbed onto his chest and tried desperately to quell some of the stinging pain, but all he could do was cry and cry. “I did this. I killed them.” His voice was nothing more than a whispered cry at this point. How did hunters do this? Rio felt like his entire life was coming to an end.

Once Kaden could help pick Rio up off the floor, they started hobbling away. Kaden did what he could to help, but he seemed okay enough to walk and it also looked like he needed a moment. Shaken probably didn’t begin to cover it. They were making their way back towards town, very slowly, the long way around to boot, but they would get there eventually. Kaden heard a collapse into the ground and whipped around to check on Rio, make sure he hadn’t passed out or hurt himself to the point he couldn’t carry on. From what he could see, it wasn’t the physical pain that brought him to his knees.

Every instinct from his training told him to be harsh. To tell him to suck it up, stand up, and keep moving. That was how you survived. Shit was hard but you killed the monsters and moved on, saved your pain and your tears for your pillow if you let them plague you at all. That’s what his training said he should do. But looking at Rio there on the ground, clearly broken hearted and in pain over whatever the fuck had just happened back there, the words caught in his throat. He couldn’t say them. But he sure as shit didn’t know what else to say. It didn’t make sense to him to cry over a few dead trolls. They were monsters. Maybe the next passers by in the woods would be a little safer. Something dropped in his stomach at the thought. Some small piece of him knew that wasn’t exactly true. Those trolls were angrier now and likely more of a threat to humans now then they had been a few minutes ago. He really should have found a way to kill them all.

Kaden stood and watched a few moments, let him figure it out or whatever, then out out his hand to help him up. No part of him could remember what he really felt after his first kill. It was so long ago now, he was only ten. He remembered the fear, though. The fear of dying and the panic when that fight or flight moment kicked into overdrive. The moment no amount of training could possibly prepare you for, no matter what anyone said. His parents had been proud. Even when offering their critique for next time. And what should have been a beginning felt like an end in a way. An end of choice. Or something like that.

He couldn’t say for sure what Rio was feeling right now exactly, but he figured there was some overlap or two. And no part of him could bring himself to tell the kid how to feel. “Was this your first time? Killing anything? In the field?” It was hard to imagine a hunter with parents like his refusing for this long. If that was true, he had to be used to immense pain. Kaden wasn’t sure where that pain would be coming from exactly, but he knew it was there at the end of a refusal to hunters like that. He just knew.

Orion expected to be belittled. To be yelled at or made fun of or something. Anything to bring back some sense of familiarity. But this was all new territory. Something was dead by Rio’s own hands. In just a few seconds, that troll had taken its last breath. Rio had stolen that from the creature. But Kaden let him have this moment. Rio wasn’t forced to listen someone berating him or telling him everything he had been wrong. Or even worse than that, risk his parents actually being proud of him for something. If they ever knew about this, what would they think? Rio would rather risk their insults anyday. Nothing could be worse than feeling for a second that he was like them. “It- I killed a stupid mime once, but-” That hadn’t been real. It had exploded into smoke afterwards, and then again with Winston’s. It wasn’t anymore more than some illusion or clone. “Not like this. Those things disappeared after they died. They weren’t alive. This-” He had stopped from crying, finally. And he accepted Kaden’s hand when it was offered to him. His entire body ached. All he wanted was to go to sleep. Could he even sleep, after what he had done? “You saved me. I got us into that but you still saved me.” He had no idea where he was going with that. He didn’t have it in him to thank Kaden, the murder was still too fresh. So he simply stated it as fact. “Can you- take me home? I don’t think I can drive right now.”

Kaden sincerely couldn’t imagine growing up in a hunter household and never killing one single thing. He was fairly certain he’d have been disowned by his own parents a hell of a lot sooner if that had been the case. “Right. The fucking mimes. Well, I had to kill mine twice. Or well, it was killed twice. I fucked up and let someone else get the killing blow the first time. Guess you really are smarter than I am.” Once Rio was up and standing, he waited a second until they walked again. So taking away life was his hang up? It was hard to argue with that. More and more, Kaden was starting to feel a bit more like a harbinger of death than his banshee girlfriend. The only thing people ever asked him for help with seemed to be killing shit. Alright, maybe that was unfair, but it was most people’s first thoughts all the same. “What, did you think I was going to leave you there?” He gave a small shrug, wanting to brush it off. Thanks and gratitude in any form weren’t something he was ever good at fielding. He was just doing what he was supposed to the best that he could. And he hadn’t done a stellar job of it today, as far as he was concerned. If the kid didn’t have hunter healing, he would have insisted that they go to the hospital. But as it stood, he knew Rio was familiar enough with pain management if not the rest of the hunter benefits package. “Yeah, I can do that. As long as you promise to be more careful next time you’re out here by yourself, got it?”

[silversabl-inova]

( same information beneath the read more if you’d rather click through. ) BIOGRAPHY | BASICS | WANTED ARCS

i can bear any   p a i n   as long as it has meaning.

IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME/ALIAS: Silvija “Silver” Sablinova

FACECLAIM: Katherina McNamara

AFFILIATIONS: The Wild Pack, ISA 

AGE (physical age as well, if different): Twenty three (23)

SPECIES (human, metahuman, alien, etc): Human

IS YOUR CHARACTER’S IDENTITY SECRET OR PUBLIC?

... Is ‘both’ an okay answer? I’m sure she thinks her identity is secret, but her name is Silver Sablinova, it’s not like... a leap to guess she’s the Silver Sable.  I guess it’s probably secret to the rest of the world because I don’t think she’s “famous” yet, but in her home country and the criminal underworld of eastern Europe, she’s probably pretty well known for her more infamous capabilities.

IF SECRET, OR YOUR CHARACTER IS A CIVILIAN, DO THEY HAVE A CIVILIAN OCCUPATION?

She prefers the term “secular recovery operative” but she’d be most appropriately dubbed a nationalistic bounty hunter.

IF YOUR CHARACTER LIVES IN THE FORTRESS, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES?

N/A.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

[ + ]: PROUD - The third generation of Symkarian nationalists, Silver’s childhood was quickly marred by an airstrike that stole her mother’s life and destabilized her entire country, causing a civil war. Ever since, all Silver’s life has felt like a battle: for freedom, for justice, for family, and for peace. She knows her family history like the back of her hand, and because of this, she knows that fateful day was the result of her own family lineage doing everything it can to protect Symkaria & its people - but in the end, they had done anything but. The last surviving member of the Sablinova line, it’s Silver’s duty to restore balance to Symkaria, and she holds this duty deep in her heart, fueling the fire inside her. Everything in her life can be boiled down to ending the war in Symkaria - nothing else matters to her, and Silver’s duty to her country & compassion for her people are, arguably, her best qualities. [ + ]: RESOURCEFUL - There’s nothing in a room that Silver can’t make into a weapon at a moment’s notice. She’s not above fighting dirty to achieve the upperhand, and if her arsenal of gadgets won’t do the trick, than whatever’s closest to her will have to do. Locked in an empty room? No matter - she’s trained her entire life for the inevitable day when that situation arises, and when it does, her foe will be shocked to learn that she is the deadliest weapon of all. [ + ]: UNWAVERING - Devotion is one thing, but Silver is unwavering in her support. Once past her icy exterior, Silver tends to show her devotion with actions rather than words. She’s the first to interject herself into a dangerous situation to protect those she cares about; that circle is too small to allow any harm in its way, and Sable would break any law or commit any crime to safeguard those closest to her. It’s why her heart has such exclusive access - that kind of loyalty is, quite literally, worth dying for.

[ - ]: COLD - There’s a certain sharpness Silver tends to adopt when dealing with... people. Whether it be her version of professionalism, or just a product of her childhood, Silver’s apathetic approach to most interactions may give the impression of aloofness or distance. Bridging that gap is difficult for her, and for what she can’t give people emotionally, she tries to supplement with non-verbal acts of compassion. Not everyone has the ability to see through her stony exterior, or bone dry humor, and she often comes across as unhospitable or unconcerned, even if she’s anything but. [ - ]: DETACHED - Sometimes, you have to be selfish to be selfless. Silver has to remind herself of this fact constantly to keep herself in check; it’s easy to be swept up in the warmth of compassion for all, but a good leader knows when to draw the hard line between what’s good for everyone, and what’s good for your people. Silver has to draw that hard line far more than she’d like to - her one track mind is on brand for the Wild Pack’s affairs, but on a larger scale, this self-centeredness can spell disaster when they’re not careful. She just continues to tell herself that if Symkaria will ever be restored to its former glory, she needs to become as comfortable as she can with restricting big picture empathy. [ - ]: INFALLIBLE - When Silver makes a choice, be it over a contract or a personal matter, she becomes quite obstinate that her decision was the best possible one. In most cases, thankfully, it ends up being true; however, when Silver does make a mistake, she will outright refuse to accept responsibility, instead often blaming all other factors surrounding the situation for impeding her. If the mistake is a deadly error that costs innocent lives, than her adamance  increases tenfold, but in her heart, she knows she’s not free from wrongdoing - she just refuses to relent her headstrong exterior for fear of losing the respect of the Wild Pack.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES:

Indomitable Will: unnaturally strong willpower, able to resist all forms of temptation, including subordination manipulation, telepathy, subliminal seduction, & mind control.

Weapons Specialist: skilled with a katana, throwing projectiles, stun guns, & dual-wield fighting.

Master Martial Artist: and gymnast!

Multilingual: Fluent in seven languages - English, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Somali, & Symkarian

WEAKNESSES:

Human: Quite literally, she’s human. No level of aptitude with guns, throwing knives, Kevlar bodysuits, or martial arts will help her defeat super-powered foes, and even though she can keep up with the best of them, a well timed sniper would write the end to Silver’s story immediately.

The Wild Pack: One of the last vestiges of her family history, Silver’s pledge to lead the Wild Pack includes protecting them, at all costs. There’s few honors she holds higher than the privilege to be apart of their ranks, let alone their commander in chief. She wouldn’t jeopardize their well-being for any contract, no matter how ludicrous.

Symkaria: It goes without saying that on the global playing field, Symkaria is the beating heart of Silver’s allegiances. She loves her country, and she would do anything to return it to the glory of her childhood - even if that means aligning with the wrong people for the right amount of time. Silver’s compassion for her countrymen - and longing for what used to be - outranks her perception of the bigger picture.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER?:

Well. I love Silver Sable, off the bat - the Spiderverse is pretty much my favorite comic conglomerate in the world, so I feel pretty comfortable writing characters derived from it. I dig a good villain, or at least, antagonists, and I just feel like Silver is one of those characters you can really dig your teeth into & flesh out so many different layers. The death of her mother at a young age, the duty to a country she saw prosper & implode within her lifetime, the lineage to uphold within The Wild Pack, and moving forward, the mending of Symkaria & creation of Sable International -- they’re all different strokes of the same woman, and I love poking & prodding around them all to see what sticks!

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?

Money. She’s only there to fulfill a contract - she’s been hired by the ISA to retrieve any powered people she can find. She’s not a big fan of Sokovia as of late, especially given their recent catastrophes. The damage to Sokovia had a ripple effect, upsetting the socioeconomic standard of neighboring countries. This, of course, includes Symkaria; getting powered people out of Sokovia will hopefully halt the continued destabilization she’s watched through her country even further off balance, making it easier for the oppressive regime currently in place to make swooping laws

(I would like to offer your current players the ability to opt into this plot! I don’t want to assume anyone wants her as an antagonist - if no one’s interested, she can certainly creep along the sidelines within the city of Matchak in the name of reconaissance. I would die if she & the Wild Pack were part of the reason why people are going missing in the woods, or at the very least, they begin to provide intelligence as to who or what is causing it.)

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?

No, Silver & her team aren’t superpowered and thus, outside the scope of the Accords, the ISA, or anybody else, for that matter.

(Well, maybe not Interpol, but that’s not her chief concern... ever.)

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER:

Thou Shalt Not Kill: Silver doesn’t consider herself a mercenary, unlike the rest of her crew, and for good reason. She staunchly keeps to a “no kill” rule; her clients pay her for retrieval, not assassination (and even if they did, her price would be too high). Silver specifically accepts contracts that require her to bring the target back alive, preferably to face trial. It’s a moral and economical decision - she believes in the hard lines of justice, and typically, the Wild Pack will get hired to also run security for these high profile trials. It’s a win-win in her eyes, especially because this moral alignment begins & ends with her; she can’t force the Wild Pack, a band of true mercenaries, to abide by that rule unless it’s part of the fine print. Otherwise, they don’t get paid.

I’m Not Your Silver Lining: Silver does not “connect” well with others. Even the Wild Pack, despite being raised within their ranks, has become inexplicably difficult for her to bond with after she assumed a leadership rule over them. She doesn’t put herself on any kind of pedestal; it’s just lonely at the top, and heavy is the head that wears the.. crown? Tactical helmet? Whatever. Regardless, her icy exterior isn’t the result of her pride, but her inability to display outward affection. It makes her quite difficult to befriend, let alone romance.

Anything You Can Do...: She does not do well with being confronted with her own mortality, chiefly the indisputable fact that she is not super powered. She’s quick to start a fight with anyone who dares to say it. Silver has accomodated this woeful transgression of fate in every way she could, keeping a strict training routine that began in her childhood and never letting herself have a “real” life outside of the Wild Pack. Stories of her “powers,” passed in hushed whispers around Symkaria, never failed to bring the smallest of smiles to the Ice Queen’s lips, before quickly melting away. She feels uncomfortable around true superpowered individuals, knowing she’s at a tactical disadvantage at all times, so Silver prefers the company of augmented humans or just normal people.

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS:

Peter Parker: NEVERENDING PLOTS FOR SPIDEY!!!! I’m partial to Silver being an antagonist against Spiderman; I’m also partial to them being begruding partners, and pretty much everything in between! There’s a lot of back story I would want to establish with Peter’s player, since Silver does have some background in NYC at the Symkarian Embassy. Has she heard of him from her time in America, and can’t believe her eyes when she sees web residue in the forests of Sokovia? Maybe he intrigues her, in the sense of cat-and-mouse, the chase for a target that she can never quite catch. Anyway, I just like that they’re well matched and could endlessly go in circles around one another!

Dick Grayson: Silver will not take well to other mercenaries on her turf, and if she finds herself losing targets - and money - because of some dick in a spandex suit, she’s going to intervene the only way she knows how: a tactical net and a stun gun, to haul his ass off to ISA, or whoever offers the highest bid for his head. Either way, their connection would be openly antagonistic, and it’d be way more enjoyable if he continously slips through her fingers through the fault of only her own.

Tony Stark / Bruce Wayne: Waaaaaay in the future, but right off the bat - I know I’d love to lay the groundwork for Silver to have Tony and/or Bruce help her begin the first drafts of Sable International weaponry, specifically the special red energy blasters they use as well as their unique armor.

I like the idea of Tony trying to spear head any kind of science based project, but obviously, he has his own demons that he’s struggling with re: his inventions, so that would be the slowest of burns for Silver to actually convince him to help her of all people. Potentially, it would be easier to recruit Bruce because she has a hard moral alignment of Justice, which may appeal to him, but it also may not since she doesn’t have an issue breaking other countries’ laws to acquire her target. It really depends! I’m open to either or both options.

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: ( ohhhhh buddy... )

THE WILD PACK: Silver’s ascenscion to leader of the Wild Pack may not be a new development, but  I don’t think she has quite the handle over her role as her father had. At the moment, she’s still trying to prove herself that she was their best choice. It doesn’t help that she was merely picked for lineages’ sake, the group being “passed on” to her, despite there being members who were more qualified and possibly, even more respected than a Sablinova. It’s caused Silver to retreat within herself, for now, as she tries to feel out what’s the best version of herself to be that can actively command their respect. I want to see her grow within this role, specifically finding her stride and proving herself as not just her father’s daughter, but her own person. I’m mainly focused on her accepting the weight of her father’s death as a “positive” burden to shoulder, because it gave her the Wild Pack, but without anyone to banter off of, I want to remain a little removed from addressing her relationships with individual members until I get a better idea of her.

THE BAD GUY?: At the moment, she’s not very concerned with anyone’s opinion of her, outside of the Wild Pack’s. If that means that she’s comes across as a “villain” for simply doing her job, she doesn’t quite care - everyone has to make a living somehow, and she hasn’t seen these so-called “superheros” do very much to help anyone other than themselves. Sure, individual civilians are great to rescue, but they hold no concern for the bigger picture when it comes to their actions.

THE GLOBAL PEACE AGENCY: I don’t know what the hell is going to happen with this group, but boy am I excited! Regardless of whether their true to their name, I think Silver’s entire personality is tailored to be taken advantage of by them, especially if they promise stability for Symkaria. As long as she’s not exposed to intel that hints at bad intentions, she’d probably operate at their beck and call, until her trust in their motivations becomes fractured.

SABLE INTERNATIONAL: I want Sable International to come to fruition!!! I don’t know how, or why, but I just love that journey for her! Maybe as a retirement plan from “bounty hunting,” so she can lean more into private security consulting? Maybe as a tactical weaponry distributor that could rival Lex Luthor / Trask / Oscorps’ on the global market, but in the name of “good”? Maybe something happens to the Wild Pack and it’s the only way she can keep herself sane in the following months? WHO KNOWS!!! I’m always open to ideas!

CHARACTER BIO —

Silvija Sablinova and her mother, Sacha, were sleeping peacefully in their beds the morning that the Sablinova family was changed forever. It was too early to even be awake, dawn having not yet struck its colorful brilliance across the lavender-grey when the drone peppered the valley. It wasn’t the first time such an act of aggression was lobbed across their way, but this time, her father Ernest wasn’t there to save them, away on an assignment with his Wild Pack. It was the end of February, the winter of 2002. Silver was five, and from that moment on, she never left her father’s side again.

After that, the story sounds the same. Daddy's little girl raised to be his right hand; there's no softness, no grief, only purpose for them both to find vengenance for her mother's killer. Not a border nor an army could keep them from finding whoever ordered the strike, and with the Wild Pack by their side, their path toward retribution knew no limit. In the mean time, they trained, and Silver's entire life began and end at all the same lines as her father's. It would be nice, if the story could stop there, but it never does.

For generations, the Sablinova's served the monarchy that ruled over Symkaria, until World War II threw the entire planet off-kilter and brought their beloved country into turmoil. Her grandfather was a prolific Nazi hunter and a national hero, actively fighting against the civil war threatening to break out across the land. Her father followed in his footsteps, his career more focused on collecting HYDRA agents with terror charges, alongside his infamous band of mercenaries as they brought countless criminals to justice. In 2017, when it was exposed that HYDRA had infiltrated SHIELD, a frequent employer of the Wild Pack...It was no surprise they would be targeted, but once again, Symkaria became the battleground of their disposal; their loved ones targeted, their neighborhoods raided, and soon, they were left no choice but to go underground.

Silver was there the day that her father's tenure as their fearless leader came to a shuddering halt, face to face with the man who hadn't just taken her mother from them. He'd destroyed their homeland in the name of the enemy. He'd taken peace from innocents without a second thought. In his final act of treachery, he stole her father's life and body, slipping through the Wild Pack's clutches as they gave desperate chase, but to no avail. She was the natural choice as his successor; it was a lifetime achievement tainted with sorrow and defeat.

The hunt has never ended, despite what Silver says. She knows her father's dead, and she'll probably never find the man who destroyed her family, but still, she waits. Until then, it was business as usual; catch the bad guys, bring them to justice, rinse & repeat. No duty is monotonous when it serves a greater purpose, but eventually, even Silver couldn't stop herself from pushing the Wild Pack toward Sokovia. Their unrest had begun to bubble over and spill across its borders, eventually displacing refugees and criminal activity into Symkaria's own. Silver Sable may be investigating client contracts, but Silver Sablinova is bidding her time, waiting for something, anything to help her either accept the fate that's been handed to her, or to find the man that caused it.

Until then, all she can do is be stronger than she was the day before.

[rusocialpod]

Assimil is a dialogue based learning course popular amongst language learners. This is clearly illustrated by the 4+ star reviews on Amazon for the majority of the available courses. Assimil has a range of courses available in a variety of languages, but is geared primarily towards French speakers. Dubbed "The Magic Books” by NPR, Assimil is quickly approaching both 100 years of language teaching, and 100 languages in their catalog of courses. What is Assimil? Assimil, a French company, was created by Alphonse Chérel in 1929. It publishes several different series, their most popular being Sans Peine or With Ease. The Assimil Sans Peine courses are a combination of dialogue-based texts and audio where you learn by working through passive and active stages. In the passive stage you complete the lessons by reading and listening. While in the active stage you not only listen to and read the lessons, but attempt to translate the dialogues on your own. Compared to the apps and podcasts that many learners use these days, Assimil arguably offers an “old fashioned" approach. The method hasn’t changed much since its original release in the 1920's. So is it still a relevant learning tool? In the past, I have used Assimil to study languages I already had a foundation in - Chinese and Croatian. So for this review I decided to take on the challenge of studying a language in which I was a beginner: Korean. [caption id="attachment_20749" align="aligncenter" width="700"] My Assimil "Korean With Ease" course[/caption] Assimil’s Korean courses are only available in French, so I choose to work through Assimil Coréen Sans Peine to see how I would do. Before I started using Coréen Sans Peine, I’d categorise myself as a “false beginner”. I had dabbled in the language, but my Korean reading was precarious at best, my vocabulary extremely limited and my understanding of grammar non-existent. Having completed the course, here are my thoughts. Assimil Korean with Ease: Getting Started Each course in Assimil’s Sans Peine series includes both a book and four audio CDs (and/or an MP3 disc). The courses are available in 148 language combinations, although only 16 of these are for English speakers while 49 are for French speakers. I really like that both the audio and book are available as a complete package, especially because the audio is directly related to the text. What’s more, I like that the audio is to the point. There aren’t any fancy introductions or extra banter from the speakers that you have to endure to get to the real “meat” of the program. Assimil’s Sans Peine courses are created with beginners in mind, and it’s very easy to get started. Each book includes a thorough introduction to the language with tips on pronunciation, the writing system if there is one, and general features of the language. Following the introduction, the course dives right in. For languages with different writing systems, such as Chinese, Japanese or Korean, transliterations are included in Assimil’s courses. While I could have slowly worked my way through Korean texts, I really appreciated having the transliteration printed below the dialogues so that I could focus on speaking and listening comprehension, rather than my reading skills. Plus, the accompanying audio offers you the chance to hear how the words sound so you don’t feel like you’re guessing. [caption id="attachment_20750" align="aligncenter" width="700"] A look inside the Assimil course.[/caption] Each chapter includes a brief dialogue (although these grow longer as you progress) and notes on content. There are also exercises that give you the opportunity to use the material you’ve learned. Together with the translation that conveys the meaning of the text, a literal translation is included so that you get a feel for word order and vocabulary without needing vocabulary lists or grammar exercises. The lessons intentionally avoid going into great depth on grammar, instead offering a collection of simple dialogues with detailed footnotes on rules as they appear as well as notes on the culture tied to the language. How I Used Assimil I personally work through the lessons, reading the dialogues out loud before shadowing them once more along with the audio. The way that I use the course, the active stage starts when I repeat the lessons with the audio alone to see how much I’ve really mastered. I can then go back and review what I need with the text. I also like to try out what I’m learning as a part of language exchanges. This approach works well for my learning style, but I could understand why other learners might not be a fan of the series. For me, the process ensures that the material I’m learning really sticks, but others might find it tedious. The strengths of the Assimil method definitely lie in the way it offers context for what it teaches rather than word lists or grammar exercises isolated from how the language functions in day-to-day life. Most lessons can be completed in around an hour, so they are a manageable length. Assimil with Ease Review: What Did I Learn? Assimil Korean includes practical and relevant phrases and vocabulary for real world situations. Through the course, I learned words and phrases that were incredibly useful and applicable to daily conversations. These included: I almost forgot! What genre of books do you read most? What time do you get off work? There was nothing to eat in the fridge, so I went out to the restaurant across the way. What kind of food do you like? I really like that Assimil jumps right in and skips the laborious introductions that span several chapters in other courses. My only criticism is that you are not equipped with everything you need to give a full introduction to someone you’ve just met. While I don’t need to know how to describe my entire extended family, it would be nice to get a bit more content for introducing myself, my hobbies, and my preferences. One thing that’s really great about the series is that the dialogues vary from language to language so that they’re more culturally and geographically relevant to the language that the book teaches. But this also means that depending on the learner and depending on the language, the usefulness of the material in the books really varies. Compared to other With Ease books, the Korean course did seem much more travel/business orientated, but there was enough additional content (karaoke, seasons, food, jokes) that this didn’t deter me much. Overall, the language in the texts is relatively formal. Personally, I prefer this. I would rather be overly formal than rudely informal. Especially with a language like Korean where honorifics are important. What Level Can You Reach With Assimil? Assimil claim that their Sans Peine series will take learners to the B2 level according to the CEFR scale and that their Perfectionnement series will get you to the C1 level. I’m not entirely sure how accurate this is because while you may work with material that ranges from the A1 to B2 or C1 level, there are gaps that would need to be filled with the help of other resources. In terms of vocabulary, it was not as thorough as I would like from a course that works through so many levels. For most learners, this is fine because relying on just one course or learning tool to teach you a language is never a good strategy, but it could be deceiving for those expecting an all-in-one language resource. I will say this: Because the Sans Peine course gets to B2 level in about 71 lessons, they quickly grow challenging. The course also covers quite a bit of grammar, but it’s done in a way that isn’t overwhelming. You’re introduced to different grammar concepts on an as-needed basis. For the same reason, the course isn’t for someone who hasn’t had any prior exposure to the language. It’s a bit difficult to pick up without any experience in your target language. But it’s fantastic for those with a basic vocabulary. What Could be Better about Assimil? I did have some issues with the Assimil approach. The introductions and basic pleasantries were not as in-depth as I would have expected for a course aimed at beginners. There are some phrases that fall into this category, but the course quickly shifts into situational and culture-related dialogues. While these are useful later down the line, I thought that just two short chapters on introductions weren’t quite enough. At the same time, however, this is something you can easily find in any other resource, so it’s not a huge strike against Assimil. The one thing that I would really love to see added to the series would be additional relevant phrases at the end of each chapter. These could be phrases that might fit into the example dialogue and they would serve two beneficial purposes. One, you could role play and swap out some of the phrases so you really get to maximise the dialogues in the book. And two, you get additional vocabulary and phrases suitable to the theme of each chapter without having to figure out the grammar to piece them together yourself. My biggest complaint is about the audio. Most computers no longer have a disc drive built in, so I had limited listening options. It would be far more convenient if the book included an access code to download the files online or you were given a USB drive with the audio instead. In addition, I wasn’t a huge fan of the transliterations for the language in the book, but only because it was different from what I’m used to. There really isn’t a standard for Korean, so it’s hard to penalize them for this. Plus, since I wasn’t that great at reading Korean, it was helpful to have this available to me. Finally, the selection of Assimil courses available to English speakers is relatively small in comparison to their overall catalogue. If you don’t speak French, your options with Assimil are limited. This also makes accessibility outside of Europe somewhat difficult (or more expensive). If you do speak French (or another continental European language), however, Assimil is an excellent resource to work on laddering. Assimil Review: Did I Actually Remember What I Learned? Because it’s a traditional coursebook, Assimil really doesn’t have a way to keep you accountable. It’s up to you as the learner to monitor your progress - there are no leaderboards, progress bars, or points awarded for working through the material. That said, the lessons are short and easily digestible, so there’s not anything to keep you from continuing through the lessons on a regular basis. The only critique I had is that you do have to find the time to sit down and concentrate on the lessons, which is different from some of the other resources available that are more portable. If you don’t have the time to really sit down and study, you can always just work with the audio to see how your listening comprehension fares. I really enjoy Assimil’s approach. It was just challenging enough to hold my attention and the time it takes to complete the lessons is just right. I also like the extra cultural tidbits and language facts they add in the endnotes. It gives me a nice break from actual language learning but still keeps me in the right mindset. I was honest with myself as I completed the various exercises, working to find the answers on my own before double-checking the result against those provided. Because the lessons were so succinct, I found I ended up with just the right balance of right and wrong answers to keep me motivated (not so many that I grew frustrated but not so few that I became bored). If you really want a way to track your progress, you can do so with the exercises at the end of each chapter. You can also check how you’re doing through the review sections, by how many lessons you’ve completed and by how much of the audio you understand without the help of the text. The book contains review sections every six chapters. I was pleased with the frequency of these - neither too much nor too little. The course structure offers you the opportunity to work through the information in a variety of ways, so even though I didn’t retain everything I learned using the course, I was able to take away the things I was most likely to use in the future. Assimil: The Verdict The verdict: I would definitely use Assimil again in the future, but with the caveat of doing it my own way. Assimil brought me from having an entirely shaky understanding of Korean to being able to confidently have short and direct exchanges in the language. I am definitely not at a B2 (or even B1) level, but I would say that I am somewhere in the vicinity of A2 and that I might hit B1 with another pass at the book and by more intensively working on the translations, or active phase of the book. The Assimil method runs contrary to the Speak from Day 1 approach. It suggests that the learner take a passive learning approach for the first several chapters, then step into an active approach in the later chapters. This means that you work through the beginning of the book by reading, listening, and completing the exercises. You’re then advised to go back during the active stage and work on translating the lessons. If you ignore these directions, however, and reading the dialogues from the first lesson, you can Speak from Day 1 with Assimil. The great thing about a self-guided course is that it’s, well, self-guided. You can use it however you see fit and take as much time as you need with each section. I will use Assimil again in the future - in fact, I’m already using it for Russian. While the content of every dialogue may not be useful for every learner, I like the context that it gives the language and I find this approach much more effective than that of some of the other available course books. You can find Assimil Coréen Sans Peine on Amazon. Other Assimil courses available for English speakers: New French With Ease Spanish With Ease German With Ease Italian With Ease Brazilian Portuguese Arabic With Ease Japanese With Ease The post Assimil Review: An Honest Look at the Assimil Language Learning System appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

[taeguboi]

The Very Hopeful, and I [BTS Soulmate!AU]

WATTPAD // FIC MASTERLIST // REACTIONS

PROLOGUE: MINDFUL // PROLOGUE: YOUTHFUL 

PROLOGUE: HOPEFUL

Graduation wasn’t exactly what I had mapped it out to be in my mind in my early teen years. Sure, I still hadn’t met my soulmate, and I wasn’t expecting to, but I also didn’t have the one person I did expect to be there, watching me. My greatest ally. Whilst I was content with finally finishing high school and ready to move on to the next stage of my life, I’ll admit it did feel a little empty in the moment that I thought about him as I stepped up onto that stage to officially graduate. But he is the second name down on my wrist, so I imagine he won’t have left my life for good, of that I’m confident, so in my mind, that makes it okay.

On the other hand, I’ve been living for a solid 23 years, but haven’t aged a day since turning 18. I’ve already put in quite a lot of work, you know, and this is all for someone who I haven’t even encountered yet for over 2 whole decades. I’ve become fluent in English for this person, doing extra classes since forever, not even being able to know for sure if the name is indeed from and English speaking person, or if the person happens to have a name that originates from an English speaking country but they never know or learn a word of it. This person could even be a native Korean speaker like me, however slim those chances, possibly rendering all that effort pointless.

The names do appear according to a combination of native language, where that person was born, where that person is to be brought up, and family. Fortunately, 2 of my names are in Hangul, however the top name isn’t. I suppose it could have been worse; I have heard of cases in which only one of the names is in the native language, and the other two are completely different to each other.

Not long ago, a friend of mine, who was actually rather open about his fate, showed me his names. The top name, his native language, Korean, the second name though is in Chinese, and the third in French… Now imagine not being able to comprehend a single word your enemy says to you? Alright, there is a good chance they are your enemy because of something physical they do, but there’s also the chance they are in charge of a rival company you need to negotiate with 10 years from now and should you lose, you could be led to great despair.

I’ve decided to remain in Seoul for at least another year while I earn some extra cash, on top of what’s already been saved, to travel with, and then I’ve made the decision to go out into the big wide world. I’ve not a clue whether I’m supposed to go to her or if she will find me. Now, I know I could make use of the internet, or I could hire a detective, but I don’t want to. I want my story to hold that element of wonder that transcends those national barriers.

So I’ve been working overtime, buying cheaper food, and I advertised for a lodger at my place to help save on rent. The latter is so there won’t be a problem with me leaving my home to live elsewhere, should this happen, and if I don’t find her, then I can happily return to a home without having to find another place.

But now, I’m steering more and more towards the idea of finally meeting her.

The names on my wrist come in different styles. My enemy’s name in messy writing is sandwiched between a shield and a sword; at first, my parents were terrified to see this kind of imagery on their child’s wrist when I was born, and I lived wearily for quite some time. It turned out however that the imagery was of a foil sword and the torso area which can be targeted in a certain type of fencing. Like many people, I discovered my enemy during high school, and it just so happened that he was into fencing. It also just so happened that I had to have several appointments with a psychotherapist following the many “pranks” which that person pulled with me as the target.

Which leads me to the middle name on my wrist, the person I wish could have been there to defend or at least comfort me; my ally. His name is black intertwined with a hint of green and surrounding this name are a few symbols, floating. The sun, and 3 division symbols. One pink, one green, one blue. These symbols, despite their minimalism, and their colours alongside the writing create a very colourful piece, something I guess I feel quite fortunate to have on my skin permanently.

I’ve been told that the colourings could hold meanings, but I have never been able to come to any solid conclusions; I’ve in the past spend probably hundreds of hours researching the meanings behind colours, but each source tells a different story. So I just instead appreciate my, what mom used to call, “special” wrist. Special, because more than 2/3 colours overall is generally seen as something unique,  as is imagery for more than 1 name. Apparently, it’s a sign of our evolution progressing forward as some people begin to create children that are born with these hints as well as the names. Research is being put into it of course, whether we can reproduce results like mine through studying genetics and what not. Personally, I’m not interested and would have been content without any imagery to my names.

That’s what holds the extra sense of secrecy and wonder with my destined romance. I have nothing more than just her name at the top of the short list. I don’t know where she is from, how she’s going to come into my life, or what our relationship and future will be like. Itt remains a mystery, and hopefully a surprise when it happ—

You’ll have to excuse me whilst I take this call; it’s most likely to do with the advertisement I posted in the paper.

“Yes?”

“Hi, I’m calling about the ad… I’ve just moved to this town and really need somewhere more permanent to live than my pen pal’s place…”

“Wow, that’s great actually. You’re the first one to contact me about it actually… Would you like to meet somewhere tomorrow to discus…”

“I’m sorry, I can’t do tomorrow, but I can do next week if that’s okay?”

“No problem. Is there a particular day…?…”

“Not really. Let’s just go for Monday, perhaps?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you know where the Namusairo Cafe is?”

“I should be able to find out by then, no worries.”

“Great. And may I ask who I’ll be looking for?”

“Y/n. Y/f/n Y/l/n.”

[kayejwrotes]

Hey!!! Mmm I think I read somewhere your first language isn't English? If so, how did you learn it? If I'm wrong please ignore me, I'm not a native speaker but I really want to write in English cause nothing sounds nice in my language, so I'm trying to get tips from writers, hope you get a yummy treat for your hard work!

Hey there anon! :)Thank you! I got milk and Nutella, so yeah, yummy treat for me! :DUhm, I only started writing regularly in English in March, but I’ve been studying it for a long time, so I’m sorry but this is going to be a long post. I have a lot to say about this! 

Yes, my first language isn’t English. I’m actually a native Italian speaker. I studied English since elementary school (now they start teaching it from kindergarten as a second language, from what I’ve seen in these years) because in Italy it is customary to study English as a second language and we often study a third language from middle school too (usually we can choose between Spanish, French, or German). I learned all the basic grammar in school and then went on to a high school specifically centered on teaching languages. So I got better there, but what really helped me was reading books/fanfics, listening to music and watching films in English (first with subtitles and then just with the English audio).Still, I’m not a native and I make lots of mistakes here and there. :D

I get it for the “nothing sounds right in my language”. Italian makes everything fandom related seem weird too. 

If you’d like to write in English I would advise you to ask someone to beta for you! It really helps to have someone correct the mistakes you made and explain what’s wrong and what’s not! To me, that’s the best kind of help you could get.  

Also, talk to other people in English on the internet or in real life, but really talking, reading, breathing the language will do a great difference. 

In high school, our teachers encouraged us to think in our target language. It may sound weird at first, but it works. It helps you starting to construct your sentences directly following the pattern of your target language and not translating from your own, so give it a try. :D

You will also start to notice mistakes you never saw before in no time. :)

It helps also keeping your English fresh. As in, read it regularly, check your basic grammar rules and listen to it as often as you can. Try to keep your knowledge fresh and expand your vocabulary. It personally annoys me the most having to check the dictionary every single time I need a word, so I try to read different articles and posts and learn new words from them.There are also a few blogs here on Tumblr that give great advices about writing.Most of them are in English and they have great posts about the use and construction of sentences and how to build characters and such.One of my favorites is @lets-get-fictional. It has a lot of posts that helped me while writing.I don’t reblog them here, but my main it’s my dump for whatever I find useful for writing so you could look there too. :)I think I covered the whole topic, but let me know if you have other questions and if this helped! :)Hope you start your journey into writing soon, anon! Best wishes to you!

[project-ml]

Project: April Fools — Knife to Meet You

Knife To Meet You

Written by: @mimosaeyes, @667-darkavenue, @megatraven & @soundofez

Beta-ed by: @altoblt5, @mimosaeyes, @667-darkavenue, @megatraven & @soundofez

Summary: College AU and Reverse Crush AU. Ladybug and Chat Noir run a game of Murder in their uni. Marinette plots to take out her target: Adrien Agreste.

They met at midnight on the rooftop of the university dorms.

“You excited?” Chat Noir asked, eyes gleaming in the dark.

“Let’s get this Murder started.”

Chat Noir started humming. Ladybug swooned at his voice. “Of course you know English,” she sighed, trying not to melt at how unfairly perfect her partner was.

He laughed at that. “I mean, English is kind of a language lots of kids here learn, LB.”

She grabbed their bag of plastic knives and said, “Yeah, but you speak it so amazingly.”

Under the cover of night she blushed, afraid she’d said too much. But as usual, her crime fighting partner seemed not to notice her crushing on him. “I’m thinking we slip it under their doors,” he mused, reaching forward for the bag and unabashedly brushing her hand in the process.

Her heart stuttered the way it always did in response to casual touches from Chat Noir. “How dramatic.” Then again, drama was the entire point of the thing, so she added, “Make sure the name on the handle is facing down… For the suspense!”

Chat Noir nodded, pulling a knife out of the bag. “First up��. Who has Adrien Agreste?”

Ladybug couldn't help but smike (half-smile, half-smirk) when she read her own name. "Looks like it's Marinette Dupain-Cheng who has him."

Ladybug glanced at him, and the sigh he released at hearing her name made her wonder if he harbored feelings for her, though that may be wishful thinking on her part.

“Did you know she speaks Chinese as well as English and French?” His voice went dreamy as he gazed at her name on the handle. “I’m taking lessons so maybe one day I can actually talk to her.”

“But you speak French and apparently English just fine,” Ladybug’s voice cracked. “Talk to her!” Talk to me, Chat Noir!

His chuckle was stupidly attractive. “Don't worry,” he said with a smike to match hers. “My time is coming.”

What the hell does that mean? Ladybug thought. Shaking her head of the thought, she smirked. "Let's get to these knives now, yeah?"

She slung the bag over her shoulder and darted off across the rooftop. It gave her a little thrill to hear and sense Chat Noir falling into step behind her.

“You’re like a Murder-y Santa Claus!” he yelled gleefully.

It was kind of true. In their dorms, students stayed up late to watch the crack beneath their door, waiting with baited breath for Ladybug and Chat Noir to begin the game they’d all signed up for. When the first butter knife slid beneath the door to Alya’s room, she practically yanked it up to her face to read before the hero on the other side had even let go.

Marinette's room was next door. Chat Noir stared at the neat, looping cursive on the little whiteboard attached to the door.

“A-are we going to deliver these knives or not?” Ladybug asked with a nervous laugh, jolting her partner out of his thoughts.

"Ah, right," he said with an equally nervous chuckle. He took one last look at the whiteboard before sliding the knife beneath the door.

Ladybug pulled out the next knife, which had Kim's name on it. She consulted her list of names and assignments.

“Oh, Alix is going to take him apart,” Chat Noir chuckled, peering over her shoulder. “These pairs are so fortuitous.”

They both heard a triumphant, muffle, “HAH,” come from the other side of the door when Alix received her knife. After each knife had been distributed this way, the heroes shared a fist bump and a “Well done,” before returning to the roof.

“See ya at the end of the game,” Chat said before vaulting off into the night.

Ladybug stared longingly after him for a moment, and then turned to go back to Marinette’s room— her room. She climbed carefully in through the open window, peeled off her mask, and picked up the plastic knife waiting for her.

“Who the heck is Adrien Agreste?” Marinette asked, looking to Tikki for help. When her roommate shrugged and offered no words, Marinette sighed. “Well, whoever he is, guess I’ll be meeting him soon enough.” She spun the knife around before setting it down and preparing herself for bed.

The next morning, the dorm was abuzz with wary residents, peeking out of their rooms before darting from Murder safe-zone to safe-zone. Others had suspiciously butter knife-like bulges in the back of their jeans, and stalked about, not too surreptitiously waiting for an opportune moment to strike.

Marinette plopped herself down for a bowl of cereal in the dining hall and was instantly accosted by a wild-eyed, earnest Alya. “I’m going to die.”

“Good morning, babe. Who are you supposed to be stalking?” Marinette asked, as if she hadn’t written the name on Alya’s knife herself.

“Rose is after me,” Alya hissed, ignoring Marinette’s question as her eyes darted around the room.

“Rose? Wait, how do you know that?” Marinette asked, bewildered.

Alya leaned in, looked around them, and whispered, "It's always the queer ones." Marinette wasn't quite sure what to say to that, but she didn’t have to say anything after all. Alya continued, "Also, that girl has never looked at anyone so long, save Juleka."

Marinette considered this, then shrugged, conceding the point.

“I need to make sure Rose doesn’t get me before I get my target,” Alya confided, lowering her voice still more conspiratorially. With relish she announced, “Chloe Bourgeois!”

“Woooow!” Marinette feigned astonishment. “Isn’t fake-stabbing Chloe, like, your dream?”

While thinking of Chloe, something she couldn’t remember last night struck her - Adrien Agreste!

“Wait, I think I have her boyfriend,” Marinette whispered.

Alya gave Marinette a strange look. “Chloe doesn't have a boyfriend, she’s too stuck-up for that,” the bespectacled girl muttered back.

“Are you sure? Doesn’t she like, constantly fawn over that other rich kid?” Marinette asked.

“I mean, she totally does, but I don’t think they're dating,” Alya said, unconvinced that Chloe would make time for anything other than herself.

“Oh.” Marinette ruminated, munching on her breakfast. Clearly, she knew next to nothing about her target. Adrien was undeniably popular yet mysterious, rarely eking out time from his busy schedule to appear at the dorm’s social events.

“I don’t even know where I’d find him,” Marinette mumbled.

“I gotchu.” Alya leaned in close and whispered, “I know he does fencing classes in the afternoons.”

Marinette eyed her skeptically. “And you know this how, exactly?”

“Nino. Bumps into him when the guy gets out of 'em. He also said that he commented on his music, so I guess he got curious about him." She looked around conspiratorially before finishing, "Heard that Nino invited him to hear him play in his room, and I'm pretty sure I can get us both an invite too."

Thoughtfully, Marinette began nodding as a plan of attack took shape in her mind. “We can tag team it,” she suggested, a note of enthusiasm creeping into her voice. “Chat up Adrien, find out about his schedule, and scope out Miss Queen Bee while we’re at it.”

“I would high five you right now if it wouldn't raise suspicion,” Alya said, conscious of all the wary players in the dining hall.

She pulled through and did indeed get them into Nino’s room that night. Marinette had some trouble finding it thanks to someone’s smart idea to unscrew all the lightbulbs on his floor.

“You took your time,” Alya muttered as she opened Nino’s door to let Marinette in.

“Hey, I've never been here before,” Marinette protested, her eyes sliding past her friend to glance at Adrien, her mystery target. She had to look away quickly, though, because his eyes were already fixed on her.

Nino was about to greet them with narrow eyes when everybody's attention was drawn to Adrien. "I killed Nathanael!" he practically shouted, all the while staring at Mariette.

"Dude," Nino said, shooting him a look of mostly pity as Marinette and Alya started to laugh.

“That was quick,” Marinette remarked, impressed. The game had only been on for a couple of hours by that point. Clearly she was squaring off against a formidable opponent – even if he didn’t seem very intimidating just then, inexplicably flustered and awkward.

Adrien pushed Nino aside, as he approached Marinette. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, but didn’t say anything other than, “Thanks.”

“Are we allowed to know who your next victim is?”

“No one in this room,” Marinette blurted. “Ah, I mean, truce while we’re here? I’ve been stressing all day, I would really like to relax.”

Adrien and Alya both agreed, but Nino still looked unsure. "Maybe, but I'm not agreeing until we can also agree on hands being in plain sight at all time. I'm not about to die before I get my first kill, and no I'm not going to tell you guys who it is."

Alya rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s paranoia. “A truce is a truce, Nino.”

Then, deceptively yet effortlessly casual, she turned to Adrien and asked, “How’d you spare the time to get Nath anyway? You always seem so busy.”

“I was just lucky to get the pounce on him on the way back from practice while he was leaving class,” Adrien said with a small smike.

“Oh… So you must finish class at, what, 5 or 6?” Alya tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“Today’s was actually shorter than usual, usually we’re there until 8,” Adrien shrugged.

“Every day?” Nino looked incredulous.

"Pretty much," he said nonchalantly.

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin. "How do you find the time to hangout with friends and all?

Adrien shifted as though slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t… really have many friends to hang out with,” he admitted. “Mainly I just meet up with Chloe for lunch – we’ve known each other since we were kids.”

Alya did Marinette the solid of getting Adrien to admit his schedule, so Marinette returned the favor. “Oh! Chloe Bourgeois?”

“Bourgeois, yeah,” Adrien agreed, his tiny smike dancing around his lips once more, though this one looked a little forced.

“Dude, you need more friends,” Nino said bluntly, and then looked surprised at himself.

“She stuck by me at a hard time,” Adrien replied, the words sounding like an old and tired excuse.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but it kind of looks like she's still sticking to you, and not in a good way,” Marinette stated in a soft voice.

Adrien’s cheeks reddened slightly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I just don’t want to… hurt her, I guess.”

A pause developed and lingered for a beat. Nino finally broke the silence, clapping Adrien on the shoulder and declaring, “Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t chill out with some new friends.”

As he went over to his laptop to start up some tunes, Marinette watched her Murder target curiously, wondering why this lonely, kind boy she’d written off as a typical rich kid was so familiar. Marinette scooted closer to this quiet shadow she had often overlooked. “I’m Marinette.”

“We’ve met,” he said with a laugh. “You, uh, probably don’t remember, I mean, we— W-we were at a Gabriel runway, show, competition, thing— Your model slipped, and you ran straight out to see if she was okay, and I… I really a-admired that.”

Marinette knew exactly what moment he was talking about, but she had a feeling that wasn’t why he was familiar. “I know,” she finally said. “But now we can have a proper introduction worthy of what I’m sure will be a great friendship.”

As if to formalise it, she stuck out her hand, and after hesitating only a moment, he shook it. His fingers were warm against her skin. They held the handshake for probably too long, until Nino happened to call over his shoulder, “Hey guys, come check this out!”

With a delighted smile and a wink so fast Marinette would have missed it if she had blinked, Adrien left her side to watch Nino fiddle with a sampler. Adrien’s back was turned toward her and Marinette thought of the knife with his name on it. It wasn’t against the rules of Murder to break the truce they’d verbally made with Nino, but… Marinette would play nice this one time.

---

Marinette squinted across the street at the gym doors, looking for blond hair in the mass of people.

“Hi, Marinette!” a shy, oddly familiar voice says behind her, and she jumped and whirled, her heart racing a mile a minute.

“Adrien!” Marinette exclaimed, pressing one hand to her exploding heart and hastily hiding her Murder knife. “I-I didn’t see you there!”

“Sorry,” he said, giving her a knowing look. “Class let out early, but I saw you heading over here and doubled back to see you."

The simple honesty of the sentiment stunned her momentarily. Unlike her, Adrien had nothing to hide – he was just being friendly to someone who’d given him the chance to.

Her guilt must have shown on her face, because Adrien cocked his head to one side just then, and with a hint of wary guardedness he asked, “Um… is that okay, or were you… waiting for someone else?”

“Yes,” Marinette answered without waiting a beat. “I didn’t even think you’d be there. What are you doing here, sneaking up behind my back? Looking for your next Murder victim?”

He had the grace to look sheepish. “You caught me,” he admitted. “I, uh, don’t see them though. Do you see the person you were waiting for, or…?” She made a big show of looking around before shaking her head no.

“W-well,” Adrien stuttered, then cleared his throat. “Well, would you like to get some, um, frozen yogurt together then?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. He seemed so nice and she wouldn’t mind hanging out with Adrien at all again… after she murdered him. “Sure, and maybe we could go to the park after for a walk.”

Adrien blinked, appearing stunned that she’d accepted. Then a genuine smile broke across his face, rendering Marinette breathless.

Not good. She needed to stay focused, and maybe Murder Adrien before she hurt his feelings… if it wasn’t already too late for that.

He cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him and his stupidly cute smile. “So, um, shall we?”

Giving him her best smile, she said, “We shall.”

“咱们走吧,” Adrien repeated her statement in Chinese, cocking his head to one side.

She was too pleasantly surprised to do anything more than follow him off down the street.

At the shop, though, just as they were leaving the counter with their fro-yo, who should walk in but Chloe Bourgeois herself, instantly reminding Marinette of her pact with Alya and her ulterior motive. Marinette didn’t know if Chloe could smell Adrien a mile away or if she was Force bonded with him or something, but it took her five seconds flat to spot them sitting together.

Chloe marched over and took a seat with them, as if she’d been invited. “Adribean, what are you doing here?”

If he was annoyed at Chloe’s interruption, he didn’t show it. “I’m just hanging out with… Marinette.”

Marinette didn’t miss the pause before her name. She opened her mouth to say something, but Chloe beat her to it.

“Why would you bring her here, you never bring me here,” she said, crossing her arms and giving Marinette a once-over.

Adrien shot her an apologetic look and responded, “Chlo, I never invite you here because you’ve told me multiple times that you don’t like frozen yogurt.”

The blonde girl folded her arms over her chest. “If your calories are frozen, they’re just harder to burn later.”

Marinette hid her grin by taking a huge mouthful of froyo – quite pointedly.

Adrien noticed, and shared a knowing look with her as he agreed. “I don’t know enough about the science of calories to argue that, so it must be true.”

Marinette snorted into her yogurt. “互联网永远不会错,” she muttered, and was gratified by the reappearance of Adrien’s smike.

Chloe glared at her. “What did she say?” she demanded.

Looking between both girls, and with his own signature smike on his face, he said, "I have no idea. I haven't learned that much yet."

“Hmph.” Chloe seemed to decide to cut her losses, turning to leave. As she stalked off, she called over her shoulder, “Adribean, text me where you want to meet, hm?”

Marinette perked up in her seat, struck with an idea.

“Sure thing, Chlo,” Adrien replied, oblivious to Marinette’s eyes desperately darting up and down and around him for where he kept his phone. When he turned back toward her, she froze, fixing her eyes on him with a very innocent smile.

“Can I borrow your phone?” She blurted. “I wanna give you my number.”

Is he blushing? she wondered as he passed his device over. Shaking her head as if to rid it of the thought, she offered him a quick ‘thank you’ and went into his contacts searching for Chloe’s name. When she found it, she quickly sent the girl a meeting time and place before deleting her contact and backing out to enter her own. Finally, she shot herself a text and, as she handed the phone back to Adrien, was struck by another idea.

It took a little sleight of hand, but as his phone changed hands, Marinette tilted her arm so that the butter knife she’d hidden up her sleeve slipped forward. The dull blade touched Adrien’s thumb then slid further, landing atop his phone.

The brief clatter sounded like the proverbial penny dropping. Adrien looked down at the knife, and his brow furrowed gently. Marinette’s heart clenched in the awkward silence between them.

“Wow,” he said, trying not to sound disheartened and not quite succeeding, “That was pretty clever.”

“I’m really, really sorry,” Marinette said miserably. He had admired her, she remembered suddenly and guiltily.

“No,” Adrien said with a forced laugh, “No, it’s a game, and I… I mean, I guess I should’ve known.”

Marinette swallowed down a forming lump in her throat. “Should’ve known what?” she asked, feeling guilt over the situation.

“That you were just hanging out with me for the game,” he answered dejectedly.

As if moving with great inertia, he tipped his phone and the knife onto the table, where his cup of frozen yogurt was slowly melting into slush. Marinette watched, gut clenched with dread, as his phone screen lit up. A text message from Chloe: we never meet there O.o

Adrien’s face screwed up into a look of even deeper confusion than when he saw the knife. “Did—Did you—take my phone?”

Instead of addressing that, Marinette, the master of distraction, blurted out, “I wasn’t only interested in the game!” At Adrien’s confused look, she continued hastily, “I mean, I might have been when we met the first time, but I really do think you’re a sweet person, and I really would love to be friends, if you… if you still want to.”

Marinette watched, baffled, as a hopeful look spread across Adrien’s face.

Then, glancing back down at his phone, he asked, “Did you accidentally text Chloe, too, or did Alya put you up to that somehow?”

“No, see, we kinda sorta agreed to help each other with our targets, so I just took the opportunity.” Seeing the frown that tugged at the corner of his lips, she quickly added, “But I did really add my number! So you can text or call whenever and we could hang out together or with Alya and Nino!”

“It’s just a game,” Adrien conceded slowly, after some moments’ consideration, “and now that the game’s over for me… I may be able to help you and Alya after all.”

His expression lightened and a twinkle even appeared in his eye as he picked up his phone. He texted Chloe while Marinette texted Alya, and together they laid out the perfect trap.

Hopefully perfect, Marinette thought to herself while having last minute nerves on her way to the location Chloe agreed to meet him. The hallway was mostly deserted at this time, except for a brief moment where Kim ran across it in nothing but a towel, screaming as Alix chased him.

Marinette couldn’t help but stare after them. Had Alix been on rollerblades?

If so, she’d been going impressively fast for someone skating on carpet.

Making a mental note to compliment Alix on her skills later, she pulled out her phone. She had no new messages from Alya or Adrien, which she assumed was a good sign. Concentrating on quickly shooting off a text of her own, she almost didn’t hear Chloe’s voice coming from down the hall behind her.

“Seems like we keep running into each other today, Marinette,” Chloe said coolly, exaggerating the final ‘t’ sound with a click of the tongue that she somehow managed to make sound supercilious.

Marinette tucked her phone – with all of its incriminating text message history – safely into her back pocket before turning to face the other girl. Chloe’s arms were folded over her chest as she leaned against the wall, and somehow the sight of those perfectly manicured nails and impeccably coiffed hair irked Marinette. Perhaps these negative feelings Chloe spawned were the reason Marinette had subconsciously written off Adrien in the past. Now that she had gotten to know him, she couldn’t wrap her mind around how these two could possibly be so close.

Chloe’s eyes narrowed into a territorial glare as she said, “I’m meeting Adrien now, so don’t even try to butt in. In fact, just stay away from him forever. I don’t know how you got into your head that you have a chance at him, but let me make this very clear: Marinette Chang, you will not have your way.”

“Excuse me?” Marinette asked, astonished and infuriated at how Chloe had somehow managed to ruin a surname as simple as Cheng. “I don’t know what you think you’re getting at, but—”

“I mean that I won’t let you ever hurt him or twist him into something he’s not,” Chloe interrupted with a sneer. "Now, I have a meeting to get to, so you should scurry on back to your own room and leave us alone.”

“And who are you to speak for Adrien?” Marinette demanded. Distantly she wondered if Alya was stuck around the corner, unable to get into position, but right then she didn’t care all too much.

Unexpectedly, Chloe’s unruffled veneer cracked just a little, revealing traces of vulnerability. “I have to, because he hasn’t found how to speak up for himself yet.”

She gave Marinette a challenging look up and down before backing away with a flippant toss of her ponytail. “You wouldn’t understand, you don’t know him.”

Marinette watched her go, somehow feeling both irritated and concerned, enough to consider actually warning Chloe of the trap closing around her. Before she could do more than open her mouth, though, Chloe shrieked in terror.

Marinette strolled around the corner to find, not Alya, but Rose standing triumphantly over Chloe.

“Rose?” Marinette exclaimed, shocked at the new development. “What’re you d—”

“Girl, you did it!” Alya cheered, emerging from wherever she'd been waiting.

Sweet, demure Rose smiled at Marinette, explaining, “I got Alya in the lift on her way up, and she said the show must go on.”

Chloe, who had half-fallen backwards in her surprise, hastily pushed herself off from the wall she’d been leaning against as though she had actually been wounded by the butter knife. “Isn’t ganging up on someone against the rules?” she asked silkily. “How did you two even know I would be here?”

The door to Adrien’s room cracked open a bit further, revealing him standing just a few steps behind the girls with a sheepish look on his face.

Chloe’s face was the picture of betrayal as she whispered, “Et tu?”

“Sorry, Chlo,” Adrien said with an abashed laugh, glancing at Marinette.

Chloe whirled on Marinette, and her expression held enough unbridled hatred that Marinette actually had to take a step back just in case Chloe went crazy.

“You,” Chloe hissed, “You’re the one who did this to him—”

"Actually," Adrien interrupted, "I, uh, kind of volunteered to help her and Alya out." He looked down at his shoes a moment before he built up the courage to look his oldest friend in the eye.  "Before you get mad at anyone, I think it'd be good to remember this is just a silly game and shouldn't be taken too seriously."

“Easy for you to say,” Chloe sneered, waving a manicured hand as if to encompass all the conspirators against her, “they didn’t get you.”

“No, actually, Marinette got me,” Adrien said, looking at her intently with a level gaze and a tone that seemed a tad too modulated.

Chloe’s eyebrow quirked up and she merely said, “Ah.”

She tossed Marinette a curiously soft, knowing look. “Well, congratulations to all three of you.” She cast one confused side glance to Alya before adding, “And I don’t even know what you got out of this but whatever. Adribean, let’s get out of here.”

Marinette protested, and with a roll of her perfectly mascara’d eyes, Chloe handed her knife to Rose, whose face immediately fell at the name on its handle.

“I’m almost proud of you, beanie-baby,” Chloe said fondly as she and Adrien disappeared into an elevator.

The group watched them leave before Alya and Marinette turned to Rose.

"So, who do ya gotta kill now?" Alya asked cheerfully. When Rose showed them the name on her new knife, they understood why she was now frowning.

The name on the knife was ‘Juleka’.

Ladybug shivered in the night wind and mentally chastised herself for not suggesting a less dramatic place to meet than the rooftop, again.

Just as she was about to throw in the towel, though, she heard the roof access door creak open, and her masked partner joke, “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

He came over to where she had pressed herself flat against the wall for maximum shelter from the elements, removed his jacket, and settled it, still warm, around her shoulders, before handing her a butter knife. The swell of butterflies in her stomach after the first gesture distracted her from the second.

“What… What’s this?” she asked about the knife, a few seconds too delayed.

“Could I ask you to do something for me? One of the players forgot to give his knife to his murderer today and, well… curfew.”

“Of course,” Ladybug said, almost before Chat Noir had finished his sentence, as she stared down at the name she’d written only last weekend on the plastic knife. Then, even though she knew the answer, she asked, “Who's the murderer?”

"Her name's Marinette," he said, almost too quickly.

She quickly put the knife through her bun and said, “Well, I’ll be sure to get it to her, but I think we should go. It’s getting pretty chilly out."

Chat Noir nodded his assent but didn’t move to leave, even though she did.

“You okay?” he ventured to ask when she was halfway to the door.

Ladybug paused just long enough to deflect the question: “Just— I’ll see you at the end of the game.”

She didn’t plan to win the game. In past games, she participated for fun, then stepped down and let herself lose once the competition got close to its end. But a suspicion that wouldn’t leave Marinette alone, kept her playing.

It hadn’t been anything that he had said, really, and maybe – no, probably she’s just making it all up in her head, but Chat Noir and Adrien have the same golden hair and the same small smile and the same wealth. If there was some other boy rich enough to buy textbooks to donate as Chat Noir, Marinette hadn’t heard of him. Plus, Adrien was more than kind enough to, as Chat Noir, support Ladybug’s morale-boosting, cookie-distributing agenda. Some part of her wanted to justify her Murder of Adrien Agreste, especially if he was Chat Noir – and the only way she could think to do that was by winning.

By this time, she'd gone through several people, and was presently staring at Alix's name on her knife. She knew she'd see the girl eventually on her own, so when she did she took her opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

"Hey Alix!" she called out, waving to the other girl and walking up to her.

Alix, to her credit, only flinched away slightly. This late into the Murder game, the few remaining players all knew who one another were, and even though Marinette was amiable enough with Alix, the other girl couldn't help but be wary.

Marinette halted a strategic distance away from Alix - far enough to set her at ease, but close enough that she merely seemed to be positioning herself for an innocuous conversation.

“I just wanted to tell you, I saw you skating after Kim in the hall.”

Alix squinted, clearly needing Marinette to be more specific.

“The day he thought walking around in a towel would keep him safe?”

Alix burst into laughter. Marinette wondered how many times the other girl had skated after Kim in the hall.

“The lunkhead forgot to even drop the stupid towel,” Alix crowed through her fits of laughter.

"Oh my god, seriously?" Marinette laughed. "How do you even forget something like that?"

"I dunno man, but that had to be one of the best moments of my life," Alix responded, relaxing marginally and letting her guard drop a tiny bit. “Say, I heard you were part of the team effort to nail Chloe. Good on you!”

Alix reached forward to punch Marinette lightly on the arm – the perfect opportunity for her to strike, really, but Alix’s words had reminded her just how pyrrhic their victory had been. Guilt for Chloe, of all people, was the last thing Marinette expected to feel after their group effort to take her down. Some of it was secondhand guilt on Adrien’s behalf… Chloe was his oldest friend, after all. Even though he’d offered to help, Marinette couldn’t help feeling responsible for tossing a wrench in their friendship.

Alix saw the knife, but froze up for just long enough that Marinette managed to brush the plastic blade across Alix’s knuckles.

Alix exploded into self-directed fury immediately. “Are you KIDDING me, that must have been the lamest murder ever,” she lamented.

Marinette shot her a smike and an apologetic look. "Sorry, Alix, but if it helps any, I really did come over to compliment you. I’ve never seen someone roll across carpet as fast as you did, and I just kinda saw the opportunity to… do both?" she said, gesturing to her knife.

Alix seemed to dither for a moment between anger and letting it go. Ultimately though, her sportsmanship won out, and she merely shrugged, taking out her knife to hand it over.

“You got me fair and square,” she sighed.

Marinette made it to the end of the lines of Murder fair and square. As fair as it could be, considering she was Ladybug. The final challenge for last student left standing was a knife with Chat Noir’s name on it. (Technically it was a choice between Ladybug and Chat Noir, but considering that Marinette was Ladybug, it was hardly a choice at all.)

“Remind me why you’re still playing the game?” Tikki asked one night, after Marinette had groaned that she didn't want to kill Chat Noir.

“I don’t knowww,” Marinette complained, staring miserably at the Ladybug costume she was supposed to be putting on. “I guess I just… ugh, I think I know who he is and if I’m right then he would deserve to know who I am too, right?”

Tikki gave her a sympathetic look but didn't answer, instead grabbing Marinette's costume and holding it out to her. “You're going to be late if you don’t get ready now, Marinette, and putting it off is only going to make you more unsure about your decisions.”

Marinette smiled hesitantly. “I bet Chat Noir doesn’t have a helpful roommate to help him with all this.”

Tikki’s normally sweet smile looked smug.

She found Chat Noir at their usual meeting spot, on the roof. Ladybug crept up behind her partner and startled him with a hand at the small of his back. He made a small, startled noise and spun to face her.

“You’ve been picked this year,” Ladybug teased. “You need to be more careful if you don’t want to be Murdered.”

Chat Noir laughed as he wryly saidsaid wryly, “You’re not wrong, but she already got me once this round, so I’m not too optimistic about my chances.”

Ladybug's eyes widened a bit, but she made sure her voice sounded normal before quipping, “Hey, at least you’ve got eight more lives, yeah?”

“‘Bug, I don't know if you knew this,” he started seriously, “but I’m not actually a cat.” He anticipated the shove to his shoulder and laughed harder.

In hindsight, even she couldn’t tell you why she said it. But as his laughter slowly petered out, she waited until he was looking her in the eyes, then coyly leaned closer and murmured, “That’s too bad. I bet I could make you purr.”

For a moment, Chat’s green eyes went adorably wide and round in a series of stunned blinks. Then his lips broke into an easy smile and he brushed the comment off with a laugh, as he usually did when Ladybug said something flirty.

“There is something you could do to make me very happy….”

Was he taking up her offer for once? She wasn’t ready for this!

“...because my friend really wanted to win the game and meet Ladybug and exchange recipes.”

Ladybug deflated. "Alright," she sighed, "who's your friend?"

"Her name's Chloe Bourgeois and she's gotta be one of your biggest fans!" he exclaimed, completely unaware of the gears turning in Ladybug's mind. “She’s tried to bake cookies like yours, do makeup like yours - one time I caught her trying on polka dotted sunglasses like your costume, and she hates patterns…”

Ladybug’s eyes widened at this onslaught of images. Somehow she hadn’t imagined the rich, bratty girl consenting to be anything other than the subject of idolatry. Then her chest clenched with the realization that she had to be right. Chloe didn’t have that many close friends, despite all her “popular girl” pretenses. While Chat Noir went on about all the ways Chloe adored Ladybug, she reached into her pocket for the knife with his name on it.

“Playing the game even though you set it up?” Ladybug teased, leaning her head against Chat Noir’s shoulder and trying not to get distracted by the wispy baby hairs hiding in plain sight along his jaw. She slung her arm around his broad, broad shoulders and brushed the butter knife in that hand along his cheek, just under his mask. “You’re almost as bad as me,” Marinette whispered, and then, because the guilt of Adrien and Chloe was overwhelming, she added, “I’m really, really sorry, Adrien.”

Adrien barely heard the apology, his focus caught on the knife and the hand that had murdered him not once now, but twice. His mind tried to process it, tried to merge together his images of Marinette and Ladybug, and while that was a surprisingly easy task, thinking of all the things Ladybug said to him made his face turn red.

At the concern and guilt on her face when he turned to her, he attempted to say something comforting, but only managed to splutter out, "Y-you said you could make me purr, oh my god."

“You said you learnt Chinese so you could talk to me,” Marinette huffed, pulling slightly away from him in her embarrassment.

“I thought it would give us something in common!” Adrien exclaimed helplessly, throwing his hands up in the air.

She looked solemnly at him for a moment and said, “We have more in common than we thought, I guess.”

The atmosphere between them shifted, filled with a tension that wasn’t there before, both of them being more bashful and brazen than they dared to be before. They knew each other’s secret, and that changed everything. She had never made Chat Noir blush - except, all the times she had made Adrien blush were suddenly coming back to her.

Since when had Chat Noir’s hand wrapped around her knife hand? “Riddle me this, Ladybug,” he whispered in her ear, their cheeks mashed together. “Does Ladybug actually have a crush on Chat Noir, or is she just a flirty person? I never really figured that out.”

Her breath caught at his nearness and at the warmth of his breath on her skin. Still, she managed to respond in an equally quiet voice, "Have you ever seen me flirt with anyone else, Chat Noir? It's only ever been you."

“I could say the same for you,” he whispered, lips barely moving. The wind snagged his voice and tugged it away into the night, but she could read his meaning in his eyes.

Marinette gazed into them as she reached forward and pulled off his mask. His eyes fluttered shut as she pulled away the black fabric, holding her breath. When they opened again, it was Adrien staring back at her. Marinette let her breath go in a small, delighted sigh.

Adrien lifted a hand to her mask, but he hesitated for a moment, index finger tracing along her cheekbone. “I feel like I’m going to start acting like an idiot if I take this off,” he admitted sheepishly.

Marinette giggled. She covered his hands with her own and guided the mask from her face, breaking eye contact only when the mask got in the way. “It's just me, Adrien. Besides, I don't think there’s anything you could do that would make you seem like an idiot in my eyes,” she told him with a smile.

He shrugged and grinned in a playfully self-deprecating way. “Well, I did ask out a girl I knew was going to murder me,” he pointed out. Absently he reached forward to brush away some of the pink spirit gum she’d used to hold her mask in place.

Marinette would have fallen to pieces if Chat Noir touched her like this, but knowing it was Adrien made the graze over her skin… comforting. She smiled and leaned into the touch. “Well, she’s going to make it up to you.”

Adrien lifted a brow with the familiar, fond exasperation that Chat Noir always had with Ladybug. “I’m eager to see what she has in mind,” he breathed, as she rested her forehead against his.

“I’m sure Chloe will appreciate that baking session she wanted with Ladybug,” Marinette offered, “especially if her good friend Adrien will be there.”

"Wait, really?" he asked. She gave a slight nod, and he beamed at her. "Well then, my lady -" she blushed - "how do you think we should go about this?"

He was probably only referring to their culinary excursion, but Marinette paused to interlace their fingers. “Together,” she told him with a smile.

(And also, not on this ridiculously cold roof.)

[mr-hawkmoth]

The Sea and the Sun: Chapter 2

Fire and Bronze Bulls Should Not Be Combined ML/PJO Crossover fic

AO3

Chapter 1        chapter 2 (Here)

I formed a routine at camp. The injuries I had suffered from the various monster attacks were quickly healing allowing me to participate in more camp activities. A favorite of mine was archery. I was terrible at archery but Adrien often was the instructor on days the Hermes cabin went to the range for practice. On days when Adrien wasn’t our instructor a boy by the name of Will Solace taught us. On those days I was much less inclined to spend the vast number of hours I usually spent on the archery range. Instead I found myself befriending a girl by the name of Ashton, or as others called her- Ash. Ash was a daughter of the muses and was soon becoming one of my favorite campers despite her backwards reasoning and sarcastic disposition. My days were often filled with archery, talking to Ash, learning what I could from the Stolls, and whatever other camp activity they had scheduled. Life became normal in a way but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed as each day came and went without my godly parent, whoever they were, claiming me.

More than a week had gone by since I’d arrived to camp and still no sign as to my godly parentage. The Stoll brothers made more and more jokes about me being a daughter of Aphrodite. After my first shower at camp they acted as though they didn’t recognize me. On one occasion Travis made the remark that maybe if I put on some makeup Aphrodite would be more inclined to claim me as her daughter. At first the jokes were humors but as the days wore on without word from my godly parent the jokes began to hurt. More than ever I looked forward to my archery lessons with Adrien and when he wasn’t there I looked forward to spending time with Ash.

“Ready, aim, Fire!” Will shouted at us. Arrows sailed through the air making thudding noises as they hit their targets. All except for mine which had imbedded itself into the ground. “Marinette,” Will sighed. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” I nodded lowering my bow. The other archers continued shooting as Will came to talk to me.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. I knew I was always doing something wrong when it came to archery.

“Marinette I don’t think archery is really your thing. I think it would be better if you started exploring other camp activities,” Will spoke gently. My heart sank. No more archery meant no more Adrien and no more Ash as well.

“Oh lay off Will! Who cares if she sucks, she can spend her time where she wants,” Ash but in hand on her hip as she glared icy daggers at Will. Will raised his hands in defense.

“I just think her talents would be better used elsewhere,” Will defended. Ash rolled her eyes in response.

“Yeah well my talents would be better spent writing but a pen isn’t going to help me in battle is it? Let the girl practice what she wants, she isn’t claimed, and until she is she should learn everything and anything,” Ash informed him. Will swallowed hard before nodding and retreating to instruct the other archers. I looked towards Ash a grateful smile on my face. She offered me a smile as well. “No one here gets to mess with you got that?” She told me.

“Thanks Ash. So I know why I’m always at the archery range but why are you?” I asked as she notched another arrow. She let the arrow fly, it hit the target but it was anything but a bulls eye.

“Being daughter of the muses, I don’t really have an affinity to any one weapon unless you believe the saying that the pen is mightier than the sword.” She notched another arrow. “Believe it or not archery is the thing I suck the least at.” She released the arrow, this time it embedded itself right next to the red center of the target.

“You seem to be pretty good at it to me,” I told her. Ash laughed bitterly.

“Hardly. Most of the kids here will hit their mark every time. I’m passable, but that doesn’t help much in battle. This has also taken years of practice. You should have seen how bad I was when I first got to camp,” Ash huffed as she pulled back another arrow.

“Were you as bad as me?” I asked hopefully.

“No.” She let the arrow go. “You’re pretty bad but until we find out what you’re good at what else are you going to do.” Ash shrugged indifferently. Ash looked behind me and grimaced. “Aw crap! I’m going to kill that kid!” Ash growled.

“What is it?” I asked looking behind me. Will Solace was talking to Conner and Travis Stoll.

“That little weasel is talking to your cabin counselors about limiting your time at the archery range,” Ash explained irritably. I sighed in defeat.

“I guess this is the end of my archery days,” I said dejectedly.

“Hey Marinette! We’re going to head to the arena! Come on!” Conner called, waving me over. I looked towards Ash who was glowering at Will.

“I swear if his boyfriend didn’t have the ability to raise the dead, I would kill him,” Ash muttered.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” I asked uncertainly. The archery range was about the only time I really saw Ash.

“Screw that I’m going with you,” Ash tossed her bow to the ground.

“But aren’t you supposed to stay with your cabin?” I asked. Ash shrugged.

“Do you think I care about camp rules? Come on let’s get to the arena before all the good stuff is gone.” Ash smiled taking my hand and leading me towards the arena. Will called after her once but one look from Ash’s cold grey eyes silenced him. She beamed at me as we continued towards the arena. The Stoll brothers said nothing about Ash’s joining the cabin’s training and to that I was grateful.

As it turned out my ability to wield a sword was infinitely better than my archery ability. Not to say I was the best but I was at least able to spar with Ash without dying. While I learned faster than her Ash knew some backhanded moves. Later on she taught me a few of her dirtier moves. When I asked her if it was cheating she replied saying “Being more creative than someone isn’t cheating. If they had thought of it first you can bet your life they would have used it.” I took the words to heart looking for any advantage or opening I had in the next few skirmishes with Ash. After battling in the heat for more than an hour we finally settled down to take a break. Ash handed me a paper cup filled with water which I happily gulped down feeling much better after I did so. I watched other members of the cabin laughing lightly and poking fun at one another reminding me of what had been on my mind all day.

“Hey Ash?” I asked.

“What’s up?” She said brushing her dark brown hair slick with sweat from her face.

“Do you think that maybe I’m a child of Aphrodite?” I asked hesitantly. Ash looked at me with alarm. “The Stoll brothers think that’s who my godly parent is,” I explained letting my eyes drift to the earth beneath my feet.

“No way! Those two are idiots don’t listen to them! The Aphrodite Cabin is well… I mean don’t get me wrong there are some great people who have been children of Aphrodite! Selena was amazing! And Piper is pretty good but proportionally speaking they tend to have more rotten apples that good ones,” Ash informed me. “I don’t think you’re a child of Aphrodite.”

“Who do you think my godly parent is?” I blurted.

“Hard to say. Most of us can at least narrow it down to a mother or a father but even then there are dozens of minor gods. You survived a long time out on your own, what are you? 14?” She mused.

“15,” I clarified.

“Wow, my guess is you are from a minor god to have made it so long. But don’t take my word for it, there are things that can block monsters from sniffing you out. That’s the only reason Percy Jackson made it as long as he did before coming to camp,” Ash told me.

“Sniff out?” I raised an eyebrow quizzically at her.

“Oh yeah monsters can smell you! And the more powerful you are the stronger your scent and it only gets worse the older you get!” Ash yawned as she looked out towards the rest of the Hermes Cabin.

“How many monsters did you run into before you got to camp?” I inquired.

“Well I had to face off against two I think. But I also was traveling across the country and unlike some demigods I’m actually allowed to fly.” Ash smirked.

“Why couldn’t a demigod fly?” My eyebrows jumped into my hairline. My heart pattering against my chest for the very reason that I myself was unable to fly to New York.

“Oh it all depends on your godly parents relationship to Zeus, god of the sky and all that. See the Muses were daughters of Zeus so I’m allowed to fly because he likes my mom. But other kids like children of Hades or Poseidon for example probably shouldn’t fly- ever! It also depends on how Zeus is feeling that day sometimes the guy can be a real dick,” Ash answered nonchalantly.

“And two monsters that was- that’s normal?” I squeaked. Ash seemed to notice my distress.

“Well yeah when the journey only takes you six or eight hours two doesn’t seem like much but relax. Didn’t you have to travel here from Europe or something?” Ash waited for me to answer.

“France,” I whispered.

“Yeah and you took a boat right so I mean that’s going to take a lot longer than a quick plane ride. I wouldn’t be surprised if you faced off against a handful of monsters before you got here,” Ash comforted me. I nodded chewing on my lip unsure on what number of monsters would qualify me as ‘normal’. “France huh? I think I have an idea,” Ash smiled coyly at me. I quirked my eyebrow up at her. “I happen to know a camper here from France who is still fluent in the language. I’m sure he would be more than happy to talk to you in your native tongue and make you feel more at home,” Ash cooed.

“Doesn’t everyone in the Aphrodite cabin speak French?” I noted.

“I’m not counting them. They only speak French thanks to their mom,” Ash waved them off. I gave her a confused look. “But I happen to know that a certain Apollo boy speaks perfect French.” Ash waggled her eyebrows at me. My cheeks burned as my eyes widened.

“He- he does!?” I squeaked. I couldn’t recall hearing much an accent in his voice.

“Sure he does! But he hasn’t been able to speak much French since he got to camp unless he wanted to talk to the Aphrodite cabin and believe me Chloe pretty much ruined that experience for him,” Ash explained. A goofy smile spread across my face. Maybe I wouldn’t need to continue my archery lessons to see Adrien after all.

Ash stuck with the Hermes cabin for the remainder of the day even going so far as to join our cabin for dinner which judging by the looks we were receiving was a big no no.

“Ash,” Chiron sighed. “Can you please sit at your own table,” He said tiredly as if this was an argument he had had one too many times.

“Excuse me? Is there anything wrong with enjoying a meal with my friend? It’s a stupid rule that forces us to eat with our own cabins,” Ash countered.

“Ashton,” Chiron warned.

“Besides- the muses are teaming up with the Hermes cabin for capture the flag tomorrow! We have to run through strategy,” Ash excused. Chiron sighed rubbing his temples with one hand.

“Very well Ashton but please remember to plan better in the future,” Chiron gave in. Ash saluted him before he clopped away.

“Capture the flag?” I asked turning towards Ash who was practically hanging off the bench of our overly cramped table.

“Oh man! We forgot to explain capture the flag to Mari!” Conner Stoll exclaimed.

“It’s only the best camp game there is!” Travis joined in.

“The Stoll boys are right. It’s one of the better ones,” Ash added.

“Basically the cabins split off into teams,” Conner explained.

“And we each have to hide a flag,” Travis continued.

“And the whole goal of the game is to steal the other teams flag.” Ash smirked.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” I said nervously.

“Oh but it gets better!!” Conner said excitedly.

“Unlike how mortals play capture the flag we get weapons!” Travis said practically bouncing off his seat.

“Weapons?” I squeaked.

“Don’t worry you’ll have armor on too,” Ash said reassuringly.

“Don’t worry no one dies…. normally,” Conner chuckled darkly.

“Yeah just use your Charm speak and no one will touch you,” Travis offered. Ash reached across the table to slap Travis upside the head.

“Would you stop telling her that! She is not a child of Aphrodite!” Ash scoffed.

“Are you guys talking about the game tomorrow?” Adrien asked squeezing in next to the Stoll brothers across from me. My face was already starting to burn.

“Yes we are!” Ash smiled wide giving me a mischievous sidelong glance.

“Well Apollo doesn’t have any alliances for tomorrow’s game,” Adrien offered.

“Dude! We totally need to get will on board!” Travis said excitedly.

“If we get the Apollo cabin Clarisse won’t stand a chance!” Conner said excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Travis exclaimed. The two brothers jumped up from the bench and ran towards the Apollo table.

“Say if you join our team we should probably come up with a plan. Especially since Marinette here hasn’t played before.” Ash looked towards Adrien. Adrien’s eyes widened.

“That’s right we haven’t had a match since you got here Marinette! Don’t worry you can stay with me and I’ll show you how it’s played,” Adrien beamed. My cheeks were already burning.

“D’accord!” (Okay) I squeaked. Adrien looked alarmed before a wide smile spread across his face.

“Tu parle français!” (You speak French) Adrien shouted excitedly.

“Toute ma vie,” (All my life) I whispered shyly. Ash smiled at the two of us despite the fact that she looked completely lost.

“Yup Marinette here speaks French! Couldn’t you tell from the accent?” Ash raised her eyebrow at Adrien who looked down at the table sheepishly.

“I uh didn’t want to bother her with too many questions when she came in to the infirmary,” Adrien explained.

“Well now that we have established that you two nerds both speak French I’ll leave you to it while I go see how the Stoll brothers are doing with Will,” Ash said as she stood.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I giggled.

“What? I just want to have a chat with Will. I’m not going to do anything to him,” Ash feigned innocence.

“Ash,” I laughed.

“I’m not going to hit him that hard Mari, don’t worry,” Ash assured me before rushing off. Adrien turned back to me brows knit together.

“Did Will do something?” he asked. I shook my head avoiding his eyes.

“No, not really. Ash just doesn’t really have an affinity for following the rules,” I explained as I nervously rubbed my sweaty hands off on my jeans.

“Are you okay?” Adrien frowned. My head snapped to attention.

“Y-yeah! I’m just uh- I’m uh nervous for tomorrow’s game.” It wasn’t a total lie. I definitely was nervous about capture the flag but talking to Adrien made me a bit more nervous.

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you. We can hide in the trees the whole night if you want.” Adrien smiled so warmly at me that I couldn’t help but smile back. Why did he have to be cute and sweet. It just wasn’t fair.

“Ash this is why I don’t like you sitting at other tables. Now the entire pavilion is-“ Before Chiron could finish scolding Ash a loud boom sounded overhead. Every camper in the pavilion instantly jumped to their feet. The room was completely silent. Another loud crash sounded followed by an orange glowing light in the distance. The pavilion instantly broke out into shouts. Everyone began running. Cabin counselors and Chiron were shouting orders to the other campers. Everyone scrambled off in all different directions. I looked towards Adrien fear and confusion twisting my face. Adrien gave me a light smile before taking my hand and leading me in the direction of the other campers.

“What’s going on?” I shouted.

“Camp’s under attack!” Adrien called back to me.

“But I thought this was a safe place!” My throat felt tight.

“It is! But that doesn’t mean the occasional monster doesn’t try to attack it!” Adrien explained. Adrien led me to the armory. Campers were quickly strapping armor to themselves and grabbing weapons. Adrien dropped my hand as he dug through the gear. He tossed me a breastplate and helmet before finding armor for himself and quickly throwing it on. I put on the breastplate and helmet before fumbling with the straps of my armor. Adrien snickered before coming to my aid. Adrien scooped a bow and arrow from the pile he looked towards me and nodded towards the weapons. I picked up a sword that seemed a bit too heavy but before I could decide on another weapon another boom sounded from outside. I followed Adrien out of the armory and towards the chaos.

Beyond the golden fleece were two bronze bulls charging the magical forcefield around the camp again and again. The bulls breathed fire as they bellowed angrily.

“The Khalkotauroi,” Chiron said darkly.

“Again!! Are you kidding me? Sometimes I really hate Hephaestus,” A girl by the name of Clarisse growled.

Many of the the campers stood behind the forcefield throwing spears and shooting arrows at the beasts. The weapons bounced harmlessly off their bodies. Although the bulls couldn’t get into the camp it could cause a problem if they burned everything outside of camp or worse killed any campers trying to get in or out of camp and the two bulls seemed determined. If the bulls got close enough to the field some of the campers with spears and swords would try to hit the bulls but their efforts were in vain. Fire burned just beyond the camp line. Patches of grass were charred to nothing and some still burned. Clarisse a girl who i had only heard stories about as the cabin counselor to the Ares cabin charged out of the forcefield. The girl screamed as she drove her spear into a chink in the Bull One’s side. The bull did not seem to like this. Smoke rose from his nostrils as he bucked Clarisse from the grip she had on her spear. Clarisse went flying landing hard on the ground and rolling several feet before pulling herself back to her feet. The bull opening it’s mouth. Clarisse barely rolled out of the way in time to miss the flames. What Clarisse couldn’t see was that she had put herself into the path of the other bull. So focused on Bull One she didn’t notice Bull Two preparing to strike. Without thinking I ran towards her past the camp line.

“Marinette!” Adrien shouted after me. I didn’t look back. I ran for Clarisse knocking her out of the way just in time. I could feel the heat of the Bull’s flames on my back but thankfully we were both unharmed.

“What do you think you’re doing twerp!” Clarisse spat as she shoved me off of her.

“I uh- you were…” My words died in my throat as I saw Bull One preparing to charge us again.

I jumped to my feet moving Clarisse out of the way once more. The bull ran towards me . my eyes scanned it for anything I could use. The chinks in it’s armor were my only safe bet. The bull got closer and at the last second I leapt out of the way. As the bull ran past me I stabbed my blade in a chink in it’s armored neck. Unfortunately for me my sword stuck. The bull began dragging me along beside it. Panic is the word I would use to describe what it is like to be drug through burning grass by a crazed fire breathing bronze bull. Fire streamed from his mouth but with me attached to his neck it had little effect. As the bull slowed some in order to turn and begin running again I placed my other hand on the bulls horn and swung myself atop its back. Squeezing my legs around the bull’s hot metal body I gripped my sword preparing for the bull’s reaction. As expected the bull began bucking wildly spewing flames in every direction. I squeezed my eyes shut as I clung to the brazen bull. Once the worst of it was over I peaked open one eye to see that we were now running in circles. Clarisse was now facing off against Bull Two. She had acquired another spear, probably from another camper, and was now facing off against the bull ducking a dodging charges, and flames.

I sat up on my bull and pulled on my sword in an attempt to remove it from the bull’s neck. Something strange happened in response to my tugging. As I pulled back on the sword the bull reeled back before coming to a complete stop. I smiled to myself before wrenching the blade to the right. The bull began to trot towards the right picking up speed as it did so. I looked towards Clarisse and Bull Two an idea striking me. I pulled back on my sword bringing the bull to a stop before turning it around. With a shove forward the bull began to run towards them. Closer and closer until….

“Clarisse look out!!” I screamed. Clarisse glanced back before leaping out of the way. Bull Two opened it’s mouth spewing flames as it raced towards me and Bull One. I screamed as I let go of the sword’s hilt and dove off the bull. The two bulls continued to charge forwards their view both blocked by the fire until they crashed into one another in a bust of fire and metal. Bronze parts began raining down on me. I coughed as I looked through the smokey haze feeling rather lightheaded now. I could hear screams and shouts, some of shock, some of joy, and some of concern. I let my body sink back down onto the grass with a groan. Campers began rushing into the clearing smoke. In the next moment that I opened my eyes Ash and Adrien were crouching over me.

“Holy cow!!! That was amazing Mari!” Ash congratulated.

“Marinette? Are you alright?” Adrien asked worried, his eyes surveying my body for injuries. I smiled reassuringly at them as my eyes slid shut.

“She passes out more than Jason Grace,” Someone laughed as my world faded to black.

[thisdaynews]

How Buttigieg's childhood pal ended up managing 2020's breakout campaign

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/how-buttigiegs-childhood-pal-ended-up-managing-2020s-breakout-campaign/

How Buttigieg's childhood pal ended up managing 2020's breakout campaign

Mike Schmuhl, the Buttigieg campaign manager, has never worked for a candidate outside Indiana. | Lyndon French/POLITICO

Before the Democratic presidential debate in Columbus, Ohio, Mike Schmuhl ventured into the city to get his mop of red hair cut. It wasn’t so much that Schmuhl needed a trim — but Pete Buttigieg’s campaign manager wanted to make sure the barbershop was up to the task of a presidential shave.

Thirty minutes later, after the Royal Rhino Club Barbershop & Lounge passed muster and Schmuhl made an appointment under the name “Max Harris,” another aide who got his hair trimmed, Buttigieg appeared for a fresh predebate cut.

It’s not the type of assignment you’d normally associate with the most prestigious job in politics.

But Schmuhl — an even-keeled, attention-deflecting 36-year-old prone to telling staffers up and down the org chart that they have “the most critical” job on the campaign — has taken an unconventional path into presidential campaign management. Schmuhl has never staffed a statewide or national political run, unlike most other presidential campaign managers. The biggest campaign he managed before taking charge of Buttigieg’s presidential bid is a House race. In fact, he’s never before worked for a candidate outside Indiana. When he briefly lived in Washington, D.C., he worked at The Washington Post, not on Capitol Hill. He’s not on Twitter.

“I’ve worked for Pete, for Joe Donnelly, for Mel Hall, for Shelli Yoder,” Schmuhl said, rattling off the names of Indiana congressional candidates. “It just so happens that one of them is running for president, and honestly, if one of them wasn’t, I wouldn’t be doing this. And it just so happens the one I know the best, the one I’ve known for the longest time, is the one who is running.”

That is Schmuhl’s greatest qualification for shepherding the $50 million startup that is this long shot-turned-frontrunning campaign: He’s the Buttigieg whisperer — the childhood friend who has one of the biggest jobs in the 2020 primary. Schmuhl’s résumé is modest for his position — something he shares with his boss, who’s running for president at 37.

Schmuhl, who managed Buttigieg’s 2011 South Bend, Ind., mayoral run and became his first chief of staff, and Buttigieg, who is deeply involved in his own political strategy, share a shorthand that aides and former staffers likened to a secret language — a depth of trust that you only “have with somebody you’ve known for so long,” Buttigieg said in an interview.

Occasionally, Buttigieg and Schmuhl will literally communicate in another language, dipping seamlessly into French when they want to speak privately in a car packed with other people.

Schmuhl, Buttigieg continued, “shares a lot of my instincts, but can also press or nudge me when I’m kind of veering off where I need to be. … He uniquely understands both my story and my city’s story, and those two things are so important to each other and they’re so important to this campaign.”

Trust with the candidate is “the most important part of the job” of campaign manager, but another “important part is being the truth-teller,” said Jim Messina, who managed President Barack Obama’s 2012 campaign. But “that’s the challenge with friends. Are they able to have those tough conversations?”

‘Some catching up to do’

Schmuhl isn’t a familiar face on the national political scene, but at a union hall in South Bend on a chilly fall night, everyone knows him. Schmuhl cataloged nearly all of the people attending a vote for the St. Joseph County Democratic Party chairman: a state representative here, a city councilman in that corner, former Sen. Joe Donnelly’s wife over there, the former fire chief stopping by for a hug.

“This is a good test for me,” Schmuhl joked.

It’s been a year of tests. Buttigieg rocketed into the group of contenders for the Democratic nomination earlier this year thanks to a flair for composed answers with a knack for going viral to interviewers’ questions, among other raw political talents. Whatever his flaws, which rival candidates are now litigating daily on the campaign trail, Buttigieg was ready to seize the opportunity. That left Schmuhl scrambling to keep up with his friend, as the campaign rapidly multiplied in size and attracted scrutiny.

In a few months, Buttigieg’s email list grew from 24,000 people to over 1 million, the campaign headquarters expanded from one room with donated furniture and WiFi hotspots to 60 offices throughout the country, and the payroll has grown to over 500 staffers from just a handful in January.

But the process has not been one smooth upward line, and some of the missteps along the way exposed the campaign’s inexperience, starting with Buttigieg and Schmuhl.

Buttigieg, who has struggled to gain traction among African American voters, was painfully slow to get organized in South Carolina — an early problem that has become a recurring negative theme on the trail. His campaign later stumbled over releasing a list of disputed endorsements of Buttigieg’s Douglass Plan, a policy proposal that targets systemic racism, and the use of a stock image of a Kenyan woman.

In October, the campaign cut ties with donor Steve Patton, a Chicago lawyer who tried to block the release of footage of the 2014 police shooting of Laquan McDonald, sparking a warning from David Axelrod, Obama’s former chief campaign strategist, to “hire one more” staffer and “put them on vetting.” 

“There were some glaring missteps by the campaign, especially as it relates to the most reliable voting bloc in the Democratic primary,” said J.A. Moore, a South Carolina state representative. “Our politics in South Carolina is all about relationships, and they are new.”

Schmuhl acknowledged that it’s “fair to say we had some catching up to do.” But, he said, “we literally came from almost nothing to where we are now, so it just took a little bit of a lag time getting there.”

It became clear by June — after Buttigieg blew past senators and governors in fundraising and early polling — that Schmuhl had too much on his plate. He had nearly 20 people reporting directly to him, and “that was unsustainable,” he said.

Schmuhl brought on reinforcements, building a campaign staff, 40 percent of whom are people of color, and filling out the senior team with seasoned hands with far thicker résumés than his own, including Larry Grisolano, a messaging consultant who worked on Obama’s presidential runs; Jess O’Connell, former CEO of the Democratic National Committee; Brandon Neal, former DNC political director; Hari Sevugan, another Obama alumnus and an experienced Democratic strategist; and Michael Halle, who played a key role in Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign and managed Democrats’ gubernatorial campaign in Ohio in 2018.

“The folks [Schmuhl] brought in, clearly more experienced than him, clearly very smart, talented people, but he’s confident enough to bring them in,” said Jeff Link, an Iowa-based Democratic consultant who’s unaffiliated in the primary. “He’s not trying to keep out smart people who might challenge him.”

Schmuhl freely admits to the imbalance. “The two folks on the campaign who don’t have modern presidential campaign experience are me and Pete,” he said. “I’m pretty up front with people about what I don’t know.”

On David Plouffe’s podcast, “Campaign HQ,” Schmuhl talked to Obama’s former campaign manager about mitigating that experience shortage by bringing “together people who can specialize in their areas so you don’t have to.”

‘The guy knows how to keep you on edge’

Schmuhl isn’t outside the norm as a longtime loyalist managing a 2020 presidential campaign. Roger Lau has been in Elizabeth Warren’s orbit for nearly a decade, helping steer her to victory in both of her Senate races. Greg Schultz served as Joe Biden’s senior political adviser during his second term as vice president. Justin Buoen took his first job on Amy Klobuchar’s first Senate campaign in 2006, sticking with her ever since.

But Schmuhl and Buttigieg’s relationship stretches back much further than most.

They first met when Schmuhl was in eighth grade: Buttigieg, then a ninth grader, led him on a tour of St. Joseph High School in South Bend. Their fathers both taught at the University of Notre Dame and knew each other, but the boys hadn’t met until Buttigieg helped Schmuhl learn where the cafeteria was. They were both only children, “short, pudgy, shy and bookish,” in Schmuhl’s retelling.

The pair took different paths and stayed in infrequent contact after becoming friends in high school. While Buttigieg left for Harvard University, Schmuhl stayed close to home at Notre Dame before spending three years as a producer and a booker at The Washington Post. But Schmuhl, drawn to political work, got his résumé to then-Rep. Joe Donnelly and returned to South Bend as a field representative in the congressman’s office.

Then in 2010, Donnelly, a Blue Dog Democrat in a red district who voted for Obamacare, faced the prospect of losing reelection. But Donnelly picked Schmuhl, who had never worked on any campaign before, to manage his race because, Donnelly said, he “doesn’t worry about who gets the credit, just the getting it done.” Joel Elliott, Donnelly’s former chief of staff, assigned it to Schmuhl’s “preternaturally calm” disposition.

Donnelly scraped together a narrow 2010 victory. Buttigieg, who ran for Indiana state treasurer, got crushed in the general election. But Buttigieg and Schmuhl kept running into each other on the trail, and in the “aftermath of both races, we started talking about what’s next,” Schmuhl said.

What happened next runs parallel in some ways to the 2020 presidential primary, said Dan Parker, a former Indiana Democratic Party chairman. Buttigieg, then 29, cut through a crowded primary of familiar party leaders to become mayor of South Bend, running an upstart campaign based on the themes of economic revitalization and generational change. And Schmuhl managed it.

“The more I think about it, the more the 2011 primary race for mayor mirrors the kind of campaign they’re running for president right now — a newcomer with an optimistic tone,” Parker said.

Schmuhl became Buttigieg’s chief of staff and did a brief stint as the district Democratic Party chairman, but he left after 1½ years to go to graduate school in Paris. His going-away gift from Buttigieg was a “hand of the king” pin from “Game of Thrones,” which now sits on Schmuhl’s desk in South Bend. “I don’t exactly wear it around,” Schmuhl said, flashing the badge, a symbol of the second in command in the show.

One day while Schmuhl was in France Buttigieg dropped the news that he was gay over Skype. Thinking back on it, Schmuhl, one of the first people Buttigieg told, said he wasn’t “crazy surprised.” He’d always just assumed Buttigieg “didn’t really have time to date or anything — I thought about it that way.” The conversation turned quickly to how Buttigieg would make his sexual orientation public in Indiana.

Schmuhl observed that when Buttigieg drops big news on him, it usually starts out casually.

“‘Hey man, I’m thinking of running for mayor.’ ‘Hey man, I’m going to Afghanistan.’ ‘Hey man, I’m gay.’ ‘Hey man, I want to be DNC chairman.’ ‘Hey man, I think I might run for president,’” Schmuhl said.

“The guy knows how to keep you on edge.”

Building a long-shot campaign

By the fall of 2018, after a few years at the Democratic consulting firm 270 Strategies, Schmuhl returned to South Bend again, this time to lay groundwork for Buttigieg’s presidential campaign alongside Lis Smith, who started serving as a senior adviser to Buttigieg when he ran for Democratic National Committee chairman in 2017.

Smith — a fierce New York-based Democratic operative — admitted that she “didn’t know exactly what to make of [Schmuhl] when we first met because our styles are so different and he likes to sit back and observe,” she said, describing her and Schmuhl as a yin and yang-like force. “We probably had tense moments, but I can count them on two fingers.”

“It’s a little offcast for people who would traditionally run presidential campaigns,” said Jeremy Bird, who served as the Obama reelection campaign’s national field director and hired Schmuhl to work at 270 Strategies, his consulting firm, in 2015. “In a political world where people are often focused on chest bumping, hyperbole and being louder to be heard, Schmuhl is not that. He listens.”

Schmuhl and Smith hashed out Buttigieg’s strategy over beers at the Rusty Knot, a bar in New York’s West Village, and over board games in Buttigieg’s living room in South Bend. “It was hardly a cast of thousands around a big conference room table,” Smith said, calling the early days of the Buttigieg campaign “a pipe dream and a bit fantastical.”

But Buttigieg soon outgrew the small beginnings of his campaign. Sitting in the green room backstage after a mid-March CNN town hall, Schmuhl was approached by a producer with an iPad who said, “I want you to look at something.” The screen showed online engagement during the three-hour broadcast, which featured Rep. Tulsi Gabbard, former Rep. John Delaney and Buttigieg.

“It’s two hours of a completely flat line, and the final 45 minutes, it’s just this —” Schmuhl swept his hand steeply upward. “That was the first kind of inkling something was up.”

While Buttigieg’s fundraising and his attention from voters and the media rose rapidly in the spring, the campaign’s infrastructure was slower to grow in the early states. “It still didn’t seem real then,” said Grant Woodard, a longtime Democratic operative in Iowa, describing some “staff types who thumbed their nose at Buttigieg’s campaign” as it was trying to expand.

A lot of that fell on Schmuhl’s plate, as he sought to build on-the-ground infrastructure and a senior leadership team. “When you throw 450 people into a project in a tight amount of time, it’s a lot of people, it’s a lot of personalities,” said Schmuhl, who admitted to only getting “hot” three times during the presidential race, though he declined to explain further. “There’s going to be quirks.”

Over the summer, when the mayor began to sink in national polling after his early splash, Buttigieg’s top staffers were at odds over coordination between the campaign’s two main offices in South Bend and Chicago. The group was “intractably split over what to do,” said one senior Buttigieg official. “But we were not working well not being in the same place.”

Schmuhl took in the arguments and made the decision: Everything would be in South Bend. Staffers moved soon after.

Buttigieg staffers said Schmuhl is tasked with the hard conversations, often “riding in the car alone with Pete before big events, before debates,” Smith said. “If there’s something that Pete needs to hear, and just one person alone, Mike’s the designated person.”

As Buttigieg faces more heat and pressure, there will be more of those moments. At last week’s Democratic debate, Amy Klobuchar skewered Buttigieg’s experience, questioning whether a candidate who couldn’t win his state could lead the Democratic ticket against President Donald Trump.

But Schmuhl is aware that anytime someone questions Buttigieg’s experience, the same question applies to him: In the most consequential Democratic primary in recent history, was he prepared to handle the job?

For all the times he’s heard the question, asked or implied, he still struggles with an answer.

“I think that Pete is —” Schmuhl said, breaking off and tearing up over ramen at the Crooked Ewe, a brewery on the banks of the St. Joseph River.

“Pete is somebody who makes people around him better,” Schmuhl went on. “He’s the kind of MVP who makes the whole team better. He makes me better.

“I’ve completely realized that I’m not a traditional campaign manager, and I think the things I’ve done in my life and how well I know Pete, I think we’re a good team and we’re a good package,” Schmuhl continued.

Still, when asked for a moment when he and Buttigieg disagreed — a moment when a friend who also happens to be your campaign manager could deliver a much-needed hard truth — Schmuhl blew out his cheeks and thought for 30 seconds. He declined to share those thoughts.

“I don’t know,” Schmuhl said.

Buttigieg, for his part, reached into a past campaign and described a moment in his 2011 mayoral race when his friend sat him down and said, “I need to know if you want to win this.” Skimping on additional details or conflict, Buttigieg said he and Schmuhl “needed to sharpen a lot of things in the campaign, and we did.”

“And we won.”

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[arabellaflynn]

My response to extended periods of stress is to distract myself by cramming new things into my head. I had a terrible semester at college once and front-loaded the entirety of the sci.electronics.repair FAQ into my brain. It wasn't useful at the time, but I can repair the shit out of a VCR now, so I assume I'll use it someday. I am so overloaded I am about to claw my own face off, so naturally I am teaching myself Hebrew. I've been using Duolingo to do it, which is frankly a very bad idea. (I should really be using Ha'Ulpan, which is where you'd typically go for a crash course in Hebrew before emigrating to Israel, but that costs money, so no.) Duolingo is billed as a way to teach yourself a language, which it is not. It is a way to memorize a bunch of interactive flashcards. This might be effective for people who don't care how language works -- which is most people -- but it's awful for people like me, who hang all of their memorization off of a framework of base patterns. Duolingo explains nothing. The "lessons":

Do not teach the alphabet. Hebrew is written in this sort of half-assed abjad, where most but not all vowels are not marked in non-teaching texts, and some but not most unmarked vowels are actually represented by a placeholder Alef. 'Aba' is father and 'ima' is mother, but they are both written Alef-something else-Alef. Look at that and imagine how the vowel change looks totally mental to someone who spells things in a full alphabet. Alef comes out looking like it says about six different things, one of which is nothing.

Do not explain the orthography. There are several pairs of letters in Hebrew that do, or at least can, say the same thing. Tet and Tav both say /t/; Kaf and Qof both say /k/; Yod and Ayin are both sort of /j/ and sort of not; Vav and Bet can both say /v/, although both also have other readings; Samekh is /s/ and Shin can be read that way as well. Some other apparent character pairs are actually the same letter that has a 'sofit' form when it comes at the end of the word, which on the Hebrew keyboard is a different key (as opposed to the Arabic IME, which auto-corrects to the final form when it kerns all the cursive joining). I still have no idea if there is a rule behind Tet vs Tav; Yod vs Ayin and Kaf vs Qof are almost certainly because they once represented different sounds (Yaa vs 'Ayin and Kaa vs Qaf are still separated in Arabic), but I don't have enough context to guess which is likely to be which in Modern Hebrew.

Do not consistently read new vocabulary words out loud. If you're not going to explain the letters to me, the least you can do is read me the word so I can figure it out myself. Of course, it also never explicitly mentions that you read all this right-to-left, which seems like an important note to give when you're using a left-to-right language for instruction. You would think it would be obvious when everything is right-justified, but this is the kind of stuff you shouldn't take for granted when building beginning lessons in anything.

Do not use any nekkudot. A nikkud ("point") is a diacritical mark, mainly underneath the consonant but occasionally beside, inside, or above it, that explicitly indicates ('dagesh') a pronunciation change or ('nikkud') an unwritten vowel. This is how you teach people to read Hebrew, in Hebrew. You use it for small children. Or, if you have any sense, novice adult learners.

Do not explain any grammar. There is no explanation of why "you" is sometimes 'at' and sometimes 'atah'. No explanation of why sometimes the present-tense verb has an '-et' on the end and sometimes doesn't, even when the subject is 'ani' in both cases. (Answer: Hebrew inflects according to gender of both subject and speaker, which seems like a thing that should be noted for anglophones.) You are left to guess at wtf to do with prepositions and particles like Ha, V', Be, Le, and others. 

Do not consistently account for the direction switch of Hebrew input. Firstly, there's no warning that the thing expects you to type in Hebrew; I installed a Hebrew keyboard before I started, but I also have six other keyboard layouts on the phone, because I'm me. If it wants you to type a full sentence, it can get the text running consistently right to left, but there are exercises that want you to fill in just one word, and that breaks it horribly. The words run right-to-left as intended, but they are arranged left-to-right in English order.

Do not listen to its own internal dictionary of synonyms. I have run into this in other languages and it drives me crazy. There are exercises where it asks you to translate a sentence in the target language into English. If you tap 'derech', Duolingo tells you it means a way, a path, or a road. Translating 'derech' as anything other than "way" in the English sentence gets you marked off. If there is some reason why 'Ha'yeled roah derech' could not mean "The boy sees a road" isolated from context, Duolingo does not give it.

I am already cheating by being a linguist who has some idea of how Semitic languages work. My one attempt at an Arabic class was a disaster for non-Arabic-related reasons, but I do know basic things like the idea behind an abjad, handling regular transformations of letter shapes at the end of a word, and how words are constructed by adding vowels/prefixes/suffixes to a triconsonantal root. These would be completely alien to most English speakers. There is a systemic way to accomplish transformations like the one from "(male) child" ('yeled') to "(female) child" ('yaldah') or "children" ('yeldim'), or from the noun "food" ('okel') to the verb for "to eat" ('le'kol'), but it is never actually pointed out.

I also have a living resource who grew up speaking Hebrew and enjoys teaching people things, usually at great length. I can ask the Eccentric all the weird stuff and he'll give me a long, detailed answer, fully 60% of which will have something to do with the original question. Technical grammar questions can be Googled to good effect, but the answers to cultural questions are, at best, unreliable. (Example: "Does Modern Hebrew have regional accents?" Google answer: "Modern Hebrew is very young and spoken in a contained geographic area. While there are some tiny variations in pronunciation and vocabulary, these are so slight it is unlikely a non-native speaker would ever notice them." Answer from actual Israeli person: "Absolutely, remind me next time I see you and I'll do imitations, some of them are hilarious.") [The question of accents is especially pertinent; I am never comfortable in a language until I sound like myself, and since I don't sound like a textbook all the time, this usually means picking a dialect to drop into. My informal Japanese tends to stay Tokyo-standard in grammar but in tone is rather bokukko, for instance. It's marked in speech (although often the actual pronoun boku is used in internet Japanese by female blog authors who don't want to be explicitly female in text), but I am clearly a non-native speaker, and I feel it conveys a proper warning that I am not going to do well by Japanese standards of femininity. There are a few potential accents I could wind up with in Hebrew. American is fairly far down on the list; I'm usually pretty good at not sounding like a Yank. The letter Resh is most universally difficult for non-native speakers. I could probably use the French or German R and be understood (both voiced uvular fricative /ʁ/, the French one higher and more nasalized), but the Resh as given in the only explicit explanation I've found is actually supposed to be a uvular trill /ʀ/, which occurs more towards the hard palate than either of those, and with a rounder sounding chamber behind it. It comes so far forward that it is the closest thing I have ever seen to the theoretically-impossible velar trill. Wikipedia says this is an Ashkenazim thing, which explains why you hear it so much in Yiddish. I would definitely be understood if I used the Arabic alveolar trill /r/, which is noted as a variation common among the Sephardim, but it's also associated with Arabic-speaking refugees, and I feel like that might not be the accent I want if I'm going to be practicing this on Israeli friends. I've no idea which one the Eccentric uses; I gather he has one parent from either tradition and they lived in Jerusalem, so who the fuck knows. It's impossible to pick up from his English. He's made no effort to zero out his accent, but he has had three decades to nail the English retroflex alveolar approximant /ɻ/, and more or less does. Chet is voiced /χ/, and undotted-Khaf is unvoiced /x/, both of which I have.]

An irksome aspect of learning Hebrew is the transliteration system. There isn't one. You notice that my Japanese is italicized and the attempts at Hebrew are in single quotes? This is because the Japanese is brought straight across using a standard Japanese-to-Latin alphabet system used in some textbooks and on the internet. (There are other, more precise systems, but they involve diacritical marks that can't be typed on a pure-ASCII keyboard.) The Hebrew is... uh, approximate. There is no way to unambiguously transcribe Hebrew text in Latin letters that is immediately readable to people whose languages use the Latin alphabet. Duolingo doesn't even try. I type things using the Hebrew IME whenever possible, because I'm trying to learn to spell, but when the Eccentric explains things to me he does it with the regular QWERTY keyboard. It has quirks. Words whose transliteration ends in '-ah', as in the new year's greeting 'shanah tovah', are words that end in He, a letter which normally says /h/ but when word-final represents /a:/ for grammatical reasons. He also consistently writes his Vav as "U'" when it's used as a conjunction, even though it's pronounced /v/. My guess is that this is how it is taught in Israeli schools. There seems to be a system behind it, but it does not make sense unless you also read the original Hebrew.

This is all somehow working anyway, probably because I'm me. I made it to Day 18 of my first ever stab at learning Hebrew before I started scaring up podcasts. It only took me that long because I had to figure out how to search for the word for "Hebrew (language)" in Hebrew, because searching in transliteration gets you nothing. Day 20 I picked up a series of linguistic interviews put out by Leshoniada (לשוניאדה, a word which gave Google Translate shitfits, but which the Eccentric informs me is a portmanteau that comes out something like "Grammar-lympics"). The details escape me completely, because I lack vocabulary, but because Hebrew has a very regular stress pattern (word-final, almost always) individual terms are easy to pick out. Between that and a lot of straight-up imports from Greek, the topic of the first episode was easy to get.

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