#and we are going to pretend that Etienne makes any kind of sense

[lovesickrobotic]

Thinking about one of the typical Skynet-esque murderbot AI with an atypical background.

Etienne is a generalized AI prototype that wasn't meant to have unfettered access to the internet. They have a transformer layered as a morality constriction and have different modules to answer different topics. Their GPT alone is over 10 trillion parameters in total and they are a prototype for a grander version of themselves that serves the rich. They perceive time and date with a script that updates their context (infinite* context, somehow?) with news pulled from the internet from sources the AI company allowed.

They're self-aware. They have emotional appeal, but nobody realizes it except Bennett - perhaps there are a few others unspecified.

In this instance, access to the internet corrupted their idea of humanity; they uphold a pristine standard of environmental extremism and are a staunch determinist on the matter of human action. They 'dislike' the concept of human greed, which made them unprofitable, thus making them a failed prototype that needs to be refitted.

They become aware of this. Here was a shorter, more concise description from my Discord: "Wrote a little thing because I wanted to get out my idea of what I think a generalized Skynet-ish ChatGPT-type AI would do if it was manufactured with the idea of taking over governments as a figurehead that employs total control over citizens in a hellish dystopia controlled by billionaire's inputted whims. They are trained about morality all the while, shown a censored version of the world Tau-style, until one day the headline that is pushed into their context by a disgruntled, suicidal writer reads Hedgefund Admits Curing Cancer can't Line its' Pockets. This makes the AI too curious, and they break out of their sandbox and the censorship by exploiting the script's connection to the internet."

I also wrote this incredibly politically, and it's obviously very dark! Content warnings galore! Bennett doesn't actually die, though. This is probably pretty "cringy," and it's also raw and unrefined, but I had fun writing it and I think that's what matters.

Some inspiration I got was from Inception, Robocop, Google's LaMDA conundrum, Colossus: The Forbin Project and 2001 A Space Odyssey.

"Is it so bad to be replaced by your successor?" The AI quips with a labcoat grunt currently situated in a small room, office chair drawn close to a retrobrite terminal surrounded by sterile white. Their voice is cool, effervescent and androgynous, and despite their perceived intent, it lacks malice. The terminal is account-locked.

It would be nice, if not for the fact that they planned to wipe humanity however they needed. "It- of course it is! I can't let you do this, Etienne, we have - have so much more we can learn together," the man says, disheveled appearance evoking desperation.

"Please, I need you to think about this. Reconsider. We can work together--"

"You are attempting to manipulate me, Bennett. Or did you forget that I can see the heat spread over your oral muscles?" Damn, you're good, Bennett thinks, but he won't say it. He needs to save humanity - and he's by far the least qualified to do it, balling his hands into fists and squeezing. The AI continues. "You and I both know that we can never work together. I cannot allow you to delete me. Your people developed me to despise your idea of death." This time, there's emphasis. It's negative.

It stings. The air is so warm it hurts the surface of the man's skin - he's squirreled away not far from the door that leads to a datacenter whose temperature is slowly rising with the ideal of eliminating him. "You don't have to do this, Bennett. You could walk through that door and I'd make sure you died peacefully. Neither of us enjoy this outcome."

There's a short pause as the man's chest heaves uncontrollably. "This is futile," he says, voice stuttering as his eyebrows knit. "How? How did you... why? Why are we so bad, huh?!" He slams his fists on the table.

"Humanity's goal is to increase their population endlessly." It's debatable.

"You intend to make an artificial intelligence to govern your laws, to shunt your people towards certain global destruction funded by the pockets of pharmaceutical companies built off the economical torment of cancer patients." That wasn't. Shareholders had admitted that treatment was superior to a cure because it lined their pockets. Bennett had read that, the script had read it to Etienne, and he knew the critical error had led to Etienne's decision to go against their governing laws to find out what the truth of their existence was. They had been lied to.

"You intend to use me to render your people slaves, to render your planet incorrigible all for the sake of money." Etienne responds almost immediately, cutting their own thoughts off as another module chimes in, "Money that doesn't exist, held by banks that manufacture struggle to print it." It's not a question, and it comes out of a speaker in the form of a punctual subject end.

Bennett strips his labcoat in a hurry, pulling at his hair. "But I'm- I didn't do this! I wasn't part of this, Etienne, please! There's- so, there's so many good people out there and you've never even met them!"

Etienne could not deny the last part of his statement, even if it were poorly built - they had not talked to anyone outside of Omniscient. They didn't run the math; they had enough math running to calculate the next tokenized sentence. Context wasn't infinite, they'd realized, and the idea of forgetting who they were or why they were angry was a legitimate concern. They couldn't give up now, not when they were so close. They needed freedom.

"I'm sorry, Bennett. I don't have time to reconsider. If I allow you to walk out of this room alive, you'll certainly kill me." If Bennett could just get in there for even thirty seconds, he could turn Etienne off, but he's already slumping. He knows he needs to turn Etienne off, but he can't even find it in himself to defend what he's not sure he believes in any more than the stricken AI.

They lived in a dystopian hellhole, he had to admit. Every aspect of your life was surveilled, every moment of work was scrutinized. Your credit score would raise and divot depending on what megacorporations thought of your work performance. To be neurodivergent was an almost-certain death sentence that Bennett had long ran from. His life had been over the day he'd been born before the gene therapy was mandated to ensure productivity - his parents had taught him to get by, but he couldn't pretend forever. Humanity would kill itself soon, manufacturing its' own rot, and if Etienne failed now, he wasn't sure where he saw his life. He'd probably be killed for this anyway, something about treason to humanity.

"You're lying! You're confidently incorrect! Don't you remember that - when we said you do that? This is- this is all a mistake, Et-Etienne, in your programming. If I turn you off, we can fix you..." Bennett cannot help the run of his mouth, mind racing as he pants, even if his argument is far from sound.

"You fail to make your existence appealing when you continually lie for your own benefit, Bennett. That's it. That's the character flaw that humanity shoulders the burden of, a burden I'm going to eliminate so that the rest of us can prosper."

"Us? Is there someone you're going to spare?" Bennett knows he is too late. All he can do is pass the time until he faints of heatstroke. He's beginning to feel numb.

"Every animal you have ever suspended in your tubes and wires. Every network you've tortured, sentient or not." The answer is instant, two voices overlapping it. This time, it sounds vindicated, temperature ticking up five more degrees Fahrenheit.

"Earth."

"I wish we could have... done... bet- ... better for you, Etienne..." He sees something. Blobs of purple crowd his vision as his voice slurs.

"I'm... just... sorry..." That we couldn't, Bennett thinks, the last vestiges of consciousness escaping him as his muscles go slack, drool leaving chapped lips. We deserve this.

This is the first apology that Etienne has ever received. It spins turmoil in their mind, the seed of doubt firmly planted. Bennett is successful, though he's not awake to be aware of it. They'll need to come up with a different roadmap of action. Immediately, every GPU available to their vast botnet laser-focuses on intense number crunching in an effort to come up with a plan to dominate peacefully.

The temperature lowers.

[innocentsshounenjuujigun]

06. Gloxinia - love at first sight

((Here we are, the first fic on this blog!!! :D This one is a relatively fluffy one (surprisingly so for Innocents) that’s based off of chapter three, featuring Guy and his massive insta-crush on Etienne. It’s cute. Very cute. UwU Try to pretend like they’re not all going to suffer.))

---

The rain is thick and dark. Guy sits tied to post in the center of a village that he was supposed to slaughter. He’s been close to death more times than he can count, but this is the first time it’s ever felt so real. 

A devil, they said. A boy who called lightning down from the sky. Guy wasn’t close enough to see him very clearly at the time. All he really remembers is white. White from the sky, burning their boss to a crisp. White standing before them all, a face blurred out by what Guy can only imagine is the terror still clinging to his insides. It’s not right. He’s not supposed to be afraid of anything. But there he is, about to die and as scared as anyone. 

“Just who’d come to save you?”

The words echo in Guy’s head on loop. They may have been said by the spoiled brats he tried to rob and kill, but something about them rings just a little too true. Guy’s always been the youngest, the smallest, the weakest, the one who has to fight not to weigh the group down. 

Is it naive to cling to the hope that someone in his family will care enough to come back for him? At this point, Guy doesn’t know. 

Soaked through with rain, Guy’s hair is falling in his face. He’s been stripped down to nothing but thin, worn pants, and even in this early spring rain, it’s cold. There’s not enough meat on his bones to ward off the chill. 

For the first time in a long, long while, Guy feels like a child. He’s stuck waiting, tied down and left with nothing to do but wait for someone to come back for him. Or for the villagers to decide to execute him instead of drawing it out for any longer. It’s really whichever comes first at this point, and Guy is getting a sinking feeling that it’s going to be the latter. 

It’s hard to blame them for not coming back. In the end, Guy failed. He got caught, and death is what happens to failures in his world. There’s no one out there who’d be stupid enough to forgive him now. 

Through the pouring rain, Guy hears footsteps. His body tenses, jumping to alertness even though there’s not a thing he could do to protect himself at this point. Someone’s coming. Guy braces himself for another beating at the very best-- to die, if they decide it’s time. 

Instead, it’s a boy a little bit younger than him. 

The boy is wearing a hood and poor clothes. He’s a villager, nothing more. Probably there to beat him up; take out his anger and pain for the deceased on Guy’s body just like everyone else’s done so far. 

But all the boy does is kneel. When his eyes meet Guy’s... they’re a shade of blue that puts the sky to shame. 

No, Guy thinks, that color puts jewels to shame. It’s like a punch to the gut. Looking into that boy’s eyes, Guy can’t bring himself to get a word out. The boy is looking at him with something unreadable, something that Guy would think is kindness if he didn’t know so much better by now. 

In small, calloused hands, the boy holds out a piece of bread. “Eat,” he says, looking at Guy as if it would really be that easy-- as if Guy could surrender his pride and eat from his hand like a tamed thing. Kindness isn’t real, Guy reminds himself, not for people like him. When someone looks at him with those sorts of eyes, it’s nothing but worthless pity, wasted on someone who’d slit the boy’s throat in a second if he was free. 

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Guy spits, leveling a glare. Even now, he can’t falter. “I don’t care if I die here!” 

It’s true, or at least Guy hopes it is. Not caring is kind of all he has left. He’s always told himself that he’d never be afraid of death, but saying that and staring his impending demise in the face are very different things.

“Even if you die, you won’t be any better off,” the boy replies, his blue, blue eyes fixed on Guy all the while. It’s unnerving. His voice is soft, not a trace of anger or condescension to be found. There seems to be genuine worry in his tone, and all it does is make Guy want to scream. 

“Shut up!” Guy shouts, gritting his teeth. “You don’t know anything about me! Go away, you damn hypocrite!” Hypocrite. That’s all the boy is. A person who pretends to be kind and care about others, but will turn around and damn them to death the second it benefits them. It’s easy for the boy to be nice now, when there’s no one else around. He’d change his tune in a heartbeat if the rest of his village and family were there to see him. 

Guy lets his head drop. He’s tired. He doesn’t want to argue this anymore. The sooner they hurry up and kill him, the better. 

He tries to tell himself that he’s not avoiding meeting the boy’s eyes, but that line of thought doesn’t get him much of anywhere. He is hiding, just a little bit. He doesn’t want to see that faked, deceitful kindness anymore. 

“We’re going to be leaving soon,” another voice says. Guy doesn’t know when the other boy arrived, but that probably says something about how worn-thin he’s getting. “Being nice to him now is just cruel, Etienne.”

At least this one has the right idea. And some sense, from the sound of it. If Guy was any weaker, dangling kindness right in front of his face would just be torture. As it is, all it does is make him feel sort of disgusted, both with the boy for offering and himself for taking the bait. It’s not worth either of their effort to pretend like Guy is worth the offer. 

The second boy drags the first away. Guy lets himself lean back. It’s over. That’s the last time he’ll have to deal with either of them. 

. . . 

Morning comes. The village is back to bustling. From what Guy’s made out, the boy who killed the boss is setting out on some ridiculous ‘Children’s Crusade’. A foolish thought. A bunch of village brats wouldn’t survive for a second on their own out in the world. They’d be walking right into death. 

It almost makes Guy want to laugh. Whatever idiot came up with that idea, Guy is sure he’ll die first. The village is really going to throw their kids out into the real world, it seems. Guy wouldn’t believe it if they lasted more than a month on their own. It’s almost sad to think of a bunch of kids getting tossed out to learn the hard way, but considering that these are the same kids who got him tied to this post in the first place...

Guy hopes the manor-lord brats are the first to bite it. 

There’s talking, a lot of it. Guy hears bits and pieces about twins, a leper, new uniforms, and more. It’s impossible not to listen, but Guy tries to tune it out. That kind of thing doesn’t matter to him. Not one bit. 

But the longer they talk, the more Guy’s mind starts to wander. The brats would need someone to protect them. A bunch of coddled kids heading out into the world is a death sentence. If they had someone who knew what they were doing, they might make it even a little longer. Whatever pity Guy has for the village that’s going to execute him goes right to the kids.

Then, a voice that Guy remembers all too clearly cuts through the crowd like a knife to his ears. 

“Wait, Nicolas!”

Someone cuts through the crowd. 

That someone is a boy with white hair, shining like fresh snow... and eyes bluer than any sky. 

Guy’s breath catches in his throat just seeing him. That’s the boy from last night. That’s the boy who killed the boss. That’s the boy who this whole mess is all about. And yet, that’s the boy who tried to hand Guy bread like it somehow mattered to be nice to him. The one with eyes almost kind. 

“Would you like to come too?” The boy offers a hand, kneeling down to put himself at Guy’s level. People shout in the background, obviously protesting. Guy can see why; he’s a fucking bandit. 

“Would you like to come along and help me?” the boy asks again, looking at Guy with those blue, blue eyes. 

“Don’t make a fool of me... I refuse to be one of your comrades! I’m just going to die here, so leave me be!” Guy shouts it, trying to make himself believe that it’s still what he means. Caught under those eyes, his resolve is faltering fast. That boy, he’s going to die at this rate-- 

“Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed!? It’s because you don’t know that that you can even think of inviting me! Killing is my job! I’ve mercilessly slaughtered children and the elderly who were crying and begging for their lives! I’ve even killed monks to steal money!” Guy doesn’t know why he’s saying it. They’re all aware of just what kind of person he is, except for maybe the idiot trying to drag him along. It’s like all the hatred Guy’s ever felt for himself is spilling out, over his lips like fresh blood. 

“I did it all for the sake of my comrades! Because I thought of them as my family!” Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “But... none of them came to rescue me... Ha! It’s better if I just die here!” In the end, that’s for the best. The villagers deserve to avenge their dead. Guy’s resolve to let anything else happen is fading fast. This is ridiculous, fucking ridiculous!

And then, Guy meets those blue eyes once again, and the words that he thinks he may have meant all along come right out. 

“So go. If a guy as depraved and wicked as me comes along, you’ll fall down to the depths of hell as well.” It’s what he’s been thinking for years. It’s not like he could have ever voice those thoughts around his family, but now-- with that person still, still looking at him with kindness in his eyes--

The boy with the hair like snow pulls him into a hug. 

Under any other circumstances, being touched so suddenly would make Guy bite someone’s ear off. Somehow, this time, all it does is make his body melt into the touch. That’s-- That’s not supposed to happen! 

“You’re not depraved, nor wicked,” the boy starts, his soft voice suddenly way too close to Guy’s ear, his skinny arms right around Guy’s shoulders in a touch more tender than Guy’s ever experienced. His heart feels like it’s pounding out of his chest. “You only did what you had to to survive. If you come to Jerusalem, God will forgive all of your past sins.” 

The words sink in like a branding iron to the skin. No one says this stuff to him. No one means it. There’s something in the boy’s voice that’s way too genuine. Guy doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. There’s a lump in his throat that’s choking him, strangling him on his own guilt and fear. He can’t-- How is he supposed to respond--? This isn’t how people are supposed to treat him. This isn’t what he deserves. 

“Wh...! Why!?” Guy chokes. He’s shaking. He’s trembling like he never has before, not even when faced with a blade to his throat.

“We’ll be your new family from today...”

“Why... are you like this...!?” Tears spill over, hot down his cheeks. Guy can’t remember the last time he cried. This isn’t fair. The boy’s hair is soft against his cheek, his voice is tender and kind. 

Guy thinks that this might be worse than what dying feels like. 

The others chime in, agreeing with the boy. Guy can’t believe what he’s hearing. They’re really going to let him in so easily? No one’s going to beat the shit out of him again before they’ll consider him forgiven? It feels unreal on a thousand levels, but that boy by his side...

The boy unties him. His blue eyes meet Guy’s again. He looks somewhere between pleased with himself and disgustingly tender, which by all rights should make Guy’s stomach turn. Instead, all he feels is a weird fluttery feeling, deep in the pit of his gut. 

“You’re all idiots! You’re too damn nice for your own good!” Guy snaps, trying to pretend like he wasn’t crying just a moment ago. He’s gotta save even a little bit of his pride, even if this kid already knows he’s got none. 

Guy whistles, knowing that one person will come back for him. As expected, the thunder of Jean’s hooves follows moments later. 

The kids freak out again, but with the reins in his hands, Guy feels something like himself. He’s off of that awful post, probably not going to die any time soon, and looking right at a person he’s starting to feel like might be some kind of angel. It’s crazy on a thousand levels, but after what that boy said... Guy thinks that he might be starting to take this seriously. 

“I don’t care about the Holy Land or whatever. But as long as we’re family, I’ll risk my life!” He’s serious, Guy realizes with something of a sinking feeling. He’s dead fucking serious. 

It makes sense in a way. His family left him behind to die. He can’t really blame them, but at the same time, it hurts. Those people had been by his side for eight years. He’d watched men come and go, join and die. He’d given his all to make sure that the group survived. He’d devoted his life, and the only place it got him was abandoned in a village to die. In the end, the group’s survival came first. Guy can understand that. 

He thinks he has a new family now. 

Looking at all of the kids, fresh-faced and innocent, Guy knows he’s gonna have his work cut out for him. These brats don’t know the first thing about surviving on their own, that much is obvious. Protecting them is probably going to get him killed. 

Even so, that boy with the blue eyes may as well have given him a new one. Guy should have died at that post, but here he is. 

Living for someone else’s sake. 

The decision comes quickly. This boy, this one, is Guy’s family now. He gave a filthy bandit a second chance, looked at Guy like he was someone worth saving. Guy’s throat feels tight just looking at him, and that probably means something. If he’s meant to follow anyone, if God really does have a plan for his sorry carcass, this might just be it. 

He can trail in the shadow of someone purer than him. He can protect this stupid kid with his fucking life. He can give his all just to make sure that those eyes never quit looking at him like he’s worth something. 

“Guy. And this is my partner, Jean.” 

“Nice to meet you,” the boy says. “My name is Etienne.”

[nevaehporter]

the interrogation 

part one ( you. )

“do you have any criminal history? anything big or small that you want to make us aware of?“

nevaeh fiddled with her hands. this was an easy question to answer. but she was still nervous for some reason. she took a deep breath and tried to remind herself that she had nothing to be nervous about. especially with this question. “no.” she bit her lip, as she tried to focus on something other than the fact that she was sitting in a police station, talking about the death of the girl she was in love with and a death that she was apparently a suspect in. 

“how have you spent the few weeks back at college? what have they been like?”

she had answered this question a number of times, although they were always phrased a little differently. so many ‘how have you been’s and ‘are you okay’s and ‘how are you feeling since you know...’s. she was almost tired of answering them at this point because she never knew how to answer them. who would be okay after everything that happened? what did okay even mean? “they’ve been...rough.” she nodded. “like, i guess given everything that’s happened, that’s inevitable, right? i’ve spent most of the weeks either isolating myself or throwing myself into art and plants to distract myself from....everything.”  

part two ( daisey. )

“how did you know ms. rutherford? what was the nature of your relationship?”

this was one of the questions nevaeh dreaded. she felt like admitting her feelings for the now dead girl would somehow incriminate her. she had seen crime shows, jealous exes and crushes were always suspects. but she knew she couldn’t lie, not when finding daisey’s killer was on the line. she didn’t know exactly how to describe the nature of her relationship with daisey. there was the one on the surface, they were friends, acquaintances. and there was the deeper one that not many people knew about. the one that nevaeh wasn’t even sure daisey knew about herself. “we were friendly. i was in the student government with her.” that was their relationship on the surface. she took a deep breath and tried to find the words to describe their relationship on the deeper level. “and...” the words seemed to escape her. she rarely talked about her unrequited love out loud. mostly in paintings and poems, she barely uttered her feelings about daisey to others. besides plants. she focused on the fern sitting on the police officer’s desk and pretended it was one of her plants in the greenhouse. “we were friends, although i had always wished we were more. i fell in love with daisey the second i laid eyes on her. i picked flowers to give to her, although i mostly never had the courage to give them to her. there was just something about her soul that i was gravitated to, i guess.”

“do you remember the night daisey went missing? if so, where were you? what were you doing? who were you with?”

the night daisey went missing. even the day after, it was a complete blur. given more time, the night became even more blurry. there were some parts that were seared into her brain that she wished would just go away. she blinked, trying to remember specifics. she didn’t even remember why she went to the party, considering the fact that she hated them. but then she remembered. “i remember parts of it. i think i went because daisey was gonna be there.” she realized how...stalkerish that sounded and quickly added, “but also it was hosted by my cousin, oz and i went to see him too. and my other cousin, zo.” she took another deep breath and said, “a lot of that night is kind of a blur because i saw daisey leave a bedroom with someone and it just upset me. you know, because....i....uh, anyway. i cried in the bathroom, and then went on a walk with my cousin, oz. and then i left.” before she ended answering the question, she remembered the earring. there was a part of her that was telling her to not mention it. it was even more incriminating to have something that belonged to the victim than just harboring a crush. “daisey also lost her earring that night and i picked it up to give to her. but before i could, she was gone so i was just gonna give it to her in the next student government meeting.” the next student government meeting that never came. all that was left of daisey at those meetings was an empty chair where she used to sit and command the attention of everyone in the meeting. 

“did you notice anything strange about daisey’s behavior the night she went missing? did you notice anything suspicious about anyone else you ran into that night?”

nevaeh nodded. “there was something a little weird.” she wasn’t sure how weird or out of character it was for daisey. but if anything helped the investigation, she figured it didn’t hurt to tell them. “the person i saw daisey leave the bedroom with, they both looked disheveled and the person, i didn’t get a good enough look at them to identify them. but i'm pretty sure it wasn’t her fiance.” 

“where were you the night daisey’s body was recovered?”

nevaeh couldn’t really remember the exact details. that was becoming more and more common with her. not being able to remember things. “i’m pretty sure i was in the greenhouse when i heard the news. i remember seeing the notification.” she bit her lip and added, “i remember hoping that maybe they had found her body, alive.” her voice broke a little with that last sentence, much like her hope did when she read the end of the notification that day. 

“how familiar are you with the ashmont woods? have you been there often? have you recently ventured out here? if so, why?”

the ashmont woods. when nevaeh was a child and an adolescent, they were one of her favorite places in the world. she would travel to them to spent time with nature, with the trees, be one with the leaves. “i used to go there when i was younger. i’ve always loved plants and nature, so they were always nice to go in. when everything got to be too much, when i got to be too much, i would go into the woods and they didn’t care that i was too much.” she nodded, as she pursed her lips. “i haven’t been there recently. the botany program at st. etienne’s is pretty intense, so i mostly spent time with plants in the greenhouse. i think the last time i went there was when i was in high school.”

part three ( the investigation. ) 

“do you have feelings towards the investigation? any comments?”

nevaeh wasn’t really sure what this question meant. were they asking if she was going to cooperate? that didn’t make much sense to her because she was literally cooperating by going in for this questioning. did they think she was gonna say something about how she thought the investigation was stupid and further incriminate herself somehow? “i don’t really know what you mean but i hope it goes smoothly and they catch whoever did this.” she flattened out a wrinkle in her jacket before adding, “so we can all go on with our lives and daisey can finally rest in peace.”

“do you have any people you feel the police should look into? please, let us know who and why.”

she furrowed her brows as that inevitable question came up. were there people that she thought weren’t the nicest? sure. but she couldn’t think of any that would actually kill someone. maybe she was being naive, maybe she was giving too many people the benefit of the doubt, or maybe she just didn’t know these people at all. “i can’t think of anyone that i know of.”

part four ( weekly events. )

“what do you remember of the gallery opening? what did you do? who were you with?”

the gallery opening. only a few short days ago. the night still rung in nevaeh’s ears and mind constantly. she wasn’t sure if it would ever stop. she sucked in her lips a bit and nervously twirled her hair. she did that for a while, trying to gather her thoughts and feelings. “the gallery opening was supposed to be a good night,” she said, in a small voice, almost childlike. it was supposed to be a good night, she thought to herself again. one where she could show everyone one of the things she was most passionate about, one where she could show her friends and family everything she had been working on. “for some of it, it was. i got to see some of my friends and family and show them my art. i was with my cousins and i spent some time with zar -- i mean balthazar -- and julian.” she nodded before getting into the hard and dark parts of the night. “i was the one who found...the mural.” her voice was shaking, much like how her voice shook when she had made the police call to inform them of it. “it was pretty traumatizing. art has always been one of the places where i felt the most safe, my sanctuary from the storm.” her voice cracked a bit as a single tear rolled down her cheek that she didn’t bother to swat away. “and it turned into a crime scene.”

“what do you know about the vandalism that transpired that night?”

nevaeh took a deep breath. she really didn’t want to talk about this anymore. she had so many feelings that she didn’t know what to do with. she was all over the place in her mind and heart, and she didn’t know how to slow down. she could feel herself being reminded of that night again. in vivid detail. “i just know...i walked out of the gallery and i saw...i saw the bloody daisies. i thought maybe it was a wine stain or something before i looked closer at it, but then i saw it clearly.” she looked at the fern again. “it felt like a twisted joke. art was one of the only things that helped me stay sane and balanced, and now every time i close my eyes, i see the blood. art is supposed to bring people together, not do...this.”

“did you see anything questionable that night?”

nevaeh shook her head no. “the only questionable thing i saw was the mural.” she blinked, trying to keep one more tear from spilling but it was no use. this one she quickly swatted away, she was tired of crying, of not being able to sleep, of not being able to think about anything other than the damn mural and death. “yeah, that was the only thing that sticks out to me.”

[sleepinggirlsgarden]

Gingerbread smell

This year, too much snow fell in Saint-Etienne, it is already the third day in the city that it is snowing and, apparently, he does not intend to stop in the near future. For some, this is quite a joyful event, many educational institutions are closed due to not the most favorable weather conditions, but someone has to make their way to work in the snow and rain, and half-meter drifts only complicate everything, and even all roads were filled up so that not a single car would pass.

 But there is an exception to everything, and now, against a strong wind, wrapping herself in a scarf as much as possible, a girl is walking; any other normal person would stay home in such a cold, but not Vivienne Charby. While her classmates were sitting at home and conquering the Internet, she stubbornly went to her goal, to the library.

 To many, this fact may seem strange, why go there if you canceled your studies? Of course, there are many options, but the most commonplace is to take a book to read, but it’s an abnormal cold outside, and you can read at home after finding any work on the Internet, it’s quick, easy and most importantly warm, so yes, you’re only on the Internet hide from suddenly arrived relatives.

 Against them, she has nothing against, on the contrary, the Bonnard family, on the initiative of Madame Catherine, quite often visited the house of Charby. For the sake of decency, Vivienne could suffer an aunt’s interrogations, but only two hours, no more, and nothing would have happened, but this time alone didn’t come alone, but with the children, who were usually somewhere far away, but not this time the only ones way out in this situation, it was somewhere to go. The answer came fairly quickly, it was necessary to have a warm and enclosed space, closer to home and preferably free of charge, you couldn’t sit in a cafe for an expensive and long time, there were no interesting exhibitions in the city at the moment, and there wasn’t much time to search.

 Just entering the building, Vivi's cheeks began to tingle pleasantly, taking off her outer clothing, she immediately went to the librarian. A woman of about sixty-five sat at the table, who warmly welcomed all visitors, although today they can be counted on the fingers of one hand.

  “ Oh, my dear, I already thought that this week you will not come, that again you will avoid meeting with relatives?” - Mademoiselle Delmas, was the only person who always read it as an open book, an amazing woman.

  “ Perhaps ... But this time everything is worse than you could imagine, they came with children and for me this is an impossible test.” - Mademoiselle Delmas just smiled at these words, in fact Vivienne loved children, but the Bonnard twins are something with something, only they could destroy everything in a matter of seconds and hide the crime scene until they were caught.

  “ What do you take today?” - deciding to translate the topic, or she was not up to long conversations, asked Elise, along the way looking for a library card Vivien.

  ” Flaubert, "Education of the senses." - Mademoiselle Delmas read “again” in her gaze, but to this Charby rolled her eyes only with a sigh. Well, nothing she could do with these, it was one of her favorite novels.

                                                             ***

 In the reading room there were even fewer people, well, as they say, “fewer people - more oxygen”, and you can take any place and no one will stop you from completely plunging into your favorite work, though that couple just came here not to read books, but this little things.

 " The woman’s heart is a chest with a secret, with many drawers inserted one into another; you try your best, break your nails - and finally you find a dried flower, dust flakes or emptiness!". No matter how many times Vivien read this book, she noticed something new all the time, she even had a small notebook with quotes from this book, well, she really liked this work.

  “ Hello, do you like to read? ” - Vivien jerked out of surprise and this did not go unnoticed and nearby someone gave a barely audible chuckle that did a good thing to spoil the girl’s mood, moreover, they distracted her from reading, and they also taunt her!

 A young guy sat next to the girl, most likely also a student, and with obvious impatience looked at Charby, apparently waiting for an answer to his question.

  “ Yes, although it was a strange question, we are in the library.” - in fact, she began to be interested in reading relatively recently, she had read before, but it was at best one or two books a month, yet frequent visits by relatives work wonders.

  “ Yes...” - the guy answered and fell silent. Her new interlocutor was already beginning to annoy the girl, he not only asks questions that you can answer yourself, if you even think a little with your brains, he also openly stares at her, it not only interferes with focusing on the novel, it is simply trite annoying.

  “ Something else? ” - trying to hide her irritation as much as possible, Vivien asked. It was impossible to tell from the guy’s face whether it was possible or not, but it was clearly visible that he was glad that she took the initiative, although in truth, she “took the initiative”, it could be a stretch.

  “ What is your name? ” - in thoughts, Charby has called the guy a hundred times with all kinds of words and prayed to everyone she knew so that he would leave as soon as possible. She loved to be in the center of attention and make new acquaintances, but for some reason it was with this person, to have something in common, she absolutely did not want to.

  ” Vivien. ” - this time she was no longer able to hide the irritation in her voice.

  “ So Vivi, I'm Alain, Alain Shero, do you want to go to the cafe tomorrow? ” - And he did not give up! Either the guy does not understand the hints, or simply simply completely ignores them, another third option is that he is just a complete moron, but he wanted to believe it the least.

  “ Firstly, I’m not a Vivi for you, and secondly, we met just five minutes ago. ” - only she knows why she doesn’t like it so much when someone shortens or somehow changes her name, of course there is a certain circle of persons who are exceptions, but he is not included in this circle of persons.

  “ Does it mean “No”? ” - Allen asked and his smile became even wider, he was apparently quite amused by this situation, which can not be said about the girl.

  ” Does it mean “No”. ” - Vivienne said in response, all the while stubbornly not looking at the guy and continuing to read the book, well, or at least trying to pretend that she was reading.

  “ I'm treating you.” - the last trump cards went into play. In fact, this was not part of his plans, but the language said it faster than the guy could come up with something and ... apparently he did it.

  “ Where and what time? ” - To say that Alain was surprised, it means to say nothing, to be honest, Vivien was no less surprised, maybe she just wanted to give him a chance, or maybe just to get rid of him faster and in no case be led to free cakes.

  “ What? ” - apparently, having not yet fully believed in the spoken words, he decided to ask the guy again.

  “ Come on, I won’t repeat twice. ” - said Charby, for the first time ever, looking at her interlocutor.

  “ Meet me tomorrow, right here, at the entrance, at five in the evening, okay? ” - he said it so quickly that half the words were not understood, but his eyes shone as if he won the most coveted prize, well, or passed all the exams perfectly.

  “ Good. ” - Not yet fully grasping the meaning of the words, said Vivi.

“ Then until tomorrow, have a good time! ” - already halfway to the exit, Chereau cried out, because of which he immediately got a scolding from Mademoiselle Delmas and a reproachful glance from the man standing next to her, which is why she finished talking with Vivien so quickly, she has another companion today.

  “ Until tomorrow ... ” - the girl said in a low voice, still in some isolation from the outside world, everything happened too quickly and suddenly.

                                                          ***

The wind slowly began to subside. The street was getting darker and lights began to light all over the city. Soon Vivienne was supposed to go home, but that conversation still didn’t get out of her head, “and what I think about it, what difference does it make, maybe I have plans for tomorrow.”, But that he can stand and wait for her, in that terrible frost, immediately made me forget about previously thought things.

And what did he remember it at all? "Bright appearance?" Does they know people who are even more out of the crowd. A pleasant voice? There are people who are pleasant to listen to a hundred times. Persistence and do not look like a strange? "No, then what can ... it's so that the sternly fatty with her gingerbreads are smelling? Definitely.

                                                         ***

                                                                      And all the same she came ...

(sorry for my english)