#I most sincerely hope this is good vivisection

[waywardstraysau]

Stalker, Part 2

By: Mod Nightmare

Zim is reprogrammed, and runs

DT listens to the Ex-Invader, then brings Zim back

Dib has his therapy sessions doubled, because suggesting vivisection for the Irken was disturbing enough to warrant that. 

All in all, things worked out, though DT now has an added responsibility of keeping a pair of volatile mortal enemies from killing each other. 

Thank Buddha for magic

The reprogramming plan Hunter pushed for did not end well. 

Like, “Zim broke out and is now god knows where out in the woods” kind of not ending well. 

Hunter had chased after the irken, but unfortunately lost track of the little green boy the moment he’d crossed over the treeline. 

That didn’t stop the witch from continuing to search.

He recognized the look on the recently freed boy.

And he was a boy, not much older than Dib, according to Krel’s estimations regarding his mental maturity. The Akiridon wanted nothing to do with the admittedly bold plan, but he did lend assistance despite his clear discomfort, and Hunter respected him for it. 

Though he felt bad knowing the poor guy was probably losing his shit back on campus, knowing a dangerous intergalactic criminal was on the loose.

All the more reason to find Zim quickly 

Hunter crouched down and shifted into his wolf form, sniffing the ground in hopes of finding a trail. If his experiences with Krel were to be considered, otherworldly beings had a sharply contrasting scent with those of earths natural ecosystem. The violette sincerely hoped the same was true of the irken, for if it wasn’t, he’d have a much longer search ahead of him.

Blessedly, it was not long before the young witch picked up on a rather sharply out of place smell, akin to that of an industrial grade sanitizer mixed with the dragon scales that Jake shed from time to time. 

Zeroing in on the drastically out of place scent, Hunter began following the trail. 

Along the way, the young witch picked up on the small displacements in the natural arrangement of the woods. Claw marks with too few digits, bits of bright pink fabric clinging to thorns, and occasionally the tiniest splatters of green blood that were growing fresher as he continued on. Though, thankfully, the spots were less common the newer they were. 

Eventually, Hunter’s trail went cold. 

Well, not exactly cold, but it did stop at the base of a very large tree. One of those trees that seemed to have many trunks that reached up towards the sky, giving many routes for potential climbers to take. And somewhere in the multiple canopies those trunks connected to, he could hear the Irken’s unique voice muttering a nonsensical language. 

To Hunter, the pattern of speech was familiar, even if he couldn’t understand the words.

The irken was having a mental breakdown.

No time to waste, then

Shifting into his feline form, Hunter circled the base of the tree, sniffing the trunks, and managed to pinpoint which had been scaled most recently. 

Leaping onto the trunk, the young witch proceeded to scale the tree with expert efficiency, reaching the canopy in no time at all. 

The scene he was met with was not unfamiliar, but still heartbreaking in its own right. 

The young green alien was curled in on himself within a rather large hollow in the trunk, obscured from the ground by abundant, lush branches. Hunter couldn’t understand a word he was saying, but judging by his posture and trembling, the young witch could make a pretty good guess. 

Sighing, knowing he couldn’t leave him to deal with whatever his issues may be alone, Hunter pulled himself into the opening.

No response from the irken.

I was right, mental breakdown

Bolded by the confirmation, the witch quietly made his way to the irkens side, pressing his fluffy body up against him with a quiet mewl.

The response to this was near instantaneous, the Irken scooping him up and burying his face into his purple fur, hugging him so tightly any normal cat would have been obliterated. 

Thankfully, to Hunter, the pressure was simply mildly uncomfortable, not life-ending. 

The violette begun purring with his whole body as he nuzzled the side of the Irken’s head, his research on therapy cats having prepared him for moments like this.

Eventually, Zim began calming down, his trembling lessening as Hunter began whispering comforting sentiments, this not being the first time he’d been in such a situation. He kept the purring up even when Zim eventually stopped trembling entirely, loosening his hold on the witch and sitting back a bit to get a better look at who had joined him in his hideaway. 

“Pff- I really don’t get earth creatures” the invader commented after a moment, smiling a bit as he wiped a tear from his eye. His face was still supporting darkened pigmentation, perhaps a blush, his eyes supporting stress lines, but as a whole, he seemed to have calmed significantly. “Such an odd creature”

Hunter made no protest as the irkens clawed hands cupped the underside of his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks far more gently than the witch considered the invader capable of. 

Things stayed quiet for a short while, the silence only interrupted by occasional quiet purring as Zim graduated to pulling the witch back into his arms, running a hand down his back. 

“…Massive, I was played for such a fool” The young alien finally spoke again, earning a look from the disguised witch in his arms. “I had more options for free thinking than my peers, and yet I failed to see anything for what it truly was”

Hunter remained silent, staring at the irken. 

However, unlike before, the staring seemed to be more of an invitation, rather than an act of distain. 

Zim took the offer as a sign to continue. 

“I was stupid enough to believe the Tallest wanted to conquer a planet anywhere near Diamond territory. Dumb enough to believe this was anything aside from downright banishment” The young being sighed, gently cupping the disguised witches face. “I’ve done so many horrid things, all in the name of an empire who wanted nothing to do with me. Did these humans deserve any of it? Probably not. Did my actions accomplish anything aside from causing pain? No”

The irken took a deep breath, an attempt to steady himself.

“All it took was some human hacking into my PAK, and everything just… fell apart” Zim huffed, sounding… defeated. “I’m thinking more clearly than I’ve ever experienced in my life, yet the first thing I do is run like a coward”

Another deep breath. Trembling claws were calmed by the creature setting its paws on them.

“So many lives…” The irken shuddered, calming himself by rubbing his thumbs on the creatures paws before he continued on. “I… don’t know what to do. What can I do?”

Silence returned as the Irken withdrew his hands, attempting to curl back in on himself.

Nope. Can’t have that

“Well, you can start by getting out of this tree” Hunter spoke, startling the Irken enough for a shriek. He chuckled at the reaction, putting a paw up to his face. “What? You didn’t seriously think I was a regular cat, did you?”

“… I don’t even know what a cat is” The irken replied meekly, before the weight of the admission reached his brain, and he kept to his feet. “Wait, you- you consciously dared to stalk the almighty ZIM!?” 

“Ah, theres that passion” Hunter cackled, pouncing on the Irkens head with a triumphant mewl. “Now, why don’t you and I have a little chat back on campus, yeah?”

“Wait, YOU-“ 

The irken didn’t get to finish before shadows swallowed the both of them up, leaving nothing more than a shed whisker behind. 

……………….

Neither boy resurfaced for a couple of hours.

When they did, it was by walking into an argument between the pair of Steven (whom Dib had run into instead of Ford) and Jack versus Krel and Dib. 

It was obvious to even the most oblivious of students that whatever was going on in that hallway was to be avoided at all costs, so the four had been locked in a stalemate for nearly the entire duration of time that Zim was MIA. 

It wasn’t even a particularly flashy interruption, Hunter simply strolled into the room, Irken boy at his heels, and interjected himself between the warring parties with little more than a flick of the tail.

His effortless nonchalance about interrupting said intense debate silenced everyone involved. However, if you knew where to look, you’d assuredly see the discomfort Hunter masked with despondence as he met the gaze of Steven before speaking.  

“Zim has good in him, underneath the understandable insanity” He stated, tail twitching a bit at the end as Steven regarded him. “I think we should give him a chance, at the very least”

Steven seemed to contemplate the statement for a bit.

“… Alright then. I’ll trust you on this” 

“Are you out of your-!?” Krel attempted to interrupt, terror in his expression, but he was quickly silenced underneath the combined weight of both Hunter and Steven’s warning looks. “… Fine. Keep it out of my space, and we won’t have a problem”

“Zim?”

“I do not appreciate being referred to as an “it”, Akiridon” the irken hissed, appearing highly offended. “But, contrary to popular opinion, I am no fool. I will stay out of your way”

“That’s debatable” Dib scoffed, but went quiet when Hunter set him a disapproving look. 

“See to it that you do” Krel agreed, before hastily making his exit as Hunter turned back to Steven. 

“Tell Ford Zim wishes to enroll here. If there are any issues regarding problematic conduct with him in the future, I shall see to its resolution myself” Hunter addressed his peer stiffly, but Steven seemed not to mind.

“If thats how you want it” the other boy replied, and followed Krel out of the lab, heading down towards the basement.

The moment Steven was out of Hunter’s earshot, the room immediately lost a lot of tension, and Jack finally spoke up for the first time.

“Are you sure it’s smart to keep someone infamous enough to cause an intergalactic panic on school grounds?” The redhead questioned as Hunter sat down on the table, much more laid back and comfortable than he’d been moments before. “I’m all for letting him live, don’t get me wrong, but won’t we be inviting trouble if he stays?”

“Jack, I’m pretty sure the school taking Edric and I in was the very definition of “Inviting Trouble”” He chuckled, before gesturing to where Dib and Zim were having a glaring contest, before devolving into a no-holds-barred wrestling match on the floor. “Besides, despite the animosity, I’’m pretty sure Dib will be much more comfortable having his sworn enemy where he can reach him”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they’re actively trying to kill each other right now” Jack pointed out, looking disturbed as Dib pulled some kind of funky dagger out of his trechcoat, raising it up to strike the screeching irken. 

However before Dib could commit an intergalactic hate crime, the dagger dissolved into dust, leaving an opening for Zim to take back the upper hand and shove the human off of him. 

“And that, my friend, is what magic is good for” Hunter chuckled, spell circle still in the air as two glasses of fancy pudding appeared on the table while the kids kept fighting in the background. “Just, relax. Stan’s commentary on children fighting isn’t without its merits, after all”

And so, the pair of friends spent the next hour just watching two minor mortal enemies scrapping on the floor until they wore themselves out, any possibility of a fatality intercepted far before it could cause damage. 

All in all, not the weirdest Thursday Hunter had experienced. 

[hearse-song]

😳i wish you would uh😳write some😳some nice vivisection😳❤🤧

And will I! Since I've been wanting to play with a whumper with healing powers, and since Tanner's been the oc most taking up my thoughts currently, I now get to write a bit about what they get up to in their downtime (by which I mean just straight keeping someone captive as an unwilling reference for anatomical sketches, because you live on the edge of a frontier town and you can get away with it)

cw: vivisection, gore, blood, fingers in wounds, body horror, captivity, reference to begging, low-key defiant whumpee, whumpee who is way too used to the horrible things happening to him, low-key sadistic whumper, referenced forced drugging/sedation, noncon touch (nonsexual) implications of eye whump as a threat

Reid tried and failed to stifle a gasp as the knife first bit into the skin of his chest. It never hurt, exactly, not between the ether that was always forced on him and whatever unnatural thing it was that the goddamned monster that was keeping him captive did to stop him from dying on the table. He could still feel something, though, a far-off ghost of pain following the blade through his flesh.

The table was rough at his back, and despite himself he couldn't help but pull against the leather straps that held down his arms and legs. At least this time his head wasn't strapped down as well. He'd take that as a small mercy.

He kept his eyes locked on the barn ceiling above him as the knife continued its course down his torso. Tanner was singing under their breath as they continued to cut at him, bits of one of the songs he'd heard here over and over again.

"And it's cheer up my lads, let your hearts never fail,

For the bonny ship, the Diamond, goes a-fishing for the whale"

Even without having to look he knew that Tanner's gaze would be flickering expectantly between their work and his face. The first time he'd woken up on their table he'd tried to plead his way out, had screamed and cursed when they cut him even though he'd barely felt anything. But now he kept silent, jaw clenched shut so tightly he could hear it creak. He wouldn't give them anything more, no matter how much they'd taken from him.

Just be done with this, God damn you

After what felt like an eternity Reid heard the knife being set down on the table, and felt Tanner's fingers curl into his wounds and pull at the flesh. He closed his eyes, tried to push everything away, the tugging, and the wet sounds, and he wouldn't look, he wouldn't look, he wouldn't look.

He looked. He could never stop himself.

His blood was so bright, in the light of the lanterns set up around the room and the sun streaming in through the high barn window. His insides gleamed sickly in the same light, things he had no names for pulsing and moving against each other.

He'd never thought, in the time before the night he'd asked for shelter from what had turned out to be the wrong person, about what he might look like under the skin. But now, after all these many months later, he'd never be able to forget.

"Beautiful," Tanner breathed, one bloody hand hovering over his exposed guts, "absolutely beautiful." They turned to look at him, face shining with what Reid would only be able to describe as joy. "I'm just going to do a sketch, and then I'll have you put all back together."

"Whatever you're gonna do, just do it," he replied, not bothering to hid his anger.

They leaned in closer over him, hand drifting up to cup one side of his face. He tried to hold their gaze, but finally looked away as they ran a thumb under his eye, leaving smears of his own blood on his skin. Then, without another word, they straightened back up and turned away, humming to themself.

Reid laid his head back against the table, letting out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding.

He was in Hell.

He was in Hell, and worse, he’d gotten used to it.

[a-byronic-heroine]

Kly as an in-game companion

RECRUITMENT

• She can be found in the jail beneath the Chantry in a cell after the “Wrath of Heaven” quest and title card. The first conversation occurs when the Inquisitor finds her. They discuss her presence, how she got there and who she is. The Inquisitor can continually approach her for conversation.

• After “Champions of the Just”, Kly is very angry and pacing. She warns the Inquisitor of the consequences of this. If the Inquisitor is dismissive, Kly warns them of the consequences of their actions. If the Inquisitor investigates, they learn more of Kly’s backstory. If they agree or remain neutral, Kly warns them they’ve made enemies and to watch their back.

• After “In Hushed Whispers”, if approached in her cell, Kly asks about the future the Inquisitor saw, and offers her sincere gratitude as well as appearing pensive and uneasy. The Inquisitor has the option to investigate and learn more of Kly’s backstory.

• At Skyhold, she is a subject of a Judgement. The Inquisitor can to give her to the Chantry and Orlais in an act of diplomacy, make her an agent of the Inquisition and companion, or give her to the Templars as executing her in Skyhold itself is deemed too risky without a greater templar presence. If she isn’t recruited, a War Table mission becomes available saying she has escaped custody and fled. She joins Corypheus along with the Underground without the positive influence of the Inquisitor and becomes an enemy.

• Kly can be found in the infirmary area of Skyhold as a companion. Ambient NPCs will occasionally mention “the blood mage” healing them or curing ailments.

CONVERSATIONS

Hostile greetings:

“You again?”

“What now?”

“Do you ever leave?”

Hostile farewells:

“Yeah.”

“And a merry fuck off to you too.”

“Finally.”

Neutral greetings:

“Ah, Inquisitor.”

“Yes?”

“Are you here for healing?”

Neutral farewells:

“Good day, Inquisitor.”

“Farewell, Inquisitor.”

“So long.”

Warm greetings:

“Ah, hello.”

“It’s good to see you.”

“All is well, I trust?”

Warm farewells:

“I quite enjoy these talks.”

“Come see me again soon.”

“Be well, my friend.”

Romanced greetings:

“So forward.”

“Yes, dear?”

“You look particularly lovely today.”

Romanced farewells:

“I’ll meet you in your rooms later.”

“What? No goodbye kiss?”

“I already miss you.”

DECISIONS

• She greatly approves of helping Ferelden citizens, killing templars and siding with mages. If she goes to Ferelden, she’ll sometimes give little tidbits of information like the origin of the mabari, the Blight’s affect on the land, history, noble houses, etc.

• She greatly disapproves of conscripting the mages or siding with/aiding any Templar forces. She only disapproves of disbanding and conscripting Templars.

• She approves of talking with spirits and demons, including the demon Imshael, instead of just immediately attacking them. Though she greatly disagrees with any deals made with them.

• She cannot be taken as a companion to Val Royeaux, as she’s considered a terrorist. During “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts”, Kly can actually be found there, tough she is in disguise. If spoken to, she’ll say she’s there for “no reason” and cannot be spoken to again.

OPINIONS ON THE OTHER COMPANIONS

• She greatly disapproves of Vivienne’s recruitment. Anytime they’re in the same party, they’re particularly malicious with each other. She usually doesn’t even use her name when asked about her. She’ll call her Vivisection, Vasectomy or Venereal when asked about her. Kly will say “she was hot until she opened her mouth”.

• She distrusts Blackwall because “no one is that nice naturally” but otherwise gets along with him. She approves of his recruitment, and after his betrayal will disapprove of him becoming a warden. She is neutral towards romances with Blackwall. Pre-Ranier she’ll say “I guess it works. No pregnancy, limited number of years available for them to betray you. Quite the neat package”. Post-Rainer, she’ll say “It’s noble to forgive him for what he did. I only wish others could be as forgiving with me.”

• She approves of recruiting Dorian. She also approves of romances with Dorian. When they’re in the same party, they usually talk about how ridiculous they think Andrastianism is. If Dorian is romanced she’ll say it’s “nice not everyone hates mages”.

• She approves of recruiting Cole. She’s neutral to whether he becomes more or less spirit-like. She treats Cole a lot like a child when they’re in the same party, so she’s extremely gentle and patient with him even when he does “that mind thing I told you not to do”.

• She gets along well with Solas. If they’re in the same party, they’ll often discuss magical theory and what Solas has seen in the Fade. She approves of romances with Solas. If he romances the Inquisitor, she will mention it in party and say “I understand why you only like elf girls. I quite like them, myself. First crush I ever had was on a Dalish girl”.

• She disapproves of recruiting Iron Bull because he follows the Qun which is just as bad if not worse than the Chantry in her mind. If he becomes Tal Vashoth, she gets along well with him. If Bull romances the Inquisitor and he’s Tal Vashoth, Kly approves, mentioning the forgiveness thing she does with Blackwall’s romance post-Ranier. If Bull is still Ben Hasraath during a romance, Kly will warn the Inquisitor to watch their back. If they’re a mage, Kly will take them aside to try and dissuade them. In parties, Bull usually jokes about blood magic with her, claiming it will do fantastical things, and she’ll usually laugh and correct him.

• Kly dislikes Varric because he “asks too many questions” at first, though her relationship becomes more amicable the more they interact. His nickname for her is usually “paper cut”. In parties, he’ll ask her things like what she did in Kirkwall, where in Ferelden she’s from, etc. Kly will usually be truthful, but when he gets too close to an uncomfortable subject, she’ll just say “no, nope, not telling. New question!”.

• She’s neutral towards Sera, though Sera will disapprove of her recruitment. Sera’s relationship with Solas is similar to the one she has with Kly. Sera will tell Kly her magic is gross, Kly will offer her situations where it’s saved lives and Sera will blow her off, that kind of thing. Kly actually appreciates Sera’s pranks, even when played on her. She says they remind her of a simpler time though she never elaborates. Kly is neutral on romances with Sera. She’ll say “She’s certainly cute, but when she speaks, I can rarely keep up. It’s exhausting”.

• For obvious reasons Kly and Cassandra don’t get along. They often bicker about issues of religion and the Chantry when in the same party. Kly will bring up the times the Chantry uses blood magic or has committed mass murder and Cassandra will bring up blood mage crimes, even hinting at the one involving her family. Kly will take the Inquisitor aside if they’re a mage and pursue a relationship with Cassandra to try and dissuade them. She’ll usually remark “how does that work with that stick always up her arse?”.

OPINIONS ON ADVISORS

•Josephine reminds Kly of her mother in many ways, she’ll say as much. She’ll also say she find’s Josephine’s attempts at peaceful approaches to situations refreshing after all the war she’s seen. Kly will approve of a romance with her. She’ll say “I hope you’re ready for the most ridiculously lavish engagement parties you’ve ever seen”.

• In her opinion, Sister Nightingale has always had her fingers on the big moments in history. She’ll wonder aloud if that’s a good or a bad thing given these turns of events. If a Cousland was the Hero of Ferelden, Kly will remark on the relationship she had with her sibling whether it was friendly or romantic. If Leliana was killed in DA:O, Kly will not mention her.

•She’ll say she “knew of” Cullen at Kirkwall as he was rather notorious. If asked about Kinloch, she’ll say she has no idea if he was there during her tenure there. She will say he’s changed his tune, but she will still doubt his sincerity on the matter. If Cullen comes off lyrium, she’ll occasionally mention his blood feels like he’s not a Templar though she will not investigate the matter. If the Inquisitor is a mage, Kly will take them aside if they pursue a relationship with him and will try to dissuade them.

COMPANION QUESTS/CUTSCENES

• Kly’s first actual companion cutscene is at Skyhold. Just after her Judgement. She can be found doing blood magic to transfuse blood between soldiers. She is glaring at a very conspicuous Templar watching her. She asks if he’s a necessary precaution; the Inquisitor in some way reminds her she’s on thin ice. Kly says nothing would ever absolve her in the Maker’s or Chantry’s eyes before asking if the Inquisitor believes in the Chantry after what Corypheus said. 

• After “Here Lies the Abyss”, Kly asks the Inquisitor how they’re faring. She does a check up and talks about what she was doing during the last Blight and admits she’s sympathetic to the Wardens’ original intentions. If a Cousland was the Warden, Kly mentions it and her family can be further inquired about. A WT quest opens up with Fergus Cousland inquiring about rumors relating to his sister. The Inquisitor can send a missive being honest about her presence (Josephine) or they can lie to keep Kly’s presence secret (Leliana).

•After “Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts”, the Inquisitor asks what Kly was doing in Orlais at the ball. Kly speaks vaguely about a job for someone. It’s implied this is the Mage Underground. There are no approval changes. A WT mission opens about a string of dead nobles and Chantry officials in Orlais. Leliana’s spies know it was Kly. Leliana mentions many of the assassinations were helpful. The Inquisitor can send money to the families and Chantry with anonymous donations (Josephine), can put allies in the positions that need to be filled (Leliana), or a detail can be assigned to keep an eye on Kly to see if she tries anything else (Cullen).

• Kly’s companion quest starts with Kly mentioning she received a missive from an acquaintance and asks the Inquisitor to come with her to Redcliffe. The cutscene goes to the docks where a Tranquil mage is waiting. Kly speaks with the Tranquil, asking if they remember her and “the pact”. The Tranquil will mention they had been waiting for her. Then she will kill the Tranquil. The Inquisitor will be stunned and ask why Kly killed them. Kly will explain that this was an agent for the Underground and they fought during the war together. She talks about the promise they made to kill each other if one ever became Tranquil. If the Inquisitor disapproves, Kly will tell them she trusted them with this but was wrong to do so and she will greatly disapprove. If the Inquisitor approves, Kly thanks them for their understanding and asks if they can help bury them.

• Back at Skyhold, Kly will barge into a meeting of the Inquisitor and their advisors saying they have a problem. Kly shows them a missive explaining that the Underground has allied secretly with Corypheus. She’s been given orders to murder the Inquisitor. Kly has decided the Underground is no longer the force for good it originally was. There is an option to remove her as a companion. If this is done, she just disappears somewhere in Ferelden. If the Inquisitor is supportive of Kly, a War Table mission for Leliana opens to purge the Inquisition of Underground loyalists with Kly’s help.

[melon-kiss]

Cold Tea, Pt. 1

I’m not native English, which seems kind of obvious if you read my posts. I’d like you to keep that in mind. I hope your eyes won’t start bleeding at the end. Or in the middle. Or at any point of reading this fic.

Enjoy! or... whatever.

___________

“Hello, Sherlock.”

She finally answered the call, although she tapped the green button with a heavy heart. She put a lot of effort in trying not to sound sad.

“Is this urgent? Because I’m not having a good day.” Her voice sounded gloomy anyway.

When she woke up this morning, she felt a certain heaviness in everything she was doing. The lab seemed strange, she was working like a robot. She might not have a memory palace, but her body definitely had a muscle memory and was able to work with her brain detached.

“Molly, I just want you to do something very easy for me and not ask why”, Sherlock said fast as usual.

No “hello”, no “how are you doing”. Molly was used to his obnoxious behaviour but that day it only worsened her already bad mood. She wasn’t willing to deal with his craziness and arrogance. Not after all the tears she cried once she got back home from work. Not after realising it was another pathetic day of her lonely life. Another day of loving a person that could not care less about her.

You do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you.

What a bunch of lies. She was useful to him in the best case scenario. She could show him bodies that should not be shown or let him use the lab equipment. She was the necessary leverage in his battle with Moriarty, but this was the only reason he wanted to spend an entire day with her - to thank her. On the rest of the days he was just manipulative as always. She didn’t matter to him in any sort of personal meaning of this word.

Usually, she would become his minion one more time, but that day she wasn’t going to play along.

“Oh, God, is this one of your stupid games?”

“It’s not a... game, I need you to help me”. His voice suddenly softened a bit, leading Molly to confusion.

“Well, I’m not at the lab-“

“It’s not about that”, he interrupted in a strangely nervous tone.

The nervousness got to her as well. The tea she intended to drink was starting to get cold and she resumed the making process to keep her hands busy. She felt it must have been something unusual, even for Sherlock Holmes.

“Well... quickly, then”, she replied, half-consciously cleaning up the kitchen counter.

But he remained silent for another couple of seconds. She started losing her patience.

“Sherlock!”, she rushed him. “What is it? What do you want?”

He finally spoke up.

“Molly, please, without asking why, just say these words.”

She thought that maybe this time it wouldn’t be that bad of a game. Maybe he just wanted to solve a funny puzzle and needed to hear it from someone else’s lips?

“What words?”, she asked with a little of a smile on her face.

“I love you.”

The bad mood, which was almost gone, got back immediately. So, after all, it was his another mockery. Another way to make her feel stupid and small in the face of the great, brilliant Sherlock Holmes. Her body started trembling a bit and she lost interest in the conversation right away. She took back the phone from her ear and look at the screen, her finger ready to tap the red icon.

“Leave me alone.”

“No, Molly, please, no, don’t hang up! Do not hang up!”

It was the first time Molly heard Sherlock in such desperate tone. What was it all about? No, never mind that. She stopped caring about his reason for this call. She didn’t want to talk to him. Not like that. Not about that. She was fed up with his ignorance of her presence and feelings. Mocking her was where she drew the line.

“Why are you doing this to me? Why making fun of me?”

“Please, I swear, you just have to listen to me.” He made a short stop. “Molly, this is for a case.” His voice was raised and sounded falsely. “It’s... it’s a sort of experiment.”

Ah, yes. Of course. All the people in the world were “an experiment” for Sherlock. And to think that she was the first one to discover the human in him... She was so stupid. So blind.

But even then, even when she felt so betrayed, it didn’t change her feelings.

“I’m not an experiment... Sherlock”, she replied, her voice lowered and eyes got glossy.

“No, I know you’re not an experiment, you’re my friend. We’re friends”, his response was a little bit more silent and softer again. It was the first time he openly admitted that. But nothing beyond that. “But... please. Just say those words for me.”

“Please, don’t do this”, she whispered.

Why would he do that? He’s changed a bit lately. Molly sensed a touch of John Watson in this metamorphosis of his, so... why would he do that? Did he not consult this with John? Did dr Watson approved this? How could he do this to her, knowing all he knew?

“Just.. just... don’t do it.”

Couldn’t he choose someone else? Many people, especially his dedicated fans, could say those words sincerely, if that’s what it all was about. Why did he choose her? Molly had many thoughts flooding her head with contrary opinions but she mostly felt betrayed by Sherlock. More than ever.

“It’s very important. I can’t say why... but I promise you it is.”

The person he thought didn’t matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most.

“I can’t, I can’t say that. I can’t say that... to you.”

Her heart started pumping blood a lot faster and heavier than before. She didn’t understand the sick position she was in, she didn’t understand Sherlock’s agenda and didn’t want to have this conversation at all. Yet, she didn’t hang up like he asked. She knew that humiliation was waiting for her. She initiated it with her last sentence.

“Of course you can, why can’t you?”

She almost felt his nervous smile on the other side of the call.

“You know why”. Her voice hardened with anger.

Why was he playing stupid now? After all those years of living in the need of being the smartest person in the room, he suddenly claims he doesn’t know? He didn’t notice? Bullshit.

“No, I don’t know why”, he replied in a desperate, almost mad tone.

She took a short breath and rubbed her nose, getting more and more anxious.

“Of course you know”, she said with a bitter smile.

Because... how could he not? It was kind of obvious he figured it out a long time ago, during a Christmas drinks with the rest of his friends. He spotted his own present in her bag and started angrily deducing that she was going to meet a “serious boyfriend” that night. And the surprise on his face when he read the tag... Not many people could surprise Sherlock, yet she managed to do this a couple of times. But that Christmas she paid for this astonishment with her own embarrassment. He said sorry, which was unusual for him, but... he must have deduced that back then. And see it in every move she made when he was around.

He was silent for a couple of seconds.

“Please, just say it.”

It seemed so easy when he talked about it, but her body was rejecting those words. She couldn’t. The words were stuck in her throat.

“I can’t. Not to you.” She started losing her voice.

“Why?”

What was with him and all those weird questions? Was he testing her patience or nerves? What was it all about?

“Because... because it’s true”. Her voice started breaking. She realised the last word was inaudible. “Because it’s true, Sherlock! It’s... always been... true...”

Tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t control her voice or breathing. The moment she waited for so many years came unexpectedly and in such horrible way. With Sherlock treating her disrespectfully, like an evidence on a crime scene, like a rat during a vivisection. Experimenting on her heart like a cold surgeon.

There was a dead silence for a couple of seconds on the other side of the call.

When he spoke, his voice was very low and surprisingly warm.

“If it’s true, just say it anyway.”

She laughed shortly, with a bitter face. She sighed, letting a bit of her anxiety go.

“You bastard.”

So he did know. He knew and he thought that this was going to be so easy? If it were, she would have told him a long time ago. Didn’t it occur to him that there must be a reason why it’s so difficult for people to tell someone they love them? No, of course not. Why would it? It’s Sherlock, after all. Emotional context and romantic entanglement are for losers. Losers like her, who would take a bullet for him. Like her who helped him take down the most dangerous criminal there has ever been on the London streets, his archenemy. Who, silently, was always there. Who gave up her bedroom so he could have his space.

“Say it anyway”, he insisted, his voice cold and unpleasant.

It was her turn. Her turn to play a game. To let him taste his own medicine. And... to hear it. At least once.

“You say it”, she demanded with confidence. “Go on. You say it first.”

“What?” He was clearly confused and nervous.

Apparently, he wasn’t that good in games if he wasn’t the game host. In logic games he might have been the best man of Earth, but if there were emotions included... he was lost. Helpless.

“Say it”, she repeated in a cold voice, the same one he used on her couple of seconds ago. “Say it like you mean it.”

For about fifteen seconds he didn’t say a single word. Molly pulled her phone closer to her ear, placed her second hand on the one holding the telephone and closed her eyes with a pain wrinkling her face. She didn’t want to miss a single sound if he was about to speak again.

“I...”, he started hesitatingly. “I love you.”

She felt the pain flooding her chest. It sounded so insincere. She kept imagining that this was real. She was picturing herself in a nice place with him, both of them smiling, his eyes filled with affection. She wanted so badly for those words to be real.

But she couldn’t make a sound.

And then, unexpectedly, he spoke again. Softly, silently.

“I love you.”

The pain couldn’t let go of her. She was rubbing her hand and pressing the phone against her face, trying to imagine the texture of the skin on his palms, the softness of his arms, the warmth of his body. His voice was still ringing in her head, not giving her any sort of relief.

“Molly?”

She took the phone from her ear and brought it closer to her lips. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel her entire body pulsing with it.

“Molly, please!” He sounded very desperate.

Back to the reality. Sherlock was still waiting for her response. She was rubbing her lower lip with her finger, gaining the courage. Now or never, Molly Hooper. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

“I love you.”

All she heard was a sound of a relief sigh. After that, he just unceremoniously hung up.

[purplesunrisefanfic]

“this is the only way to keep you safe.”

Okay, let’s try another direct bash out of a Drabble or ficlet, because they’re kinda fun. :D There will be typos et cetera.

WARNINGS: (written after the fic) Surprising no one, I wrote y’all some angst and some kinky kinky smut.

MAJOR warning for anyone with claustrophia or triggers around imprisonment, abadonment or kidnapping. @ me if you want more info to decide, but I would suggest you consider skipping this fic if those are issues for you.

Warning for consent: While I try to write things in with an atmosphere that implies such things are present, I don’t write all the details of negotiations, safeword agreements or other preagreed variations from normal rules of consent into every fic I write. Please assume that these things are there in the background of their established relationship, this is consensual play in a context of having done this type of stuff together before and having agreed to how they will handle what counts as a yes.

General warnings for vague mentions of violence/the threats of the TLOU universe, sexually explicit swearing and for various kinky things. More detailed warnings re:the kinky things would kinda be spoilers so @ me if you want or need these. And as always, ANY reader, for ANY of my fics, ANYTIME is also just generally welcome to reach out to ask if you have less commonly warned-for triggers that you wanna check for.

This Is The Only Way To Keep You Safe (Abby/Ellie)

“This is fucking bullshit! What the fuck—“

“This is the only way to keep you safe, Ellie.”

“How the fuck is fucking trapping me down here supposed to keep me safe?!”

“You think they won’t still want you? That base is full of Salt Lake vets. Someone will recognise you. Down here, they won’t get the chance.”

“If it’s so dangerous, then what the hell are you thinking taking Lev—“

“Lev will be fine. He’s not immune. They don’t slaughter random people—“

“Just vivisect the special kids, huh?”

Abby ignored the jibe, still not sure what to make of the “other side” of the story.

“Have you forgotten how badly we need the help? They adored my father, and I don’t see that we have a better shot of getting what we need than to hope they’ll do Jerry’s daughter a favour.”

“I get that, but I don’t see how that plan equals that we should be locking me in freakin’ basement.”

“Ellie.” Abby waited a moment, wanting to try and get her into listening mode.

“You will be alone. For days. In an area where the only people who survived the Rattler base destruction have seen that you were bitten. They will recognise you. You’re not exactly wanting for being memorable. In a group, it’s less obvious but alone? You will be seen, you will be recognised. And, if by some miracle you don’t get shot in head for being presumed to be infected, then word of that will travel. The Fireflies will get wind and come looking themselves, or someone will be smart enough to try and trade you for the bounty.”

“Fine. I’ll keep a low profile. I’ll stay quiet and make sure I’m not seen.”

Abby stopped organising her rucksack and turned to make eye contact. “Ellie,” she said, looking at her with affectionate skepticism.

Under Abby’s gaze, she grew a little awkward, both from the tension and from how much she didn’t like being called on her obvious bullshit.

“When are you quiet?”

“Uh? Excuse me? Who is it that knifes a room full of clickers alone without a single one of them noticing while you and Lev just fucking wait around?”

“And how long does that take?”

Her question met with silence, Abby continues. “And what do you do afterward?”

She raises her eyebrow as she asks, but still gets a reply of silence.

“Yes. Ellie. You are a fucking machine. I get that. You‘re a stealth master when it suits the battle. But being quiet for days, when most of time you aren’t in combat? No shouting out any cusses? No calling out for ‘any more of you fuckers’?”

Abby’s serious look with her slight raised eyebrow transforms into a look of utter incredulity at the though of Ellie keeping a constant low profile for three whole days.

“And you have a good chance of making it alone out here while we’re gone, I know that too. But not as good as if you stay hidden.”

Unable to actually argue the points, Ellie sticks to silently staring back, nostrils flaring, and clearly seething. Abby gives her a minute, returning to packing her bag. Still livid about the situation and not wanting to accept the reality of it, Ellie decides to try some clear bullshit.

“The way you wanna lock me up, I’ll have to kick a whole bookcase over if I need to get out. How much noise will that make?”

Abby sighs wearily. Maybe she should ask the Fireflies to examine her head while she is there, see if there’s a medical reason she’s masochistically fallen for the most stubborn person she’s ever met.

“This basement is well-hidden. There’s no reason to think it will be found even if people search the rest of the house. And you’re not telling me that you couldn’t set things up so that an even army couldn’t survive to the bottom of those stairs, if it came to it. because if we’re agreeing on anything here, it’s that you are more than capable.”

This was getting exhausting. Abby dug deep.

“Could you not just put up with a few days of rest for the sake of my peace of mind, please?”

Ellie was taken aback. Her expression softened as she registered the sincere concern in Abby’s eyes and she reconsidered.

“Okay. I’ll do it. For you.“

She still had to fire a parting shot, though.

“I’m not saying I agree with you, I still think it’s ridiculous, but I’ll do it for you.”

Fuck’s sake, can nothing ever be easy? Well, at least she’d agreed... Abby sighed in relief then gave her a weary “Thank you,” not looking up from her bag.

Ellie started to feel like she’d been kind of a dick. Sorry was not likely to be coming out of her stubborn mouth, but she tried to make some amends.

“Besides,” she spoke with a suggestive grin, “I wouldn’t wanna deny you whatever perverted kicks you’ll get out of holding me captive for three straight days.”

Abby scoffed with some amusement.

“You think this is a sex game?”

Ellie’s expression was full of challenge, “Isn’t it?”

Abby smiled. This was how Ellie got her to overlooked how freakin’ annoying her stubborness was.

“No, it’s a ‘you don’t die horribly at the hands of the many possible foes we have’ game.”

“Meh, that sounds like a crappy game, a sex game would be better.”

The suggestion in Ellie’s voice went straight to Abby’s clit. Her voice took on a flirty edge.

“You wanna make this a sex game?”

Ellie smirked.

“Don’t you?” She fired back.

Then she bit her lip. Purposefully. It seemed she’d decided to go from goading Abby one way to goading her another way. She got more than she bargained for when Abby lunged at her.

Hand behind Ellie’s head to absorb the impact, she slammed her into a wall. Then her hands moved around, holding Ellie’s head in place against the wall, with a grip too tight for Ellie to move forward. She moved her lips to within milimeters of a kiss before she spoke in a husky voice.

“You want three days down here with an ass so sore you can’t sit? Because that can be arranged.”

Ellie tried to suppress a moan, but didn’t manage to fully conceal her reaction. Abby heard her, and was very happy for the opportunity to goad her back.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Wanna make this a little more fun, El?”

Ellie’s pride overrode her desire, and she attempted a stoic look and a shrug. But Abby could see deeper.

“I think that’s a yes...”

Ellie put her game face on, ready for Abby to strip it away but not quite wanting to bellow out the “Yes” that her body was screaming. Abby started to stroke her fingertips across Ellie’s décolletage, towards her left shoulder. She traced a line down from her shoulder to her arm slowly, and Ellie felt her anticipation creep up a little.

Once she reached Ellie’s wrist, she took hold of her hand, pressing her biceps into the wall and bending her elbow so her forearm stuck out in front of her. Her left hand kept a grip too tight for Ellie fight while she started to trace every line of the intricate tattoo that covered Ellie’s scarred skin and the secrets below it. Using just the nail of her thumb, she slowly dragged the pattern against her girlfriend’s flesh. She made it about halfway before Ellie gave in and audibly whimpered. Then Abby let up for awhile, moving so that Ellie could touch her all over, then strip her naked and eat her out as she laid on the one of beds down in the barracks. She kept her hands on Ellie the whole time as the redhead went down on her, building her arousal with tickles on the sensitive little spots she’d gradually found on Ellie’s neck, shoulders and ears. She sometimes felt Ellie shudder a little on top of her. Perfect.

—

Ellie was gasping from her own desire by the time Abby came. Abby held her for a minutes and tried her best to speak affectionately, something that still made her shy. Once she’d recovered, she picked Ellie up, held her with her face to the wall and started to give her the promised glow on her ass. When she seemed to have finished, Ellie moaned invitingly, wanting Abby’s fingers. But Abby wasn’t finished yet.

“Uh-uh, I thought we said this should hurt for three whole days, didn’t we? It’ll take a little more than that to get you nicely bruised up enough to last for three days.”

—

It wasn’t hardest Ellie had experienced (and her tolerance was this sort of thing was yet another source of stubborn pride, of course) but she was visibly in some pain by the time Abby had finished with her. Pain that only got worse when Abby flipped her around a pressed her back and ass into the wall. Two very strong thighs held Ellie’s leg in place, spread open as she moaned in delight at the delicious agony she felt in her ass. Abby then placed her hands above her own legs, pressing Ellie’s hips into the wall, as she knelt down for a taste of Ellie’s soaked, dribbling cunt.

—

Once she’d edged Ellie with her tongue, she stopped and gave her a kiss on the mouth, sharing the taste that Abby delighted in but Ellie found a little uncomfortable to share with her, especially when Abby’s mouth left her own covered in her juices, her own scent right under her nose. Her cheeks stung as she considered her options: leave it there or lick her own lips and taste herself some more? She decided to leave it, something near primal in her driving an urge to leave the claim Abby had left on her where it was while she felt two fingers slip inside her. Yeah, she thought as she sighed at the touch, she wanted to come just like that, inhaling the memory of Abby’s mouth against her cunt as she felt her fingers thrust inside her and that now rather skilled thumb on her clit.

Abby has a different plan, though. One that earned her a cross between a whimper and a growl from Ellie. She pulled her fingers out and her hand away just in time to frustrate Ellie from her imminent climax. Ellie scowled at Abby as she licked her own fingers clean, enjoying a final taste of the woman she’d miss for the next three days.

“You wanted a sex game, Ellie? Well how about this? Don’t touch yourself while I’m gone. Wait for me to finish what I started.”

Abby began to walk away while Ellie was still gobsmacked, returning to her rucksack to finish preparing for the trip to another island nearby. She prepared slowly, giving Ellie a good chunk of time to consider if she wanted to safeword before Abby left (though she could always do so later on in her journal), but Ellie stayed quiet, her face slowly turning from shock to something that almost resembled glee. Eventually, she spoke up, wanting to signal her agreement without giving Abby an easy time of it.

“I knew the real reason you wanted me down here was pervy.”

Abby didn’t argue, though it was untrue. A little while later she picked up her bag and made her way to the stairs. She kept her goodbye simple, because all the important things had been said before and then said again without words as they’d played.

“I’ll see you in three days.”

[kantianbioethics]

Just Communication in Sound! Euphonium 2 - Part 1

Playing from the Heart.

Sound! Euphonium 2 is a phenomenal anime.

There are plenty of things that make it great, but what brings these things together and elevates them is a belief that the vital purpose of art is the communication of feelings between people. This belief drives its scenes, its characters, and its plot arcs, so that in trying to be what it considers to be good art, Sound! Euphonium 2 is at all times furthering its own thematic purpose.

What makes the series even more special is that, beyond making the case that art's purpose is communication, it also gives art a clear place within the entire praxis of communication between people. It then continues to give a dramatic argument for communication's importance to our lives. Sound! Euphonium 2 becomes a holistic dissertation/demonstration on why it is magnificent to life, claiming and proving in the same breath.

Writing about anime is a clumsy business, halting vivisection of living organism. Yet it is precisely because the good ones are so dense, so rich in meaningful detail, that tearing them apart can itself become meaningful. The hope is to find hidden things in the new gaps. To do that better, to make better gaps, I am splitting this article into three.

This part will show how art, as music, is portrayed as an ambiguous communicative practice throughout the series. The next will follow the first story arc, where the importance of communication is emphasized, particularly the explicit, verbal kind. The final part concerns our main character, Oumae Kumiko. It shows how her honest use of both these explicit and ambiguous forms of communication help her grow as a person throughout the series, and how that growth comes to positively affect others.

Let us begin.

Like the body language the men and women of Kyoto Animation are so adept at capturing, instrumental music is not a language able to carry explicit meaning the way Japanese or English can. Again, like body language, the playing of music is sometimes used by Sound! Euphonium 2 to convey information especially to us. There are some cases where the music does not necessarily express much of anything, but does serve metaphorical purpose. For example: the band president's badass sax solo in episode 8 is indicative of her fully growing into the central role she was sort of forced into before the first season even started. Likewise, another character's quitting of the trombone is revealed to be metaphorical for her self-denial of expression.

What is fascinating about Sound! Euphonium 2 though, are the times in which music is both expressive and meaningful to the characters within the show. The most important thing a piece of music does, is to carry some meaning, from musician to musician, that words do not sufficiently express. The way music is shaped to do so ranges from declarative, which can be understood, but does not need to be, to the communication of some message, to embodying their very selves. So important does music become to the way the members of the cast are in the world, that the playing of music becomes integral to the relationships they have with one another.

What I mean with “declarative”, first of all, is that Sound! Euphonium matches the way characters' playing sounds to some facet of how they are. Such is the case is with a repeated reflection on Kousaka Reina's character. Reina is proud and loud in more ways than one and she does not escape commentary on that fact. This, unintentionally, includes a remark from one of the band teachers in the third episode, telling her her playing is cocky. In that same scene, we also learn one of the things that clue us in to the nature of one Mizore's issues, her mechanical playing. Kumiko calls it “hollow”. Through their experience in playing and listening to music, the cast of Sound! Euphonium has become trained in picking up certain emotive registers in that music. Their commentary translates for us. In the playing of the talented ones, their personality, their disposition, and even an intended message may shine through.

What becomes interesting about this broadcast of feeling, is that it is not a wholly conscious thing. For the truly practiced, enlivening a piece of music with feeling has become an instinctive mode of doing things. In this regard, music may give us a peek at an inner world that otherwise would have remained hidden. Music becomes a way to convey a feeling, a self that they do not have the courage or words to speak of. It is not enough for true understanding, but more often than not it is a vital clue into figuring out something that the players in question haven't grasped yet.

This becomes the most apparent in Kumiko's relationship with Asuka, the band's vice-president. When Asuka plays the euphonium by herself, everything else falls still. The frame lingers on Kumiko listening to Asuka or else Asuka's face as she plays. We are given the sense that, whatever Asuka is expressing with her music, it is an honest, meaningful part of her that she does not let slip in other circumstances. Kumiko, more keyed into Asuka's double-rhythm than most, has the same impression and Asuka knows this. So in the ninth episode, when Kumiko says to Asuka that she loves her music and wants her to keep playing, she is also expressing a sincere desire to be with more of Asuka's “true” self. Asuka's private concert at the bridge that same episode is a payment of that very kind: a piece of herself for Kumiko alone.

But to imbue your playing with such a measure of yourself that it lets others know more about you, you have to become masterful in your craft first. What then, pushes these girls to become so much better than they are? Sound! Euphonium 2 hits two songbirds with one stone in answering this riddle, by solving the problem with another one: competition.

Mizore goes on record in the second episode as hating competition. Although that was because she thought the band's failure to win one resulted in a friend leaving her, her stated qualms with the practice are legitimate. Her worry and that of others is that the act of judging reduces what is actually a series of passionate attempts to communicate individual feelings to a single consumer product, one that is to be judged according to the whims of a few.

Their teachers, in their encouragement, attempt to disregard that reduction. The flamboyant Hashimoto-sensei tells them to sound like they're having so much fun he would get jealous not to be a on stage with them. Taki-sensei merely tells them to play in a way they will not regret. In either case, the specifically desired outcome is not a level of quality, but a fulfillment of expression by the band.

The most adamant response that Kitauji can muster is not dismissal, however, but outright confrontation. This brings us to perhaps the greatest triumph of Sound! Euphonium 2: the regional competition concert that takes up the entire second half of the fifth episode. Uninterrupted animation of feature film caliber, giving each and every member of the concert band a moment to shine, to show what they have been practicing so hard, even cutting to music books filled with Summer camp memories to show what it is they are playing for. In the previous episode, quick cuts were used to convey momentum or to create a sense of place for disparate dramatic players. Now, they are a desperate attempt by the direction to lend an ear to what these individual people simultaneously want us to hear.

Smack dab in the center of the piece is Reina's solo, which plays while the frame goes to Kumiko. It is for Kumiko Reina plays. The solo, by virtue of explicitly expressed intent and movie montage, becomes a musical symbol for all the times Reina has dazzled her. We see the night they spent together on Mt. Daikichiyama and the fireworks they saw together in the Summer, as Kumiko is reminded of them with each and every note.

Kitauji takes home the gold that day. To do so, Mizore, Reina, Kumiko, and every other member of the band pushed themselves beyond their limits to achieve a level of play that allows them to imbue their music with the expressive quality that is necessary to communicate their feelings. We can see it in each of the many, many cuts this scene: cheeks puff ever so slightly, fingering changes ever so precisely, even the tambourines are animated in an effort to capture the result of hundreds upon thousands of hours of dedication.

The extent to which the members of the Kitauji high school band express and read the emotive quality of their music, while never implied to be responsible for their better communication with their peers, is almost certainly correlated to it. Asuka, who has the most distinguished sound of the series, and Kumiko, with the most distinguished ear, are both the most empathic members of the band. Meanwhile, the second years, all talented and driven musicians, are primarily characterized by their relational attitudes. Nozomi “has ease with understanding difficult situations” (episode 2), Natsuki and Yuko are the antagonistic team mothers, and Mizore “has difficulty talking to people she doesn't know” (episode 4).

Sound! Euphonium 2 interweaves the lives of these many people through their shared pursuit, so that one high school band can come to embody the practice of art itself. It shows how all the practitioners of music in the Kitauji high school band push and pull on each other, the tonal, organizational, and personal sides to it all bleeding into each other. The way they play influences how the others in the praxis see them. How others see them affects their position in the band. Their position in the band affects how they play and so on and so forth, relationships and modes of music and people shifting and changing and shaping in response to each other.

Artistic talent, in the context of Sound! Euphonium 2, changes from something you have to something you do communally. Art is conversation and quality of play is not the goal, but the means. By bettering our art we become more fluent in living on the stage of life. The most lauded value of music, of talent, of effort itself becomes its potential for communication. Competition is both the inspiration for and none too gaudy display of that process of self-betterment. As such, the show celebrates it as a means to become better people in the world than we are, while denying the reduction competition imposes during its fulfillment.

The show further celebrates competition in a far more traditional manner: as a public display. Kumiko and Asuka are in one of many ways alike, in that they want a family member to hear them play. Specifically, they want the family member that got them to play music in the first place. The performance, in their case, becomes a symbol for many things, from what their family meant to them, to a demonstration of how far they have come in terms of talent, to an audible embodiment of themselves made manifest through that talent.

In every case, the point is that art is meant to communicate, sometimes things which cannot be expressed explicitly, easily or at all. Good art, the kind of art Sound! Euphonium is trying to be with all its might, expresses these feelings effectively. Next time, we will be looking more closely at the exact method of its sensitivity, as well as the larger context in which it places art. For now, give your favorite music another listen. See if you hear something new.

(part 2)

[szlachtas]

“God, tell me about it, it was terrible” Mar murmures, stuffing her hands back into the pockets of her hoodie in a way that’s almost a little smug. She stifles a laugh when they start talking about ghost hunters.

“No! That’s crazy! Ha! I think the fact that where I live is pretty isolated combined with the fact that most of them are more interested with the loch people used sacrificed lambs to means poor little me doesn’t get any credit” she sighs “being the local ghost story is such a hard career to break into these days”

“Mmm I got a little lucky with that one, it was a thing good kids were supposed to do so I got to do it. Ma was furious about the dirt but all it took to get those dresses dirty was standing in a slight breeze so I may as well have been doing something fun y’know?” Mar gazed at them with a deep sympathy, something obviously going through her head…though that immediately sours as he eats the berry. Despite that a smile plays at her lips “ha, now you’re just showing off, I hope it was sour” her words are tinged with laughter.

As soon as she sees their haven Mar’s eyes go wide in wonder. She gazes, taking in every detail. By the way she moves it’s obvious she wants to go explore but sticks at Ieuans side. She was a guest after all and these weren’t her wilds. When she finds words they’re distant with reverence.

“You certainly made the place your own. Its beautiful!”

As they open the door she twitches, fighting the urge to rear back a little at the movement. It was less the actual nature of the walls and more the fact that she, perhaps stupidly, hadn’t expected movement from them. She takes an unneeded breath, though in this form her sense of smell was abysmal, spending so much time as a dog had rather trained her to use that sense.

Mar was good at reading nerves in creatures in a verity of shapes. It was skill she’d learned after many kicks to the head and swipes to her face, and not just that but in some way she did understand. She was no stranger to being protective of something.

She turns to him before she enters and simply smiles, making an effort, as much as she could, to keep her fangs out of it this time.

“Thank you” she says and she means it.

The step she takes in is soft, her gait shifts, more graceful and aware like she was hunting. A stalk, almost, but it was less about not being heard and more about being conscious about leaving a mark.

'You can go and play in the garden later, if you want,' they call over their shoulder, 'I'll show you the hole into Jen's room so you don't get got.' 

They look a little spooked by her returned sincerity, laughing  nervously, 'Yep. We can just. Uh.' 

They reach out and run their hands down the walls as they set off. Their finger tips dip into the flesh like someone stroking the water surface on a lazy boat ride. Calming: them? the walls? Did it make a difference? 

The tunnel breaks off into a spiral staircase, which they head up. Climbing it is like climbing any staircase in an old castle -claustrophobic and liable to trip you on uneven stone. Panels of see through wall paper fashioned after the  tzimisce's own skin open where windows in the castle brick once indented; the small space behind them is backlit, abstract dioramas made of tiny twisting bones depict an imagined replacement outside. 

The stairs seem to go up another floor, but Ieuan ushers Mar off into a room to the side. 

A large, fleshy couch, shelves stacked with aging VCRs, a janky old TV on wheels, and a fairly new looking computer and desk in the corner indicate that this is is a room in which spare time is spent. All electricals are hooked up to a quietly humming generator next to the computer. The walls are plastered in large pencil sketches of inhuman anatomy: ideas and affectionate drawings from recent consensual vivisections both. The door on the other side of the room is half open; a workroom, stinking of raw meat, blood, and chemical cleaning agents.

Ieuan taps a palm against their forehead: stupid. They move over to the couch, picking up a plastic carton sitting at the foot of it, and brushing a scattering of dirt off of the pillowy pink surface and into the container. 

'Took a nap here the other night. Sorry,' they mutter. 

When it's clear, they set the dirt on top of the TV and fall into the couch, grinning. 

'Living room is in here, workroom is over there. Gotta go through there and down some stairs and it'll take you to the crypt or the dungeon. Back down where we just came from is storage, you could get lost down there,' they nod their head towards the room in the tower just above, 'up there is my office. If you go in there I'll kill you. Heads up.'

@szlachtas I’m here, you’ll know it’s me on the account that I’m a dog in the nearest patch of bushes I could find.

[mylife-foryours]

oc q’s for my favorite dark council member :3

(cw for Much Worse Than Canon-Typical Gore, canon-typical everything else)

How old are they? 17 during the Sith Inquisitor prologue, 20 by the time she makes Darth.

What gender are they? MMhnuh... girl-adjacent

What is their romantic/sexual orientation? It’s Complicated. Not much in the way of gender preference beyond being warier around men than she is around non-men (she’s pretty much always got her guard up, though, so the difference is actually pretty minor), not much in the way of sexual attraction either.

How tall are they? 5′3

What do they look like? Short n curvy, warm brown skin, long black hair. She cuts it at several points, but it grows back pretty fast.

What are their defining features? Pronounced aquiline nose, bright orange/amber eyes, high cheekbones.

Does their name have a meaning? Meant as a nod to the author of Divine Comedy, and about a year later I found out that it can also refer to “a tempo of moderate speed.” Pronounced like this and means either gift or tithe in Zabraki, depending on which syllable you stress.

What family do they have? She isn’t in contact with her biological family - halfway assumes that they died, mostly doesn’t care. About a year after she becomes a Darth, Fene and Mako help her track her parents down, and the reunion goes... well, about as well as you’d expect.

Do they have a good relationship with their family? No.

If not, why not? Her parents (Balmorran farm boy who Wanted To See The Galaxy and ex-Mandalorian ex-con) left her with her father’s extended family when she was around six, and she was on the streets of Sobrik by the time she was eight. Wartime food shortages are a bad time to be saddled with a child you don’t really want.

Where do they live? She moves around more than she’d like, but home is a compound on Korriban.

Is it a safe place? About as safe as anywhere is for someone who’s made as many enemies as she has.

Are they poor, middle-class or wealthy? Pretty wealthy.

Do they look up to anyone? Hmmmm... once she got high enough up on the food chain to learn what actually happened, she admired Exal Kressh. There are a lot of times when she thinks that going out in a blaze of glory would be a much better option than her long game of espionage and power struggles. At least she wouldn’t have to keep wondering.

Who is their best friend? Fene.

Do they have any enemies? Sixty percent of the Sith Empire, on a good day.

Who is the person they hate most in the world? Hrrhm. Generally speaking, probably Vitiate, because he’s the one who’s responsible for creating the empire that ground her home into dust and sold her like chattel, but he’s pretty distant, so it’s more of an abstract hatred. Probably Darth Thanaton, both because he makes no secret of his contempt for her origins, and because she can’t get a good foothold in his Sphere.

Do they have any love/hate relationships? O R R O

Have they ever fallen in love? ... Kind of? She’s sort of in love with Orro, and it’s not exactly romantic, but it’s not exactly platonic either. She also ends up romancing Arcann (would've romanced Vaylin if you weren’t railroaded into killing her), because I like the symmetry of Terrible Murder-Cyborgs Who Are Only Mostly Redeemed Trying To Become Better People Together.

Who is the person they love the most in the world? Orro.

Does that person love them back? Yes, but Orro is also a loved-I-not-honor-more Colonel in the Grand Army of the Republic, and has tried to capture/kill her on multiple occasions. An’Dante kind of knows that she was right to, which only makes things worse between them.

Have they ever hurt or lost anyone? She kind of hurts people as a career, but specifically, she stabbed Orro in the back with her own vibroknife, and Orro has, understandably, never really trusted her again.

Are they a good shoulder to cry on? ... kind of? She’s a good listener, and the kind of friend who offers to strangle your ex with their own intestines.

Are they well liked? Not.... really? She has a sizeable power base, but that’s more a consequence of shared goals and her own political acumen (blackmail. so much blackmail.)

How do they handle being complimented? Reasonably well? As long as it’s coming from someone she trusts, she’ll be a bit surprised at first, but thank them sincerely. She likes being praised by everyone - there’s part of her that was even vying for Harkun’s favor - but if someone like Darth Mortis were to compliment her cunning, her response would be a sneering “How would you recognize cunning if you saw it?”

Are they an affectionate person? Not really. She has a very small number of people she cares about, and sees them... pretty rarely. Even then, she’s had some remarkably harsh object lessons about showing affection, and it’s only gotten more dangerous for people to know who she cares about.

Are they very driven? She would’ve died a very long time ago if she wasn’t.

Are they very political? She’s literally wiped out entire family lines over politics, so yeah.

What kind of state is the world that they live in? Cosmic tug-of-war between corrupt ineffective bureaucracy and totalitarian fascist theocracy.

What are the world leaders like? She’s one of them, and the fact that she’s one of the better ones is... really all that needs to be said on the matter.

Does the character worry about their place in society? Constantly. She’s a former slave who’s currently playing half the Dark Council off against the other half, and if just about anyone catches on to what she’s trying to do, the best thing she can hope for is execution-by-vivisection.

If they could change one thing, what would it be? Convince Orro to join her.

Do they like themselves? ... Not really? There are things she’s quite arrogant about, but she doesn’t think that she’s a good person. A necessary person, sure, but that’s not the same thing.

Are they a good person? Not remotely.

Are they very forgiving? No.

Do they believe in destiny? Sometimes she’s afraid that she does. Fairly standard prophetangst over the ontological implications of foreknowledge.

Are they trustworthy? No.

Are they a good liar? Yes. She has to be.

How do they react to criticism? Poorly. She’s arrogant, bitchy, and has a chip on her shoulder the size of the Magellanic Cloud.

What is their moral alignment? Neutral Evil.

Can they fight? Yes, but she’s more of an assassin than a brawler.

Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? Greatest Hits of the horrible things she’s done to other people’s bodies include:

Boiling eyes with lightning

Force-choking to the point of death and/or permanent brain injury

Decapitation

Smothering with own lung tissue

Stabbing out eyes with broken pieces of finger bones

Have they ever been seriously injured? Mmmm. Aside from the Force Ghost-backlash, an infected burn/brand nearly killed her when she was about twelve.

Do they know first aid? Not... really. She can cauterize wounds with her lightsaber, but that’s about it. She’s shit at force healing, too.

Do they have any other survival skills? Not as far as, like, wilderness survival is concerned. She knows some of the basics of putting up camp, and she could probably survive in the deserts on Korriban for... maybe a week, without outside assistance. Maybe a bit longer, depending on how much she could draw on the Force.

Are they a fast learner? She’s had to be.

How intelligent are they? Pretty intelligent. She’s fluent in multiple languages, well-read (esp. for someone who was illiterate for the first 17 years of her life), and good at long-term strategy to the point that she can outplay men several times her age in espionage.

What is the school system like? The Korriban Academy was pretty awful. Remember the scene from Ender’s Game, where Graff singles Ender out as a target for like. petty cruelty and isolation. That, but the students are actively encouraged to kill each other.

What is their job? On paper, her job is overseeing the Assassin’s Pyramid. In practice, her power base also includes significant fractions of Military Strategy (mostly to keep tabs on Orro, shhhh), Sith Philosophy (useful for keeping her reformist tendencies on the down-low and painting rivals as heretics), and Imperial Intelligence.

Do they enjoy their job? Kind of. Even if she tells herself that it’s for the greater good, she knows that she’s complicit in some horrible things. Still, the intellectual challenge of it, and the ability to blindside Sith traditionalists with her cunning because no-one thinks that a simple slave could outplay them... there’s a thrill to it.