#ironically perhaps

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

A lot of my collecting of WWII stuff was inspired by Medal of Honor: Frontline. I was playing it one day the summer I had my first job and I wondered while playing how hard it would be to find a helmet from WWII.

After acquiring said helmet, I set about putting together the uniform of this little knockoff G.I. Joe I had bought when I was a freshman in High School, dubbed "pocket Jimmy Patterson"

Pocket Jimmy Patterson there is a Sergeant in the 101st and was sold as a D-Day soldier but he's actually dressed for Market Garden.

I landed on paratroopers in part because of pocket Jimmy Patterson, and in part because I like airplanes. From there, I went with the 101st over the 82nd because I already thought they had the best patch, I liked the playing card insignia painted on the side of the helmet, the number 101 is aesthetically pleasing, and I didn't know about any other airborne units.

I mean,

Come on.

(the 101st is the one on the left, and the 82nd on the right, if you didn't already know)

I say all that because if you know anything about WWII collecting and especially re-enacting you know that elite units are dramatically over-represented and for the U.S. nobody more than the 101st, and this can be blamed almost exclusively on Band of Brothers, a show I had not even seen when I landed on the 101st.

How bad is it?

Well, by way of illustration, as a stress response to the final stages of my dissertation I've been retreating into buying WWII paratrooper stuff again, and I was questioning whether I hadn't better go with another unit this time. I had a great great uncle killed in the Philippines in WWII who was in the 11th Airborne so that's an obvious candidate, but of course if you want to stick to Europe and fighting Nazis your options are the 82nd, 101st, or 17th. Of those, the 17th only really got into the war in 1945 and if you want to do Normandy, as some 90% of re-enactments do, then you're between the 82nd and the 101st.

The 82nd has a much longer history than the 101st and, objectively, and I mean this with all implied asterisks and am speaking as though I were a twelve year old who does not know better, the 82nd is cooler, the inferior number/patch notwithstanding.

So I was on a website that is well-regarded for selling WWII militaria and they have a section for patches and I was doing some comparison of original WWII-era divisional patches. The cheapest 101st Airborne patch from WWII this guy has for sale is $175, most of them hovering closer to $300, and some in the $600 range.

11th, 17th, and 82nd patches are in the $50 range.

When I still did re-enacting as the 101st, I remember talking to some of the guys who were disappointed with the rather low "authenticity" standards of our unit (always something of a joke when a considerable number of G.I. re-enactors are in their 40s-60s and dramatically overweight), especially considering that the 101st Airborne are one of the most cartoonishly over-documented units in WWII, for whom reproductions of everything are widely available, and so there's really no excuse not to have your uniform and equipment more or less 100% correct.

Sure enough, trying to do a little research into the 82nd to see what that pool would be like, the resources are shockingly slim. The 101st had two combat jumps in WWII, Normandy and Holland. The 82nd jumped into Sicily, Salerno, Normandy, southern France, and Holland. They have a much longer combat record and are, comparatively speaking, almost totally neglected by idiots like me who are into WWII.

Even as I say all this

I am having a hard time severing the internal connection to 101

[synchodai]

HBO's Continued Insistence on Dumbing Down Westerosi Politics

So there have been countless thinkpieces already on how GOT simplified the feudalist politics of Westeros (by giving a lowborn sellsword lordship over The Reach, by having no consequences for destroying the Sept of Baelor, etc.), but I haven't seen a lot of people talking about that for House of the Dragon.

The worst being that the show presupposes that Rhaenyra is the lawful heir when the books showed there are plenty of lawful arguments why she wouldn't be.

Mind you that I've been enjoying the show a lot so far. This is just to vent out my frustration with the writers' failure to fully engage with the values and protocols of the Middle Age-inspired setting. The show seems uninterested in laws of the Realm in a story ostensibly about politics, save for when they're using it as an excuse to amplify depictions of sex and violence.

Blacks vs Greens wasn't a matter of misunderstanding of who each side thought Viserys wanted on the throne. It was the Targaryens' belief of their absolute authority clashing with the Realm's established traditions. Everyone always knew who Viserys chose as heir. In Fire and Blood, Grand Maester Orwyle said as much when he was parleying with Rhaenyra on behalf of the Greens.

Rhaenyra heard his terms in stony silence, then asked Orwyle if he remembered her father, King Viserys. "Of course, Your Grace," the maester answered. "Perhaps you can tell us who he named as his heir and successor," the queen said, her crown upon her head. "You, Your Grace," Orwyle replied. And Rhaenyra nodded and said, "With your own tongue you admit I am your lawful queen. Why do you serve my half-brother, the pretender?" Munkun tells us that Orwyle gave a long and erudite reply, citing the Andal law and the Great Council of 101. Mushroom claims he stammered and voided his bladder. Whichever is true, his answer did not satisfy Princess Rhaenyra.

(For non-F&B readers: Munkun is the Grand Maester who served Aegon III, the king who came after this civil war. Munkun's book, The Dance of the Dragons, A True Telling, is one of Fire and Blood's source texts. Mushroom is the King Landing court jester from Viserys I to Aegon III's reign. One is a source written with academic rigor but is secondhand at best. The other is a firsthand eyewitness account but is from a literal fool who will take every chance to make things more scandalous and sexual to please the crowd.)

In House of the Dragon, they replaced Orwyle with Otto and Orwyle's discussion of legal precedent with Otto handing Rhaenyra a book page from Alicent. It's quite evident here that the writers, much like Mushroom, thought a discussion on the actual laws of the Realm were negligible in this story about a succession war.

Even Alicent made no pretense that Viserys chose Rhaenyra over her children and I have no idea why the HBO writers decided to make her mistakenly think otherwise. Maybe they thought a queen regent pushing her son to take the throne over another woman made her appear unsympathetic as a character, but if anything, this only makes show!Alicent less politically savvy and more delusional than her book counterpart, fully believing an addled king's vague muttering on his deathbed was sufficient grounds to change heirs last minute.

Book!Alicent following Andal laws instead of her husband's wishes makes sense given her Andal upbringing, her devotion to the Faith of the Seven which enforces said laws, and her desire to protect her children from Rhaenyra given that Rhaenyra has shown she's not above murdering family (see: Laenor).

In the books, there was a long discussion between the former king's council on who should succeed Viserys.

Here are the arguments for Rhaenyra:

Rhaenyra was older than her brothers and had more Targaryen blood

the late king had chosen her as his successor, that he had repeatedly refused to alter the succession despite the pleadings of Queen Alicent and her greens

hundreds of lords and landed knights had done obeisance to the princess in 105 AC, and sworn solemn oaths to defend her rights.

Here are the arguments for Aegon II:

many of the lords who had sworn to defend the succession of Princess Rhaenyra were long dead [...]

Ironrod, the master of laws, cited the Great Council of 101 and the Old King’s choice of Baelon rather than Rhaenys in 92

the hallowed Andal tradition wherein the rights of a trueborn son always came before the rights of a mere daughter

Ser Otto reminded them that Rhaenyra’s husband was none other than Prince Daemon, and “we all know that one’s nature. Make no mistake, should Rhaenyra ever sit the Iron Throne, it will be Lord Flea Bottom who rules us, a king consort as cruel and unforgiving as Maegor ever was [...]”

Should the princess reign [...] Jacaerys Velaryon would rule after her. “Seven save this realm if we seat a bastard on the Iron Throne.”

Once again, the show chose to cut out this long political discussion. Instead, the council had already made up their mind and decided to stage a coup (when in their perspectives from the books, it would definitely not be a coup).

For all their marketing how two sides are equally grey, HotD is actively delegitimizing Aegon II. The strongest argument for him is how his claim follows the laws of the Realm, but the show doesn't seem to care about the laws of the Realm or the political need to maintain a more predictable/tested transfer of power.

Instead, the show focuses on Viserys's relationship with his daughter and the mysticism of the Targaryen bloodline. In doing so, they emphasize Rhaenyra's strongest arguments for succession — that she's more of a Targaryen than her half-brother and that her father prefered her.

And what for? Because in our modern-day, we don't have male-prefered inheritance and people can only imagine misogyny as the only injustice here? What about the injustice of a monarch exercising absolute control, thinking that his "superior" heritage makes him above the established laws of the native people?

This is not to say Aegon II is unquestionably the heir. But this is to say that the show removed the political nuance of why people are questioning in the first place. Precedence isn't the end-all-be-all of succession, but neither is "because daddy said so".

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk!Danny pt.5

If Danny hadn’t thought about quitting and going to rehab before, he’s definitely going to do it now.

It had been one of those days. Danny had sluggishly managed to usher Jason to school- pulling himself together for their walk to the building, because he wasn’t stupid and this was still Gotham- before going home and relapsing. He knew, going into the first bottle, that he was going to regret it. But he still hadn’t felt the buzz, so he went out to get more.

“Just one. I can stop after, if I want to.”

Spoiler: he could not, actually, stop if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want to, which was the whole problem.

So, one bottle became two, two became three, three became six, and by the time the sun slipped below the horizon, Danny had a pile of bottles scattered around the couch and an intense look of self hatred set upon his brow. He was buzzed, but his stupid ghost biology refused to absorb anymore alcohol.

“Stop brooding, Danny. It’ll hurt your brain.” Jazz said, a hint of worry around her joking insult. “You’re forgetting something important.”

“Wha-?” He mumbled out back at the haze of her-hah- ghost.

The door clicked open. Danny whipped his head to wards the door, snarl on his face and ready to lunge at the intruder, when he came face to face with a scuffed up Jason.

They froze simultaneously, but before Danny could do anything, Jason’s hands tightened on the door knob. The kid’s eyes darted to the floor, where the bottles laid, and back up at Danny’s face. What he found there must not have been good, because he took a step back.

It was fear.

Danny felt his heart drop and his throat go dry. The self hatred doubled in size and weight, but he smacked it down in favor of scrambling for the words- anything- to fix the damage his stupidity and addiction caused.

“Jason.” He said, voice raspy. Had he been screaming again? Good start, good- nope. Never mind, Jason is using the door to shield himself now. Danny glanced outside and-

“Oh. I- I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.” He turned back to Jason, who eyed him warily. “I- I forgot to pick you, didn’t I.”

“…I can walk back by myself.” The hesitant but full of bravado reply made Danny’s ghostly obsession to protect rear its head.

“Still. I’m… I’m sorry, Jason.”

Jason evaluated him, noticeably eyeing his open hands and purposefully lax posture, before stepping inside. He doesn’t close the door behind him- clearly leaving it as an option just in case he needed to bolt. Danny stood up slowly. Jason watched him, and his hands. His smaller hands- Ancients, Danny was scaring a kid- curled up into fists.

“What… how did you get hurt?”

“Got mugged.”

“Are you okay? No- wait,” Danny flooded his liver and blood stream with ectoplasm, and his head instantly cleared. Ah, the agony of being coherent.

Danny subtly shook his head to clear his thoughts. Focus.

“Of course you’re not.” Danny stepped away from the incriminating bottles, slowing to a stop once more as Jason shifted backwards like he was either going to spring at Danny or bolt out the door. “Why don’t we get you patched up? And you can tell me about your day. That I missed, when I forgot to pick you up and that I’m really really sorry for.”

Danny held his breath as Jason considered it. “Are ya drunk?” Jason asked, tilting his shoulder to slide his Wonder Woman backpack down, hand clutching at the opposite strap. A good bludgeoning weapon, even if Danny would rather be electro shocked to death again before he ever hurt Jason.

“No.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he looked down again. Danny recognized the motion, a bolt of heavy nostalgia slamming into his chest as he remembered another red-head doing the same thing when he tried to bullshit his way out of something.

“I was buzzed but… I’m a meta. Alcohol doesn’t exactly affect me. I had to drink a lot to even get buzzed, and it’s gone now.”

“Y’er a meta?” Jason straightened, not completely losing the vigilance, but less tense.

“Yes. I’m completely sober right now, I promise.”

Jason stared at him, inhaled, and relaxed. “You better be.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“Whatever.”

——

Danny placed the bandages over Jason’s cuts.

“I am so, so sorry I didn’t pick you up.”

Jason shoved at his shoulder, grumbling “I c’n do it myself.”

“I know. You don’t have to, though.”

The kid looked away for a moment before softly admitting, “I was… worried. Cuz, I thought somethin’ happened.”

Danny swallowed the lump in his throat. Jason slipped more into his alley accent the more upset he got these days, having learned some of the local accents at his new school and regularly swapping those out instead of sticking with his alley accent.

“Thank you. For worrying about me. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not.”

Point. From the mouth of babes came the painful truth, right?

“No. I’m not. But I will be. I’ll go to rehab, Jason. I don’t want to forget picking you up again.”

“Whatever.” Danny hid a smile as Jason ducked his head, looking endearingly like a grumpy duckling. Like, Jazz, when their parents made those blueberry ectoplasm pancakes she liked but thought they’d forgotten that she liked.

“And thank you, Jason, for coming back alive. I- I should have been there, but I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

“I want waffles and ice cream for dinner.”

“Yeah, we can do that.”

“Wow, you musta felt real bad if you’re letting me eat that for dinner.”

Danny grinned down at the head of black hair (with their red roots once more poking out) and ruffled Jason’s head. “I let you eat like five chili dogs in one go. This should not be surprising. But I’ll let you skip the veggies today too.”

“… No, I want the veggies too.”

Danny let out a bark of bright laughter.

Yeah, there’s no way he’s ever risking Jason looking at him like that again. The kid looked like he thought Danny would come swinging at him, despite their previous meetings where he had, perhaps and with plausible deniability, swung for Jason, but never against him.

That night, after he tucked Jason into bed, Danny signed up for rehab. As a matter of fact, Jazz’s words coming into mind, Danny also signed up for therapy. For him and Jason. Yeah.

——

Off camera, they talked about why Jason react to bottles and hands the way he does, and why he’s so scared whenever Danny slips back into his addiction. I’m just rlly too tired to write it.

——

Danny, who thought his addiction wasn’t that serious and that he could stop anytime because he stopped for Jason: I’m cured!

Also Danny: drinks as soon as Jason goes to school

Danny was one hundred percent using Jason as a crutch and when he felt like Jason was safe, he slipped back to his habits. The only reason Danny’s not dead- well, deader than he normally would be- is because ghost biology makes it so that alcohol is cycled through quicker. Like the Flash, but less fast? Anyways, he had enough to make him lose track of time and forget important things (Jason) and that’s what addiction can do to you, amongst other things.

Jason might seem calm but that’s actually a combo of his go to trauma response (fight) and his experience of 1) being on the streets and 2) living with a previous drunkard coming into play. Also, you might be like what kind of kid wants to eat veggies? And to that I answer: KIDS THAT NEVER HAD ENOUGH TO EAT. I would have killed for a veggie stir fry with a lot of chicken back as a kid lol

On a lighter note, the whole time they’re having this interaction, I kind of imagined it as two chickens just kind of dancing around each other.

[theriverbeyond]

im not gonna lie the locked tomb has so massively skewed my standards for books that at this point when i say "i want to read a another book like tlt" i don't necessarily mean any sort of similarity with regards to character or plot specifics, i literally just mean "i want to read a book that not only fun but also good"

[wisteriagoesvroom]

false alarm with finance bro oscar guys. his twinky prince hair is intact

[x]

[avengerscompound]

Tony Stark & Wanda Maximoff Avengers United Infinity Comic (2023) #43

[choccy-zefirka]

They hover on the threshold like ghosts. It still feels wrong to disturb Rook's privacy... Even if they are gone. Even if their quarters are empty, and the blue shimmer of the aquarium has never been so cold.

They look the part of ghosts, too, pale and worn down from lack of sleep over several days, nights, whatever Fade units of temporal measurement, of working on the replica dagger. And scrying the vast indifferent void, again and again, for any sign of a familiar presence.

Emmrich in particular is a stark contrast against his usual perfectly groomed self. His hair is in disarray, loose silver strands hanging over bruised, almost feverish eyes; he has misplaced his skull collar pin, and seems not to have bothered buttoning down his shirt, or even changing it, for about as long as he has not bothered to shave his ever-darkening stubble.

Beside him, Lucanis is drifting off to sleep, finally out of his precious coffee; the only thing that keeps him from falling head-first into the leering emptiness of Rook's room, is Spite propping up his limp, tired body.

"Go in!" he snarls through Lucanis' lips, eyes flickering a vivid, impatient purple. "We must search!"

Neve, who has picked a hat with a veil today, to hide the harried shadows on her face, pushes the delicate mesh aside to rub her temples.

"We did agree that a personal article of Rook's would be ideal for establishing a connection. Just like — "

Her sentence hangs in the air — which is still and thick, as though in the anticipation of a thunderstorm that will never erupt in the Fade. She never finishes it. But they all know what she must have meant. Whom she must have meant.

An eternity ago, in another, simpler life, when Solas was just an exciting mystery to chase and the sky still looked mostly normal, all of them, in one way or another, had a run-in with Nadia Carcosa. A haunted young woman from Tevinter, desperately searching for a dear friend, a lover, a man who meant everything to her, as he, too, had gotten trapped in the Fade. Nadia's companion Drayden has since sought them all out and written them letters about how that story ended. They made it through the whole ordeal alive, as did Nadia. Elio, however — the lost soul whose name Nadia called out at night, in broken, wailing sobs... His ending was not a happy one. The Fade did not return what it had swallowed. They all think of it now, suffocating in the stillness; Emmrich claws at his own grave jewelry, knuckles white.

At last, Taash breaks the silence.

"Okay. Think I got a clue."

They shuffle awkwardly past the others, finally breaching that unseen, unspoken barrier. To tread across the same floor where Rook once walked... It must take the same resolve, the same courage, as to step into a dragon's lair.

Once they stand square in the room's middle, Taash inhales deeply, their keen adaari senses picking up the subtle hints of scent that still remain in Rook's wake.

"Shoulda done this sooner; it might have gotten cold..." Taash mutters to themself... And then, a spark lights up in their eyes — which are just as tired as those of their companions, and a little red around the rim. Though, of course, they will never admit it. Crying is vashedan. And Rook, their big sibling Rook, who understood what it's like to be Qunari and also not, and to struggle with making all parts of their body, their very self, fit right — Rook is not gone like their mother. Taash had not held their body in their arms. So it does not count.

"Oh yeah! There it is!" Taash cries triumphantly. "Metal and leather and still a bit of smoke! I got it!"

With a grin that almost creates an illusion that everything is back to normal, Taash dives into a chest of drawers in the corner, and flourishes their find — a large, curved pendant.

Lucanis' nostrils flare: Spite seems to recognize the scent as well.

"Dragon?" the demon asks, sounding rather... hungry.

Taash nods.

"Yeah! Fangscorcher! Remember the fight we had, huh?"

They run a finger along the leather straps wrapped around the pendant, and their expression softens to a sudden, un-Taash-like sadness.

"I got a trophy from her, and then Rook came along and asked to help with a thing. A Qunari thing. I'm Rivaini, they were — are! — Tevinter, but some Qunari stuff just makes sense. To us both.”

Their brows knit together again, and their gaze snaps back, directly at Emmrich.

"The Qunari have a custom," they say with deliberate slowness, extending their open hand with the pendant. "When two people want to show how much they mean to each other, they take a dragon's tooth, split it in two, and each keeps a half on them. Always. So — "

They pause; Emmrich slowly raises a shaky hand to his mouth, realization beginning to dawn.

"Rook had one half with them already. This one was meant for you. I think they wanted to give it to you before we sailed to that stupid island, but..."

"...But I made it all about myself and my foolish anxieties," Emmrich whispers, his sleep-deprived gaze dimming with welled-up tears.

"Thought I heard your door slam."

Taash does not break eye contact with him; every angle of their face, their hard-set jaw, is an accusation. But eventually, they catch a breath, and force themself to go on explaining.

"My mother said that this amulet meant to signify a warrior's bond or whatever, but lots of people outside Par Vollen use it to show romantic love. Like..."

Emmrich interjects again; it looks like he is about to double over, and Lucanis slips back into consciousness just long enough to place a supportive hand on his back.

"Like engagement rings. Oh, Rook — "

He raises his hand to meet Taash's, but his fingertips do not quite touch the pendant. Do not quite dare trace the curve of the dragon fang. As if it might strike him with a bolt of punishing magic.

"Rook, my dearest heart... I was too much of a coward to tell you I loved you; I never even apologized for all the things I said that night... And all the while, you had so much faith... in us both... Rook..."

"Hey," Neve approaches him on the other side from Lucanis, and touches his elbow. "You will get to tell them all of this once we find them. This is the perfect conduit: they hold one half, we — you — hold the other. They are bound to call to each other, across the Fade."

Emmrich's lips twitch, and slowly, the tear drops begin to spill.

"Nadia had an engagement ring as well... But she was too late."

"We won't be, though," Taash objects, their voice decisive as the chop of an axe.

"We won't!" Lucanis and Spite insist in unison.

"Come on, Fade expert," says Neve, guiding Emmrich's hand to Taash's and closing his fingers around the pendant.

"Do what you do best."

[rynestonez]

saw someone repost this on insta and my mind immediately went to these two

[aroacecaduceus]

One wish I have for the Mighty Nein series is that Caduceus does not know how to fight at all.

Like not even a little bit. Like he’s completely useless in a bar fight.

Like, I want him in the fights, don’t get me wrong. I want them to show him cancelling crits somehow, like one of the Mighty Nein is about to be fucking destroyed and vines form around them and yank them back or something. I want them to show him casting holy weapon on Beau’s hands. Maybe he creates some fun shields when things attack.

But most of the time in battle, especially at the beginning, when he’s the new guy, I want him to be the most cringe-fail fighter to ever exist. I want them to get into a fight with pirates and just get knocked unconscious in one punch. I want them to rush out and accidentally steal that boat and realize they left Caduceus behind on the dock bc he didn’t know what was happening.

My man grew up as a healer and a graveyard attendant. If this boy threw a punch he’d break his hand on the other guy’s jaw. But don’t worry because he’d never think to throw a punch anyway.

In the game, he needed to do some fighting sometimes. But in the show, I think he should just hide away for nearly every battle. He should not cause a single drop of blood. Even when he’s angry. He’s the healer. Not because of the god he worships (she’s actually a freak) but because of a personal choice.

The only time he should attack is if they show the scene with sheep Caleb.

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

My mom and I truly have the dumbest fights tell me why we were both getting heated because she believes clergy shouldn't question their superiors whereas I believe any hierarchy without dialogue allowed between levels is inherently toxic and it doesn't matter if there's religion in it or not.

[wolfsong-the-bloody-beast]

DORIAN!

I like the way you think.

[i-really-like-phrogs]

Franken-Lyds I conjured up a bit back. I loved this look—Well— to peices! (Bwahahaha)

[alexhatessupermarketcola]

Chaotic Alex Rider is my favourite.

One of my most favourite scenes is where he gets mad that his old friend started taking, stalks the drug dealer by bike then decides, yes, a logical option here is to play hook a duck claw machine with the drug production boat (people and all) using a crane to drop it off gently in the police station car park like you do.

(which of course ends up meaning instead being dropped from height through the conference centre next door's roof)

It's remarkable that Alex is even somewhat surprised at what happens next 😂

Truly top tier chaos.

[parisoonic]

i really wish we got the tf2 tv show because i think, about your talk about how pyro ends up being a foil to the other characters, pyro is such a wildcard of a character that if you need someone for an episode to complete a dynamic it's pyro. he's designated driver. he's the mcdonalds employee. he's scout's ma. she's helping miss p dismember bodies. it's coming in through the dog door

your ask got me thinking about how i'd use pyro in a show and IDK if anyone else has seen Solar Opposites but how they split the Pupa's screentime between A + B plots in the first/second season would be spot on the money for me. Pyro could be there, in the A plot, in small ways (like you said, at the back of the bus or en rotue to the episodes mission) but then gets sucked into a 'mundane' B plot for some tonal levity within the episode. Pyro's gotta run that FTSE 500 company! They've gotta seduce the Ballicorn comic writer in order to read the never-published final issue! They've gotta earn an Astrophysics PHD in order to steal their Professor's Pokemon topped pen....that sort of thing. And then occassionaly they can show up with the deus-ex-mechina for the episode with the rest of the team being none the wiser (other than vaguely baffled as their flamethrower could've REALLY come in handy fighting those haunted scarecrows).

[goldengrecha]

How are we feeling today, people who read pokespe?

[please-let-this-work-oh-my-god]

One thing I find very interesting, as a learner of German, is Isolde's usage of du when speaking to Kakania. In German, there are three main second person pronouns: du, ihr and Sie. The first two are mainly used in informal and casual settings or when talking to people you're close with (with du being singular and ihr being plural sorta similar to english's y'all) while Sie is used in more formal situations (or situations which require some form of formality) such as talking to strangers, customer service or when you're talking to a doctor/patient. Kakania abides by this and uses Sie when talking to Isolde (such as in her speech at the end of chapter 6) but interestingly, Isolde doesn't reciprocate this and instead uses du when conversing with Kakania in German.

This is super fascinating to me because it implies different levels of closeness within their relationship. Isolde's usage of du implies a level of closeness and intimacy to Kakania as Isolde herself saw Kakania as a close friend (most likely due to the fact that Kakania was once of the few people in Vienna who actually sympathized with her and saw her as a human being) but Kakania's siezen suggests a certain level of estrangement or distance between her and Isolde. Of course. this could just be her maintaining her professionalism as doctors normally use Sie when talking to patients but with how things turned out after chapters 6 and 7, I'd like to think this goes deeper than just formality standards.