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charmwasjess · 1 year ago

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Sifo-Dyas Wasn’t Supposed to Die: or The Worst Theory Ever

“All the things you should have stopped, but you didn’t, and nothing will ever be right again. And the things you’ve done,” he whispered. “By the pitiless stars, the things you’ve done…” -Dooku (on Dooku), Yoda: Dark Rendezvous by Sean Stewart

Theory: Dooku killed Sifo-Dyas not because it was planned, but to stop Sidious chucking his former best friend alive into a Jedi-torturing cave to use him as a vision-powered early warning system for his prequel era plots. (A horrible detail not of my own invention, but the exact fate Yoda sees happening to Sifo-Dyas in the Clone Wars episode where he has that Sidious-created vision.)

Anyway, STRAP IN FOR MY WORST IDEA EVER. I hear you. I hear you. Oh Jess, does your Dooku apologist garbage know no limits?! But I’m not giving Dooku a pass here, even if this is a somewhat more palatable version of events than Dooku just killing Sifo-Dyas because Sidious said so, depending on your interpretation of palatable. I realize this sounds like a stretch, but I hope I have convincing-enough evidence to back up my claims and show my work. I really believe that some things which make utterly no sense in the whole Dooku Murders Sifo-Dyas to Take Over the Clone Plot story arc suddenly become actually reasonable, or at least more clear, if you look at it all through the lens of this possibility.

Killing Sifo-Dyas Makes No Sense (for anybody)

Let’s be real: Sifo-Dyas’s murder fucking sucks, and this is even by Dooku’s admittedly poor murder standards. It’s both bad and stupid; you push even lightly on the plan with logic and it falls apart.

For some reason, instead of killing this important person who could ruin all his plans himself, Dooku hires some criminals he doesn’t even trust (apparently for good reason, as they turn around and keep evidence to blackmail him) to do the job. The logistics of this are further complicated and stupid: Sifo-Dyas isn’t even supposed to be where he ends up getting killed; he’s unexpectedly off on a different side mission from the mission he’s originally on. That would imply that this was something of a crime of opportunity, instead of something Dooku spent a long time meticulously planning - something of a relief, since Dooku would have to be trying to do a worse job at this. There’s even a civilian witness to the attack who, of course, survives.

Miraculously, the crash does manage to kill Sifo-Dyas (perhaps the only successful part of the whole fucking plot) but then, they move his corpse, so if this is a whole “stage a believable crash death to hide the murder element and buy time for the Clone Wars plot” thing, it’s missing a pretty key component. Then they further fuck that up by forgetting to take his very distinctive lightsaber out of the crash site, definitely linking Sifo-Dyas to whatever happened there. As a cherry on top of this disastrous murder sundae, Dooku then can’t resist Jedi Funeral burning Sifo’s body, in front of a bunch of fucking witnesses no less. He probably uglycried in front of them too, but now this is just my speculation.

But even if the murder was perfectly executed, WHICH IT WASN'T, killing Sifo-Dyas creates a tangible link back to Dooku, from the physical evidence to the established association between the characters - a trail of breadcrumbs Anakin and Obi-Wan are easily able to follow back as is explored in the Clone Wars “Lost One” episode. And Dooku knows better; he used to be a Jedi who helped with Jedi death investigations, as we see in Tales. Killing Sifo-Dyas opens up a whole host of “whys” and extra attention at a time when the Sith need what happened on Kamino to stay very quiet.

And why murder someone who is already actively working with you? Especially when Sifo-Dyas needs the clones to stay secret too? Dooku seems already to have had everything he needed in terms of access to the Kaminoans, as he’s able to successfully pull off the plan without Sifo-Dyas after his death. He’s also the one with the money, he’s got the connection to Jango; he could have easily gone behind his back. And furthermore, Sifo-Dyas trusted him - seemingly a large narrative reason for bothering to detail their long friendship and history of trying to change vision outcomes. Books like Dooku: Jedi Lost do a lot of work to establish that Sifo-Dyas could have had reason to go to Dooku in good faith and expect him to listen.

Keeping Sifo-Dyas Alive Makes Sense (for Sidious)

This idea about the Sith Torture cave is not my random invention. Sidious uses a vision of Sifo-Dyas trapped for 12 years in a Jedi-torturing cave to fuck with Yoda – and let’s be real, probably also Dooku, who does not look like he’s having a good time in this episode. In fact, Sidious used Dooku’s blood as a ritual component to CREATE the vision. (There being enough love/bond/connection left in Dooku’s blood to use it to attack Yoda after he’s been a Sith for 12 years is probably another horrible post.) But this seems to establish the alternative cave scenario for Sifo-Dyas as something that both Sidious and Dooku have at least thought about, and are still thinking about, years after his death, and powerfully enough to weave it into a vision.

And can you imagine how interested Sidious is in Sifo-Dyas’s powers, especially if they’re offering spoiler trailers for all of his favorite plans? He is very interested in prophecy, the future, and arguably uses some of those aspects in his manipulation of Anakin. Sifo-Dyas represents both a great threat and a great opportunity to a Sith Lord whose multi-tentacle plans are endlessly convoluted, and by their very nature require multiple contingency plans. How advantageous to have someone around whose one weird power is seeing alternative possible futures?

Keeping Sifo-Dyas alive but captive removes the only other person who knows the exact details about the Clone plot while preserving something potentially very valuable to Sidious. And there’s a further positive: a problem with the whole secret weapon clone army situation is that they need to be revealed at the pivotal moment in the new war. Someone trusted needs to tell the Jedi Council about the Clone Army and convince them to use them in the crisis. Who better to do this than producing beloved, missing Master Sifo-Dyas (who ten years of torture in a Sith cave has made very cooperative and corrupted indeed) to reveal the army to the Republic?

In Conclusion

But... Sifo-Dyas was his best friend, once, and Dooku chokes. Sentimentality, if not outright lingering love, is a flaw for Dooku as a Sith, and one he trips over repeatedly throughout his atrocities. And we can’t confuse this with actual valor. He doesn’t try to save Sifo-Dyas, only give him a less insanely brutal fate. He orders his death, and it’s a sloppy rush job for all the reasons you might expect from a sudden change of plan, and possibly, the need to kill him before Sidious figured out what he was actually doing. This might even explain him using a third party to do the job: he has plausible deniability to say “well, I ordered them to capture him, but they fucked it up.” Which of course, they did.

Bonus Round

This theory would also explain two lingering clues we have about Sifo-Dyas’s death involving the behavior of the two guilty participants around the topic:

Dooku

Dooku is really putting the “lie” in “unreliable narrator” during this era, so it can be difficult (and perhaps foolish) to look too deeply into his reactions. But I think it’s fair to say that Dooku acts “pretty fucking weird” about Sifo-Dyas’s death.

In the Lost One episode, he makes an impassioned appeal to Obi-Wan about joining him (a favorite topic of Dooku’s), claiming that Sifo-Dyas understood what he was doing and worked with him willingly. This conversation is only taking place because they caught Dooku in the literal fucking act of covering up evidence of Sifo-Dyas’s murder. It’s not like anyone is unclear about what they’re doing here. Dooku knows. Obi-Wan and Anakin know. Dooku knows that they know. And yet, he still, seemingly genuinely, wants to tell them that Sifo-Dyas sought him out and worked with him. “Join me, just like this guy I ended up murdering” is not a great argument, and Dooku has to know that. So what is the source of his doublethink on this topic? What’s the detail he’s holding onto that’s letting him keep his elaborate palace of denial intact here?

In Tales of the Jedi, Dooku makes an unclear, brief, stammering mention of Sifo-Dyas in the list of the things he’s done for Sidious, and yet killing Yaddle outright is an obvious difficult struggle for him, and narratively shown as a clear before/after moment for Dooku’s fall. The Sith ghost version of Dooku in the Yoda comic outright calls her his first kill. (Lol, Ramil Serenno would like a word.) But you’d think murdering his former best friend who was actively working with him would be a bigger deal? There's this pattern where it almost seems as if Dooku thinks about what happened to Sifo-Dyas differently than his other kills, as if he has some reason to think what he did was less bad or more necessary, even insisting on repeating the absurd “we were working together” narrative when it really has lost relevance in light of how that ended up.

Sidious

Sidious is as onscreen physically violent to Dooku as we ever see him in non-Legends canon in the Lost One Sifo-Dyas episode. He goes into the conversation angry and ends up choking Dooku out over holocomm. If Dooku did, as we assume, exactly what Sidious wanted him to in killing Sifo-Dyas back 10-12 years ago, why does he come into that conversation so violently furious and willing to outright hurt Dooku in a way that he doesn't over other mistakes?

Bonus Bonus Round

In season 5, I suspect the reason we got Sifo-Dyas being tortured in the Sith cave in Yoda’s vision was because Clone Wars was going to make this reveal (and make it so that this was indeed Sifo-Dyas’s fate in the new canon), storyboard or animated part of it, and then decided not to and recycled the images for Yoda’s vision. My pure speculation, but it would fit with their pattern of unused/scrapped/recycled Clone Wars storylines.

That’s it! That’s all! You can’t get the time you spent reading this post back, but now this horrible theory lives in your head too.

#the clone wars #sifo dyas #count dooku #star wars theories #star wars meta #text post #long post #darth sidious #star wars

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semi-imaginary-place · 2 months ago

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metaphor re fanfasio live playthrough thoughts. spoilers

oh we going post modern meta narrative. I wonder what's up with more.

one race means there's harmony and no discrimination or conflict. Wow this is a fantasy story.

why did we need to go to the capital to get recruited into the guard to get deployed to where grius was why not just go directly to grius. Also this assassination plot sounds bad it's one dude with a knife. rip grius.

Well the demo is excellent in every way but that doesn't mean the rest of the game is good. Ffxvi.... I remember

If there isn't a cat/dog boy party member i'll riot.

The big face rock is the wildest government system.

Instead of just the sanctoress for the contest why not also bring the human corpse.

Going onto the deck of a rolling ship feels stupid what are you two even doing

All the characters are great so far but I'm falling in love with fidelio. Tsundere tiny big brother. He has puppy ears.

copied smtiv's homework, joking of course post apocalyptic modern past fantasy present is a common enough story premise. Whats the list at now for what this game is a fusion of: persona 5, etrian odyssey, smtiv (arguably v too).

How literal is that "hearts the source of magla" thing and how literal are the mechanical hearts. I wouldnt put it past the devs for everyone to be a robot.

something is happening with the parapus brothers. they are springing far too many flags and i got spoiled that basilio is a party member. if fidelio dies i'm quitting he's my favorite.

Louis is wayyy to important narratively to die this early. Probably. Uh the theater audience cant see the roof well. If eupha recalls the lance they'll know someone took it but not who. If you're going to give forden the lance anyways i dont see why bother appearing on stage. didnt do that good of a job telling how evil louis was could have given a better speech. SHOULD HAVE CHECKED LOUIS WAS DEAD YOURSELVES. Also that hooded guy is so sus. Forden think they're working for him but they also reported to louis about the party's actions. Uh also you lot never confirmed louis was the curse caster like could have confronted him during the fight. Like you all just vigilante killed the wrong man. Maybe.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Well rella puppet or not, and louis both seem better rulers than forden so I'm happy about him dying. forden law route vibes.

woah hulkenburg ready to kill. we really are just killing people willy nilly on the slightest suspicions. that's 3 asassination attempts and 2 of them were the wrong person.

there are so many sus things about the mc. like why doesnt russell know him. wouldnt be surprised if he and the prince were two halves of the same person. why does the prince have no name and there was that name input at the begining of the game. something up.

oh wait that's real, i was also thinking like twinsies or something. his humansona! his self insert character! I'm laughing so hard right now. this is really good thematically but i can't stop laughing

wow he really is just griffith. he's cosplaying a clemar. and louis chose to have bigger than average horns.

Havent been commenting too much because it's too good. One thing that bothers me is the timeline and prince's assassination attempt which happened like 12? Years ago. Rella and louis were said to be unusually young and i guess this is a jrpg but having like a 16 year old general feels a bit much. And if hulkenberg was a royal knight presumably she had some accomplishments and experience already before being promoted. Fidelio was already a trusted aide of louis (presumably with military accomplishments) before the assassination attempt. Anyways it just feels like the timeline is very tight and a number of people were in rather veteran positions despite being rather young. I suppose it's plausible much of the cast is in their early 30s. Fidelio's appearence is nonindicative of his age but a lot of the cast though feel 20s like stohl feels young, first venture as an adult and all. An easier solution really would have been to make the assassination attempt not that long ago say 6 years instead.

So not only is zorba gay he's also trans. Ok. Slay king choose your form.

louis chaos hero for real. Louis rizz off the charts.

He really is just lucifer now. Louis cyphre moment. Louis chaos route vs thorden law route. Bruh his magical girl transformation was just stripping. The only thing about this fight is that the music could have gone harder

There are so many shibuyas in this game. Because its already established that the modern world in in the past and this is post apocalyptic. Then there's more's book which i initially assumed was a nod to irl (like in kingdom hearts) but then was revealed to maybe be historically based. Now he's saying the game isn't real, should have used video footage like Eva rebuild did. We're fighting against the author. Who's also our dad while our mom supporting us. Dad's oc vs son's oc. outer space fight is cool but in the middle of shibuya like the yozora fight also would have been cool.

Ah there's the 2nd phase was kinda hoping for one. I wonder why both joy and mirth are there. Crucified hanging puppets that he's eating, 1 each to represent the tribes. (Which speaking of why dont the fairies count unless their origins are in pure magla like dragons instead of being mutated ancient humans like the tribes.)

Someone pointed out that if louis hadn't nullified the king's assassin magic he would have won the popularity contest

Yeeeaaaahhh... statesmanship.... you have 0 management or large scale leadership experience. 0 policy nothing concrete all vibes I would not have voted for him. Ah and there's the porkbarelling neopotism favoritism political appointments. Also his face was on a giant rock for months how does no one know it.

excellent game. good enough that i don't have many complaints which is why this is short i always write more when i have something to complain about. I ended up really liking all the parapus characters like catherina is so good hell yeah community organizing! she's actually doing the work.

#metaphor spoilers #metaphor refantazio

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vanosslirious · 2 months ago

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BBS Dialogue Prompts #375

BBS Dialogue Prompts & Sentence Starter: [ 9 ]

SMII7Y

I think I made it way more difficult than it needed to be.

I'm really good at that part.

If I wasn't a dumbass, I'm sure that's entirely possible.

Why am I the most difficult human being?

Why does that not open the door? That's so stupid.

I'm going to stare you in the eyes.

I don't even have to do the other ones.

Screw the other alarm systems.

Oh my God, I made a bridge.

Oh boy, victory fire!

Why do you have to make this so difficult?

This is an annoying mission.

I really don't trust myself with this thing.

Come on, just get on the boat!

Get on the boat, I'm not taking no for an answer.

Do I really want to do all three?

There's no way in hell this thing survives.

It's already under water.

Come here, you son of a bitch.

I feel so accomplished.

TERRORISER

I'll come back.

I can go to bed!

I found the door, let's go.

I'm in the radioactive room!

You're a genius.

Oh my God, the door is right here.

Oh no, he's in a maze.

Do you appreciate me?

It beeps because it detects the ghost.

Is that a safe in there?

BIGPUFFER

Do you still have root beer?

Don't fucking touch me!

We gotta be momma birds, okay.

I'm a be honest, I didn't do a fucking thing.

I haven't done a single thing.

We gotta gang up on them!

Alright, who are we targeting this time?

Damn, that's crazy, anyways.

I'm gonna get some treats.

Put me in the bunker!

VANOSSGAMING

There are only two options.

It could be anything, yes.

Who broke it?

Can I do whatever you guys are doing?

Wait, why am I poisoned, I didn't drink it.

Stop hitting me, I'm going to die again.

Yay, I feel so energized!

I got enough to deal with.

Jesus, the fucking timing!

That's right, I'm invincible.

JERICHO

This ain't hard at all.

They're getting sent to their death, a harrowing journey.

How do I use that?

I can't, I don't have enough ammo.

I'm gonna phase through it.

Beer!

I think I broke my legs.

I wonder what happens when you fall off…

I'm gonna climb up.

You idiots, I slid underneath it for a reason.

NOGLA

That's the prank, wasting our time.

I was the inspiration, let's just say.

You don't even sound concerned.

I don't know, but they killed your dog.

That seems personal, bro.

You're such a slut.

Yep, not my problem.

I have a strategy in mind.

Now I can start building my portfolio again.

Don't worry about it.

ELILIKESRICE

I put the piano back.

You put it down before we went to bed, you woke up and didn't even notice it.

You bitch, you stole that from me, I was setting it up!

Whoa, what just happened?

We need comprehensive sex education.

Just kick it, just kick it!

We're losing our slots.

He was holding the ball too.

Me, personally, I wouldn't allow that to happen.

Hey, you're learning.

H2ODELIRIOUS

Oh, I don't think we should be doing this.

That's so creepy!

That was all the money that was in there, that was it?

Someone was going to take that, it might as well be me, right?

We can get a taxi, hike, or steal the car...let's steal the car.

Oh no...it's the killer!

Why did we pick this guy up?

What are you doing...are you doing this?

Please don't shoot me, man.

Oh my God, I thought I was going to die.

FL0M

After everything on our raft, that's what concerns you?

Come up, right here, I'm right above you!

I literally haven't hit a trap, and I'm gonna die.

I'm picking up all this shit.

The screws aren't even in the boat, what kinda magic is this?

Dude, are we ice-skating, bro?

Cry about it.

Bring the gun thing.

He gave us an egg.

They told me this shit is melting, no way.

#banana bus squad #vanoss crew #frouse #bbs prompts #smii7y #the terroriser #bigpuffer #vanossgaming #jericho | tucker #daithi de nogla #elilikesrice #h2odelirious #fl0m #rpf prompts #rpf #text

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fangirlwriting-stories · 2 years ago

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They Say You Can't Fight Fate (I Say Fucking Watch Me)

Chapter One

Chapter Two:

Roman and Remus were both experts at cheating the system by now. Roman showed up here often enough that he was trusted to take Remus out on day trips sometimes. They didn’t happen nearly as often as Remus liked, but they happened every now and then. They’d gone to rage rooms and carnivals and on long drives through the countryside. The memories were some of Remus’ happiest.

Roman told the people in charge of Remus’ care that he wanted to take him out on their birthday the next month, to get Remus a cake he could shove his face into (that part was actually true. Remus had always wanted to do that during a year when he could remember it instead of just as a one-year-old, which he could not remember and was therefore completely unfair).

They gave him the go-ahead, and it was like a weight suddenly lifted from Remus’ shoulders. Suddenly nothing was so bad, because all of this absolute bullshit had an end date. Remus made sure not to show his relief, but holy shit did he feel it.

When the day arrived, they gave Remus a set of normal clothes and a day pass, and Roman showed up as soon as visiting hours started.

Remus wasn’t quite sure what to feel as he was walking towards Roman’s car. The whole world seemed slightly off kilter somehow, as if someone had boxed Remus on the ears and now they were ringing.

As the car came into view Remus felt a gentle hand on his arm.

He turned to see Roman mouthing his name— no, wait, he was talking. Okay, maybe the ringing ears were actually happening.

Remus shook his head, trying to clear it. “What?” he asked. His voice sounded like he was underwater.

Roman looked at him for another minute, and then just shook his head, took Remus’ arm, and pulled them both towards the car.

Remus stared out the window as they drove away, at the building getting smaller and smaller behind them. Was he really never going to see it again?

Roman’s hand on his arm again finally snapped his brain back to reality, and Remus glanced over at him.

Roman was looking at the road, but the concern was still obvious on his face. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know how to exist outside that fucking place, Roman,” Remus said weakly.

“It’s okay,” Roman said, squeezing his arm. “I’ll help you figure it out.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Remus asked, turning in his seat to look at him more directly.

“A little late to be asking that, isn’t it?” Roman asked.

“Well, no, not really. We could just go get a cake and you could take me—” Remus stopped and swallowed the words, unable to say it.

Roman gave him a look. “Yeah, sure I could,” he said. “You’d be fine.”

“But you’re giving up your life,” Remus said, looking back out the window. “Mom and Dad, your future, your friends.”

“What friends? You’re my friend.”

Remus turned to stare at Roman again. “What, are you telling me you don’t have any friends?”

Roman’s hands tightened around the wheel. “No one could figure out how to stop making fun of you long enough to make a good impression.”

Remus kept staring at him.

“I do not want,” Roman said firmly. “Anything this stupid town gives me. And more than that, I don’t want to stay here if it means I might lose you. The only thing this place has ever done for me is make me feel worthless, and then it took away the one person who didn’t make me feel that way. Why would I want to stay here a second longer than I have to either?”

Remus reached across himself with his free arm and squeezed Roman’s hand. “You’re not worthless,” he said quietly.

“Maybe,” Roman said. “But I do know that I’m never gonna find out if I stick around here and keep waiting for things to change. I’m tired of letting other people tell me what to do. Especially when it comes to you. So let’s go shove our face in a cake and then we’re gonna head west until the car gives out. Sound good to you?”

Remus took all that in for a second and nodded, looking back out the window. Even though he couldn’t see the mental hospital in the rear view mirror anymore, it still didn’t feel real.

Roman drove through town, which looked different from the last time Remus had seen it a couple years ago. The ice cream shop was closed down in favor of the Dairy Queen that had moved in, which was just the worst. The school was shabbier, with still no repairs in sight. Their house, that Roman drove by once for the heck of it but Remus barely remembered, looked the same as it apparently always did.

(Roman slowed as they approached the house, and asked Remus if he wanted to say goodbye to their parents. Remus flipped off the house, said “There, said it,” and then they drove on. The experience did remind Roman to turn off his Find My Phone app though, so their parents were good for one minuscule thing after all.)

They stopped at the cake shop, where the baker waved at Roman as he walked in and disappeared into the back, likely to get the cake. Roman must have set this up beforehand.

He reappeared with a simple cake, since obviously Roman couldn’t tip anyone off what they were planning. So it just said “Happy Birthday To Us!” It was a sheet cake long enough for the two of them both to fit alongside, so Remus lined up next to Roman, the two of them shared a grin, and then shoved their faces into the cake.

The baker sighed, seeming a tad irritated, but Remus stuck his tongue out into the section his head was in and managed to get a couple bites of cake down.

He pulled his head up to a universe covered in cake and very difficult to see. His face was covered in cake and frosting, and he tried as best he could to lick it off, laughing at Roman standing next to him doing the same.

The baker passed them both a couple of towels, and they both used it to wipe a decent amount of cake off of their faces, though Remus still managed to eat some of it.

“There’s a bathroom in the back,” the baker said with a sigh, picking up the ruined cake that Remus got the feeling he didn’t like having ruined and carrying it into the back, followed by Roman and Remus.

They both headed into the bathroom he directed them to, and Remus used the towel and the sink to wipe off the rest of his face and hair.

“How is he in the cake business if he doesn’t want to make smash cakes?” Remus asked Roman as he stepped back from the sink.

Roman raised his hands in a shrug and started cleaning off his own face. “Maybe they’re just not a big part of his business.”

“Or maybe he just wants to have his cake and eat it too,” Remus said with a grin.

Roman gave him a deadpan look. “Dude, come on. Don’t go for the low-hanging fruit.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Remus said brightly. “I’ve missed all the opportunities to make terrible jokes that don’t have to do with mental hospitals. Let me broaden my horizons.”

Roman shook his head, but he was wearing a fond smile, and he didn’t say anything else.

They headed back out to the car, grabbing the real cake Roman had gotten them to eat on the way out, and then Roman drove them back the other direction, towards the edge of town.

Remus watched the houses fly past with a growing grin on his face, and when they finally passed the “Come Back Soon” sign, he rolled down his window and flipped that off too, then stuck his head out the window and screamed, just for the hell of it.

“Careful,” Roman said with a laugh. “We’ve got a ways to go before they can’t track us with ease, you know!”

In answer, Remus screamed again.

He did climb back into the car after a second though, and beamed out at the signs of the countryside starting to pass them. Remus couldn’t ever imagine living in a city. It might have been easier to hide, but Remus was never going to live surrounded by walls ever again. No walls, none. He needed space space space.

They drove for three hours before stopping for gas, and Remus didn’t stop smiling once.

“How are we gonna afford gas by the way?” he asked.

In answer, Roman flashed three of their parents’ credit cards, and Remus cackled. Yes, they’d probably shut them off eventually, but not before they both got far, far away.

They bought a bunch of snacks from the gas station too, and Roman bought two sets of pocket knives.

They got back to the car, but before they headed out again, Roman grabbed Remus’ arm.

“What?” Remus asked.

“Well, you won’t need this any more,” Roman said, and Remus looked down just in time to see him use the pocket knife to cut off his day pass bracelet.

Remus stopped smiling, and looked down at his arm with nothing wrapped around it. Roman pulled away and drove off without seeming to give it much thought, but Remus turned to the window so Roman couldn’t see the faint look on his face as he stared down at his arm. His soulmark was still there, but the medical bracelet he’d taken off when they gave him the day pass was gone, and the day pass was gone now too, meaning nothing anyone could see could instantly tie him to that place, and no stranger they met would know Remus was supposed to be behind cold stone walls living his life by someone else’s assumptions of how he was feeling.

He wasn’t quite sure when he started crying, but eventually he was looking away from his wrist and out at the fields racing past them, tears dripping down his face.

They made it a good way from the exit of the highway before he started to sob, but Roman pulled the car over anyway, turning to Remus in alarm.

“Re?” he asked. “Re, are you okay?”

Remus didn’t have the first clue how to articulate anything he was feeling, so instead he held up his wrist, gestured to it, and made vague broken sounds.

Roman got it, because Roman always got it, so he put the hazard lights on, parked the car, and reached across the space to pull Remus into a hug. Remus sobbed into Roman’s arms for a good ten minutes, and Roman thankfully didn’t say anything, just held him close and let him.

There were stories about your soulmate understanding you more than anyone else, and Remus had always thought those stories were bullshit, because Roman got him better than any stranger he hadn’t met ever could. But if this was really what they were doing, if they were deciding they were soulmates because they fucking said so, and the universe could piss off, then Remus… well.

He could almost get it.

...

Chapter Three

#sanders sides #remus sanders #roman sanders #creativitwins #tw mental hospital #soulmate au #my fic

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douchebagbrainwaves · 4 months ago

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I WOULD HAVE BEEN DELIGHTED IF I'D REALIZED IN COLLEGE THAT THERE WERE PARTS OF THE WORLD THAT DIDN'T CORRESPOND TO REALITY, AND WORKED FROM THAT

So were the early Lisps. We're Jeff and Bob and we've built an easy to use web-based database as a system to allow people to collaboratively leverage the value of whatever solution you've got so far. This probably indicates room for improvement.1 What would you pay for right now?2 If you'd proposed at the time.3 I've read that the same is true in the military—that the swaggering recruits are no more likely to know they're being stupid. And yet by far the biggest problem.4

If you want to keep out more than bad people. I am self-indulgent in the sense of being very short, and also on topic. Another way to figure out how to describe your startup in one compelling phrase. Most people have learned to do a mysterious, undifferentiated thing we called business. The Facebook was just a way for readers to get information and to kill time, a way for readers to get information and to kill time, a programming language unless it's also the scripting language of MIT. Committees yield bad design. When you demo, don't run through a catalog of features. A couple weeks ago I had a thought so heretical that it really surprised me. If we want to fix the bad aspects of it—the things to remember if you want to start startups, they'll start startups.5

Cobol and hype Ada, Java also play a role—but I think it is the worry that made the broken windows theory famous, and the larger the organization, the more extroverted of the two paths should you take?6 And a safe bet is enough.7 Though in a sense attacking you. They didn't become art dealers after a difficult choice between that and a career in the hard sciences.8 You can, however, which makes me think I was wrong to emphasize demos so much before. Kids help. But the short version is that if you trust your instincts about people. That's becoming the test of mattering to hackers. One of the most successful startups almost all begin this way.9

But something is missing: individual initiative. He got away with it, but unless you're a captivating speaker, which most hackers aren't, it's better to play it safe. But if you want to avoid writing them. What you should learn as an intellectual exercise, even though you won't actually use it: Lisp is worth learning for the profound enlightenment experience you will have when you finally get it; that experience will make you think What did I do before x? If you had a handful of users who love you, and merely to call it an improved version of Python.10 The political correctness of Common Lisp probably expected users to have text editors that would type these long names for them. Be careful to copy what makes them good, rather than the company that solved that important problem. Since a successful startup founder, but that has not stood in the way of redesign.11 I would have been the starting point for their reputation. Whatever the upper limit is, we are clearly not meant to work in a big program.

I know because I've seen it burn off.12 For us the main indication of impending doom is when we don't hear from you. Maxim magazine publishes an annual volume of photographs, containing a mix of pin-ups and grisly accidents. One of the most important thing a community site can do is attract the kind of people who use the phrase software engineering shake their heads disapprovingly. We've barely given a thought to how to live with it. The usual way to avoid being taken by surprise by something is to be consciously aware of it.13 It took us a few iterations to learn to trust our senses. Gmail was one of the founders are just out of college, or even make sounds that tell what's happening.

And odds are that is in fact normal in a startup. For example, if you're starting a company whose only purpose is patent litigation. You're just looking for something to spark a thought.14 Wireless connectivity of various types can now be taken for granted.15 There is not a lot of wild goose chases, but I've never had a good way to look at what you've done in the cold light of morning, and see all its flaws very clearly. What sort of company might cause people in the future, and the classics.16 001 and understood it, for example. One trick is to ask yourself whether you'll care about it in the future. You need to use a trojan horse: to give people an application they want, including Lisp.

Notes

So it may be that some of the economy. Angels and super-angels will snap up stars that VCs miss.

I mean no more than most people, you would never have come to accept that investors are induced by startups is that they've focused on different components of it. I thought there wasn't, because people would do fairly well as down.

Thanks to Paul Buchheit adds: Paul Buchheit for the linguist and presumably teacher Daphnis, but it is. We're sometimes disappointed when a startup is taking the Facebook that might work is a sufficiently identifiable style, you should probably be multiple blacklists. I'm compressing the story.

Good and bad luck. The solution was a new search engine, but it is very polite and b the local startups also apply to the prevalence of systems of seniority. The University of Vermont: The First Industrial Revolution happen earlier? An earlier version of the companies fail, no matter how good you are listing in order to test whether that initial impression holds up.

So what ends up happening is that the lack of transparency. Letter to Ottoline Morrell, December 1912. Loosely speaking.

On Bullshit, Princeton University Press, 2005. Ashgate, 1998. No big deal.

Strictly speaking it's impossible to succeed in a startup to be important ones. The earnings turn out to be significantly pickier.

Many famous works of anthropology. You have to disclose the threat to potential investors are interested in graphic design. Japanese are only arrows on parts with unexpectedly sharp curves. Peter, Why Are We Getting a Divorce?

Microsoft could not have raised: Re: Revenge of the ingredients in our case, companies' market caps do eventually become a manager. I took so long.

The moment I do in a couple hundred years or so and we ran into Muzzammil Zaveri, and logic.

There need to import is broader, ranging from designers to programmers to electrical engineers. Parker, op.

We don't use Oracle. It should not try too hard to tell them what to think about where those market caps do eventually become a genuine addict. Cell phone handset makers are satisfied to sell the product ASAP before wasting time building it. One YC founder who used to build their sites.

In fact the secret weapon of the web and enables a new airport.

An Operational Definition. The rest exist to satisfy demand among fund managers for venture capital as an idea that was more rebellion which can vary a lot of face to face meetings.

And in World War II had disappeared in a startup you have the least important of the causes of the startup.

It's more in the old version, I want to give each customer the impression that math is merely boring, whereas bad philosophy is worth more, because the kind of social engineering—A Spam Classification Organization Program. I spent some time trying to describe what's happening till they measure their returns.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Harj Taggar, Peter Norvig, Sarah Harlin, Jackie McDonough, Eric Raymond, Fred Wilson, Trevor Blackwell, and Dan Giffin for sparking my interest in this topic.

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boyswanna-be-her · 2 years ago

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Lmao the walk was super fun but only two people showed up (my biggest fan, who was obvs gonna be there, and a new friend who we both met at the same time through volunteering which is cute and fun, he's a p good deal younger than us). Since it was just the 3 of us, we hiked the WHOLE trail system and had a blast. Got lunch afterwards. I invited them to come out to the beach with me, and my friend decided to follow me straight out and new boy went home first but then flaked and never ended up coming to the beach.

So the clown dance continued, we swam and sunned and laughed, came back to my apartment, eventually got hungry and went to dinner, our third meal together in a row today. At every point they were hesitant to leave and happy to be invited to do the next thing. The only reason why we're not together now is that we're supposed to lift tonight at their place with someone else joining, so they headed back to their own side of town while I went home to take a shower.

This is actually a great holding pattern as far as I'm concerned. We spend as much time and I'd be willing to spend with someone I was dating, and I enjoy spending time with them more than being alone (USUALLY more, sometimes they're in a mood and I'd rather split). It's been so long since I've ACTUALLY enjoyed someone's company more than my own that I wasn't sure that would ever even happen again for me. I'm happy with this. The chemistry is there but--and holy shit i can't believe im saying this--I don't actually want to risk our friend...ship? Lmao? Who am i?

I also made an offhand comment about planning something fun and they responded "I don't really drink so that can make it hard" and of course in light of recent life changes on my side I'm like 👀👀👀 that is the opposite of a problem! But it also makes me sad bc they have been drinking with me some on our off hours and it sounds like they were just trying to keep up with me/not murder the vibe and that was SO not necessary. It also makes some stuff track more in retrospect (like "oh what was up with them that night?" ends up being "they were sleepy bc they dont drink booze normally"). Anyway, since it came up organically I told them that I was actually working on my sobriety and that it was difficult with my parents as enablers/people who want a drinking buddy from their child--and wouldnt you fucking know, bc we have everything else in common, they also have the SAME dynamic w their parents. And they seemed happy that sobriety was something I was thinking about and valued, but possibly more relieved that I actually DO enjoy our time together when we're both sober and want to do more of that.

We're finally getting into some deeper shit and I'm learning about their history and what makes them tick. Like they speak their mind super freely, but they are SO private about their family and personal life to the point that it feels almost too intimate to learn some of this shit that people who have known them longer are oblivious about. On the other hand, I'm a open book about everything I've been through and my mental health but good fucking luck getting an earnest take out of me on anything unless i deeply trust you. It makes for a weird game of learning about each other. I thanked them today for being a friend who's down to clown with all of my stupid suggestions and admitted that I normally just do everything alone but it's more fun with them. They expressed it all back to me. Alone for a long time, fine with that, surprised to find me, thankful for that too. It's just like, hm. Very comfy. And I don't worry about being wanted or wearing out my welcome, and I don't get taken advantage of, and they stand up for me and do nice things for me, and feed me and worry about me. That's such a nice change for me from being either The Provider or a person who wants for nothing or no one. It's scary to want someone in my life, even in this capacity, but it's more rewarding than I thought it could be without, yknow, actively trying to date or hook up. I feel like the possibility of something more is stalking us from location to location like the monster in It Follows--sometimes our knees are nestled together while we talk and it's breathing down our necks and sometimes we're both distracted and moody and it's not something either is thinking too much about, but fuck if it isn't always there and a thing I think we will inevitably make a choice about in the future but.

#bfr

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pleb-the-original · 1 year ago

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Day 30: Create Your Own Cryptid

(so, this one I knew right from the start who would star. I've had an idea for a long time now about this little cryptid named bloodlust who actually went onto forums discussing him and using their belief to game the system and grant him new abilities. this is the moment where he finally lets them in on his little secret) lookout> anyone gotten anything recently? I’ve heard he’s been in the west coast area tracker> you talking about the new sequoia footage? lookout> yep. tracker> nothing yet on my end User San has joined! lookout> oh hey. newbie. San> Hello. A friend told me you guys specialized in cryptids? lookout> just the one. we ain’t exactly bigfoot hunters here. tracker> remember that one guy who tried to send in that photoshop of bloodlust with bigfoot? lookout> oh yeah that guy. literally made an account just to show off his art and claimed it was real. San> What happened to him? lookout> ban. San> Yikes. Anyways, what did you guys call him? lookout> bloodlust. tracker> yeah it sounds stupid, but that’s what he wants to call himself San> And you guys are okay with that name? lookout> sure. better than being called the Holloway monster or something like that. San> I guess that makes sense. Anyways, I came here because I was told that you guys could help out with identifying this thing I saw? tracker> better not be another photoshop. San> Don’t worry, it's some footage from my doorbell cam. San> september21.mp4 lookout> well, that’s tracker> he cleared out a whole raccoon den? San> The weird thing however is that when I went out to check when I woke up, the bodies were gone. There were traces of blood everywhere but it was just scraps. lookout> man tracker> good footage. clear angles and everything San> Thank you. lookout> it’ll take a bit to be verified. but I think this is front page material. tracker> better than the sequoia footage. San> Really?

lookout> yeah. almost made us think it was an actual amateur sighting San> What does that mean? tracker> wait, you really think? lookout> yep. I mean come on, this footage is perfect, too perfect. its at a perfect angle with every body in frame and of course the main attraction himself placed dead set in the middle. San> What are you getting at here? lookout> i’ve been modding this place for a long time. do you know how often we seem to get new members popping in and out of the forums leaving behind tiny pieces of evidence? tracker> oh great, he’s going off about his theory again San> Theory? tracker> his stupid idea that every new person that joins the forum is actually bloodlust himself in disguise using stolen phones. conspiracy much? besides, he’s a cryptid. i get that they’re smarter than normal animals but not that smart. lookout> But it just doesn’t make sense! tracker> give it up already. you’re gonna scare the newbie away. lookout> his name is literally San. as in SANGUINE tracker> touch grass. that isn’t even a real word tracker> look kid, I don’t know what he’s on about but trust me. everyone else isn’t like that San> Well that’s a shame. tracker> what? why San> he’s been the only one out of all of you to actually figure me out tracker> no lookout> wait, is that actually San> He even got the name reference right. I thought after finding that word that using it would be too obvious. But this has been a fun game nevertheless. lookout> HOLY SHIT tracker> no, it’s gotta be a bit. it has too San> Are you sure? lookout> Ok ok, if that is really you, then find me. I’ll send you my address in dms rq. tracker> dude, this is how you get scammed. San> Alright. tracker> come on guys, this is insane tracker> guys tracker> well don’t say I didn’t warn you lookout> he’s outside. tracker> what lookout> he is waving from outside my backyard tracker> no, you live in the midwest, he couldn’t have lookout> I dunno man, heard he has connection with demons tracker> ok, then send some real proof lookout> 478669856875.png tracker> did tracker> did you just take a selfie with the cryptid we’ve been tracking lookout> I have a name you know. tracker> bloodlust? lookout> In the scales. Glad to finally be able to meet one of my fans in real life. I’ve been following this place for a long time. Now that someone has finally pulled the curtain out, how about I do you all a favor. Lookout here will set up a Q&A for me later. A grand prize. tracker> wow. lookout> And honestly tracker, I’ve gotta thank you personally. It was your deductive skills that granted me my wings. tracker> wait, how? lookout> Save it for later. It’s a good story. Now then, lookout here says he’s got a spare cat bed I could use. I bid you all adieu until tomorrow. User lookout has logged off

#writing #creative writing #prompt list #writeblr #cryptidinjuly #cryptidinjuly2023 #fantasy #cryptid #create your own cryptid #bloodlust #the character #not the word #before you ask #he heard it during a news report and thought it sounded like a good name #forum #unreality #the page break is so this hopefully actually posts #I think last time I was breaking the tumblr character limit #oops

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talesfrommedinastation · 2 years ago

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OC Prompt: r/amitheasshole

I saw this the other day, and while I can't find the original prompt, I had so much fun writing this from Sjael's Drummer's perspective! I love Reddit, lol

Taken from this chapter from Far Past the Ring:

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AITA for being scientifically accurate?

I’m (F27) a postdoctoral scholar in chemical engineering, and am currently conducting research in the field. I’m looking at new places for potential colonization, as well as trying to figure out if this soil is garbage or not (hint, it’s not great, not bad).

While I’ve been conducting research, I’ve been sort of seeing this guy (M,30’s? He hasn’t exactly stated). Let’s call him ‘Ryan’, because he looks like his name would be Ryan and he’d work in accounting, trust me on this one.

(Look at that man and tell me he doesn't look like he'd get excited over an audit. TELL ME.)

He’s camping with his family (M 30’s, M 30’s, and F13, all his siblings) nearby. Ryan is awesome–just amazing. I’ve never met anyone as wonderful as him before. He’s so smart, honest, devoted to his family, and a great listener. The man knows everything about machines and computers, but if you’re confused about something, he doesn’t treat you like an idiot. If my papa was alive, he’d be all over Ryan like white on rice.

So, Ryan and I hooked up for the first time last night. He is on the spectrum, but man, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who communicates as quickly and efficiently as he does. His post coital mood was to ask all about my vanilla orchid–I mean, who does that? The man is inquisitive as well as bright and kind. I’m really falling for him.

Well, I wanted to impress him, so after we had sex, I made a huge helping of mushroom pho from scratch, and invited his family over for dinner. Ryan even helped me cook, he’s such a sweetie.

Now, his siblings look nothing like him–Ryan is very pale, with light hair, and slender, while his sister is very tan, short, but with bright blond hair. His brothers are his opposites, they’re tan like their sister, one has long dark hair, and the other one is huge and bald. You wouldn’t even think they’re siblings. I figured they all had different fathers, it happens, I don’t judge.

At any rate, I found out the armies in this region are completely staffed by clone soldiers, and I brought this up at dinner, and pointed out how ridiculous it was. It sounds stupid, right? After all, how inefficient is a clone army?

If you wanted to get rid of them, wouldn’t you just genetically modify a disease after studying the clones, and then drop in within their encampments? Boom. War done in less then two weeks, no one could come up with a vaccine that quick. Almost every war has been won, in a weird way, by biological reasons, rather than battles.

I thought Ryan–the smartest, most rational guy I’ve ever hooked up with–would agree with me.

Nope! Ryan was infuriated with me. Stopped eating his pho, and just lectured me on how incorrect and rude I was being. Pointed out how the science allows for deviance within clones, and didn’t I as a Ph.D know any better?

Then a bomb was dropped–turns out Ryan is a clone! He's a veteran of that army! And so are his siblings!

I wanted to just sink into my soup, I was so embarrassed. His brother and sister tried to cheer me up afterwards, but Ryan was silent for the rest of dinner, and didn’t even say goodbye to me when they went back to their campsite.

I like Ryan a lot, but I’m pretty sure I ruined my chances with him forever because I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

AITA? It is the truth, clones generally have higher rates of close immune systems, after all, that’s how we studied medicine and effects for many years. But Ryan’s correct too, and I really upset him, just as we were getting close too. Ugh, what do I do?

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genowire · 25 days ago

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Will we ever trust AI?

Right now, it’s obvious: AI can’t be trusted. It makes silly mistakes and hallucinates, revealing that it truly has no idea about the world. Those gross outliers are easy to catch. Worse are the more nuanced mistakes or hallucinations that creep into otherwise convincing looking work: those could be code fixes that sound super reasonable but are just wrong, well-written articles that – somewhere in the middle – become obscene, or images which, upon closer inspection, have obvious biological flaws. But there are also tons of tools and companies out there who claim to be able to get this under control. Can they create AIs that are fundamentally trustworthy? The answer is: yes and no.

Finding our tolerance for mistakes

If we define trustworthy as “never, ever makes a mistake”, then this will never be achieved. But if we define trustworthy as “make less drastic or fewer mistakes than humans” there is a good chance that we will see AI systems that are on par or better than your typical human colleague. For things like monitoring machines and detecting when something is about to go wrong, reading human hand writing, playing chess or go – AI isn’t perfect, but it does beat human performance. But even if AI systems end up making fewer mistakes – it’s still unlikely that we will trust it as much as we’d trust a human colleague. That’s because it typically doesn’t make the same *type* of mistakes – and that is hard to accept. A system that, according to a human, makes a completely stupid mistake will not be trusted, even if the side effects are, on average, smaller. Take autonomous cars. They make far fewer mistakes but the mistakes they do make are shocking in their stupidity. “That would never happen with a human” is a killer argument to an otherwise much more reliable system. Maybe we’ll learn how to deal with that in the future and accept that robots make different mistakes than humans – and fewer! In some cases, however, absolute trust is needed, and we cannot tolerate even the smallest mistakes. When something is truly at stake, human life, an unrecoverable disaster such as a nuclear power plant blowing up, or cases of discrimination. This is also what most government regulations focus on: Which type of application can use an AI? If errors result in a catastrophe: then AI is not allowed (or it can only operate in a smaller, well controlled environment and the true risk is handled elsewhere).

We won’t get perfect AI systems

But why can’t AI systems ever be perfect? Because they literally don’t know what they are talking about. Put differently by Stefan Wrobel recently: GenAI systems produce the likely, not the true. Since they are based on human and incomplete information there is always a chance of something missing or simply not being likely enough. Yes, we can build tons of safeguards around those AI systems to ensure that some mistakes cannot happen. We can filter for harassment in statements, we can forbid certain words or actions, we can even guarantee that code produced by an AI is syntactically (but not semantically!) correct – but we can never be sure that every possible way of AI going “astray” is covered. In a way this is just like the constant competition between virus detectors and virus creators. Whenever the detectors are getting close to catching up with every possible virus variant, a new one shows up. So if you are looking for a perfect AI – you won’t get it. The real question is: Do you need it? Or are you just afraid of being faced with mistakes from an AI system that are, well, really hard to swallow because *you* wouldn’t make them. Remember how many “human” mistakes you make that an AI makes at a fraction of the likelihood. "Article from knime" Read the full article

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bouwrites · 2 years ago

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Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 9

Nosy Crestologists

Ao3.

First, Previous, Next.

Story under read-more.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know that thing keeps records,” Veery hisses.

“I already said that’s my bad!” Claude protests. “Complaining about it isn’t helping, you know!”

“Then hurry up!”

“It’s delicate!” Claude groans. “I can’t believe Linhardt wouldn’t come. Why didn’t he just erase it when he saw it?”

Ugh. Linhardt. Telling Claude in two vague sentences how to delete the records is not “helping”. Then again, it’s two sentences more than they’d have, and they certainly can’t wait and spy on Professor Hanneman doing it to figure out the process.

Veery’s tail lashes wildly, and he grabs it in his hands just to ensure it doesn’t hit anything. He’s not willing to test his self-control right now. “It’s your fault in the first place.”

“Yes,” Claude says through his teeth. “As I’ve admitted. What more do you want from me? We’re going to fix it! It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine!”

“Relax. No one but Linhardt has seen it, and Linhardt won’t tell. We just need to get this, and we’ll be clear.”

Veery fidgets, ears swiveling wildly to pick up every little sound. “They’re going to find out and Lady Rhea’s going to hunt me down and I’m going to have to hide underground for the rest of my life,” he mutters.

“Veery, calm down. It’s not that bad.”

“I don’t want to live in Abyss! Abyss sucks! Yuri’s a terrible leader! He doesn’t even know what a trap is!”

“…Technically, Aelfric is the leader of Abyss.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

Claude shrugs. “Everyone seems to love him.”

“I don’t trust him,” Veery pouts. “He’s human and he’s part of the church and he’ll hunt me down just like Rhea will.”

Claude makes an uncomfortable face. “Is that really wh- gah! Shit.” The device sparks, making him flinch back, but he’s back at it in the next moment. “Is that really what you think of humans?”

Veery grits his teeth. “You all haven’t stopped fighting since I’ve met you,” he says. “Every chance you get you run out to kill someone, even when it’s stupid. You tear each other and yourselves apart with ridiculous standards, drive families away from each other, and punish each other with death for doing what your own systems make you do. The moment anyone has any reason to come after me, I’ll be hunted just like everyone else.”

Claude does visibly flinch at that. “That seems… a little harsh.”

“The only time you should ever fight is when your survival is on the line,” Veery growls. “To eat. To get away. Not to punish and kill. I don’t understand why you humans fight so much over every little thing, but it’s clear enough that no one’s an exception. Especially not someone who doesn’t fit in.” Veery shivers, thinking about what can happen. His voice is barely more than a whine at this point, but he continues and says, “If Rhea decides she doesn’t like me having a Crest, I’m going to have to leave or she’ll skin me and I… I don’t want to leave.”

“You…” Claude stills, guarded and eyeing Veery carefully. “All that about how terrible humans are, and you don’t want to leave? If you hate us so much, why don’t you go home? No one’s stopping you.”

Why doesn’t he? It’s true, he hates fighting and humans never seem to stop doing that. For dumb reasons, too. Every single thing about last month is a mess and a half and it’s only worse when Veery finally has Miklan’s situation properly explained to him. The church executes those people from the Western Church even though there isn’t any need to the month before that. The month before that, when Veery first meets these people, they are being made to slaughter militia! There’s no reason for it. No one gains anything from those deaths except more pain.

And yet… that’s not why he’s in Garreg Mach in the first place. Veery isn’t here to fight. He’s not here to get involved. He just happens to be getting dragged in because of other things. And he’s a hypocrite, anyway. It’s not like Veery can’t say no when Claude asks him to help. He can turn down being involved in this investigation to find Flayn, even. Seteth will despise him for it, and understandably so, but he can.

The problem is that none of that has ever been the point. Veery comes to Garreg Mach to learn about humans, the good and the bad. He’s staying because he still has a lot to learn and because he has friends here who will help him. And because those people are important to him, and he’ll miss them if he’s never allowed to see them again.

“I never said I hate you.” Veery frowns. “I want to stay because I like you.” It’s nothing but the truth. “But the church…” He shakes his head, unable to find the right words. “And I… Wait- someone’s coming.” Veery’s turns his head, panic rising in his chest. “From… from the library, I think. Hurry up!”

That spurs Claude back into gear, tinkering more with the device. “It’s probably just Tomas. Calm down.”

Veery chews his lip and listens. Step. Step. “Doesn’t Tomas use a cane?” he asks.

“Yeah. Why?”

“There’s no cane. It’s not Tomas.”

“Shit.” Claude frantically fiddles with the device for a few more tense moments. Veery holds his breath as he keeps his ears trained on the footsteps. They’re coming down the corridor from the library. If they leave now they can get out before this person comes around into the main hallway. “Got it! Come on, let’s go!”

Veery grabs Claude’s arm and drags him out the door. Hurry, hurry, hurry-

“Well, well. What could you two possibly be doing here at this hour?”

Fuck. It’s Professor Hanneman. Veery knew this stupid device was dumb. Stupid Crests and stupid Claude and this stupid freaky machine. This is entirely Claude’s fault.

“Professor Hanneman!” Claude says smoothly, as if they aren’t in possibly the worst-case scenario. “We were looking for you, actually!”

They’re what?

“Well past curfew?” Professor Hanneman asks with all the sage amusement of someone who already knows the full situation and is only humoring the troublemaker.

“Technically, Veery doesn’t have a curfew,” Claude says. “And he had so many questions about Crests that we just completely lost track of time. He’s never seen one before, you know, until he got involved with us. He’s still trying to wrap his head around what they even are.”

Professor Hanneman looks down his nose at Claude, examining him through his spectacles. “Is this true, Veery?”

Sure, if it’ll get them away from here. “Yes.”

“Well, why didn’t you say you were interested in Crests?” Professor Hanneman suddenly gets a large grin on his face. “Into my office immediately. Allow me to explain absolutely everything about them. Oh, this will take a while, but I’m sure if you’re out this late you have the time.”

Veery glances helplessly to Claude, who smiles easily and follows Professor Hanneman inside. This is a terrible idea. Veery knows this, and yet he follows anyway. There’s no escape route.

Professor Hanneman closes the door behind them. And locks it.

Yikes.

“Now, as much I would love to tell you all about the wonders of Crests,” Hanneman says, crossing his arms and blocking off the door with his body, “I feel that as your teacher, I must first take a moment to remind you both not to touch equipment you do not understand.” Veery calls it, honestly. With the cat out of the bag, even Claude winces a little. “Not only can it be dangerous, but some of this equipment is extraordinarily expensive. It would not do for curious students to damage it because they do not know what they are doing.”

Thoroughly chastised and panicking a little, Veery blurts out, “I’m not a student.”

“Even so,” Professor Hanneman nods to him, “you should ask and find someone who knows how it works before attempting to use equipment you’re unfamiliar with.”

“He didn’t touch it,” Claude says suddenly. “I’d seen you do it a few times and thought I could manage it.”

Professor Hanneman sighs. “And you did, but now you are in a tough spot because you did not fully understand what you were using. Is that not so?”

“Uh… yeah. My bad.”

“Good. I hope you both learn a valuable lesson from this.”

Veery nods eagerly, hoping to be let go and never speak of this incident again. Professor Hanneman already knows, so Veery will just find Yuri, get some sanctuary for a while until he can figure out how to best get back to Albinea and he’ll hopefully keep his hide.

“That said,” Professor Hanneman continues, “as a Crest Scholar, I must applaud you both for not only discovering an as-yet undiscovered Crest, but taking the initiative to study it on your own. I must say, even I had never imagined that a Crest would appear in a completely different species! Why, if I had not stumbled across that record in my analyzer, I would never have guessed that you of all people bear a Crest, Veery.”

Great. Fuck.

“Why, between your Crest and Professor Byleth’s, this could not be a more exciting time to be a Crest Scholar! Veery, I absolutely beg of you, please cooperate with me for my research! A Crest appearing in a non-human species is… well, completely unprecedented. Your Crest could change Crestology as we know it! Tell me, do you know, can the agell make viable offspring with humans? That could explain how the Crest got into your bloodline…”

Other way around, most likely, though the breeding thing isn’t the dumbest idea of how it happens. (Though, considering there’s like twelve all supposed to have appeared at the same time, it’s either extremely unlikely or that was some party and the Elite’s parents were weird. Honestly, though, at this point Veery would not be surprised.)

Veery is too busy panicking, though, to think about whether agell and humans can actually produce cubs.

“Professor,” Claude cuts in. “I understand your excitement, but… you’re scaring poor Veery half to death.”

Veery wants to protest, but it’s true, so he flattens his ears back and looks at the floor instead. And, oh, he’s hiding behind Claude again. It’s not embarrassing if Claude doesn’t call him out on it. Jerk.

Professor Hanneman clears his throat. “Oh, of course. My deepest apologies. Given your sneaking around and the church’s rhetoric on their origins, you no doubt want this kept a secret. Well, worry not. My loyalty is to the advancement of Crestology, and to my students, not to the church. Your secret is safe with me.”

What?

“You’re serious?” Claude asks, dumbfounded. “I thought you had to report every Crest to Lady Rhea.”

Professor Hanneman smirks wickedly, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes as he says, “I am contractually obligated to record the Crests of the Officer’s Academy students, yes, but Veery here is not a student in any official capacity, is he?” He chuckles. “Besides, if it is in the best interest of my students, I would gladly ignore such a silly rule. Er… don’t tell Seteth.”

“Pfft, hahahaha!” Claude bursts. “Oh, goddess, you’ve no idea how much trouble you’re saving us.” Veery elbows Claude roughly, earning a yelp. “Hey! Geez. It’s fine, see? Professor Hanneman will keep it a secret.”

“You are still uneasy,” Professor Hanneman says calmly. “Allow me, then, to elaborate that my secrecy is under no conditions. If you choose not to assist in my research, I will still not report this.” He levels an intelligent gaze at them both. “It is clear to me that you two know much more about this Crest than I do – which is hardly surprising, considering I cannot find any mention of such a Crest, or even such a situation – but even I know that the church won’t take kindly to an agell having a Crest.

“I know all too well the lengths people will go to for the sake of Crests.” Professor Hanneman sighs heavily. “There is already an unfortunate xenophobia running rampant here in Fódlan. I cannot even begin to imagine what life must be like for you as it is. If knowledge of your Crest threatens even people’s faith, the reaction would be… I would not wish that upon you. So please, trust that I am as good as my word, and that not a soul will hear about this from me.”

Veery absolutely does not trust him, but… what else is he supposed to do? Run away? Yuri says trust is a choice. Veery doesn’t really think so. He can choose to act like he trusts Professor Hanneman, and in the absence of evidence that he’s lying, it’s his best option at the moment, but in his heart, he can’t make himself believe it.

…He also doesn’t fully trust that Claude or Sylvain or Mercedes or Leonie or anyone else here won’t turn on him, skin him, and use his fur as a coat. But he acts like he does. It’s not… not trust. Not in his heart. It’s… more like hope. A hope that they’ll surpass his expectations and prove themselves worthy of trust.

It’s been months, and he honestly still doesn’t know where the limit is. Why he still can’t trust these people, despite them being nothing but kind to him for so long now. He… suspects it has to do with the church, because no matter what they’re like individually, they all still technically answer to Lady Rhea and the church and that… Veery doesn’t trust that one bit.

Or he hopes that’s what it is. That’s what he tells himself it is, because if the truth is that he just can’t ever bring himself to fully trust a human then he’s… not sure why he’s here in the first place.

“Veery?” Claude asks gently. “What do you think?”

Veery doesn’t look up at Professor Hanneman when he says, “Fine. I’ll… choose to trust you for now.”

“I thank you, for placing your trust in me,” Professor Hanneman says. “Now, do either of you want to explain everything you’ve learned to me? I will not force you, of course, but you well know that I am intrigued.”

“No,” Veery mutters. “I’d rather not.”

“Veery…” Claude says. “Far be it from me to talk about trust, but… Professor Hanneman will be able to figure out a lot more than we can on our own. Hell, Linhardt, too. He already knows, so what’s the harm in trying to learn more from him?”

Claude has a point. Veery hates that Claude has a point. He grits his teeth. “…You explain it.”

“You sure? I do think we should tell him, but I won’t share anything you don’t want me to.”

“Just do it. It won’t get any worse, so you may as well.”

“…Okay.” Claude takes a deep breath and begins to explain everything. How their investigation is actually not about Crests at all, but about the Relics and their power. How Veery’s heart is reminiscent of a Crest Stone in all the ways that seem to matter. How that connection makes them think Veery likely has a Crest of his own, which originates in him. The incident at Conand Tower with Miklan and the black beast that is actually just the Lance of Ruin itself and how, if they’re right, the Heroes’ Relics are the bones and hearts of another unknown species closely related to the agell.

It’s a long story, and Veery only mostly listens to it, but Professor Hanneman listens the whole time with rapt attention. He was probably a very good student in school, when he attended. If he attended. Veery honestly doesn’t know how schools work beyond the Officer’s Academy.

When Claude does eventually stop talking, Professor Hanneman slowly shakes his head. “Why… I am speechless. Utterly speechless. The mere thought of all of this seems almost preposterous and yet… if it’s true, a great many things would make sense.” He fiddles with his moustache a bit before saying, “There is a – somewhat heretical – theory within the study of Crestology that the Crests originate from the Crest Stones, but no one has ever been able to prove how the Crests might have been given to those first Crested Heroes, so it has been largely discarded. If Crests truly originate in another species entirely, then some mechanism must have gifted them unto humans.”

“And that’s where I’m stuck, as well,” Claude says. “Technically speaking, there’s no reason it can’t be the goddess, though, so I wouldn’t say the theory alone is heretical.”

Professor Hanneman shakes his head, smiling. “You are not the church, Claude. And a word of caution; sometimes, you make that fact a little too evident.”

Claude makes a face. “Agh, understood, professor.”

Professor Hanneman hums. “The means by which we can give Crests to the Crestless… Veery, I’m afraid I must ask you once more to assist in my research. If you are on the right track here, and I believe you very well may be, study of your… shall we say, undiluted Crest may shed some light on how Crests first appeared in humans. And I must stress how truly revolutionary this research may be. It could completely change the future of Fódlan!”

Maybe, except Veery doesn’t like the idea of being experimented on. He’s a person, not a… thing to be tested. Especially not when it’s someone so thoroughly untrustworthy doing the testing. If Professor Hanneman honestly won’t try to force him, though, he can… try to cooperate. Maybe. On a case by case basis. “…I’ll think about it,” Veery says eventually, and it’s all he’s willing to commit to Professor Hanneman.

Professor Hanneman beams as if he’s received the greatest gift known to man.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Veery thinks about not following through on his deal with Linhardt, if only because Linhardt clearly takes the bare minimum of following through with his end and he will likely be subject to much worse examination by Professor Hanneman soon enough, but eventually decides that he’ll do what he says he will.

Even if things don’t go according to plan, a deal is a deal and Linhardt does technically do his part, so here Veery is in Linhardt’s room.

(Honestly, it’s almost welcome to be gawked at in this form. He’s so used to everyone wanting to see his shifted form that this a lot less annoying in comparison.)

“It will probably be easiest if you sit in the chair. Spin it around, so that I can see your back. I’ll sit on the bed while I draw.”

“Sure.” Veery grabs the chair and positions it before stripping off all of his clothes and sitting backwards in it. The backrest makes a nice little bar to lean on, so he just crosses his arms, rests his chin on them, and closes his eyes.

“So, tell me,” Linhardt says as Veery begins hearing the scratching of charcoal on paper, “how did you learn that you have a Crest? If even Professor Hanneman and I didn’t suspect it, I don’t see why you and Claude were so suspicious that you went out of your way to test it.”

Veery purses his lips and swishes his tail. Should he say? Professor Hanneman already knows and whatever can be said about Linhardt, Veery doesn’t honestly think he’ll go out of his way to share the story. Claude does say Linhardt might have some insights, too, just like Professor Hanneman. Still… the more people that know the details, the more likely things will get out.

Then again, it’s not his heart that he particularly cares about. The Crest alone is the problem. The rest is just… detail.

He sighs. “It actually started when I asked Claude about the Heroes’ Relics.”

“Oh? What about them?”

“Well, I was confused because I thought the Sword of the Creator was made from Saint Seiros’ bones. You know, since everyone was saying that that’s what was in the casket and that casket is where the Sword was. Claude, uh, corrected me on that. I’m still learning the history, so… anyway.” Veery hums. “We started talking about the Crest Stones, and I mentioned that they sound a lot like my heart.”

“Your heart?” Linhardt asks. “What do you mean by that?”

Veery shrugs. “I mean, at the time I assumed human hearts are the same as agell, but, uh, there’s a special part of my heart. Claude calls it my Heart Stone. I just call it my heart. There’s not really any specific word for it in your language that I know of. But, basically it’s where my magic is centered. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to shift. I was taught that it’s where the soul is, too, and I know that some kind of power remains in it even after an agell dies.”

“I see how you would compare it to a Crest Stone, especially if you’re assuming the Relics themselves are made of bone. Say, would you mind if I examined your heart for a moment? I’d love a look at this for myself.”

Veery casts a suspicious look back to Linhardt. “…How?”

“With magic, of course. You won’t feel a thing. Probably. I’d only have to touch your chest for a moment.”

Well… that doesn’t sound so bad. “I guess.”

“Excellent.” Linhardt puts his drawing utensils aside and slips off the bed to approach him. He touches Veery’s shoulder first, and then leans over and places his other hand over Veery’s chest, and Veery feels his fur prickle with that familiar feeling of magic. “Interesting. It definitely is different than a human heart. There’s some sort of… well, I can hardly describe it better than you did. If only I could get my hands on a Crest Stone to compare…”

“Crest Stones are too big,” Veery says. “Or, at least, the one in the Lance of Ruin is. And I, uh… heard it. It’s not agell. Claude and I thought the same thing, but it’s something else.”

“You heard the Lance of Ruin? You can talk to the Relics?”

“Not like that.” Veery frowns. He’s going to have to explain what happened at Conand Tower. What fun.

He gets through it, eventually, and Linhardt doesn’t move much from where he stands holding his hand over Veery’s heart, and that tingle of magic doesn’t go away. “I see,” Linhardt murmurs. “Fascinating. How curious that all this seems to imply that Crests have their origins in a non-human species. What manner of creature might they be from, I wonder?”

“Claude asked that, too,” Veery says. “I don’t think there’s any way to know without finding them. If they’re not extinct. But given how similar they seem to be to agell…”

“Most likely, the original form of such creatures resembles that beast Miklan turned into.”

Veery wrinkles his nose. “I… Not exactly, but sort of. That thing is an abomination. With what I felt from the Lance of Ruin, it’s really no surprise it was so twisted. But… yes, it should probably look something like it. Vaguely.”

“Hmm…” Linhardt shifts his hand a little, furrowing his brow as he does whatever he’s doing. “And how much can you tell me about this corruption you felt from th-”

“Hey! Lin!” Veery yelps and jumps as the door of Linhardt’s room suddenly slams open. “Where’s th- Woah!!!”

As quickly, and loudly, as he comes in, Caspar turns around and slams the door shut. Veery winces, lamenting his poor ears. Linhardt sighs heavily.

“Sorry!” Caspar screams through the door. “I didn’t think you’d be- I mean I never expected- I mean- aaaAAAAAUUUGHHHH!”

“Caspar. Use your words, please,” Linhardt says flatly. “And come in. There’s no point in talking through the door.”

The door opens just enough for Caspar to poke his head through. “Really? Is it- NOPE! No! Still naked!” He slams the door once more, retreating outside.

“What is he freaking out about?” Veery asks, looking to Linhardt for clarification.

“The goddess only knows.” Linhardt sighs again. “Anyway, I’ll just get back to sketching these markings of yours.”

This is… weird, but Veery doesn’t pretend to understand humans. “Okay.” He leans on his arms again, closing his eyes. He can still hear shuffling outside, and not-very-quiet muttering. “…Caspar’s pacing outside the door,” he says, hoping Linhardt knows how to calm Caspar down.

(Veery isn’t even sure what has him riled up in the first place, so he’s passing the buck to Linhardt on this one.)

“Oh, for the love of- What did you need, Caspar?”

There’s a fiddling of the handle, like Caspar is going to open it but ultimately the door doesn’t swing open. “Why’s Veery naked in your room?!” Caspar asks suddenly, and very loudly.

“…Is that weird?” Veery asks. “I thought private rooms are where it’s appropriate to be naked.”

“They are,” Linhardt says. “Which is why we’re doing this here in the first place.”

“Gyaaah!” Caspar screams. “I do not need to hear this!”

“Oh, calm down, Caspar. You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Linhardt says.

“What are you talking about?” Caspar screams. “I didn’t want to see that!”

“Then perhaps you should knock before entering someone else’s room.” Linhardt counters.

Veery just frowns. “I’m naked all the time when I shift, though, and no one cares about that.”

“AAARRRGGGHHHH! WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?! NOW I’M NEVER GOING TO UNSEE IT!!!!!!”

“Caspar!” A new voice joins the chorus, authoritative and stern. “You are making a scene. What in the world is all this screaming about?”

Caspar squeaks gracelessly. “Edelgard! Uh…”

Linhardt groans.

“I was just… um…”

“Explain yourself plainly, Caspar,” Edelgard says, tone cautioning. “And quickly.”

Caspar, for once, is deathly silent.

“Will you both,” Linhardt groans, “please leave me alone? I am quite busy.”

“Are you?” Edelgard asks before the door handle starts moving again. “Because if you are simply napping agai-” Her voice suddenly cuts off when she looks into the room and sees Veery.

For a long, long moment, they all stare in silence. Veery just leans on his arms and sighs. Edelgard’s face slowly turns a slightly concerning shade of red.

And then, as quickly as she comes, she turns around and slams the door shut. Veery swears he hears the wood splinter from the force, and his poor ears are ringing.

“Hey! That’s what I did too!” Caspar says, enthusiastic once more, for some reason.

“Humans are so weird,” Veery mutters. “What is even happening?”

Edelgard clears her throat. Loudly. “I… feel, as your house leader, that I should remind you, Linhardt, of the rules about sexual relations in the dorms.”

Linhardt blinks for a moment, looking dazed, or maybe dozing. “Oh, is that what this is about? Calm down, I have no interest in Veery.”

“Wait, this is about mating?” Veery asks. “Why would I do that with Linhardt?”

“Hey!” Caspar screams through the door. “Don’t talk about my best friend like that!”

“Like what?” Linhardt asks. “I concur, honestly. We hardly even know each other.”

“Then please,” Edelgard says, once more with control over her voice, “explain what exactly you are doing.”

“It is a simple examination,” Linhardt says. “I realized when we fought together in Abyss that his biology likely isn’t exactly the same as a human’s, so I’m giving him a full examination. So I can heal him better.”

Well. Looks like Linhardt really isn’t going to spread news of Veery’s Crest around if he’s lying even to his own house leader. Veery looks to Linhardt, who looks casual as ever – bored even, and feels… appreciative.

“Oh!” Caspar laughs. “Thank the goddess. I should’ve known it was something like that.”

“How… unexpectedly proactive of you,” Edelgard says slowly. “If that is the case, then good job, Linhardt. It is good to see you taking initiative for a change. Please remember to share your findings with Professor Manuela, and Mercedes and Marianne, the next time you see them.”

Linhardt yawns. “Sure. I’ll do that. Maybe.”

“You will,” Edelgard says firmly. “We’ll leave you alone now so you can perform your examination, but I expect to see your report in Professor Manuela’s hands as soon as you are finished.”

Veery hears her and Caspar walk away. “It appears I have no choice,” Linhardt says tiredly. “I will, of course, not report anything unnecessary but I will have to actually examine you. Frankly, Professor Manuela should have done so the moment you decided to assist with academy missions.”

Veery wrinkles his nose. He is told to get a physical exam with her before he starts participating in missions, but… “Professor Manuela smells like alcohol and disappointment. I don’t… really want her touching me. And I don’t trust the church.”

“That’s fair. I’m already stuck doing it anyway, so if you don’t mind.”

Veery sighs. “I guess. Thanks for covering.”

“Think nothing of it. I hardly want to deal with the consequences of Edelgard knowing about your Crest. Trust me, it’s a lot less trouble this way.”

Veery has no idea what Edelgard will do if she finds out, but she is definitely scary. Almost in the same way Lysithea is, except Veery trusts Lysithea a lot more, if mostly by virtue of the fact that she saves his hide several times in battle now.

“Besides,” Linhardt continues, “your Crest is simply too fascinating for me to give up the chance to study it. If I told Edelgard, I’d lose what little trust you’ve placed in me. Then getting you to agree to anything would be far more trouble than a simple examination.”

Ah, Linhardt is motivated by Veery agreeing to participate in his research. He… pretty much figures that already but it’s good to know. That makes Linhardt almost like Anna. Veery can trust him, in that he can trust him to be motivated by research, just like Anna is motivated by money.

Claude says understanding motivations is the key to understanding how people work. It seems true so far.

“So… you and Linhardt, huh?”

“I heard gossip. Is this about Caspar’s screaming the other day?”

“Ah, lovely Dorothea. Always a delight to see a girl as gorgeous as you.”

“Sylvain,” Dorothea coos. “Still incorrigible, I see.”

Veery glances up at the two of them, then down to his book, and debates whether he can slip away while they’re flirting with each other. (They’re so obvious about it, and their insincerity in it, that even Veery can tell. Though, one party being Sylvain, who he knows fairly well at this point, does help.)

Not a chance, as it turns out. Neither of them are sufficiently distracted by the other that they don’t round on him immediately the moment he shuts his book.

“I don’t believe it,” Dorothea says. “Neither Linhardt nor Veery are the type.”

“I heard even Edelgard saw you naked,” Sylvain teases, leaning close to Veery. “If I’d known you weren’t shy, I would’ve asked.”

Veery levels Sylvain with a flat look. “You want to see me naked?”

“A handsome man like you? How could I resist?”

“I mean… first of all, I’m not human.”

Dorothea snorts. “Ah, so the rumors are true! Sylvain truly will flirt with anything. Hey, Veery, I heard he even flirted with a scarecrow.”

“Hey!” Sylvain protests. “It was a realistic scarecrow, and I was little! Besides, it doesn’t matter if you’re human or not. You’re as much a person as anyone else, and just as worthy of love.”

“That’s cute, but, uh,” Veery says, “you do know you’ve already seen me naked, right?”

Sylvain blinks dumbly, recoiling a little. “I have?”

“Oh!” Dorothea exclaims. “Oh, you do have a point! I hadn’t thought of that!”

“What? There’s no way. I’d definitely remember if I saw you naked!”

Veery shakes his head, sighing. Dorothea pats him consolingly on the shoulder. “Why is it so surprising to humans that I’m naked when I shift? I literally sit around here shifted, but not wearing clothes inside Linhardt’s room is suddenly some huge issue?”

“When you’re shifte- oh. Oh… Now that you mention it… No, no that’s a bit too weird even for me.”

Dorothea gasps. “Someone even Sylvain won’t flirt with? Veery, you’re a natural treasure.”

“Sorry! I just can’t look at a cat that way!” Sylvain makes a face. “Like, I know it’s him, but…”

“You know, that’s actually an interesting question,” Dorothea hums. “Veery, what do you find attractive? Someone like me? Or Claude, perhaps? Or something more… feline?”

Veery screws up his nose. “If you’re asking if I’m attracted to housecats, that’s a big no. They’re tiny and weak and dumb. Like little babies but worse because they don’t grow out of it.”

“Ooh, harsh words for the poor cats,” Sylvain says.

Dorothea giggles. “So, you find the human form attractive then?”

“Uh… I mean… your ears are weird.”

“Ha! I suppose they would be, to you,” Dorothea says. “But when you look for love, would you ever be with a human, or would you go back and find an agell to be with?”

Veery shrugs. “Love? As in, the dating kind? I… don’t think I’m interested in your kind of dating. Sylvain took me on a date once and I think I’d rather just take a nap.”

“Ouch!” Sylvain says, feigning offense. “And here I thought we had a good time!”

“It wasn’t bad,” Veery clarifies, “I just don’t get it.”

“How do the agell choose their partners, then?” Dorothea asks. “If it’s so different.”

Veery shrugs. “It depends. From what Sylvain’s told me, you humans usually pick one person to bond with for life. For us, it’s different. I mean, we do have life partners – a couple kinds, actually, but I think you’re asking about the kind you raise a cub with? I guess the best human equivalent to that would be marriage, but it’s not necessarily just one partner. For obvious reasons, I’ve never been very interested in that. But we don’t have the same concept of… what’d that girl call it, Sylvain? Unfidelity, or something?”

Sylvain makes an odd sound in his throat. “The prefix is in-,” he says. “And we don’t need to talk about that.”

Ah, infidelity. That does sound right. “Anyway,” Veery continues, “don’t ask me how they pick their partners, because I have no idea. Mating is more obvious than picking a life partner. I guess mostly because I’m around at the festivals to see it. Not that I ever took part myself. I’ve said it before, I was kind of a recluse even when I went to those gatherings, so a lot of that stuff goes over my head.”

Dorothea purses her lips. “If you have partners outside of the one you start your family with, how do you know if the cub you’re raising is yours at all?”

Veery just blinks at her. “You’re raising it.” After another moment, it clicks in his head what she is probably actually asking. “Or, do you mean if you fathered it? Does that matter?”

Though he doesn’t understand why, Dorothea takes a moment, working her jaw, brow furrowed like she doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. “I suppose not,” she admits in the end.

“Nobles tend to put a lot of importance on lineage,” Sylvain says. “And to an extent, even commoners usually care about who their biological parents are. It must be nice to not have to think about that kind of thing, one way or another.”

“I actually agree,” Dorothea says. “And if it doesn’t matter to anyone who the actual father is, then it makes sense that you’d be more lax about who sleeps with who. Still, such behavior would be social suicide here. Just look at Sylvain!”

“Hey!”

Veery chuckles. “Well, there’s not a lot of us, so breeding is typically encouraged. I know that much. If a girl is willing to have cubs and finds someone she thinks is suitable, there’s not much more to it.” He hums. “If I remember right, there is a… fertility issue. Is that how you would say it? It’s hard to have cubs, even if you mate often. It’s part of why there are so few of us now, and that’s my guess at why so much of that happens at the festivals. Gatherings have more potential mates – more mates is a greater chance of having a cub. Probably.”

“Wait,” Sylvain says, “so it’s normal for festivals to get freaky?”

“Definitely. We live spread out, so if we’re gathering together anyway, you know.” Veery shrugs. “You should see the midsummer festival.” He makes a face. “There’s a reason I like the sunrise one better, even though I like the sun.”

“You can’t mean…” Sylvain laughs, “Ha! Maybe I should visit Albinea.”

“Sylvain would fit right in in a festival like that,” Dorothea sighs. “If he could get over the cats.”

“Oh, yeah, a lot of it is shifted,” Veery says. “It doesn’t matter to us.”

Sylvain blanches, and then eyes Veery. “Well…”

“Sylvain, no!” Dorothea reaches over to smack the back of his head. “Ingrid would be furious with me if I let you start thinking like that! It’s good that you think it’s weird.”

“Ow! What? It’s not like he’s an animal! He’s just… goddess, I’m getting used to the idea. Hit me again.”

“Gladly.” Dorothea smirks wickedly as she smacks him again, significantly harder if the sound if any indication.

“Ah geez! You didn’t have to hit me that hard!”

“How dare you think about cute little Veery like that! Didn’t you hear him say he doesn’t partake in that kind of thing? I won’t have you ruining his innocence.”

Sylvian snorts. “I don’t know. If I’ve got the right image of this midsummer festival, I’m not sure anything I can do wil- ow! Hey!”

“What did I say?”

“He’s the one that brought it up!”

Veery snickers. “I don’t mind,” he says. “I mean, I’m not interested, but it’s nice to think that a human can see past that kind of thing. Usually, humans only want us for our fur. Not that.” He giggles.

“Sylvain…” Dorothea warns, glaring daggers at him.

“Hey, I never said I was into that!” Sylvain protests. “I’m not! Stop looking at me like that!”

“But you were considering it.”

“Only because it’s Veery!” Sylvain pouts. “I mean, if you wanted to do something freaky in bed, I’d consider it, too.”

Dorothea snorts. “That… almost sounded sincere.”

“I’m always sincere, baby.”

“And, of course, you ruin it,” Dorothea sighs, shaking her head. “Just stay away from poor Veery, okay?”

“Hey, I’m closer to him than you are! Besides, he can rip my heart out with his bare hands, probably. If he was bothered by my flirting, I’d back off.”

Dorothea raises her brow. “Like you back off of Ingrid?”

“Come on! I’ve known Ingrid my whole life! That’s different! That’s just annoying her because we’re friends!”

Veery giggles at their antics. “Dorothea, I really don’t mind. Trying to figure out what he’s saying is actually helping me a lot with understanding when I watch other humans do things like that.”

Dorothea sighs in defeat. “I suppose if you say so I can’t stop him… still, if he bothers you, just let me know, okay?”

“Heh, sure!” Veery smiles as Sylvain grimaces.

#fanfiction #FE Fanfiction #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fe3h

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cipheramnesia · 5 months ago

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A finely linked system and network mesh of invisible threads wrapped protectively around the borders of the United Eastquad Block, and carefully swept through anything crossing those borders whether by air, space, sea, or land. Not a single drop of slushy rain fell that UEB didn't know about, every person entered and departed with invasively detailed scans and searches. It was a foolproof system to keep out what they called undesirables.

The Paperclip sailed through the system and space network, warm and welcomed with the promise of new civs to be found in the borders of UEB, and particularly welcomed with the substantial cut and first claim provision for the UEB Scientific Innovation Agency in their contract. That's what it said, and the blood pact seal pinged a Waverly in customs and preservation. He wasn't at his desk but it happened all the time.

Michele Loren, Cat Nguyen, Sy Drangea, and Doc (no relation), hung around the customs desk as a gray-faced Officer Hendrix carefully inspected their permits and crew passes. Loren wasn't worried, they were all the real deal, just back-dated a little. Everyone knew everyone in salvage and a little backdating here would get a little tip off or some extra hands there down the line. Unless Big E.Z. sold them out, which he doubted.

While the EPT scanned everything for traces or tampering guilt, a broad and chipper young woman with short brown hair did the visi on their gear. "I heard you're looking for civs! Could you open this? Thanks. Sounds exciting!"

Sy looking bored while Cat gently guided Doc away from trying to pry open the plastic cover of the EPT. Loren said, "Pretty boring most days, it sometimes gets interesting really fast. Careful with that, we use it to track relative stellar time to system density."

"Wow! This stuff looks really complicated. Okay, stand back for the sniffer." She swept a wide vacuum brush over the table and watched the read out. "Great news, y'all, there's no combustibles or dangerous charge carriers. Now we need you up close for the eight ball."

"Never heard that one before," said Sy.

"It's easier than calling it the intentionality and predictive temporal net, just a formality of course." She smiled while Hendrix rolled his eyes. "So we know no one's planning anything funny."

Nguyen laughed, "Not like we'd be doing anything that stupid in the UEB. Can you even picture it?"

The other woman laughed, and Loren stood with his hands in his back pocket, smiling, using his index and middle finger to tear a morality cleanse blessing in half. It faded away into his jeans.

Multiple other frisks and questions and forms and reviews of papers and equipment and forms and one linecar ride later, and the four sat around on the beds of their hotel suite.

Loren fell back and stared at the soundproof ceiling. It had fire suppression summoning work and at least three cameras he could see. "We should probably get set up. I need to put our triplicates in at the Citadel, you all can do some ground work."

Doc said, "I have excellent form."

"Okay, you can come with me. Can I trust you kids?"

"I'm a pro, Michele," Nguyen said as Sy said, "No."

● ● ● ● ●

The Citadel dominated its surroundings, standing 360 meters in height and nearly half that amount in length. It occupied several blocks, shining with jagged angular spires that rose out of several square bases with stony facades, featuring columns of ancient earth civ at its lowest levels while showing off the sleekest and most razor edged architectural designs from its era above. Loren spent a few minutes reading further details from the plaque at the governance branch entrance, which also noted the internal layout conducted its occupants to follow a predetermined route to any destination within, thereby tracing parts of a sigil which was meant to reinforce the power and orderliness of the UEB.

Into the dim, echoing interior of the ground floor, it took some doing to locate an operable elevator amidst all the brass trimmed fixtures and cut class chandeliers, only half of which seemed to work. The tiles on the floors were mosaics worn to neutral brown by decades of wear, with bare concrete marked by cones in places. Several stairwells were also roped off for construction. Doc swiped a fingerful of dust from one velvet rope and the elevator shuddered with effort at each floor til they stepped out onto a gray carpet with two-tone taupe walls. The signs were plastic with some of the white worn off office names and numbers.

Loren smilled at Doc. She looked up and smiled at him. "They took us up the long road to index cards."

"Well we're here to file." They weren't. Pollen drifted off Loren's jacket with every step he'd taken into the building. It ground into the carpet, was sucked into the HVAC, landed on other clothes.

Doc stopped to read signs, muttered to herself in concern as she transfered new meaning in other languages all around the 80th floor. The deliberate passage of her crystals along the paperwork to distort its contents into something magnified and dangerous was nearly an afterthought.

The door to the office of permit filing and archives was open when they came through, and a balding man with narrow glasses looked up, smiling in delight as Loren handed over the bomb in the form of triplicate copy paperwork.

"Oh wonderful, I love people who care about the little details."

"What can I say," Loren said, "I'm thorough."

Part 7: The Tower

a story by @rox-and-prose and @cipheramnesia

Dusk turned the Nevamil sky a flat aquamarine, and made visible the red lights blinking atop the Citadel. It was the tallest building in the capital city, Aureodar, even visible from the far off gridded streets of old houses converted into apartments. The last time Laika had seen it was a field trip for school.

The little blue Kirov was somewhere between the mountains and Genghis Khan and the most anonymous hopper port they'd been able to find in Aureodar. She worried about Sy, seemed ages past she'd been this physically far, though it was hardly more than weeks. Wires and talismans crossed over the streets, bikes and busses swooshed wet pavement, and linecars screeched overhead, all wrapped around her and her backpack and familiar unknown faces of the United Eastquad Block.

Ghosts gathered around her, whispering. You keep coming back here little wolf girl, you'll never get away from this place. Little wolf girl, you know you belong here. Freak. Queer. Sissy. Killer. Monster. You thought you were better than us, you never were. Laika let them needle and claw her. They were her ghosts, not the other way round. Every horrible word only built her up. Luna was with her in that way.

Most of the houses on K Street were mods, from early to late first century post-terraform. They were all retrofited from the original single family modules, but they were tough as nails, old construction built to weather thr storms of atmosphere generation. Number 1132 was where she was headed, lights were still on in the third floor windows.

Laika took a last look around on the front door's stoop. The poles for street lights and warden ropes all had at least three CCTV cameras and arrayed parabolic empathy receivers tuned into psychic conflict between morality and legality. She flashed a tight little smile at the familiar old glass eye of the state before pulling a short crowbar out of her bag and cracking the door open.

The third floor smelled of some sharp, fragrant allium along with sweet woody flavors and cooking meat, enough to rouse her stomach. Deep breath, ignore the ghosts, knock. A woman with her black hair in a bob cut, rolled up sleeves on her billowy dress, a little sweaty and confused, almost a quarter meter shorter than Laika. A wave of gaming sounds, net music, and oven warmth joined them both on the landing.

"Hey Tara," Laika said.

The other woman looked closer. "Laika? Oh tides, it is!" She wrapped Laika up in a big soft hug inside thick arms, crushing her stick body. "I thought you, I don't know, I thought you were dead! I mean, there were rumors?"

"Uff! Uh, hey. Sorry to be like, unannounced. Is it okay if I come in?" Laika hesitantly patted Tara's shoulders until the hug relaxed and her feet were back on the floor.

"You just have to, please. I'm sorry, when did you get back, why didn't you call?"

Unlacing her boots and slipping them off, she said, "I just got back today, um. I've been a bit off the net you know." She dipped her hand in the tiny basin by the door and thumbed a drop of water on the polished river stone at the altar. "But I wanted to see how you'd been, I guess. It just, well it's weird. That smells amazing."

She saw a couple kids blasting through uncreatively humanoid aliens, loudly and luridly across the living room screen, followed Tara into the kitchen and dinette area and watched her stir around sizzling veggies and meat in a wide dish. "Thanks," Tara said. "The spawn over there don't always appreciate it, but you know how... well, how kids can be..." Tara frowned awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh. Yeah." Laika rubbed the back of her neck. "So what all have you heard?"

Tara stuttered with a little embarassment. In the distance Laika could very faintly hear sirens, but she knew they weren't for her. The people who would come for her didn't use sirens or advertise their presence.

Half paying attention to Tara, she added, "Well, uh, some is true. But... you knew it was bad at home. Stuff happened. What about you though? Like, two kids? Wow!"

Tara probably was relieved at the change of topic, and Laika was glad to take a minute, but she couldn't focus all the way. She was waiting.

#gkw

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