#because the ship's so small that it feels oddly personal when folks talk shit on these two

[fyeahjackward]

Anybody still around? How y’all doin?

[littlemisssquiggles]

So, Squiggles :) What do you think of the newest episode?

Hey Mizu. I’m not sure if you’re asking me for an overall review of theepisode or one that’s more in depth which potentially goes into more spoiler territory. Just to be safe, I’m going to do it both ways. I’ll give my generalspoiler-free thoughts on the episode before I go into the specifics of somethings I liked and didn’t like about the episode. But undercut for obvious spoilers.Cool?

Overall, chapter 3 was another solid episode. Similar to how V6 started off, CRWBY Writers really aren’t giving any room for downtime with these episodes as we’re immediately chucked into the meat of the episode— the mission with the Aces. I figured we would have at least gotten to seeing our heroes settling into Atlas and adjusting to their new surroundings before the big mission but…NOPE! Mission time! So I’ll at least give you that bit about the episode since it was highlighted in the synopsis for this episode.

Overall, I enjoyed CH3. It was cool and it showed everyone in action. However there were some specific things that stood out to me that I wanted to give my opinion undercut.

[Spoilers Ahead! Nuff Said!]

Rosebuds: 

First off, the brief conversation between Ruby and Oscar. With theway how the episode chucked us straight into the mission, ya girl was worriedthat Oscar wasn’t even going to be in this episode since his absence from themission has been highlighted since as early as the V7 Trailer. But thankfully,the little barn prince shared one scene with Ruby.

Turns out we were all right about Oscar confronting Ruby about her stunt in Ironwood’s office. It was a little shorter than I expected but… then again, it wasn’t the key focus of the episode so I gave it a pass.Still it is noteworthy that Ruby entrusted the Relic of Knowledge back to Oscar. This is interesting to me since it brings to light a point of concern I made in my very last theory post from this week. With Oscar now having the Relic back in his possession, I wonder if history will repeat itself with the roles reversed. 

Could this moment from the episode be a possible foreshadow to Oscar using the Relic to out Ruby in a similar fashion to how she used the Relic on Oz last season?

Could Oscar simply just threaten Ruby with the Relic leading to the two having a big fight or…could Oscar potentially end up using Jinn to show Ironwood the truth behind Ruby’s back? 

All of these are possibilities now to add to the table of events brought to you by this small exchange. It’s quite fascinating really. I don’t want Oscar to come tothis point. But for now, it’s definitely a probability with the Relic in his hands.

———————————————————————————————————–

Aces: 

The Ace Ops were all very, very cool in this episode. I loved their comradery with each other. I especially wanted to point out Vine and Elm’s dynamic. While I’m still unsure if they’re a legit couple, I did like how the chapter paired them off to work with JNR while Bunny Bites—Harriet and Marrow—worked with RWBY. 

Clover was also placed to work with Qrow and might I say this—I’m strangely fighting the urge to ship Qrow and Clover now. 

There is a moment in this episode where Qrow explains his semblance to Clover only for Clover to confirm what us RWBY theorists predicted. His semblance is good fortune which is excellent. 

Clover complements Qrow in a good way. Not to mention that look Qrow gives Clover after he told him his semblance while the camera literally lingers on him for a couple of frames made me wonder.

I couldn’t help but feel as it this moment sparked Qrow potentially being infatuated with Clover or…it could just simply be a respectable man-crush. Y’know a bromance. Nothing really gay about. Not that there’s anything wrong with Qrow being gay (technically bisexual). For all we know, Qrow just loves Clover…in the very heterosexual way. If you caught the reference then y’know what I’m talking about.

Anyways as I was saying about Elm and Vine, this episode definitely highlighted their strong teamwork. These two complement each other so well and the way they bounce off of one another really shines in their pair dynamic. Love it and love these two. This is, however, the least I can say for our favourite little Flower Power pair. This unfortunately which brings to light one of the things I didn’t like so much about the episode.

———————————————————————————————————————

Wilted Flower Power: 

Ren’s sudden change in attitude with Nora—what the f***?  I mean he isn’tbeing cold or rude to her. He just feels oddly closed off from her this episodewhich leaves me, as the viewer, asking the obvious question: Where is this coming from?

Sure we caught a glimpse of it in the first episode when Ren suddenly took off in battle while Nora sulked in the background. And while I was correct in this development in their rapport returning in a later episode; regardless, where isRen’s sudden mood change with Nora coming from?

It’s not to say that it’s been built up since V6? I mean I got the feeling that the Writers might introduce some tension between Ren and Nora given that we’re supposed to be learning more about her. But this still doesn’t give any rationale to this behaviour. If the Writers plan to have Ren and Nora break up temporarily due to Ren acting differently with Nora only to have them learn a lesson through observing Elm and Vine and come back stronger than ever as both a couple and a team partnership then…. that’s fine. Ijust wished they had done a better job at introducing this ‘issue’ inthe Flower Power teamwork if you know what I mean. Cause it feels very out of the blue; at least in my opinion.

I just didn’t enjoy seeing Nora being her usual self with Ren only for him to reply in a way that feels so uncharacteristic for him. Yes, Ren has shown exasperation at times with Nora but it’s never been to a level where he comes off annoyed with her. In spite of Nora’s big animated personality, that might tire some people, Ren has always been very patient with Nora often finding her behaviour amusing which was a big reason why I fell in love with shipping Renora. 

In spite of their different personalities, the two have always complimented each other and worked well together. Having Ren be like this with her…I’m sorry. If this is how the Writers are going to do things with Renora then I’m already disliking the execution of it. It’s not terrible. Just seems a little forced to me.

—————————————————————————————————————–

Dem Bees: 

Another thing that occurred for this episode that I sadly did not care for was the moment between Yang and Blake in this episode where Yang complimented Blake’s new hairstyle.

Some context for the scene: Blake notices Yang staring at her from afar. Yang reacts awkwardly and says, “Sorry. Not used to the new hair yet.”

Blake then asks, while blushing, “Is it bad?” only for Yang to respond many times “No” while fumbling over her words.

This moment. Y’see this moment right here, folks. Do you know what this immediately reminded me of?

It’s like the Legend of Korra Book 4, after Korra reunited with Mako and Asami. In that series, Asami and Korra shared a moment where Asami noticed that Korra had cut her hair and our Avatar blushed at this acknowledgement.

It is literally the same energy. While admittedly an adorable exchange, as I said, I didn’t care for it. As a matter of fact, this moment confirmed my biggest concern for the development of the Bumblebee pair going forward. I was hoping the Writers would’ve taken the time to show these two’s friendship growing a bit more before introducing the potential of romance. Some fans complained about the blatant pandering in favour of actually showing Yang and Blake bettering their friendship last season and it seems like the Writers are adamant on continuing this trend.

Who would’ve expected the CRWBY Writers to take a page from Bryke—the two creative minds who practically created the first most shoehorned LGBT couple I’ve ever seen in an animated series while having the chops to puppet it around as ‘good representation’. While Bryke was praised for what they did with Korrasami since Korrasami was said to be the first LGBT couple in an animated series targeted at children, I didn’t buy into it and didn’t think Bryke deserved their praise at all since Korrasami, in my opinion, was weakly written from the start.  

As you can probably tell, this squiggle meister didn’t buy into the Korrasami romance. Not because it was LBGT (as I’ve said before—I have no issue with that at all) but purely because the showrunners didn’t develop the relationship between these two lead girls in a way that felt natural. 

Rather than watching a beautiful friendship that grew into a sweet romance over the course of the series runtime, culminating in the birth of a great couple by the show’s finale, instead I watched two characters who were barely friends for two full seasons since they were involved in a ridiculous love triangle only to suddenly become quick besties in the third season. Fast  forward 5 years for the show’s final season and now these two girls are in love with each other with their love not being apparent until the final shot of the very last episode. Good shit, right?

Korrasami felt so forced to me in the end which was made even more apparent by the finale. It seems like Bumblebee will be heading in the same direction as Korrasami. 

I’m probably digging my own grave here by even talking about the Bees since it’s practically blasphemy now given all the discourse still surrounding this pair and I can only imagine how it is now after today’s episode. But still wanted to give my views on that moment given what it reminded me of.

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

 Marrow’s Semblance: 

Getting back on track with things I liked from this episode—Marrow’s semblance man. As I said on Twitter, I really loved the take on Marrow’s unique skill. It’s perfect. He’s a wolf Faunus with a semblance that causes others to listen to his every command. A trained dog treating his opponents to be subservient to him. That is freaking neat as hell. Forget all the other Ace Ops, Marrow’s semblance is the most interesting to me.

What I’m curious about is what the extent of Marrow’s powers are? Does it only work on the Creatures of Grimm since they’re technically mindless monsters acting mostly on instinct or…can it work on people too?

Can Marrow use his semblance to get make another person obey his command? That’s what I want to know. I’m guessing that there is a limit to Marrow’s powers since, we see him using his semblance on the Sentinels earlier in the episode who were probably young Grimm given how easily the group took them down.

However I’m surprised Marrow didn’t use his power on the Geist Grimm. Clover did mention that the Geist they were targeting was an older Grimm. So I figured Marrow’s power wouldn’t work on it even if he tried.

Either way, this episode just made Marrow ten times cooler to me now. The Good Boy continues to impress and he’s definitely the one that stood out to me the most from the Aces.

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

No Run Forrest, Run: 

Whelp, if you saw the episode, y’know what this point means. Forrest, the dreadlocked Robyn supporter we met last episode died by the end of this episode. He was killed off by Tyrian so…RIP Forrest. 

I feel so sorry for MurderofBirds since in his last Livestream Discussion on YouTube, he said he was hoping to see more of Forrest.

But in spite of his short time in the story, Forrest’s murder did help me to realize something about Tyrian’s tactics. Since last episode, it was shown by the end that Tyrian has been killing certain people in Mantle. However I couldn’t quite put my finger on a possible pattern in Tyrian’s targets. Now I think I have an idea. I think Tyrian might be targeting Robyn Hill supporters specifically.

On orders from Watts, I think the Scorpion Fauns might be singling out those folks from Mantle who were known to be heavily involved in rallying support for Robyn as another means of turning votes away fromher. 

After all, if the supporters of Robyn are suddenly being found murdered thenit could force the People of Mantle from rallying behind Robyn and tank her chances of winning against Jacques. 

Now this is just a theory for now. Either way, it’s very, very interesting how the audience receives more and more pieces to the plot with Watts and Tyrian as the episodes go back and it’s only been three chapters.

Very interesting indeed and I’m looking forward to seeing what the next episode drops.

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

And yeah, those my thoughts on the episode. I hope I answered you well enough Mizu. Thank you for your question.

And as an added point, I pray that my honest thoughts on the Bumblebee scene from this episode didn’t upset or worst offend anyone. My opinion is NOT meant to insult the RWBY ship or anyone who likes it. It’s just my opinion. 

If you love the Bees and you were absolutely over the moon with that little scene from this episode, then that’s perfectly fine, fam. Just don’t mind me with where I stand on this pairing  and how the show continues to portray the development of their ‘potential romance’.

And please refrain from leaving any disrespectful comments in my post just for sharing my opinion. As I’ll say again, I mean no disrespect and will not tolerate any thrown at me.  With that said, that’s all folks! 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[justice-for-shayla]

The Shadow and the Soul

A/N: This has been finished for hours but I couldn’t post it without a title. The prompt I received (Many days ago) was Historical AU and Secret Relationship, only one of which is a focus for this part. I have a second part planned but it may need a third to wrap things up. 

Word Count: 4000 

A note on Historical Accuracy: The inaccuracy here is intentional. I will break all rules of history in order to steal the aesthetics of a time period, (in this case the Antebellum South, without all the nastiness. I’m not going to write characters I like as former or current slave owners, that’s fucking gross.) Don’t send me messages or write comments about how this isn’t true or wouldn’t work. I don’t care.  

Warnings: Historical Inaccuracy, Civil War Mentions, Death Mentions, Melodramatic Period Piece Tropes, Smut in Later Chapters (18+ Only) 

The locals called them leeches and parasites, the Northerners who’d descended on New Orleans in the wake of the war, but Aurelie never flinched at their hurled insults. She never flinched at all, in fact.

Long ago, she had learned that it was better to be seen as sweet. Sweet girls who never got into any trouble could get away with anything, because no one could imagine a “Sweet girl like her” getting up to any trouble.

Four years of war time had toughened even the sweetest girls, and Aurelie was no exception. Her once round cheeks had grown sharp and narrow when rationing had started, and her soft fingers had become calloused with all the times she’d pricked her fingers sewing up uniforms or burned herself on the water they boiled to bring to the hospitals.

Losing all three of her brothers had toughened her too. By the time they’d lost Henry, Aurelie didn’t even cry, only stood near her mother, somber and steady while her mother sobbed and fell to her knees. Henry had been the oldest, and the one she’d thought most likely to live, but even he had fallen, shot dead on a battlefield far from home. 

Lucas had been first, the first time her youngest brother had ever been the first to do anything, and Jean-Paul had been right in the middle, as always. It had destroyed her mother, the loss of all her boys, and in an effort to help her regain her health, the family had decided to move down to New Orleans to stay with relatives.

Though she had said she was looking forward to living with her sister, Aurelie’s mother never seemed particularly excited about the idea, even as she stepped off of the train into the sweltering air. 

Aurelie was neither excited nor perturbed. Her life up North had been boring until the war and difficult during it, leaving her feeling restless and purposeless now that it was over. Though being sweet had always been a lie for her, now act was heavy against her skin, itching like wool underclothes and cloying like a too-tight corset.

The only thing worth looking forward to had been the presence of her cousin, Eugene, the only young male in the family to make it out of the war. Aurelie sought him out now and found him lounging against a large tree in the garden.

“Is my mama looking for me?” He asked her, politely setting his pipe aside, though she wouldn’t have minded if he’d kept smoking.

“No, just me,” She said, taking a seat beside him and carefully arranging her skirt around her.

“You alright?” She had remembered him as an awkward and sickly boy, but he had come back a sad-eyed man, stronger than he had been before, but wounded in a different way. Aurelie never asked him about it, but she sensed that he was pretending to be well in the same way that she pretended to be sweet.

“You met Sidney yet?” He asked.

Aurelie groaned. “I’ve done nothing but meet Mr. Phillips. There are too many mothers trying to match us; it’ll be the death of me.”

“They just want something happy, I think. He’s not a bad one, you could do worse.”

She just shrugged. “I don’t care either way about him, and that’s just the problem.”

“Well, every surviving young man with any kind of money in New Orleans will be at your welcome party tonight, so if you’re ready to announce an engagement, now’s the time.”

Groaning, Aurelie gave up trying to keep her dress nice and flopped all the way onto the grass. “God, I’d love to make them happy but I can’t get engaged just to see my mama smile, Gene. I just can’t do it.”

“I don’t think you should, even if he’s my friend. You oughta wait.”

“Wait for what? For all the surviving men who fought in blue but live in New Orleans to get married to the other girls everyone’s shipping from up North?”

“Then at least you won’t have to be one of them.” Eugene shrugged.

“And what about you, Mr. Sledge, are you hoping to make your mama smile tonight?”

He rolled his eyes. “She smiles plenty because I came home. She only had one son and I came back. Your mama sent three and didn’t get any, I think she might hate me for it.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Aurelie protested, “But you look like Henry, if she squints and turns her head right. I think you make her sad, but I’m sure she’d like to see you wed and naming babies after her boys.”

Eugene shuddered. “Not yet. Maybe not ever.”

Aurelie accepted this without question. If she’d had other options, she would have said Not Yet about marriage and babies too, but her choices were limited. “I oughta go inside and start dressing.” She shifted but didn’t stand, not wanting to leave her quiet moment with Gene.

“Can I ask you a favor, Rellie?” He asked, using the nickname he’d given her when they were children, before he’d mastered the pronunciation of her name.

“Of course.”

“I invited a friend of mine, Merriell Shelton. This isn’t really his type of party, so it might be nice if someone… helped him. I know he’d like you.”

“Why’s that?” For all the time she’d known him, Gene had only had one friend-- Sidney-- so the idea of him having someone else, someone who didn’t quite fit with the rest of their circle was intriguing enough on its own, but Aurelie fished for information anyway. She was hoping it might reveal something about this mysterious friend.

“You’re pretty, but you’re not soft. You’ll look him in the eye and not let him give you shit, which he will try to do.”

Aurelie smiled, picturing a bold sort of man who wouldn’t be afraid to make jokes around her, and wouldn’t flinch if she accidentally used some of the swears she’d learned from hanging around the nurses during the war.

“Sure, Gene, but only if you try to have some fun.”

Gene sighed and looked away from her, a shadow passing over his face, which he’d tried to arrange into a smile for her. “I’m doing my best, Rellie.”

She nodded and turned away, hating that sadness that clung to him like mud, but unable to do anything about it.  

“Rell?” He called, just before she was out of earshot, “He says he’s got a way with women; watch out.”

Laughing, Aurelie tossed her words over her shoulder. “All men say that, Gene; I’m immune.”

Submitting herself to the terrifying ordeal of getting ready for a party was distracting, but did little to lift her spirits as she was pinched and pulled and powdered until she looked like a perfect little doll nestled on top of a skirt wider than most door frames. Her mother had picked the dress and her maid had picked the hairstyle, she could barely recognize herself underneath all of it.

“Miss? It’s time; folks are waiting.”

She nodded, stealing one last glance at her reflection and defiantly tugging one red curl out of its place and letting it hang next to her eye. It was a small flaw, but with no time to fix it, she would be allowed to keep it, and with it some semblance of herself.

The Sledge’s ballroom was packed with people, though the festive atmosphere felt forced and oddly turbulent, like someone holding a match next to a powder keg. It was obvious that not all the people in this room had fought on the right side of the war, and tension ran high as everyone wondered who would start the first fight.

Aurelie hoped it wouldn’t come until later. She hoped it might not come at all. She wished the boys in gray could all just go home and lick their wounded pride in private, rather than frothing about it at every society party people felt obligated to invite them to.

Though she’d only met a few of the assembled guests-- Eugene’s oldest friend, Mr. Phillips, among them-- Aurelie felt like she knew them all. They were rich and polite and would spend many hours making small talk and pretending that less than a year ago they’d all been trying to slaughter each other. Aurelie hated to pretend, but she plastered a honey-sweet smile onto her face as she swept down the staircase and into the ballroom.  

Her eyes found the person who didn’t fit in almost immediately, and she knew that she’d spotted the friend Eugene had told her about. His suit almost fit perfectly, but even if it had been properly tailored, she would have seen his discomfort in it. This was not a man who spent his time at parties making small talk.

He had spotted her, caught her staring at him.  

His gaze was intense as she stepped lightly through the crowd, greeting people and smiling shyly, always gently dancing away before someone could pull her into a conversational circle. She was an expert at this type of weaving, and she made it across the room in record time, only stopping when she was standing in front of the stranger.

She held out her hand, as much a challenge as an introduction. “You must be Mr. Shelton. Eugene told me about you.”

He took her gloved hand, holding it gently. “Nice to meet you Miss…”

“Aurelie,” She said, flinching slightly when he kept his grip.

“Aurelie…” His voice lilted over her name, reducing it to something smooth and melodic, completely new to her. “Nice to meet you.”

His wasn’t an accent that one found in most society ballrooms, but Aurelie loved it immediately. For a long moment they stood like that, with her fingers still gripped in his hand. She glanced around, sure that someone had noticed this odd interlude, but no one was looking at them.

“Have you been staying with the Sledges long?” Aurelie asked, trying to find a normal conversation with a man who was very, very far from her normal.

“Not staying with them; I’ve got a place in the city. Sledge invited me and I’m not one to say no to a party like this.”

She nodded and then impulsively said, “I might have said no if I could have.”

“Why couldn’t you?” No one in her circle would have asked that. No one in her circle would have had to.

The question made her stumble and answer honestly. “Because this is my job.”

“Your job?” He tilted his head, studying her.

This time, it was his intense stare that caused her uncharacteristic ineloquence. “It’s what I do; it’s what I’ve been trained to do since I could walk and talk. I smile and dance and make conversation with the right people.”

She sounded like a doll, or some sort of teachable puppet, and she inwardly cursed her idiocy.

He looked around, apparently unbothered, though new tension hardened his face when his eyes fell on a coupe of men across the room from them. “I don’t think I’m the right people, but I’m better than those two.”

He pointed to two classically handsome men, similar enough to be brothers. “They fought with the rebels and show up here claiming they were just doing what they were told. Cowards.” He spit the word, glaring at the two, who had noticed his stare and were looking back.

Flushing when she made eye contact with one of them, Aurelie turned away, hoping they wouldn’t comment on her impropriety in front of her parents. She felt that men like them had no business on the Sledge’s property, but her parents weren’t as discerning. If they had money, a decent name, and no wives, she would be introduced to them with the same hope her parents expressed whenever she spoke to any man.

“They’re staring at you,” Merriell said conversationally, watching them over her shoulder.

“Don’t stare back, maybe they’ll go away.”

“They’re coming over here.”

“Damn.” The word was barely out of her mouth when the men approached. Up close, Aurelie could see that one of them was slightly taller, and the other had a very square face, but both had a bitterness in their eyes and stance that made her immediately wary of them.

“Miss Aurelie; it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. We’ve heard so much about you.” The taller one said with a smile that looked like it had been carved into his face and a drawl like thick syrup, poured too heavily over his words and rendering them sarcastic.

“Charmed,” Aurelie said in a tone that indicated she wasn’t. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced, Mr…”

“Simmons. And this is my cousin Frederick Pierce.”

She nodded, allowing the conversation to stall in the hope that they might leave.

It didn’t deter them. “Is this man bothering you?” They studied Merriell with barely disguised scorn that made Aurelie bristle, though she didn’t let it show.

“Not at all!” She plastered on her best smile. “In fact he saved my favorite cousin’s life in the war, so I feel I owe him quite a debt.” She took Merriell’s arm in a slightly bold act that would send a clear message. *****I am not one of you.*****

This made those marble smiles falter on their faces, and Aurelie tried not to outwardly cheer for her victory.

“Most ladies don’t pay their debts with their company,” The shorter one-- Mr. Pierce-- said, nodding in a mockery of politeness before he and his cousin walked away.

Aurelie was fuming. “Those bastard sons of whores,” She muttered, glaring at their backs.

Merriell was laughing at her and a sudden flush crawled up her neck and into her cheeks; she’d sworn in front of him. She’d sworn in front of a gentleman! If her mother found out she would die on the spot. “I’m terribly sorry you had to hear that--”

“I’m not.”

“--I just got so angry at what they implied. The audacity of coming into my family’s home and suggesting that--” She paused, realizing that he was watching her pleasantly and seemed utterly unphased by the entire situation. “You’re not?”

“Not sorry I heard that. I kinda liked it.”

The flush burned even hotter, probably leaving her pale skin blotchy and scarlet under her freckles. “I…” She couldn’t think of anything to say.

He held out one improperly ungloved hand. “Dance with me?”

Any polite conversation she might have tried to make died in her throat. “I… Yes, thank you.”

Aurelie didn’t expect him to be good at dancing, and she was correct. Her massive skirt mostly hid his errors, and she was good enough to guide him through the rest without too much trouble, though she caught Gene’s eye and saw his sympathetic smile as he stood off to the side.

“Is he alright?” She asked Merriell as she eased herself carefully into a turn, subtly pushing hm in the right direction. “Gene, is he… happy?”

He looked at her like she was insane, bringing yet another hot flush into her cheeks. “No.”

“Of course, it was an idiotic question, I just… we’re worried about him. He used to smile so much, and he was much… brighter, I suppose. I don’t want to lose him too.” The last words slipped out without thought; they were inappropriately honest, but Merriell didn’t seem to notice or care.

“He’s right there.”

“He’s changed--”

“That shit changes you.” Abruptly, he dropped her hand, stepping away from the dance and leaving her where she stood. It was an awkward rush to go after him before someone noticed that he’d left. Leaving a girl on the dancefloor was an insult, and though she knew she had offended him first, it was hard not to feel the sting of it.

“Please, wait,” Reaching out, she caught his arm, once again surprising herself with her boldness. Though she had thought about it many times, she couldn’t remember ever having grabbed a man like this before. “I didn’t mean it like that. Everyone’s changed after the war, I know. I just… we all lost so much, I can’t bear the thought that he might not get better.”

“Better doesn’t mean same as before,” Merriell said.

“Of course it doesn’t. I’m sorry.” Ducking her head, Aurelie thought about moving away, returning to the comfortably familiar crowd with their predictably polite conversations. Whatever this was with Merriell, she preferred it to the artiface that surrounded them.

“Seems like you’re the same as you were before.” Perhaps he didn’t mean it as a challenge, but she couldn’t help but take it as one.

“You didn’t know me before,” She said coolly, “And you don’t know me now, so you’re hardly in a position to judge that.” She wanted to believe that he was somehow clever enough to see past the carefully constructed mask of words and behavior, rules and etiquette, that she wore constantly.

She met his gaze boldly, waiting for his apology or his next move, swallowing the pain that his words caused. &&&Just because you can’t see that I care doesn’t mean that I don’t care.&&&&

When he didn’t say anything, she turned and walked away from him, avoiding looking at where she was sure Eugene was standing and watching them, unable to hide the guilt she felt at breaking her promise to him.

She spent the next couple hours dancing with various men who were paraded in front of her by her mother or theirs, having the same conversation over and over as they did the same steps to the same dances, with few exceptions made for different songs. The men were, to her, utterly interchangeable, and her eyes drifted back to the only unique face in the crowd, before they would snap right back to her partner’s face, forcing herself to pay attention to whatever droll observation he was making about the weather.

When it all became unbearable, she stepped out into the garden, breathing the thick, warm night air deeply. Underneath the smell of heat and mud that permeated the garden, she caught a faint whiff of cigarette smoke, and considered investigating before its source stepped out of the shadows.

“Miss Aurelie,” He said, his accent once again smoothing out her name until it sounded more like a collection of notes than a word.

“Mr. Shelton.”

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” He said rather stiffly, after a too-long pause.

“You didn’t,” She lied instinctively.

He watched her, clearly spotting the lie.

“I have changed,” She said, daring to be honest in the dim garden, surrounded by night air that felt as heavy as a wool coat. “I never liked all this, but after the war I could see how pointless it all is. Now I’m… I’m so angry it takes my breath away sometimes. It scares me.”

“Makes sense to be angry.” He paused as if considering his next words. “You don’t look angry.”

“Ah, well, you know ‘Look like the innocent flower but be the serpent under it’,” She quoted, smiling at him.

He nodded, glancing away but not before she saw the confusion on his face.

“It’s Shakespeare,” She explained. “It… It’s a man’s wife telling him how to commit a murder.”

That made him laugh, and she stared, transfixed, at his smile until it had faded off his face. “You planning on killing anyone, Flower?”

The nickname brought back her blush, which she hated. “No, of course not! Though I wouldn’t be sad if Johnny and Jimmy Reb over there happened to not make it through the night.” It was by far the boldest joke she’d ever made in front of a gentleman, and she felt a rush singe through her veins when he laughed.

“See, before I never would have said that; I would have been too polite.” She told him, laughing with him and savoring it.

He nodded. “I’m glad you said it. Been thinking the same thing all night. I didn’t like what they said to you.”

A group of people passed the window nearest you, their voices carrying out into the night, and Aurelie stepped closer to him, into the shadows where she wouldn’t be seen.

She hadn’t been paying enough attention, and she ended up directly in front of him, only a breath away from being pressed against his chest. He looked down at her, his strangely reflective eyes studying her face in the darkness.

The polite, proper thing to do would have been to step away, to apologize and then to take his arm and allow him to lead her back into the ballroom, away from this compromising position. She didn’t do that, though the thought occurred to her, just like it always did. Just because she knew what she should do didn’t mean her mind was made up about what she was going to do.

Even though she was certain she knew what she wanted to do. “I’m different than I used to be,” She said, not sure if she was talking to herself or to him.

“I believe you.” His head bent lower as he breathed the words, so quietly she had to lean even closer to hear them.

At that point, she was too close not to do anything, so she lifted her lips the final inches they needed until they were pressed against Merriell’s. His hands started on her waist, brushing against the satin of her dress before one slipped up to cup the back of her neck, drawing her even closer as his tongue slipped between her parted lips.

She had been kissed before. She had done more than that before, with a soldier the night before he left, his blue uniform in an untidy heap in the corner of her bedroom. All of those kisses had been tinged with the desperation of a man who knew he was going to die, and needed one last thing before he could go.

Merriell had none of that desperation as he kissed her. He was slow, exploratory, and thorough, leaving her breathless when he finally moved away from her, taking a full step back.

“I can’t do this,” He said.

Aurelie stared at him, flushed, wide-eyed, and mortified. “What?”

“You’re Sledge’s cousin, practically his little sister--”

“He’s barely older than me!” She stepped closer, her blush now brought on more by anger than embarrassment.

“--He’d never let…”

“Eugene doesn’t let me do anything,” She insisted. “And he likes you! He wanted me to talk to you, to keep you company tonight--”

He shook his head sharply. “Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

His hands found her hips again, pulling her close. “Don’t say you’re keeping me company tonight.”

The alternative meaning of her words struck her when he said them like that, with his warm breath against her ear and his hands strong on her waist. “Oh.”

Her lips fell open again, and he hesitated for the briefest of seconds before kissing her again. It was another perfect kiss, possibly even better than their first, but once again Merriell pulled away.

“People like you and people like me… They won’t allow it; you know that.”

Aurelie did know that, but she refused to admit it. “They don’t have to know.”

“You’re my best friend’s cousin.”

“You’re my cousin’s best friend,” She retorted, unphased.

“If he found out--”

Cutting him off, she kissed him again, savoring the feel of his lips as they moved over hers. “I have secrets already,” She told him when they parted. “What difference does one more make?”

Merriell still didn’t reply as he looked down at her, his face a mix of emotions she couldn’t decipher.

“Please, think about it,” She said, dipping into a slight curtsey before she left him in the shadows and reentered the ballroom. She felt warm and strange and powerful and scared, all things she had to tuck away into the back of her mind so she could pretend to be the girl they all expected.

Beneath her placid smile, she let herself relive every moment outside with Merriell, where she’d been allowed to act on impulse, to yearn and pursue and feel in a way that she never had before.

Immediately, her mother appeared to force her back into Mr. Phillips’ waiting arms for the final waltz of the evening. While she spun across the smooth wood floor with him, she felt a pair of eyes, burning into her back, and hoped that Merriell had made up his mind. She wanted her moment of freedom back, she wanted to be allowed to be the girl she’d been with him again.

Before he left for the night, he thanked her briefly, bowing rather clumsily over her hand. When he stepped away, she could feel a scrap of paper in her hand, barely noticeable through her silk gloves. 

In the privacy of her room, she unfolded the note and read his bold, messy scrawl. Our secret. 

[aldmerii-blog]

ALL THE NUMBERS for oran

ORAN!! MY BELOVED,,,,,thank u..,

1. Their physical weak spots

she’s not hugely strong. like, she’s kind of willowy? she’s very very dexterous so she’s a very very good fighter but pub brawls? not her thing. she can’t really take a lot of hits because she’s very good at not getting hit. 

2. Their emotional/moral weak spots

she very much believes in people who are capable of taking care of themselves...fucking doing that. like she’d probably be that dick who tells a homeless person to get a job (okay, she might not say it, but she’d think it). except children and old folks. people who aren’t capable of taking care of themselves. grandmas who did everything right but war took their children and grandchildren and now there’s no one left to take care of her. children whose deadbeat parents left them to starve. she’s a hardass but not always. 

3. Scars or painful spots

lossa scars. she covers them up with tattoos, except the ones on her face (they make her look more intimidating, you know?)

4. Best places to kiss on their body

oran usually uh. does the kissing. but i think she’d be a neck kisses kinda lady. 

5. Guilty pleasures

music!!! she loves how moving it is, how it forges such oddly strong bonds between folks. 

6. Their vices (physical or emotional)

she drinks, like, a lot. public intoxication is so frowned upon in alinor that it’s a big social faux pas to have more than, like, two glasses of wine outside your home. most places won’t even serve you more than two. so the first time she was in skyrim and saw some big ol nord woman get shitfaced she was like “i gotta get in on that” and she still frequently gets in on that. 

also she gets jealous/possessive easily. 

7. Their tickle spots

not ticklish, don’t try it if you value your fingers. 

8. Bad memories/experiences

as a dominion soldier, she saw a lot of people die, a lot of villages razed, heard a lot of screams choked with blood. she ordered a lot of them. she’s got enough bad memories to fill a book. 

9. Humiliating memories

do you know how much privacy there is on a ship. not a fucking lot. especially not when you’re just a sailor who sleeps in the bunks with dozens of other sailors. there’s nowhere to take pretty girls that you won’t be walked in on. 

10. Fears/phobias

she really shrinks from fire magic. ice and lightning don’t spread; fire does. it’s uncontrollable. 

11. Bad or petty habits

like, beyond the drinking and gambling? she talks too loud sometimes and can get vicious, both in action and word. 

12. Grudges and vendettas

some fucking merchant in wayrest. she doesn’t even know if he’s still alive (how long do humans live again?) and she’ll almost certainly never see him again. but he stole from her and her brother when they literally had barely enough to feed themselves and she’d probably kill him in an instant if she could. 

13. What gets them flustered

it’s really sort of random. she’s usually unflappable, but some days she’s not and gets overwhelmed really easily. 

14. Ingrained habits/forces of habit

she’s not exactly zealous about mannish inferiority but sometimes those thoughts creep back in. like especially when she’s antagonized by a human. she’s working on it. it takes a while to unlearn that shit.

15. What it takes to make them cry

oran can’t remember the last time she cried. it’s just not something she does. when she gets overwhelmed she gets angry. she might if someone she really loved died, but that’s it. 

16. Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

she really tries to downplay her dominion ties. like she knows that everyone she meets has probably lost a relative to the great war, to an order she or someone she knows gave. 

17. Regrets

sometimes she regrets deserting. because right now she lives her whole life in hedonism, constantly looking over her shoulder because if the thalmor caught her they would execute her. and sometimes squashing the guilt and questions and following blindly is a lot easier, especially when you’re on what looks to be the winning side. 

18. Things they’ll never admit

nord mead tastes better than summerset wine.

19. People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them

oh hohoh yeah. i’ve already touched on this a bit. especially as she comes to see humans as... intelligent beings with the same emotions and mental capacity as her? as she thinks of all the innocents she’s indirectly slaughtered? she feels guilty. she’s not interested in atoning because she knows she can’t, so she just. pushes it down. 

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines

she could be the commander of the entire thalmor navy at this point if she’d stayed. she could have so much. 

21. Turning points in their life

she and her brother were on leave together in skywatch and they were having dinner and one of the servers dropped a platter and soren just. burst into tears. like the noise was just too much for him. and she pulled him out (that kind of a public display of emotion is so shameful) and they sat up in the city’s gardens (abandoned so late at night) and he told her about how he always feels like he can’t breathe and how he always feels like his hands are dripping blood and how he has nightmares every night and how he just wants to go so they. left. that night they just stole a small ship and left. 

22. People who’ve influenced them greatly

her father, who was also her commanding officer. she really kind of grew up on deck, taking order from him even before she was a sailor. 

[idolizerp]

LOADING INFORMATION ON INDIGO’S LEAD RAP BAN  JISUNG...

IDOL DETAILS

STAGENAME: N/A CURRENT AGE: 25 DEBUT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 17 COMPANY: MSG SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling

IDOL PROFILE

NICKNAME(S): jiji, cat dad, face genius INSPIRATION: the hip hop legend himself, tiger jk. SPECIAL TALENTS:

beatboxing.

solve a rubiks cube in under 30 seconds.

remain unflinching during “don’t laugh” challenges.

NOTABLE FACTS:

mom and dad are reputable journalists living abroad.

is an only child.

can play the piano and drums.

owner of a one year old maine coon kitten named piper.

turned down an admission to nyu in order to become an idol. 

IDOL GOALS

SHORT-TERM GOALS:

keep working, pushing forward, pulling his weight. idol contracts are temporary, but the grind is forever. they’ve made it despite the odds, and he’s wholly focused on having that ball stay rolling. a nifty name brand deal (or three) would be nice to end the year, but he’s not picky.

LONG-TERM GOALS:

do everything, leave nothing–establish himself as the go-to brand face, dabble in acting, put out a solo (though given msg’s track record, he’ll give himself another couple of years before giving it a chance), establish some sort of music collective a decade down the line, roll around in CF money for the rest of his days to come.

IDOL IMAGE

outer

actor face, model proportions, nobody rapper. the weight of the last moniker is the card that knocks it all off balance, locks him (them) into this seemingly never-ending cycle of shoddy luck, until that survival show miraculously turned the tides for the better. before that, he’s the dissonance that msg likes to play off of–softer visuals of his sort don’t scream “rapper,” but that’s precisely the point.

with this wave of newfound fame now, he’s this: actor face, model proportions, indigo’s lead rapper; now with a more extensive list of footnotes tacked to each label following his name. there’s still a lot of focus on how he looks, surface-level perfection that plays off a criss-cross of intimidating and downright ethereal, a physical symmetry that at times (even on the account of the most grainy, pixelated fantaken shots) is difficult to fathom whole. it’s enough to gain him some traction in advertising, something the company has pushed and he’s complied with wholeheartedly.

the rule of thumb? stay aware of your image, but never fail to be humble–being projected to the same spew of lovely compliments on loop of course makes this awfully easy. they want him to be relatable, down to earth. another trick with contrast that’s enough to entertain the masses and gain empathy. jisung’s own personal touch being to never cross the threshold into straight up delusional territory (exhibit a: attitude controversies? what the fuck are you smoking? exhibit b: saying they don’t need girlfriends when they’ve got their fans? no thank you.).

the same philosophy is applied when it comes to his place among the boys–give credit where its due and be thankful for what’s given and got. anything that goes above and beyond and enters peak uncharacteristic excessive tomfoolery? then on god, he’s gotta be the one that’s smoking mad.

inner

his single crime is having a backbone. a human spine can only take so much pressure before it snaps under the weight of the unimaginable. humiliation stings (they’re nothing, were nothing), sure, but there’s a reason why language exists. the pen’s mightier than the sword for a reason, and a mouth that knows how to strike someone numb than the slap of a palm works the same way. it’s not loyalty here, but merely an honest defense of everything that has his name associated with it. in the past, he’d been notorious for it–particularly in the wake of senior groups who don’t know when to can it, like they’re not only on top because fortune favors the fucked up and vice versa. the truth hurts, and the only thing that’s changed in the name of it is that he now has ground that is more solid than it’s ever been before if he’s to take the fall. evolutionary tactics for the sake of survival. it’s that simple.

IDOL HISTORY

baggage? pass. any brand of mommy-daddy issues or familial dysfunction both nuclear or extended? forget about it. there’s absence, but in a world this big, who doesn’t want some negative space in their lives? brooklyn is being pushed and pushed til it spills over, and he’s caught in the flood. childlike wonder keeps him distracted most days–that, and a schedule of extracurriculars that has him up and running. life moves by the rhythmic click-clack of the L, the school bell ringing for every hour, and earbuds glued in on his way to baseball practice. the blueprint, epmd’s strictly business, odds and ends of music mixes and archives he clicks through, building up a little world of rat-tat and snares.

there’s a meaningfulness to it, a to-the-point truth, the same sort that his parents jot down or announce through television screens. he takes to it like breathing, and from then on it’s kind of all-consuming. experimenting with different sounds, moods, flows–ranging from embarrassingly bad efforts to perfectly decent with some polish.

opportunity knocks after junior year. the rare trip to seoul to visit his grandparents turns to an msg talent scout handing him a card for consideration. if there’s anything to be thankful for, it’s that he’d sprouted like a beanstalk the summer before–paired with him growing quite nicely into his features, there’s a chance here. and with passing auditions, it expands. jisung weighs the percentages in his head, a high school diploma versus the paper-thin degrees of (possible) fame and affluence. his parents look at him as if to say with their eyes, god, seventeen years, and only to raise atall dumbass?

the prideful creature that he is, jisung doesn’t know how that could be possible. it’s only when the trainee days hit that he realizes with silent horror that oh. they might’ve had a point.

being familiar with singing and rapping gives him a leg-up in evaluations, all for that to be for naught the second they have to learn how to dance. it’s probably the first time having legs this long and inflexible nearly screws him over, but that’s where fake it ‘til you make it is exceptionally handy.

it all ends sooner than anticipated, anyway (like all fever dreams do, you could suppose). a year and then some, and he’s slotted for msg’s upcoming boy group. they’re multifaceted and (for the most part) interesting. neither of these qualities, jisung also comes to understand, mean shit. but he clings anyway, because there’s that so-called “meaningfulness” to it that might as well be the proverbial titanic in the face of the iceberg called public opinion. and if there’s nothing else going for him, face and body aside, he’s got a nose for smelling out bullshit, and jisung knows, this is anything but. jumping ship isn’t happening anytime soon.

they keep releasing songs, performing, and releasing more songs, rinse, repeat ad nauseam. hope is a thing with feathers, except those feathers are molting real fast for some of them. the years drag on, the calls from his parents offering to terminate that damned contract once and for all more tempting by the minute. but he’s a twenty-something by now, and with it the buddings of adult responsibility. emphasis on buddings, because as far as the msg execs are concerned, he’s not doing anything along the lines of responsible.

case in point: what he says, or rather, does. his transparency is a double-edged sword, simultaneously refreshing and well, sharp. not in the way that they like, and especially when he uses it against (senior) industry mates taking the liberties to drag their lack of reputation through filth. pity is the last thing desired, but there’s something about soon to be has-beens themselves picking on small fry that doesn’t sit well with him. so (allegedly) ignoring such folks on broadcast to forgoing the honorifics with a drop of the hat, no doubt it’ll get the rumor mill running. it’s not until the public eye starts zeroing in on an apparent pattern of him not bowing to other acts on stage does msg bring the hammer down–reflecting the obvious resort, but the reminder-slash-warning of the heavier consequences if he’s not careful.

but by then, he’s a different kind of desperate as is. re:group is taken to like a second chance, fever dream-like training sessions that feel like deja vu and all. three years in, and dignity be damned. he’s grateful for the chance. exposure feels both like a second skin and a novelty, fits him glove-sleek in spite of not lasting there all that long, let alone making it to the final cut. it’s enough of a catalyst, enough of tiny, tiny nudge to skyrocket them into an overnight success.

compromise, along with this “nothing to something” narrative, makes for a winning combination. it no longer becomes a matter of being talented but being marketable. the love calls begin soon after, and so starts the growing repertoire in endorsement deals and magazine spreads, and he’s looking to expand his horizons a little further. he’d been here solely for the music from the start, and always will be, but in the face of a changing sound (which he privately wishes wasn’t so piano-driven now, but hey, money talks), there’s something oddly relieving in filling a different path to success that is hard to deny.