#I should be at pop's romancing the owner's granddaughter

[mean-vampyre]

Imagine jughead trying to do linkedin. He would've killed himself. Coward.

[molnlycke]

100 DAYS OF SUNLIGHT BY ABBIE EMMONS REVIEW

As a disclaimer I want to say that I found the Youtube channel of Abbie Emmons by one of her ‘write with me’ videos. Following that I watched some of her WritersLifeWednesdays vlogs and thought, this woman has tremendous passion and work put into her craft. She actually gives valuable advice, and the themes of her videos are pretty good. So when I saw that she has a novel of her own published, I wanted to see how she incorporates the stuff she talks about into practical work. This is how I started reading her debut novel: 100 Days of Sunlight.

I was curious, okay?

But oh man, what is this?

This book… I’m sorry it’s just so bad. The mess of glaring problems, plotholes, the …characterisation. Abbie Emmons says every good story is character driven (which I wholeheartedly stand by if it is executed well!!!) but what should I get from this, honestly?

There are too many things screaming PROBLEMATIC here.

But let’s start at the beginning.

The exposition––the first chapter’s building don’t make no sense. It has a twist in it alright, but why start with something that turns out to be a dream (or a scrap of a memory in this case) of the actual past, only to get dumped with everything else that also happened following that scene? All of this is told from the protagonist’s reminiscing of said happening.

- To be clear the book starts with the scene of an accident–the accident in which the protagonist, Tessa loses her sight. A drunk driver with a pickup truck runs the red light crashing into the car Tessa and her grandmother are in. Soon it turns out that’s only a recurring nightmare and she’s been home for one or two weeks (maybe? I don’t remember precisely). By this time she has already lost her sight. Tessa runs the audience over all that happened after the accident (basically in those weeks she got discharged from the hospital etc. etc.) Now my question is why not start the book from the accident itself? It all gets narrated either way.

The next problem is the way first Tessa’s grandparents, and then the WHOLE BOOK just downplays consent. Why? Why would you do that?

- Tessa’s grandparents “know better what’s good for her than she does”–that’s an actual quote from the novel btw. Nothing glaringly alerting in that, I mean adults often have this way of thinking about children. Until… they try to arrange a stranger to help Tessa with transcribing her work. Tessa is a poet with a blog where she posts her work on schedule. Ever since the accident, she doesn’t feel like writing (or blogging for that matter). She’s shut herself off from the virtual world, doesn’t touch her laptop, nor speaks with her internet friends. (Because ofc she’s homeschooled, doesn’t like to go out at all and only has internet friends in the first place.) She’s in her room for most of the day, cries a lot and tries to cope. Whether her coping is good or bad I’m not qualified to say, but she thinks of herself as selfish, lazy, cynical, and depressed most of the time––everything she never wanted to be, things hates with every fibre of her being. She blames herself and basically detests life for beating her down to the ground. She feels she can’t get up even though she’s told, her blindness is a condition that can go away in ninety-something days’ time. I think feeling these emotions are pretty reasonable for a teenager. It’s been like three weeks since the accident, and her newfound blind perspective of life. That can’t be easy. BUT her grandparents know this isn’t healthy, Tessa needs to write. “I haven’t written one verse, one line, one word of poetry. I have no desire to. I have no inspiration, no joy. It’s all gone.” - Tessa from ch.1 So what do Granny and Gramps do following their infinite wisdom? Play the girl. And I’m like, sure dude, harass the child into doing what you want. Sure, don’t try to get her professional help or a psychotherapeutist or something if you think she’s faring so terribly. Sure, run an ad for hiring some part timer to transcribe for the poet who doesn’t want to write anymore. Sure, do it all behind her back. I mean she has PTSD and is blind for now, but yeah, this will most definitely help. Good job! For goodness’ sake they treat the girl like she’s been locked inside her room for months?!

When they share this brilliant plan with Tessa, she freaks out so much the elderly retract the ad. But not before the son of the newspaper’s owner gets a scrap of this new, possible past time activity and decides to be a creep and essentially stalk Tessa. But that’s for later.

Tessa explicitly tells her grandparents she doesn’t want to meet new people, doesn’t want to write, what she needs is time. So the next thing Granny does is pushes an unknown, teenage boy into her blind granddaughter’s room for a chat. Against Tessa’s repeated objections! There’s so much nonsense going on in the sequence of the story. Like one day there comes a boy–a stranger, knocking on the door, saying he’s this and this’ son and wants to help. And because, at a glance, he has prosthetic legs, you invite him first into the house then into your blind teenage granddaughter’s room? Without actually knowing if he is who he says he is? Without knowing the first thing about him? But even if that part is true, and he is who he says–the son of the newspaper’s owner, let’s not forget the mildly stalkerish way the guy’s been acting.

Granny shares a shit load about Tessa’s problems, then flat out tells her to meet Weston. “I told you I don’t want help. And I certainly don’t want anyone touching my laptop. I don’t want to write. I don’t want some stranger coming into my house and feeling sorry for me!” That’s Tessa speaking with Granny prior to the meeting. I mean it’s no biggie if she’s against the whole idea because he could help, right? Is this the American way of handling things? Someone give me a spoon that I can boink myself in the head with to get around this type of mentality.

At the first meeting Tessa has meltdown, screams at Weston and cries. Tells him she doesn’t need help. Tells him not to bother. Tells him she wants him OUT OF HER ROOM. Weston leaves before telling her he’ll be back the next day. And Granny and everyone else is fine with that. So in the following days the nuisance has the audacity to come over, small-talk the grandparents into loving him because he’s so charming everyone is in love with him a little. (That’s another thing from the book, I shit you not, the dude straight up thinks things like this. Yes, I know it’s self-deceit.) Weston forcibly takes over Tessa’s room which is basically the last place she feels comfortable at? Never mind, now someone’s popping in randomly when they think it’s cool, telling her what to do––“I know you don’t need me. But you need to write.” Bitch I think you need to fuck off from people’s lives who don’t want you in it. Just an advice.

One time Tessa wakes up to Weston barging into her room (“...he walks into my room without knocking, at 9.00 a.m., when I’m still in my pajamas”). Granny’s off to do her things leaving the boy to stay and make himself at home. Huh, quite reasonable.

Weston forces Tessa to accept there’s no fleeing this situation––one, the three of them (him and the oldies) constructed for her. Because it’s helping.

That’s basically the question of: where’s the line between wanting to help someone and pushing them even deeper when they’re already at a bad place. But since this is a YA romance everything is nice and good and sorted at the end so Tessa can thank her loving family for forcing their volition on her.

- Here’s another lovely example of consent portrayed in the novel: “I told you I don’t want to go outside.” Weston laughs. “You also told me to get out of your house and never come back.” “And you directly disobeyed my wishes.” “And you’ve been enjoying it...” Please tell me I’m not the only one seeing what’s wrong with this whole dialogue. It’s so disappointing and frankly, discouraging, to see an attitude like this written by a woman, targeted at a young, female audience.

- Oh, there’s their first kiss as well. It’s really really romantic. Weston asks for permission then doesn’t wait for the answer! “I’m gonna kiss you. Is that okay?” It’s not fair, because I don’t give her any time to reply. Instead, I press my lips against hers. Without permission.” ...So why did he even bother to ask? To seem nice? Well, as the saying goes it’s the thought that counts… So is this how consent works? NO! But consent never stood a chance in this book at the first place.

Next up; Characters.

*not @me side-eyeing Abbie’s video about how to craft a strong female protagonist* - I’m not gonna say a lot about Tessa. For me she falls flat like a cut-out. She’s paper thin, and dumb, although she’s the novel’s protagonist. Funny though, I feel she has less to give to the story than Weston, and it’s not just the length of their respective chapters. There’s like 600-700 words from Tessa’s POV (mainly about Weston 80% of the times), then we get a 4k word count chapter from Weston (mainly about his own journey and overcoming his struggles). Tessa’s chapters are either shallow or about her time spent with Weston. Opposed to this Weston has a full arc of him getting over the loss of his legs and standing up from it (quite literally). See what I’m talking about? All I get from Tessa before the accident is that she’s a writer, homeschooled, likes her colour coordinated books, and waffles (like Abbie ha!) (*whispers* and she wears her hair in a messy bun, ofc she does). Oh and she can’t live without WiFi. All I get after the accident is that she’s hurting, angry and blind. And now she has Weston. So her backstory is…..?

- Weston. Oh man where to start. Now he has a backstory. From it we can conclude how idiotic he is. That’s not recklessness or being a teenage boy. I’m sorry but his behaviour is simply idiotic. Sometimes he’s really grown up (taking care of his baby brothers and all) other times he has like 1 (one) braincell operating in his head. Bearing weeks of pain, and not saying anything about it to anyone because that’s not superhero like? WHAT??? He experienced, at the least, three weeks of torturous pain and several days of fever and dizziness, popping Advil like it’s candy. Still, the only one who realised this is his best friend at school and his 10 year old brother who was at the scene of Weston injuring his legs in the first place. What about the parents one might ask. Well Idk. Obviously a 13 year old is so good at deception and sneaking around that adults can’t catch on! On this note I want to gift Parents of the Year Award to Mamma and Pappa Ludovico. With parental supervision like that I’m baffled the child lived up to the age 13.

Weston is the nightmare male lead people usually salivate after in k-dramas stuffed into the body of a 16 year old American boy. Now I’ve never understood those people and their preferences of the bratty, entitled, but oh-so-handsome males and I still don’t understand to this day. Where’s the appeal? Don’t ask me.

I’ll just put down some quotes: “It’s the first time in three years anyone has ever met me without that look of pity on their face. The first time anyone has ever looked at me and not seen me. The first time anyone has stood before me—with perfectly normal legs—and complained about their own problem. The feeling is exhilarating.” So basically this is the so called ‘No one has ever treated me like this. Except this girl, my God, she’s intriguing’. Weston enjoys Tessa’s rude behaviour. “So she’s stubborn. She’s rude. She’s a spitfire wallflower who lost her sight and now hates anyone who tries to help her. Game on.” ...Are you five? “Tessa is the only Dickinson who doesn’t like me.” I have no idea why that could be. But, listen, listen: “I turn around in the desk chair, throwing her a hard look over my shoulder. She’s still sitting rigid and stoic on her bed, staring at nothing. She’s actually really pretty. Her eyes are bluer than mine—the enhanced kind of blue you see in contact lens commercials. She has freckles, too. Just a few, thrown across her nose and cheeks. Her hair is braided today, less messy. She looks so serious. I liked it better when she was screaming and crying.” Idk somehow this sounds like every badly composed romance I’ve ever seen. Let’s just say the progression of the relationship between Weston and Tessa infuriated me 90% of the story. You can help others without being an ass. You can also help others without being a horrible love interest, but that’s for another day. YA contemporaries don’t work like that.

Oh Weston, what a knight in shining armour. Three years prior, he had this thing with Clara Hernandez–a girl from school. It wasn’t real dating but they spent some time together (he walked her to class ooooh~~~) so she became “at the time, my unofficial girlfriend”. Things change after Weston’s accident, of course. He tells her he doesn’t want to continue their ambiguous relationship. And that’s alright, it’s his choice, BUT he then kind of passes the girl to his best friend, so she won’t annoy him anymore? The way he narrates the whole thing is...ugh. “But she wasn’t even dumping me, and we weren’t even dating. We were thirteen years old, for crying out loud.” See, this is Weston thinking about what happened. And this is him telling Rudy about it: “What were you talking to Clara about?” he (Rudy) asked. “I dumped her.” Following in another chapter they talk about how now that the coast is clear––Weston and Clara are through, Rudy should hit on Clara: “He wanted to resist the whole thing and deny his obvious crush on Clara Hernandez. But he couldn’t do anything except laugh and shake his head. He knew I was the best friend he could ever ask for.” Such a kind and caring person for handing out the girl he doesn’t really want to his best friend. Give him a medal for that one. Idk this whole business irked me to no end, like Clara was his possession or something. (Yeah, and the poor girl eventually ended up with Rudy, not like she had any other choice…)

- Downplaying female friendship. Yeah, that one happens as well. When Tessa talks with her friends (her blogging circle) the only thing we as readers can glimpse about their conversation is “Tell us more about the boy,” like... really? Because once again that’s the only thing a group of friends can talk about when one of them suffers an accident resulting in trauma. And Tessa’s answer? “At first, I didn’t like him. I thought he didn’t understand anything about me—even though he acted like he did. And I’m not sure that he understands much, even now. But he’s kind. And patient. And he kept coming back to type poetry for me, so I’ve kind of been forced to make friends with him.” The reply of her friends… “Aw ... He sounds really cute.” Yeah, really cute, forcing you to be friends with him. “How can you not be in love with a boy who makes you waffles?” Well, friend no.5, it’s not that hard… But there’s more. After Tessa gets her sight back the only thing we get from this supporting bubble of warm friends is as follows: “LIV: TESSA HOW ARE YOU FEELING ME: a lot better actually ME: my headache FINALLY went away MARIA: yayy!! ALLISON: PRAISE THE LORD ME: yeah fr KATE: So glad to hear you’re doing better, Tessa! It must be quite a transition omg… GRACIE: I can’t even imagine ME: it’s been pretty crazy ME: but good ME: I guess ME: ugh idk mixed emotions LIV: ???? LIV: TELL US EVERYTHING LIV: if u want to lol ME: ahhh well ME: Weston is kind of not talking to me anymore,” That is it my friends. Two to three sentences about her condition and it’s time to talk about the boy. Is this really how shallow anyone would want to describe the protagonist and her close-knit group of friends talking for the first time after one of them lost their sight? Then again, talking for the first time after she got her sight back? I’m disappointed to say the least.

- I didn’t care for any other character enough to jot down my observations. They were bland, they were there to help the main couple, nothing more, nothing less. Weston’s kid brothers were cute and Rudy seemed like a normal, sane character (I applaud him for that). All I can say is the families in this novel are something else.

The romance.

Okay, let me state before anything else: I like romance if there’s balance. I like romance when the people involved are equals. I believe a relationship, and a good one at that, should have cornerstones. One of them has to be that equality. It also doesn’t hurt if none of the involved parties are assholes. The romance can be of any trope as long as the happy ending is tied to said relationship being healthy. And I don’t mean sorely the end product; the way that relationship is constructed step by step should resemble these things. If not, at least call them out for it. I’m not the advocate of perfect characters or relationships (any kind, not just romance) because that would be really unrealistic. It can be bad, yeah, it can be toxic, or a little messed up in the middle. But for crying out loud reflect that in the storytelling! Do it especially if the story is planned for a younger audience! Now let me make another statement: What I don’t like is that in mostly American YA het-romances there are rarely any of these things.

- This one here is probably supposed to be the writer’s well liked trope of hate-to-love romance, but I feel the concept of kindergarteners is more fitting. The boy forces, the girl yields. But it’s okay because he likes her and wants to help.

There are some cases of harassment sprinkled in, as in one party objecting the other’s closeness or presence and the latter not giving a damn about this. Real respectful; but, hey, that’s part of consent too so I guess it simply flew over our heads in this particular story. A fresh and original concept on romance, wholesome and healthy. And the thing is, Weston actually knows these things. He literally says so in the book, “...until I intruded on Tessa’s life, however it happened.”

And of course Tessa is more pure than fresh snow on white lillies; she’s basically a lotus. Weston is the first boy stepping into her room. Give me a second to freak out about that. It’s so exciting! (Mostly by knowing the circumstances in which he did that.)

The other thing that annoyed me was Weston’s entitlement and holier-than-thou attitude. He knows everything better than Tessa. He knows Tessa better than she herself does WHEN HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW THE FIRST THING ABOUT HER. That’s the moral of the story. No, but I’m not kidding, some of his thoughts set me on fire. “She wrote about sunlight and oceans and falling in love, when I’m pretty sure she has no idea what it feels like to fall in love.” I’m sorry, but do you know Tessa? (besides stalking her via the grandparents)???? The audacity, I’m cackling.

- Can someone tell me why Tessa speaks with Weston if she doesn’t want to? I mean besides that this way the story can go on. She actually starts their conversation on the second day. Me, personally, don’t talk to people whose presence I can barely tolerate. How silly, I know.

- Weston annoys the shit put of Tessa for like five minutes but he talks to her, (for his own selfish reasons may I add––Weston, honey, if you want people not to pity you try helping blind little kids who actually want your help) and brings her flowers, and chocolate so I guess it’s reasonable that approximately four days later Tessa’s attitude shifts to comparing him to sunlight. “Weston is everything And all at once. Weston is gentle And harsh. Weston can be blindingly bright But then he can also be Delicately soft. Weston is a paradox.” – Oof girl.

- Let me tell you kids just because someone annoys or teases you and you tolerate it––that’s not the get-go to life changing love. Even though he’s the first real life boy whom you’ve ever spent casual time with. But he’s the first boy who ever showed you real attention, you say. Well then, that’s a grace girls have to accept. Or so this book and so many others try to make us believe. The sad thing is, there actually could’ve been a conflict––if one wants to write about opposites attracting each other so much––without making the story so cliched and weak.

Plot-holes.

- Maybe it’s nitpicking for some, BUT… why was Weston in his dad’s office in the first place? I never got around to the reason of that. He loiters around there once a week, that’s what the book states. Well, okay, he is there inspecting the motivational quotes collection on the wall while his father just works away. And am I supposed to believe the man is all cool with this? What is Weston doing there? For what reason? The answer is easy: he simply had to hear the phone call of Tessa’s grandfather retracting the ad.

- Now why does his father–the owner of the newspaper–accept calls regarding ads in the first place? Is this really how things work? Other employees do nothing? I’ve worked at a small printing company in the past. The management only accepted calls regarding ads if there wasn’t a single soul anywhere near the perimeter of the office. There’s a department for jobs like this. Bosses don’t qualify.

- About the already mentioned beautiful first meeting, where sparks fly, and the lovely couple can roll off a great start... If Tessa didn’t want to meet anyone why didn’t she lock her door? That’s a pretty easy task. At first I thought maybe there’s no lock on the door. But wait; after the disastrous meeting she locks herself away. “The door is locked, and Grandma has stopped trying to open it.” Sooo there was a lock after all…...okay…….

- Why is almost everyone in this book freckled with blonde hair and blue eyes? Okay, this really is just nitpicking, but like, is there some symbolism in that? *bounces eyebrows* Ehem, if you know what I mean.

- I’m not sure if this is an actual plot-hole but I was really surprised by the lack of anxiety Weston’s approach triggered in Tessa. Essentially, Weston is a stranger at the start of the book, with whom she gets locked into a room, without anyone else in there, when she’s still adjusting to the fact she can’t see. I especially looked out for it; Weston closes her door every time he’s over at their house to speak with her. I mean the first time she’s angry; but what about later? She doesn’t even seem nervous or affected by this at a time when her blindness is still fresh. Yet, when they go to Barnes & Noble, a public space with people around, Tessa is anxious the minute Weston leaves for a bathroom break. Like okay, some strange dude tries to pick her up and she’s rightfully terrified, but all she has to do is call out. Now both of these scenes are pressuring and scary, but where’s the difference? Tessa is nervous when the stranger approaches her in the book store, a big and open space with people around even before said stranger tries to initiate skinship. She tells him to leave her alone. But she did just that when Weston first went to see her. And Weston didn’t give a shit about it, much like the high schooler at the book store. And I’m supposed to believe with Weston she wasn’t apprehensive at all? Of course she wasn’t… he’s the love interest.

The whole book store scene makes me so uncomfortable and NOT because of what you’d think. It’s simply distasteful to create a scenario like that only to draw it back to… yes, you guessed it, Weston. He’s the saviour sweeping Tessa off her feet with “Get your hands off my girl” and chasing away that jerk. Why is it that still, in the year of *looks at smudged handwriting on hand* sometime past the 1890s there’s the need to use The Jerk™ hitting on the girl and The Nice Guy™ saving her by making her seem like his property? Oh did I forgot to mention the jerk smelled like cigarettes, and his pants were falling off his ass. I’m surprised he wasn’t wearing a leather jacket or had piercings just to fit the look to a T. That usage of my girl ...ugrghgh I can already feel white hairs sprouting from this. Look, I’m not against the idea of belonging to your beloved. If you want to say it, cool, do it. But when it’s not consensual, and you’re not a couple who already expressed to one another the wish to be viewed that way maybe DON’T FUCKING USE IT. Not to one up another guy trying scare the baddie away. Man, don’t do that. *channelling my inner LE to rap the last line really loud* What’s even better than this? Tessa’s reaction: “Despite the gravity of the situation, I can’t help but smile and get butterflies all over again.” REALLY???? Please donate braincells to this girl. She really needs it.

The dynamic of relationships.

- This is mind bogging for me. Almost all relations (excluding the most fundamental ones) serve a sole reason: cheer on and make the main couple happen. This book is promoted as a love story, one, not limited to romance. It’s a love story of family bonds, love between brothers, and grandparents, and friends. And that’s true for Weston… but for Tessa??? I don’t think so. But maybe that stems from how underdeveloped Tessa’s character is.

- The main couple’s dynamic is so stilted. Weston basically caused the state he is in, Tessa suffered an accident caused by outer circumstances. She’s the victim of a drunk driver, while quite frankly, Weston’s the victim of his own stupidity. And yet, since Weston decided to fight for himself he expects Tessa to do the same. Now that’s a nice thought, even if it’s about someone you barely know and met maybe two times in your life. Is that a reason to harass the other and tell them what to do, not taking no for an answer? I highly doubt it. Weston wanted to get better so he pressed himself, but he made that choice himself. It’s beautifully written down not once, not twice, but multiple times; how hard it was for him to choose between 1, the easy way––the flat grounded desert and 2, the hard scaling and rocky mountain range. He chose the mountain range and that’s admirable. What’s not admirable is, that from what I get from this book, Tessa never had the luxury of a choice. Because other’s never gave her time or let her decide for herself. Tessa says Weston is stubborn and obnoxiously optimistic. I think he’s just obnoxious, period.

- At the end of the book Tessa narrates how ashamed she feels and how her heart is breaking “Because of what Life has done to Weston.” For one, is Life responsible for what happened to Weston? I’d liked to read about how Weston tells the story of losing his legs to Tessa with a straight face, because all thorough the book he never once did that. To anyone. If that happened, he ought to admit how incredibly stupid he had been. As well as the consequences of his own decisions, every time he went on without saying a word or asking for help. That stubbornness is his character trait. Yes, it is, but we never get to see how that affected his family, there wasn’t one paragraph about his parents talking about it with him.

- On this note why is Tessa always so ashamed, feeling like she’s the brute, saying sorry to everyone at every chance? It’s not like others apologised to her once. This character trait only perpetuates the notion how everything others impose on her is fair trade because they only want to help. And either way, she only feels apologetic about standing up for herself.

Mentions of notable things that annoyed me.

- The judgement if a girl need makeup or not, because *banging pots and pans* she’s beautiful no matter what in the boy’s eyes. And he tells her just that. “Are you wearing makeup?” I ask, without thinking. Tessa smiles just a little. “Yeah,” she says. “Grandma helped me with it. This feels like… a special occasion.” “You don’t need it, you know. You look beautiful without it. But you look beautiful with it, too. You always look beautiful. Even when you’re crying.” Tessa really needed to know your opinion about her wearing makeup Weston. Kudos for you for telling her she doesn’t need it because she looks beautiful without it, but it’s okay to wear it as she looks beautiful with it too. Great input man!

- At this point I’m not even surprised, but there really was the girl staring at something, asking if it’s pretty. (Okay, Tessa couldn’t stare but she was probably imagining––here it’s the sundown, bc of the whole sunlight theme). Then the boy answering, “Yeah, it’s pretty.” Not as pretty as you, he thinks while staring straight at her. Hello, is this a Disney production?

Conclusion.

All in all is this the worst book ever? No. Are there unforgivable problems with it? Not explicitly.

My biggest problem is what message it sends about relationship patterns, patterns I hate with a fiery passion. It’s the same old shit I grew up with, and it’s the same old shit that doesn’t seem to change after twenty years. Not even now when,––with the help of the era of internet––everyone is suddenly so woke. But are they, really? All I saw about this novel is the raving reviews praising it to heavens. And there are themes in it that deserve praise––the acceptance of one’s self, the loss, the forgiveness, the overcoming of hardships of life––but what about all that’s left? What about the execution?

Bottom line is, because this is a book, everything gets resolved and all is happy and fine at the end. However in real life, coercing others to do things against their will isn’t a glorious idea. Disregarding consent isn’t acceptable. Helping with the stubbornness of a mule isn’t really helping. And last but not least, perpetuating a mindset and a budding relationship like the one presented in this book––for a young audience shouldn’t be okay.

[tales-of-a-fallen-star]

Forgotten Memories (Ignis Scientia/Reader)

Words: 5699 Genre: angst, fluff, romance Rating: SFW

tagging some peeps: @ponkita @amicitonia @ka-za-ri @kawaiinekorose @birdsandivory @kerbiesworld28 @alicemoonwonderland and @hypaalicious (Please let me know whether you’d like to be tagged in the future or not)

A/N: Well, hello there, look who’s posting a fic again after approximately 5 years. Yeah, I’m finally done with this. I was inspired to write this when I played Comrades, hence why it’s set during that time range. Although it’s still a reader insert I wanted to give the 3rd person narrative a try. I just want to quickly point out that I’m not a fan of this whole Y/N thing (at least not in my stuff) and that’s why I simply left blanks. Finally, I do want to apologise that this thing turned out so long (especially the exposition for some reason) but I do hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Huge thanks to @atarostarling for proofreading and editing this, otherwise this thing would be even more of a mess.

She stepped outside of the tent where all the glaives rested after returning from a mission. Her head felt fuzzy, she knew that she dreamed something – about her past perhaps? – but the images faded away as soon as she woke up, too quickly for her to remember anything more specific. She stretched out her limbs, a small sigh of satisfaction leaving her lips, and she looked around the area which used to be one of the market places of Lestallum. She tried to remember exactly how she ended up here in the first place.

It was about four weeks ago that she was found by Libertus Ostium, a kind man who told her what she longed to know ever since she found herself aimlessly walking around the vast lands of Lucis. All these months she didn't know where she came from or who she was. The only hint that indicated anything about her or her past was an intricate engraving on one of her kukris, which she carried with her since the moment she found herself somewhere on the outskirts of Leide.

‘For hearth and home and the fire that only burns for you’

She didn't know what it meant, no matter how much she tried to rummage through her mind  for any information or memories, there was just nothing. It seemed as if there was a dark mist covering up her memories. She wasn’t even sure if the engraving actually meant something, but she clung to the hope that someone who must have been very fond of her gifted the kukris to her. Within that hope was a cruel reminder of how truly alone she was in this world.

She had no one to help her or take care of her when she was in danger, especially with the daemons around at night. She soon had to come to terms with fighting them if she had to and was surprised when her muscles and limbs seemed to act on their own as she slashed her way through the hordes of daemons all by herself. Based on her forgotten instincts, she figured that she must have some sort of combat training. Her skills were how she kept herself afloat, fighting monsters and daemons, accepting hunts to earn some gil now and then, always hoping she would stumble across anyone that knew or recognised her. Slowly but steadily that hope began to gnaw on her and turned into the opposite, dragging her spirits down underground and burying her determination and endurance along with them. And then, when the long night began, she couldn't help but feel as if she was drowning. Drowning in this endless pit of hopelessness and sorrow, making her want to succumb to the darkness and the daemons around her. Tired and exhausted, she was about to give up, to give in to the darkness, but something inside her told her to not lose hope. A voice made her keep going. It was only mere moments later that she saw bright lights coming her way and someone calling out to her.

And now here she was, in the middle of Lestallum, home to all refugees and to those without memories. For her it was still like waking up in a strange land she knew nothing about. Libertus told her she used to be a member of the Kingsglaive, a force installed by the late King Regis Lucis Caelum, and that she must've escaped the fall of Insomnia relatively unharmed - apart from the amnesia, obviously.

Those names meant nothing to her. Her lack of memory only made her feel alone and helpless again, even though she was now surrounded by like-minded and kind people who took good care of her. Yet despite what the people seemed to know, nobody was able to tell her who she was, not even the Immortal himself seemed to know anything about her. Neither did the other glaives, who suffered some partial amnesia like herself, though some of them mentioned that she looked somewhat familiar to them. It restored some of her hope, but she didn't want to cling too much to it. Deep down in her heart, she was certain that somewhere out there someone must be looking for her... right?

Trying to not get lost in thought she stretched out a bit more and decided to see if she could be of assistance to anyone. Her eyes roamed the area and it didn't take too long before she could find a suitable task for her. She began walking towards the working station a few metres away from the tent where Cid Sophiar, a kind and old man who she got along with very well, was already working and tinkering away like a maniac.

“Hey Cid, need any help with that?”

“Mornin' sweepea. Would you be so kind and gimme that wrench over there?” Cid responded in an affectionate voice, which he only used when talking to her. For some reason he was really fond of her, the old mechanic always said that this lost girl reminded him of his granddaughter Cindy.

She made quick work of handing Cid the requested utensil before she let out a squeaky yawn.

“Last mission been hard on you, huh? You slept like a rock these past ten-odd hours.” He smiled.

“What? Ten hours? Wow... I guess the trip to the Disc and back really took a toll on me.” The glaive responded in disbelief that she had slept that long.

“Cauthess, eh? I reckon it can be a helluva trip, with all these daemons runnin' about and such. But, mind if I ask, have ya made it out to Leide ever since you settled in here?” the mechanic inquired.

“No, I'm afraid not, but Monica mentioned something about an escort mission from Galdin Quay all the way back here. She asked me if I was up for it, but I haven't decided on it yet.”

“I think ya should do it. I know a fella who went out there, said somethin’ about goin' fishin' to get his nutrition. Name's ‘Ignis', ever heard of him before?”

That name stirred something in the back of her mind. A strange feeling of familiarity went through her, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why that was.

“No, I don't think so,” she replied.

“He's one of them Crownsguards that used to travel with the Prince. He ain't doing too well these days. Maybe if ya should happen to take on that mission just give him a holler and tell him that old Cid sent ya, maybe lend him a hand or somethin',”

She contemplated the request for a while, but she realised quite quickly that she couldn't turn down one of Cid's requests.

“Alright, if I should happen to run into him I’ll see what I can do to help him,” she responded with a smile on her face.

“You're really a good girl, ain't too many people like you left in this rotten world.”

Although it sounded very bitter, Cid was right. This world was beginning to decay, the daemons slowly took over outpost after  outpost, city after city. The young woman heard some stories about the capital of Accordo being in complete ruins after the awakening of the sea goddess and the assault by myriads of daemons after Prince Noctis vanished. Every day more and more of these horrific stories came through and she was afraid that one day Lestallum and all the people she cared about would meet the same fate while she was out on a mission. This was the same reason why she fought so hard to make the world better again, to keep off the daemons completely and in hope that one day the light would be restored to this world again. She looked at the old man in front of her, his words always seemed to make her feel better and she was really thankful for that. “Thank you, Cid,” she said before pulling him into a hug. A little taken aback at first, the old man began rubbing her back with his free hand as a sad smile spread on his lips. “No need, just take care of yourself when you're out there, promise me?”

“I promise I will,” she said before gently removing herself from the hug.

“Good girl, now off ya pop, I got some work to do.” Cid said, ruffling her hair a bit and laughing.

She made haste for Monica's desk, papers and maps were scattered all over, and the owner herself was bent over it, deep in thought.

“Good morning, Monica,” the young glaive greeted her enthusiastically.

“Oh, hi there. Up for some more work after your well-deserved rest?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m ready for more. Is that escorting mission from Galdin Quay still available?”

Monica looked up at the young glaive in front of her, “Unfortunately not, Libertus already took care of it.”

The young glaive’s shoulders slumped down a bit, “Oh, I see… well, is there anything else I can help with?”

“Yes, actually. Some workers from Exineris need to travel all the way to Old Lestallum and repair some important electric cables in the area there so we can send power to the outposts beyond. They asked for a few glaives as an escort and as bodyguards while they’re working, so you’d be gone for perhaps a few weeks until all the repairs are made. Are you up for it?” Monica explained while she pointed out the route on the map in front of her.

The glaive considered the job for a moment while she looked at the map on the desk. Although she wanted to do the mission in Galdin Quay to do Cid a favour, she needed something to keep herself busy with for the next few days, so Old Lestallum will have to be enough for now.

“Yes, I am. When can I go?”

“Excellent. I’ll tell one of the drivers to get ready and as soon as you’re ready for departure you may head for Old Lestallum. Be safe!”

“Thank you, ma’am. For hearth and home!” the glaive pledged with her fist placed above her heart before she took her leave. For some reason though, there was this curious feeling spreading in the pit of her stomach, she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Disappointment?

She decisively shook her head and headed to her tent. There were more important things to think about now.

The mission itself went quite fluently, no major incidents or injuries and the young glaive and her brothers in arms were in the truck on their way back to Lestallum. She sat in the back, looking absentmindedly out of the window and observing the landscape around her. As they were driving on the street through the Coernix Bypass she spotted the figure of a coeurl sitting in the tall grass not even twenty metres away from the truck. When it made eye contact with her it seemed as if time stopped around her. The car just stood still, her comrades were immobilised mid-sentence and she did not hear a single noise. It was only her and the coeurl. She decided to get out of the car, summoned her kukris out of instinct into her hands and sharpened her senses in case the wild animal decided to attack her, but the coeurl did nothing apart from stare at her with its intense green eyes. Its whiskers drew lazy circles on the ground and tiny flames, instead of a coeurls usually electrifying sparkles, emitted from them. For some reason she felt as if she saw those eyes before somewhere, looking into them gave her a strange feeling of peace and security.

Then, suddenly, she heard muffled voices and she tried to make out their owners, but there was no one else around. It was then that she realised the voices were inside her head. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on them to make out what they were saying. It was as if the dark mist clouding her mind lifted slightly and these voices were a ray of light coming through, but all she got were just tiny pieces of shattered glass and she had to collect them one by one to piece it all back together. When she opened her eyes again the coeurl still stared at her with its green eyes, drawing her into them and capturing her. They were as deep as the ocean itself and it was almost as if she was bound by magic to not break eye contact with the creature in front of her. Then it happened so suddenly. From one moment to another she could hear the voices in her head as clear as day and she realised that one of them was her own.

“Anything could happen outside of Insomnia, especially at night,” she pleaded.

“I am quite aware, but trust me when I say that I have every reason in the world to take care of myself and come back. To you.”

“Promise me?”

“I swear it.”

Her head began to spin, a sudden headache interrupted what little piece of memory of her past she was beginning to regain. She closed her eyes again, grasping after every little wisp of memory in her mind’s eye, but to no avail. She opened her eyes again to look at the coeurl who was about to turn around. It threw one last glance at her before starting to head into the open field.

“No, please wait!” she called after the ferocious animal, but it kept walking away from her. She was just about to follow it when she felt herself being pulled back into the car.

“Hey, wake up, we’re here.”

She opened her eyes, her head rested on the window. Still in her delirium she turned her head slightly to see one of her brothers in arms looking at her with a quizzical brow, “Are you alright? You look kinda pale.”

“Y-yeah… I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a little exhausted, it’s been almost three weeks of constant guard duty after all,” the young glaive responded absentmindedly, trying to remember everything about the weird dream she just had.

“True words, my friend. But come on now, Monica’s probably already waitin’ for us,” the young man, Gutsco, exclaimed and got out of the truck. Before the still sleepy glaive followed him, she took a few moments to collect herself. The intensity of the dream shook something inside her. Never before was she able to remember anything about her dreams before. But for now she decided to be happy about remembering at least something from her past life, even though she didn’t know exactly what it meant or to whom the other voice belonged. The sound of it was already fading away.

‘Well, there’s no reason to ponder too much on it now,’ she told herself before following her friend through the cobbled streets of Lestallum towards Monica’s camp. The kind woman already spotted them from a distance and smiled at them.

“Oh, you made it back. I’m glad to see you all alive and well.”

“Thank you, ma’am. We’re ready to report.”

After the glaives finished reporting to Monica the young woman immediately walked across the plaza to Cid’s working station.

“Well I be damned, look who it is. Good to have you back, kid,” the old man greeted her kindly as he saw her approaching.

“It’s good to see you too, Cid. What’s been happening around here while I was away?”

“Not too much, I gotta say, but do ya remember that fella I told you about before you went out and about to Old Lestallum?”

“Oh, you mean that Ignis guy, right?”

Cid let out a hearty chuckle, “That’s the one, kid. He came along with that escort from Galdin and now he’s lingerin’ somewhere around town.” Then he stopped for a moment, his face full of worry all of a sudden, “Why don’t ya go an’ look for him, keep him company or somethin’. Poor guy seems a bit lonely and lost these days.”

“I guess we have something in common then…” the young glaive acknowledged with a sad voice while staring down at her feet.

“Still didn’t find anyone who knows ya? Sorry to hear that, but don’t give up sweepea, I’ll be damned if there’s no one out there lookin’ for ya,” the mechanic said and ruffled her hair to cheer her up a bit. A little encouraged by his words, she put on a brave smile, “Thank you, Cid, really.”

“Ah, don’t mention it. Now, go and let an old man do his work and if ya should happen to find Ignis tell him old Cid sent ya, maybe it’ll cheer him up a bit.”

She smiled, waving him a friendly goodbye, “I will, promise. See you later!”

After she rested up a bit in her tent she decided to go for a stroll around town, trying to look if she could help out anywhere, but there wasn’t really anyone who needed her help. A few people greeted her on her way, happy to see she was back. She took her time and talked with a few of them to check if they were alright. After bits of small talk and catching up she decided to walk to the power plant. Perhaps Holly needed some help transporting the meteor shards the glaives found on their missions. The young glaive approached the bridge, but Holly was nowhere to be seen and apparently the meteor shards were already inside the power plant, ready for extraction, as there were none to be seen in front of the storage spaces near the bridge. As she looked around the place she also noticed the absence of all the Exineris workers. Besides herself there was only one other person, standing to the left of the bridge and staring into the distance. She didn’t see him before around here, so she guessed the man only a few feet away from her must be who Cid was talking about. She took a closer look at him, her feet acting on their own as she approached the man with careful steps. For some reason she couldn’t help but think that she’s seen him somewhere before.

“You surely know, but it’s rude to stare.” The man said suddenly, humour lacing his voice.

Petrified in her tracks the young woman widened her eyes in shock and embarrassment.

“Oh, uhm, I-uhh…” she stammered, not knowing how to respond. .

The man noticed her predicament and couldn’t help the slight chuckle crossing his lips, “It’s quite alright, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that. It’s just… you know, Cid sent me to go and look for someone and I’ve never seen you around here before, so I figured he was probably talking about you? Well, at least if you are Ignis?” the young woman blabbered away as she nervously fidgeted around with her thumbs.

The man turned around to face her and when she looked at his face her mouth fell wide open. He was wearing a black visor which covered his eyes and parts of a huge scar over his left eye. She could also see smaller scars through his right eyebrow, on the bridge of his nose and his bottom lip, but she thought, if anything, these scars suited the man in front of her and brought out his undeniably handsome features.

“Yes, I am,” he furrowed his eyebrows in thought before continuing, “Excuse me, but have we met before? Your voice sounds quite familiar…”

“Oh, uhm… no, sorry, I don’t think so,” she responded surprised, failing to notice that he seemed to recognise her by her voice instead of her face. “Like I said, Cid sent me to go look for you and maybe help you if you need anything.”

A small smile spread on Ignis’s lips, “Ah, yes, that sounds indeed like Cid. He may be quite gruff on the outside, but he has a kind and caring nature.”

“Yes, he definitely does. So… uhm… do you… need help with anything?” she asked hesitantly. Ignis tilted his head to the ground in thought, contemplating if he should enquire the young woman’s help.

“I could indeed use some help in getting reacquainted with some essential combat techniques,” he said while tapping the side of his visor with his index finger, “Would you be up for a little sparring session?”

It was only now that the glaive realised that the man in front of her was, in fact, blind. Curious to know how this man could possibly fight anyone or anything when he couldn’t see, her mouth began to act on its own, “Uhm, yeah, of course, but… Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or anything, but how exactly would you be able to fight? You… can’t see anything, can you?”

She wanted to slap herself for not being able to control her curiosity, let alone her mouth, but apparently Ignis wasn’t offended at all. Quite the contrary as there was the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“That is exactly what I’m trying to figure out. So, are you up for the challenge of sparring with a blind man?” For some reason he seemed really smug and mischievous about the whole situation and the young glaive began to feel a bit suspicious. She had the feeling that there was a lot more to this man than meets the eye.

“Okay, alright. Where do you wanna train?”

“The bridge in front of the plant seems fairly suitable, don’t you think?”

“If you say so, then let’s go,” she laughed and turned around. The two of them walked over to the bridge and proceeded to get in position opposite from each other once they arrived. Ignis summoned a pair of daggers into his hands and the young woman followed suit by summoning her kukris with a flick of her wrists.

“Oh, I’d like to say one thing before we start. Don’t assume that you have to go easy on me, give it your all,” Ignis said, still with a smug undertone to his voice. The young woman decided to go along with his slight teasing, “Trust me, I wasn’t planning to. Ready?”

“If you are.”

With that their sparring began, but it was not really that much of a sparring session, considering that Ignis merely threw ice spell after ice spell at her and she had barely enough time to cast a shield around her to not take the full blast of it and freeze to death. “So much for sparring,” she mumbled in a slightly bitter tone.

“Ah, yes, I’m sorry, I did ask for a sparring session, didn’t I?” Ignis changed his stance, holding his two daggers in front of him, prepared to block any oncoming attacks. The glaive decided to approach him with quick steps to attack him from the side but right before she was about to land a hit he slightly adjusted his position and countered her attack with elegance and ease and sent her straight on her back. She felt the air being knocked out of her lungs as she made contact with the ground. ‘How are his reflexes so quick even though he can’t see anything?’ she pondered in frustration while she got back up.

“Not bad for a blind guy,” the young woman tried to tease him. Maybe it would rile him up enough so that he was distracted for her next attack, but he just let out a slight chuckle before sending her back to the ground again by casting a powerful ice spell right in her face.

“You play really dirty, you know that?” she shouted, frustration began to cloud her better judgement as she tried to attack him over and over again. After she was sent to the ground for what felt like the hundredth time she tried to reassess the situation and analyse his moves to develop a better strategy.

‘If he plays dirty then so will I,’ she thought mischievously to herself as a new plan formed inside her head.

She feigned as if she was exhausted and out of breath as she got up again, “Okay, one more time.”

“Well, if you insist.”

They both adjusted their position and Ignis was about to throw an ice spell in her direction again, but she was quick to act this time and rolled away out of the spell’s reach. She threw one of her kukris right behind Ignis and shortly afterwards warped to the same spot. Just as he was about to realise what happened, the young woman jolted her foot against his legs in a quick and smooth movement to try and knock him off balance. Ignis let out a surprised gasp as he stumbled forward for a few moments but regained his composure quickly as he turned around to attack her. She blocked his oncoming attack with one of her kukris and used the momentum to send him stumbling to her right, disarming him with her other kukri in the process. She then squatted downwards and with one circular kick against his foot she stole what was left of his balance and sent him face-first to the ground. The young woman audibly celebrated her victory and threw a fist in the air, “Oh, it feels great to not be the one to eat dirt for a change, ha!”

“That’s… that’s impossible,” Ignis stammered, he seemed completely shell-shocked.

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I think I deserved my little victory,” she protested cheerfully, but paused her cheerfulness as she saw the serious expression on the man’s face as he got up.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he began to explain while adjusting his clothes with his gloved hands. “That move… What did you say your name was again?”

“Oh, I… uhm… I don’t have a name. Well, at least I don’t remember it…” she confessed, the familiar sadness creeping up on her again.

“I think I do… ___,” Ignis said with a shaky voice.

“You… what? I-,” as she began to realise that this man, who she only met today, knew her name, and she even recognised it as her own, causing her head to spin. The dark mist clouding her mind began to lift as if her name was the key to unlocking her memories. They all seeped through at once, utterly overwhelming her. Everything in her mind began to race, giving her the worst headache of her life and forcing her to go down on her knees and press her hands to the sides of her head. Images flashed before her mind’s eye as she remembered everything that happened a few months ago.

She stood in the open living room of her apartment in front of Ignis, his face free of scars and his eyes the richest green she had ever seen in her life. She remembered this day so clearly now, the day before Ignis’s departure to Altissia. He was his all prim and proper usual self with his gloves, his perfectly tailored suit, that ridiculous coeurl-print shirt and the skull pendant endearing his neck. He looked at her with a warm smile on his face, but she could see a deep-seated worry in his eyes, hidden behind his pair of spectacles but never hidden from her observation.

“Seeing as this is our last night together before my departure to Altissia for an indefinite amount of time I thought it was appropriate to give you this.”

In his hands a pair of kukris materialised out of the bright crystals that twirled through the air. Her eyes widened at the sight.

“I had them made for you. I know what you're thinking, that you are perfectly capable of protecting yourself. However, given the chance that something might happen to you in my absence, I wanted you to have these. Mainly for my peace of mind, but you mentioned you wanted new ones, so this is beneficial and appeasing to both of us,” Ignis explained as she ghosted her finger around the edges of the blades, fathoming the intricate designs on the handles until she reached an engraving around them. She took the kukris into her own hands to take a closer look what it said.

‘For hearth and home and the fire that only burns for you’

Her breath hitched as she understood the meaning behind it and her eyes began to water as she looked back up at him.

“Gods, Ignis, they are really absolutely beautiful, but… don’t you think you need them more than me? You’re going on a journey facing ferocious wildlife by day and daemons and monsters by night while I’m only on guard duty around the Citadel. What could possibly happen to me?”

His nostrils flared as he took in a deep breath before he closed his hands around her own, “___, I do not trust the Empire and I have the impression that the signing ceremony will not come to pass as quietly as we would like to think. Of course, I do not wish for the worst, but no matter what happens, I want you to be able to defend yourself to your best capabilities and most importantly,” Ignis lifted one of his hands up to her cheek and looked deep into her eyes to reinforce the importance of his following statement, “I want you to be safe, ___. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

She looked up at him and as she saw the sheen in his eyes hers began to well up with tears as well. She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry, I will be.” Then a smile spread on her lips and her gaze lowered to the floor, “After all I learned from the best.”

The strategist let out a little chuckle, “Come on now, I’m nothing special.”

“Yes, you are. To me you will always be the most special person in the whole of Eos.” She met his gaze again with determination, “And this is why I ask of you to be careful as well. Anything could happen outside of Insomnia, especially at night.”

He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze as he put on a brave smile for her. “I am quite aware, but trust me when I say that I have every reason in the world to take care of myself and come back. To you.”

“Promise me?”

“I swear it.”

He rested his forehead on hers and they both closed their eyes. In this moment she felt as if they could remain like this forever, an instant frozen in time if neither of them moved or spoke a word. She focused on his calm breathing and engulfed in his warmth, but Ignis eventually broke their peaceful silence.

“I love you.”

It was just a faint and barely audible whisper, but she never heard anything in her life as clear as those three little words that just fell from his lips. She looked up, right into his eyes, tears beginning to roll down her face, and she  simply smiled as she placed a hand on his cheek.

“I love you, too.”

The images stopped flashing before her mind’s eye, the headache subsided. She opened her eyes again and looked up at the man in front of her, the same gloves, the same suit, the same shirt and she could see the same skull pendant hanging around his neck.

“I… I remember. I remember everything,” she whispered as her vision began to blur from the tears that built up in her eyes. She reached her hand out after him as if she still couldn’t believe that Ignis was there, right in front of her. Her hands traced his arms and his chest until he caught them in his own and pulled her into a crushing embrace. He rested his head on her shoulder, his entire body was shaken by the sobs that emitted from his throat.

“I found you, oh Astrals, I found you. All these months I thought you were gone, that I’d lost you, that you were… you were…” He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence in fear of it becoming somehow real if he said it out loud.

Now crying herself, she tried to calm him down. She soothingly ran her fingers through the roots of his hair, “Ignis, it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here now and I will never leave you again, okay?”

In response he loosened the embrace and cupped her face with both of his hands, the only way how he could see someone. “Do you promise me?”

She looked up at him and she could see the one clouded eye behind his visor,  she gazed at all his scars from up close and mirrored his gesture by placing her own hands on either side of his face, her thumb tracing the outline of the scar over his left eye.

“Yes. I swear it.”

Ignis tilted his head forward to rest his forehead on hers, tears rolling silently down his face.

“I love you, Ignis. I’m right here and I will never leave you ever again.”

He let out a shaky breath and instead of responding with words, he wanted to let his actions speak for him. His lips found hers in an instant and it felt as if they became one. Their kiss was filled with so many emotions. It was filled with sorrow and despair and fear, but also with happiness and love and relief. Relief to know that the other was alive, to feel the other’s warmth again after all these months, to know that they were together once again. They remained intertwined like this for what seemed forever. Neither of them wanted to let go of the other, of this moment of tranquillity and peace, and even though they knew it couldn’t last forever, right there, in that moment, in each other’s arms, they felt whole again, complete, inseparable and infinite.