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thefinalcinderella · 1 year ago

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Tsurune Book 3 Chapter 4 - Old Friend (Part 1)

this chapter broke into my house and robbed me. this chapter punched me in my stomach and proceeded to kick me as i was down

anyways we meet Seiya's brother Gaku. Gaku seems to be a gnc person but is still referred to as Seiya's brother so i will be using he/him pronouns for him

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1-18. The explanations of the puns were so long that i decided to make a separate post for them. tbh you can just skip the puns and go all the way to the end of this section

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It was a certain day off.

The five boys of the Kazemai High School kyudo club gathered at Minato’s house. It was a study session to prepare for a regular exam, and since Minato’s father wasn’t at home because of work, they occupied the living room.

Seiya smiled.

“Ryouhei, if there’s anything you don’t understand, feel free to ask me. I can help you with most of the liberal arts subjects.”

“Woo! I’m so glad that I have you, who’s at the top of our class, as my childhood friend.”

“I’m happy to be helpful to everyone.”

Nanao, hearing that, waved his mechanical pencil with a frog on it. There was also a pencil case with frogs in traditional Japanese design on the table.

“As expected of President Mustache. You really give off the composure of someone worthy of a mustache. Maybe I should have chosen science classes too, though it’s a bit late for that now.”

“Apparently, nowadays there are some universities where they don’t divide the courses into the sciences and liberal arts, but allow students to take both.”

“This is what they call the age of diversity. Our future is shining brightly. Exciting, sparkling!” Ryouhei also chimed in.

“Sparkling! This humble one is also excited!”

Next to them, Kaito put down his pen.

“You two! Those Yotubers’ ways of talking are rubbing off on you. Nanao, stop playing with frogs and focus on your problem set.”

“Yeah, yeah, Kacchan. Follow your own path.”

After checking on everyone, Minato went to the kitchen. He returned to the living room with a drink in hand.

Minato’s cup was purchased on the return trip from last year’s regional tournament, and it had the illustration of a dormouse on it. In his left hand, he held the dormouse mascot that Masa-san gave him. The dormouse was a small mouse that was a natural monument and also called the spirit of the forest and the guardian deity of the mountains. Masa-san gave him, who was suffering from target panic, the dormouse mascot in place of a talisman, but Minato had no way of knowing the prayer it contained.

When the five’s cups were emptied, the intercom sounded. When Minato looked through the camera, he saw a young woman standing there. “Hello?” he answered.

“Mii-chan, it’s me. It’s been a while.”

“Oh! I’m opening the door now.”

When Minato opened the door, the woman suddenly hugged him.

She was in her twenties. She was gorgeous and bewitching, but also cute—she was a superb beauty who made one feel that gap. She was dressed in a stylish outfit, and her straggling hairs fell gently.

The beautiful woman exclaimed in joy.

“Mii-chan, you smell as good as ever! Is it rosemary? It’s different from a vegetarian’s scent. The fact that you smell like this and don’t use antiperspirants or perfume is nothing short of a miracle.”

“Can’t you do something about that quirk of yours?”

“I feel so refreshed when I smell your scent, Mii-chan. ‘Mina-huffing’ is way better than cat huffing!”

Minato grimaced, looking fed up. Since he knew that the other person only looked slender in clothing and was actually a Jeet Kune Do master, Minato didn’t disobey her and stayed still. It was a martial art where the opponent was defeated within six seconds. He wouldn’t be able to stand a chance if he was hit in a vital spot.

“I’m studying right now.”

“Oh, that’s right. I came here for something else. Let me just come in for a minute.”

The woman left Minato and went into the living room without hesitation. She opened the door with a bang.

“Who’s that?” Just when Kaito muttered in his mind, Seiya shouted, “Onii-chan!”

Kaito let out a splutter.

Rather than the fact that the person who he thought was a woman was actually Seiya’s brother, he was more shocked by the fact that Seiya calling him “Onii-chan.” Seiya’s brother completely ignored the dumbfounded Kazemai High School kyudo club members and made a beeline for Seiya.

“Seiya, you completely ignored your phone even when I called you. I came back home after all this time, so keep me company for a little bit at least.”

“Why are you coming in all the way here, Onii-chan? You’re as restless as ever.”

“Can’t you be a little more affectionate towards your beloved brother? Something like, it’s been so long, I missed you, Nii-san!”

Seiya made no comment. His eyes were glassy.

“Ugh, you’re such a prickly kid. Everyone, sorry for interrupting your studying. Nice to meet you, I’m Seiya’s older brother, Takehaya Gaku. I do the branding for ‘Hanayoi,’ which promotes Japanese style merchandise. You over there, that frog pencil was also one of the things I had a hand in.”

“Whoa!” Nanao said. “I know Hanayoi. You did a collab with Yumihiki Douji recently.”

“You watched it? I’m so happy to hear that.”

Gaku sat down in front of the table.

“I’d feel bad about staying here for too long, so I’ll just tell you why I’m here. Everyone here should also listen. I chose the path I liked, so Dad wants Seiya to inherit the hospital. He says he wants Seiya to start preparing for that soon.”

“You’re talking about that again? And this isn’t something you talk about in front of everyone, you know? Onii-chan, you do what you want, and yet you expect to me to obey you.”

“Mom and Dad always respect our wishes. But in their hearts, they think that you’re suited to becoming a doctor. This is the countryside, so doctors are absolutely needed. They want you to contribute your service to the community. They won’t back down until you say yes.”

“There’s no point in using martial arts on me. I know your weak spots. It’ll be no trouble for me to defeat you.”

“Ugh, Seiya, how invincible are you? Well, it doesn’t matter. I plan on staying here for two or three days longer anyway.”

Gaku stood up, then stared at Nanao, who had been listening with his chin in his hands.

“…Magnificent. You’ve caught my eye since the moment I entered this room, but you’re so beautiful. How would you like to become our new brand image character?”

Gaku’s eyes roamed over Nanao’s figure, then he raised his hand and inhaled the scent deeply. Gaku’s sense of smell was unusually developed, and he was an eccentric who judged people based on their body odor. It was said that only one in five people could sniff out asparagus smell, which was the smell of urine after eating asparagus. He was one of them, and he was also a perfumer.

“Mm, mm, what a pleasant scent. It’s sweet, heartrending, and strong—. You fit the image perfectly. You’re the very picture of the crowned Frog Prince.”

“Hold on a minute, I can’t see what you’re talking about.”

“There is no one better suited for this role than you. This is a big project that will be expanded overseas. Don’t you think it’s a great opportunity?”

“No, no, no, the more skillfully someone speaks, the more I’m on guard.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cautious. Please give me a reply in three days.”

After only saying what he wanted to say, Gaku left. In the calm after the storm, the five boys remained silent.

Ryouhei moved to break the silence.

“I was so surprised to see Seiya’s brother. He got even prettier than I remember. What will happen if Nanao takes on that job?”

“I’ll be okay, but it might be tough for Nanao to balance his thing with kyudo,” Seiya said.

“Huh!? Can’t you wait for a moment? Then I’m against it. You agree with me, right, Minato?”

“…I will respect the two’s wishes.”

“Huuuh!? Kaito-kun, you of course are also against it, right?”

“I dunno. It’s up to Seiya and Nanao.”

“What? Why aren’t you stopping them? Don’t you all want to stand on the same stage together again? We can only be high school second-years once! Well, you can be held back a year, though!”

Seiya opened the reference book on the table.

“Sorry, guys. My brother’s always like that. He throws everyone around him into confusion and immediately leaves. Nanao, you should think about it carefully before responding to him.”

With complicated feelings, the five boys faced the table again.

After the study session finished and everyone left, Nanao went to Kaito’s house.

He took two teacups in the kitchen and poured black tea, milk, and sugar into them. His brain needed sugar to work. He put the cups on a tray and went to Kaito’s room on the second floor.

“Hi, Kacchan. Today, I’m specially making this tea for you. Be thankful.”

“Yeah, yeah, Frog Prince.”

Nanao put the teacup on his desk and sat down on the bed. He flicked the frog-shaped clock by his side with his finger. The second hand was moving as usual.

“Kacchan, what do you really think about what Gaku-san talked about earlier?”

“I already said that I don’t know.”

“You didn’t put a stop to it this time.”

“Hah? Did something like that happen? If I say anything, your judgment might be affected, so I kept quiet.”

“You could have at least given your cousin some advice. What a useless man.”

“Shut up. Neither you or Seiya are little kids anymore. It’s the truth that by the summer vacation of your second year in high school, you have to decide on your career path to some extent.”

“That’s so early. I feel I only just entered high school.”

Seiya was also faced with the dilemma of choosing his career. Kaito was probably feeling nervous on the inside. Even Minato should be wondering whether he should encourage or discourage him.

Kaito got his phone out and started playing a game. Lately, he had been absorbed in a city building game. He had built a kyudojo, a library, and a concert venue just for Japanese rock. Once, he had cried tears of gratitude when the avatars of the bands he liked in the real world performed there.

Lucy the cat rubbed against Kaito’s back and showed her belly. Kaito petted Lucy without looking away from his game, and Lucy kicked him as though to tell him to look at her.

Nanao remembered when he and Kaito visited Tokyo together in middle school.

Kaito had let out a big yawn.

“Ah, this is such a pain. I only care about kyudojos and kyudo stores. Are there any nearby?”

“Don’t say that, Kacchan. Let’s take the classic course first.”

He stuffed his mouth with crepes and peered into a store where everyone was lined up. At the storefront where accessories were arranged next to each other, he could see a man giving out rings as a gift.

It was fun to walk around the city. The place where they lived was surrounded by mountains, but this place was full of man-made object and people. It was a stimulating and lively space.

A little further away, there was a man running through the crowd.

“Why is that guy running?”

“Who knows, maybe he forgot something.”

As they were talking, the man quickly approached them and handed him his business card. The name of an agency was printed on the front, and the names of the talents affiliated with the agency were printed on the back.

Talent scouts really did exist. He thought it was an urban legend.

Kaito’s eyes flashed in their usual way. From his point of view, the person approaching Nanao was nothing but a suspicious person who deserved to be guarded against.

“Sorry, we’re in a hurry,” they declined and started walking away.

As they continued on their way, eating snacks, someone called out to them again. Nanao didn’t know if it was a scout or someone trying to pick him up, but he completely ignored them. However, some people were persistent and would stubbornly keep talking to him. Thanks to that, they walked faster and faster.

“Hey, hey, you over there. You’re a shining diamond in the rough. Could please just listen to what I have to say?”

“If you put it like that, I might be a little interested.”

“Tell the kid next to you to consider it too. I really think he’s got what it takes. Getting famous with videos is fine and all, but I recommend that you join an agency that can manage you properly.”

“No, thank you,” Kaito answered.

“Why don’t you join with him, then? I think a combination of two different types is also a good idea.”

“…”

“You might have to pay for the lessons, but we also have plans that are better than other agencies.”

“Shut up! This guy won’t leave our hometown!” Kaito shouted and grabbed Nanao’s hand, then started running.

Masquerade.

This was a city where you could meet a different version of yourself.

A doll-like girl spinning on a music box and a man holding a fake sword studded with sequins. Were the woodwind instruments being played foreign? Many boats floated on the meandering river, and the two went against the current. Was this really reality? His feet felt unsteady.

“Let’s leave this place quickly. There’s too many people and we’ll keep getting bothered.”

“You’re right.”

The sounds of people bustling about was comfortable.

Kacchan said that there were too many people here, but everyone was nose-deep in their phones and no one’s looking around. No one’s paying attention to us. No one knows who we are.

I will protect Kacchan. In this city, he’s the only who knows me, and I’m the only one who knows him.

I will never forget Kacchan gripping my hand.

It seems like he forgot about it, though.

That’s fine. This is a memory that only I remember.

“Kacchan, I wanna eat chips. Go and buy some.”

“What, go buy it yourself. I think we have some downstairs.”

“Can I eat them?”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, Kacchan.”

When Nanao got up, Lucy let out a small meow.

After the study session, Seiya and Minato watched Ryouhei leave until they could no longer see him.

“Minato, I’m going to go shampoo Kuma. Wanna come?” Seiya said.

“Of course!”

Minato went to Seiya’s house. He rolled up his sleeves, took off his socks, and Kuma, who realized what was going to happen, ran around excitedly. When Kuma was still a puppy, just getting him to soak his paws in the bathtub full of hot water was a difficult task, but now it was one of his favorite times. They wetted his fur in the shower and lathered up the dog shampoo.

“Kuma, doesn’t that feel good? Do you feel itchy anywhere?”

Kuma tilted his head left as though to say, “Here,” so they focused on that area. As they were rinsing off the later with the shower, Kuma shook his whole body.

“Kuma, don’t shake!”

“Kuma seems to be in high spirits,” Seiya said.

While they were shampooing Kuma, they saw a gecko on the windowpane of the bath. It had a light pink belly and the base of its tail was heart-shaped. The edges of its five tiny fingers were transparent and beautiful. It didn’t so much as twitch even when Minato touched it through the glass. He once saw one in his own house, and he had captured it and let it go outside. The gecko was still clinging to the window even after they finished shampooing Kuma.

Seiya’s brows lowered when he saw Kuma leaning against Minato as he wiped his wet body.

“Kuma, you sure are making a nice face. Even though I’m your master.”

“Kuma likes people.”

The two and Kuma went out for a walk. As they walked toward the red sun, the indigo sunset approached from behind. The first star of the evening shined in the evening sky, and it matched the speed of the two boys and dog. When they stopped, the star also stopped. The large yellow moon shined on the horizon.

On the roadside, bees gathered by the fleabanes, and butterflies gathered by the milk thistles. A loud chorus of frogs could be heard from the rice fields that had just been filled with water. There were also baby praying mantises in the purple thistles, shortawn foxtails, and ixeris flowers. Though their bodies were only one centimeter long, they were vibrating them like adults. They seemed to be imitating the appearance of swaying leaves, but it was said that only two percent of two hundred eggs could grow into adults. Minato sent thoughts of encouragement for everyone to survive safely.

Minato patted Kuma on the head.

“It seems that there is a family of wild rabbits living in Shuu’s garden. At first, when we saw each other, they would run away like rabbits do, but lately, they are the ones who have been approaching me.”

“With that house, I’m not surprised about anything that lives there.”

“To tell you the truth, I once asked your dad a question. I asked him, aren’t you worried about Seiya quitting Kirisaki? Is there anything I can do?”

“…No way, really?”

“He told me, ‘There’s nothing to worry about. Worrying would mean that I don’t believe in Seiya’s strength. Both Seiya and his brother are people who don’t see hardships as hardships and can blaze a trail forward.’”

“Dad said something like that? I didn’t know.”

“You have a great dad. He’s really cool.”

“Yeah, he is, thanks. My brother’s a weirdo, though.”

“Kuma’s cute too.”

“My brother isn’t cute, and I don’t listen to what he says.”

“Brothers, huh. I’m a bit jealous.”

Minato looked up at the sky. The full moon was changing from yellow to silver.

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”

“…Yeah, it really is. Minato, do you know the anecdote about Soseki Natsume?”

“The one where he had a habit of pulling out his nose hairs when he got writer’s block and line them up on his manuscript paper?”

“That’s what came to your mind? It’s the one where he said that when Japanese people convey their love, they don’t say ‘I love you,’ but use another way to express it.”

“Sorry, I don’t know that one.”

“You and Kaito really don’t waver, huh.”

“What will Nanao do? Kaito was clearly shaken.”

“The two of them are probably discussing things right now. It might be something that’s hard to talk about in front of us.”

“You’re right. Oh, I saw two dormice in that tree hollow ahead. You wanna go see them?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

The two boys and dog went to the woods. When they went into the woods, Kuma took the vanguard position, probably with the determination to protect his masters.

When the wind shook the leaves, white-tailed skimmers spread their wings.

The wind blew through the blue yamichi of Kazemai High School’s kyudojo.

After the prefectural tournament qualifiers, the club members headed toward the targets as they pleased. Not thinking about unnecessary things and simply releasing arrows with all your strength was also a pleasant feeling. They surrendered themselves and rode the updraft.

When they generally finished shooting their arrows, the signal to gather was given.

“Today, we’ll be having a special class today. Let’s warm up before inviting our speaker. First question, what day is September tenth?”

Ryouhei immediately raised his hand.

“It’s Kyudo Day!”

“Correct. Now, the second question. Does anyone what day is August tenth, a month before that?”

“Yep, yep, it’s Masa-san’s birthday!”

Kaito turned to Minato and grinned triumphantly. Masa-san smiled in embarrassment.

Tommy-sensei continued. “Third question. What day is September first?”

“The questions suddenly got harder. Seiya, do you know?” Minato said.

“Hmm, is it famous?”

“Oh? Takehaya-kun not knowing something is surprising. Let’s get into the main topic. Self-possession is necessary for kyudo. Learn the best techniques to stay calm in any situation. That’s right, it’s all about words, it’s about how you perceive events positively through words. Here comes the specialists. Come on, everybody!”

The ones who appeared at Tommy-sensei’s signal were two elderly men. Question marks popped up over everyone’s heads.

“These two are acquaintances of mine. They are alumni of the ‘Kazemai High School Bad Puns Association.’”

Seiya’s glasses flashed. Kaito had a bad feeling.

The class began.

“Bad puns are things that have ‘creativity and impact,’ and enriches communication between people. We take advantage of the infinite ‘attraction’ of puns, and our wish that bad puns will bring color and richness to life and delivers salvation to the world is embedded in September first.”*

“…I can already sense that this is going to be a disaster.”

Kaito was in agony, but Seiya straightened up even more and listened attentively.

“A barrage of dad jokes that follow up on each other. This is indeed ‘jab-jab’ humor, Kacchan.”*

“Na-na-o, not you too!”

As the cousins’ comedy routine unfolded, practical training began. First, they were asked to tell the bad puns they already knew.

Keyaki went first. “The principal’s in good form!”*

Kanbayashi went second. “The dog’s so nervous that it’s wetting itself.”*

Himuro went third. “Suki kuu mushi mo tadetade.”*

Everyone’s eyes widened at the fact that Himuro spoke, but only Seiya sighed by himself.

“It’s no good, first-years. You can’t just say such excellent bad puns.”

Keyaki shrank back.

“What exactly is an excellent bad pun…? It’s too difficult for amateurs. I feel like successfully pulling off a bad pun is more difficult than the path of the bow for me.”

“First, we must learn the classics. I’ll give you some examples. ‘6:30 is the best time on a clock, hands down.’ ‘Thanks for being so grape!’ ‘Camping: like many of the best things in life, it’s tree.’”*

The two teachers applauded.

“Wonderful! As expected of the club president, you have a very good understanding of this. Oh, you over there, you say a pun too.”

“Me too?” Masa-san said.

“Of course. To us, you’re also a Kazemai kid, Coach Takigawa.”

“Then if I may be so presumptuous, I will contribute one pun. ‘My back is kaino at kai.’”*

Seiya inadvertently laughed, but then made his face serious in an effort to hide that he laughed.

“Recreation is a form of communication and relaxation that’s also used in free schools, and it is also a way to train people to think in a way that softens their stiffened heads. Now, we pros will show you how it’s done.”

“What kind of sport is kyudo? The kind of sport that makes your chest squeeze tightly and impresses the people around.” “If you draw a bow in Yamagata, your arrows will bend.” “Ah, I hit the inside of the curtain.” “Hakama wa hakanma.” “What are yuu going to the kyudojo for?” “I get angry when I don’t do the uchiokoshi well.” “When I do uchiokoshi, you go to the front.” “Let’s have a third party look at our daisan.” “Ya o hanatsu to yugaeru kero.” “Zan, shin!!”*

Kaito quickly stood up.

“They’re cold, they’re too cold! Are we in Siberia or Alaska or something!?”

Unable to endure it any longer, he left.

Tommy-sensei chuckled. “…Good reaction, Onogi-kun.”

Before they went home, they received a large amount of broad beans from the teachers, who had grown them in their home gardens.

“Hey, hey, what are you going to do about Seiya’s brother, Gaku-san’s offer?” Ryouhei asked Nanao.

“Oh, I think I’m going to turn him down on that day.”

Kaito’s face relaxed.

“You’re giving your answer too early. You might regret it later that you should have accepted it.”

“I won’t regret it, and even if I do in the future, so be it. I’ll consider it again at that time. The current me has decided not to do it. My dream has already been fulfilled. I wanted to become a normal high school student.”

“A normal high school student?”

“Don’t you think it’s amazing? Frogs and birds risk their lives to get food every day, but we normally eat our lunches in our classrooms, normally make side trips on our way home from school, and normally groan about bad test scores.”

“Is Nanao really a high school boy? You have a pretty philosophical view of things,” Seiya murmured.*

The second-year girl, Hanazawa, writhed in agony. “Takehaya-kun, don’t just smoothly insert an old man joke here.”

“The only old man we need is Takigawa=san,” Shiragiku said.

“Putting aside the fact that our club has a high concentration of old men, I don’t know how a guy with a fan club could be called normal,” Seo continued.

“That isn’t something I wanted, but I’ll properly fulfill the role given to me. I don’t want to disappoint the girls who love me.”

“Wow, you’re like a real prince.”

When Ryouhei looked at him with eyes full of respect, Nanao gently lowered his eyes. If the fan club girls were here, they might have fainted on the spot.

When he opened his eyes, a strong gaze appeared there.

“I want to become a carpenter. I want to start with design. Kacchan, let me build your house.”

Kaito’s eyes widened.

“This is the first time I’m hearing of it.”

“Of course it is. Because it’s the first time I told someone. Before I came here, I asked the teacher to let me switch from the humanities to the sciences.”

“That was fast! I didn’t know you could change it.”

“First, I want to build a round wooden frog house in a green forest. The eyes will be the windows, where you can see the starry sky through them at night. The Summer Triangle of summer and Orion of winter. It’ll be amazing to gaze at them while lying down on the floor with everyone. Right now, I’m researching the costs.”

“You’re really moving too fast. Where are us students gonna get that money from?”

“It’s not about whether you can or can’t do it, it’s about envisioning it first. I don’t think it’s that difficult.”

The first-years applauded.

“As expected of Kisaragi-senpai’s super positive thinking. He has a dream!” Kanbayashi said.

“I will try thinking about what I really want to do,” Keyaki said.

“I want to continue doing kyudo even after I graduate. Have you decided on what you’re going to do, Narumiya-senpai? Are you going to go to a university with a strong kyudo club?”

Minato looked indifferent.

“All I thought was that I should probably go to university. On the career preference questionnaire, I thought about my family finances and wrote down the names of several universities I was interested in, including a local public university, a department where I could study Japanese culture, a university with a Shinto course, and an agriculture department.”

Seiya pinched the corner of his eyes. “Our teacher is probably very confused, thinking that Narumiya-kun is supposed to be in the sciences.”

“I’m interested in what Shinto priests do, but I don’t know if I want to do it as a job… To be honest, I’m at a loss.”

Tommy-sensei, who had been silently listening to them, laughed out loud. Masa-san was also next to him.

“Ah, the worries of vibrant youth. Try talking to yourself, not others. It might be a good idea to try drawing a mandala chart. By the way, the goals I set when I was fifty were to walk eight-thousand steps every day, learn the names of flowers and plants, and take pictures of clouds. Please look at my work.”

Tommy-sensei showed them pictures of clouds in the shape of soft-served ice cream, candy, and dried squid. He told them that they weren’t edited images, but actually floating in the sky.

Ryouhei’s eyes sparkled.

“What’s that, it looks tasty!”

“Ho ho, there’s Pucky here too. And even a Koala’s Dash.”*

“Whoa, I wanna try searching too! Nee-chan, Shuu-kun, and Sae-chan would definitely love it if I show this to them.”

It seemed that Tommy-sensei taught them a simple game once again. Minato thought that the people who could laugh at bad puns and were curious no matter how old they were might be the masters of life.

When Seiya returned home, he told his parents this.

“I’m going to be a doctor. But right now, kyudo is my top priority, so I might become a ronin.* Mom, Dad, will you still support me?”

“Yes, of course we will.”

“Do your best, Seiya-kun.”

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bleue-flora · 8 months ago

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I don't get why so many hate the finale lore stream like the first 3 people were fine with but so many hated the last one I've even see c!Dream apologists dislike it. Like why?

I’ve talked about this before [here] which I feel might be one of my better essays covering my thoughts on the matter, but I’ll talk some more about it. I think there are a few things to keep in mind.

Firstly, finales will always have a divided audience approval. Some will love it, some will hate it. This is true across the board, it may be more skewed in certain directions, but still there is always diversity even on some of the more infamous finales. And this is partly I think due to us mourning the loss of our beloved show, book, series…etc. and sometimes misconstruing our dislike of the finale as disliking the story it tells not the fact that it’s ending period. I will always kinda hate finales in this way because I’m sad to see it go, which also means I will, in a sense, set a high expectation for the finale, which may or may not be reasonable. Though, since I have watched so so many tv shows, I have definitely lowered my expectations, especially because as a writer, endings are hard. It’s easy to make a mess of all the toys and get to the climax, but it’s not as fun to clean up after and resolve it (in my opinion). So not only are endings hard to write they are also hard to do, as to do a satisfying ending there may be additions that aren’t possible. And on top of that, endings bring an end to the audience’s hope of seeing perhaps certain scenes they long for, so if things you wanted to see didn’t happen then the finale is already going to be disappointing because now it won’t ever happen.

Anyways, in the case of the dsmp finale, one of the things I think happened was people set an expectation that was unreasonable logistically and characteristically. Now that doesn’t mean a finale can’t be judged because of its limitations, I certainly could write an essay on why the Supernatural finale was the worst finale I’ve ever seen, Game of Thrones and Sherlock included. But it isn’t fair to judge something with an expectation that it could never live up to.

To be honest though, I’m not entirely sure what they even expected to happen, since not a single thing in the finale surprised me because I more or less saw it coming (but I do tend to predict endings so no shade to people who did not of course). It was what it needed to be, what it should be, what it was going to be based on the irl events. If you were paying attention to the narrative and the characters this was the direction we were headed to. Now are there things missing I wish were included? Of course. Are there characters who didn’t get the resolution they deserves or things I thought could be better? Of course. Are there plot holes and questions I still have? Of course. It is far from perfect (and not just because Tommy couldn’t throw the discs properly lol XD). But just because I’m sad it’s ending, and sad I didn’t get to see certain interactions or scenes I wanted to, doesn’t make the ending bad.

But anyways, the main reason I think people disliked it is because they weren’t paying attention. Or at least they didn’t quite have a good understanding of the characters or the story at large and because of this the finale came out of nowhere and didn’t make sense. I think people especially don’t quite get the last conversation between Tommy and Dream, I mean I think we’ve all seen the outrage over Tommy “apologizing to his abuser,” when Tommy was only apologizing for killing them all, killing their chance at a happy ending. But just to be clear, neither Tommy nor Dream apologized nor expressed guilt or remorse over their actions in the finale, that wouldn’t really be character consistent. No, all that happened was for the first time Tommy saw that Dream was more than a 1 dimensional villain. For the first time, Tommy actually heard Dream.

And not only did that fit nicely into Tommy’s character arc and Dream’s, but also the story at large. A story about characters who all have povs we as the audience get to watch, where everyone is the hero in their own story, everyone is right from their point of view. In the finale, we see one of, if not the only moment where a character actually understood someone else’s pov and realized they weren’t the hero in everyone’s story after all, that they weren’t the only ones with hopes and dreams and motivations and pain. They weren’t the only protagonist.

In addition, I think one of the misunderstanding of the characters comes from taking too much of what Punz and Dream say as truth. I myself am guilty of this, and it is only when I look at streams like the one with Punz and Dream talking before prison, that I realize, just like the disc monologue where Dream theatrically goes on about control, there seems to be some serious showmanship going on. Of course, like all of Dream’s productions there is truth weaved in his words and his emotions do break through the facade, but I think we would be remiss to take everything they say at face value. These are two known liars who put on a whole staged finale after all. And the contrast between some of the things they say there versus the stream where they are alone is telling to me. By themselves they have no reason to lie or be facetious, but in front of their enemies it makes lot of sense to put on a production. So, what they say in that stream by themselves, what they say when they meet up after prison, what they say in the stream where Tommy comes to distract them, those are more truthful to me than the whole power hungry nonsense.

Regardless, Tommy and Dream finally airing their grievances was so satisfying to me. I can’t think of any other ending that would have been as pleasing. Again, I’m not sure what they wanted, did they really want them to kill eachother again. Because like that seems boring to me, we’ve been there, done that. Dream says it himself of how the cycle of Tommy and Tubbo vs Dream is just the same thing over and over again. (This is actually one of my issues with the Supernatural finale as well.) I am of the opinion that if a finale could happen at any other point in the story, then it is not a good finale. If the finale could happen in stream one, why would I watch the rest? Where is the pay off? The finale should be the difference, the highlight of the circumstances that got them there and how they’ve changed over this whole story. In many ways it should be the unexpected of the character (not to the point of like doing something that doesn’t make sense, like still gotta be character consistent - this is why neither apologized in the finale for example), finally growing and overcoming the flaw they’ve battled all along. That is what makes it satisfying - wow look how far they’ve come, look at how the circumstances of the story have made this happen. That is what makes a good ending.

As far as Dream apologists go, there are quite a few different viewpoints in the community. Not all of us have the same understanding. (I actually recently had to stop reading a fic because the take on Dream frustrated me so much.) Some see Dream as evil but love him anyways or even for that. Some see Dream as the problem but prison was his path to a redemption of sorts. Some see Dream as attachment-less and cruel. Some see Dream as insane. Some see Dream as innocent. I think there are some that even think he deserved prison… etc lots of different understandings of the character and so if the finale didn’t align with the viewpoint of Dream then I can see people not liking it or just not liking it because Dream didn’t get redemption, or forgiveness, or sympathy, or a happy ending.

Hope that shares some light on it and answers your question I guess. <3 <3 Sorry for the length… it’s inevitable at this point I think lol. And here I thought my first essay on the matter did a good job. ;D

#Having said all that there are some characters whose character arcs were a little lackluster #but again that is partially due to outside reasons #dsmp analysis #dsmp finale #did someone order an essay?#I mean like you did right? lol XD #dsmp #hello there #<3 <3 #dsmpblr #dream smp #c!discduo #dreblr #c!stagedduo #c!dream #c!tommyinnit #c!punz #c!dream and c!tommy

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motorcycleboy9 · 11 months ago

Note

HIII 8 9 11 16 FOR ASK THING

thank you sm for the questions!

8. How did you get into The Outsiders?

ohhh. man.

well I moved to the US last year and in december my english teacher made us divide into book-reading groups in the realistic fiction genre. there were about 4 options, and I did not pick the outsiders btw, and for some reason I thought it was about musical bands? I also remember liking the cover of the book

anyway at the two last days of school before the christmas break we watched the outsiders movie in class. and when it got to the church sunset scene I fucking lost it. and when it was the johnny and dally death scenes, I was freaking out in my mind. AND I KNEW IT WAS WHAT I NEEDED

after the end of the break I asked my teacher to read the book, and that's how it went. by the way, while watching the movie I didn't understand anything but gayness and tragedy (my listening skills suck), so when I read the book it made much more sense.

9. What's your favorite scene/moment from the book?

1) Hospital reunion

the moment that made Pony realize all the feeling Darry had for him. while watching the movie for the first time, I didn't get much of it, mostly because I was still at the point of trying to remember who is who. but reading the book I was fighting to not start to cry. I still do.

2) Johhny, Dally, and Pony talk in the car before fire in the church.

the moment that shoved most of dally's concern for johhny, him not wanting johnny to get hurt and go through the same thing he did once. and his voice changing to a different tone when saying that. uhh. I just can't do it.

3) Pony and Dally talk in the car on the way to the hospital. or more like monolog. whatever.

4) Johnny's death. No comment. I'm still not over it.

Other ones: (I'm not gonna take pictures anymore I'm tired)

5) Johnny's letter

6) Dally's death

7) Ponyboy with busted bottle and Socs, at the grocery store with Steve and Two-bit.

8) Pre-rumble

11. What's your opinion on the movie?

as I already said, I watched the movie before I read the book, so I wasn't really critical of it.

7/10 for the cast lineup, the hell are they all dark haired for? whoever picked ralph macchio for johnny should know it was the best decision ever. I got a crush on matt dillon when I watched the movie so who am I to blame others for that 😭😭 though even if it wasn't the best fit for dallas I'm still glad I found out about him

8/10 for book-accuracy. I would love it if it had been PERFECTLY in line with the book, but I know it isn't possible, so... it was good enough, I guess.

9/10 for the picture. that was indeed beautiful. my mom kept bugging me about the size of johnny's knife though, and that it wasn't possible to kill a person with such a small blade. well I don't know about that.

16. there isn't going to be any explanation because it's too hard to think of at 1am, sorry

1) johnny and cherry

2) sylvia (thought we didn't even see her) and angela

3) bob and johnny. and I mean actually talk, not just beat one up and then kill another.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #se hinton #the outsiders 1983 #nicktalks #the outsiders ask

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mamamittens · 2 years ago

Text

Requested Calling (Pt. 3)

Pt. 1, Pt. 2

Warnings: Uh, vague and mild references to masturbation as stress relief. And possibly other gross bodily functions. It's not super relevant and does not directly feature, don't worry, I just didn't want anyone to be blindsided or confused about why there would be concern with a preteen sharing cell space with a grown man. (They are technically prisoners on the Moby Dick after all, and Whitebeard is a bit old fashioned to boot). Light anxiety/panic attack due to trauma.

Word Count: 1,960

She supposed that this was to be expected. Whitebeard’s crew were quite nice, but they were still prisoners. Though she did notice that the lamps were actually adjusted to full brightness rather than leaving the cells darkened and cold. One of the commanders, a tall blond man with a lazy gait and large tattoo across his bare chest, led the way. A few others dividing up supplies for them to use during their stay. Blankets, some books, and spare clothing to change into whenever they gave up on their ruined unforms.

Uncertainly, she looked around, still holding onto the trailing sleeve of her captain, when the commander grabbed her shoulder. She looked up at him questioningly. He kneeled down closer to her height as her captain grimaced but didn’t say anything.

“Sorry, kiddo. There’s not a lot of privacy here. Oyaji, my brothers, and I don’t think it’s appropriate for a girl to stay in the same wing with a bunch of grown men. I don’t know what accommodations you had before, but I’m pretty sure you didn’t sleep in the same room as your crewmates.” Her captain cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself.

“She shared a room with Doctor Crusoe for the first month while she recovered but after that, you’d be right, Phoenix. With the exception of bad storms overnight.” Captain Hektor said. “But where will she stay? Seems awful convenient given your captain’s intentions to separate her from the rest of us.” He accused lightly.

The commander grinned, almost amused.

“Opposite side of course. She’s not going far.”

She looked at them both quietly, her chest aching.

She hadn’t been alone since she was pulled from the sea. The idea of having to do so in a cell… her hands shook.

This… this must be what fear feels like.

Something small and frail fluttering in her chest. Vibrating in her veins and stinging her eyes. Light danced around her lashes as she looked up at Captain Hektor. He blanched, quickly kneeling down and waving his hands about uncertainly.

“Ack! Nonono! It’s alright! N-None of that, sweetheart!” Captain Hektor cried out.

“The nerve! Scarin’ the wee lass! C’mere girly-pop, it’s a’right.” Doctor Crusoe swept her up in a soft hug, the scent of tobacco and antiseptic strong as she buried her face into his uniform. A firm hand rubbing over her shoulders. “The big, mean ole pirate didn’t mean it like tha’. Yer not stayin’ ‘n there all alone f’rever! J’st to sleep, isn’t tha’ right? Phoenix?”

She clutched his uniform, her breath sticking in her throat as she tried to dry her eyes. She felt silly.

It wasn’t like she’d been threatened.

She was just being told she’d be staying in a cell! All… all alone. Away from the men she’d grown close to over the past few months on a ship filled with people she didn’t know. Who towered over her and didn’t have any pressing reason to be nice. Ample reason to not be nice, in fact! Given her current, technical occupation as a marine.

“Of course! We’re hardly concerned about any of you sabotaging the ship after all. You’ll be restricted on where you can go, of course. And any… poor behavior will lead to confinement. But we’re not keeping you down here all day forever!” She felt a soft tap on her shoulder and after rubbing her sore eyes she turned in Doctor Crusoe’s arms. The commander looked at her softly, a kind, understanding smile gracing his features. He tapped her nose before brushing his knuckle over her damp cheek. “It’s going to be alright, kid. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”

He seemed sincere.

She looked around at her fellow crewmates. They seemed about as happy as she was, but not worried. A few spoke up.

“Yeah! They’re not the worst as far as pirates go!”

“You dumbass, that’s not reassuring!”

“S-Sorry! W-What I mean to say is that maybe if you holler, we can still hear you!”

Shinji received a hard slap to the back of his head for the comment.

“Not! Helping!”

The commander sighed, rubbing his face as he muttered so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

“…well at least they’ll fit in once they ditch the uniforms.” He rolled his eyes and gave her another gentle smile. “Both sections will have night guards to make sure there aren’t any shenanigans from you or my own crew. So really, you won’t be alone at all kiddo.”

…it wouldn’t be her own crew but…

Anything was better than being alone.

She reached out and took the commander’s hand, allowing herself to be lifted out of Doctor Crusoe’s arms without any protest. He picked her up easily, settling her on his hip with a chuckle as she held onto his neck for reassurance.

“We do need to check you over again though before you get settled in. Ace told me that you had a pretty nasty concussion. Our doctors are some of the best in the New World to help look after Oyaji—No offence Doctor Crusoe.” He said, sparing the doctor a glance. He waved it off with a roll of his eyes.

“No offense taken here, laddie. A second opinion is always welcome.” He winked at her before the commander started walked back out of the section. Leaving her crewmates behind.

--*--

Marco carried the kid with a gentle grip, aware of how slight she felt in his arms. Not alarmingly so, thankfully, but enough that he was glad for the excuse to have her looked over. Pediatrics wasn’t his strong suit, but there were several in his division that dabbled often enough on the various islands they stopped at. Her eyes were still a little red, her nose tinged with color after the small upset. It was surprising how expressive her eyes were given the relative lack of emotional range she’d shown thus far. He felt bad about it, really, but not enough to change his mind about her accommodation.

A grown adult marine might have been kept where she was regardless of gender—maybe, Oyaji was old fashioned after all—but a preteen girl? Absolutely not. And not because they suspected anything malicious from the marines. Grown men just tend to be… weird under stress. And the last thing he wanted was to have to facilitate a conversation about sexuality if she saw something she wasn’t meant to. It wasn’t like the cells had separated bathrooms after all.

Marco’s had the misfortune of sharing bathroom space with grown men his own age that he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“I’m Marco by the way.” Marco said as they approached the medical ward. She jerked in his arms, head swiveling towards him from her curious gawking at the walls of the Moby Dick. Gold eye wide and strangely catching the light in her pupil. Her hand around his shoulder rubbing the collar of his jacket thoughtfully.

“Hi, Marco.” She whispered softly, looking at the nurse organizing spare bedding that had been freshly laundered.

“Get Doctor Isa, she’s the most experienced with kids.” Marco ordered, cutting off the chance for the nurse to coo over the little marine. He couldn’t exactly blame her reaction. Most of his brothers were hardly cute after all.

And the kid in her too-big marine uniform looked like she was playing dress up. Hat settled crookedly over her curiously purple-blue hair.

Doctor Isa was quick to shuffle out of her office with a smile, doctors coat thrown over the pink uniform most nurses chose to wear due to a off-color joke Oyaji made a decade ago.

He sure did eat his words when he had to take his medication without complaint though…

“Why hello! I’ve heard so much about you already, dearie~! Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll run through my checklist!” She greeted, pink curls bouncing animatedly around her ears as she grinned. Marco obliged and set her down on an exam table in a separated room. He knew damn well others would get nosy, so he shut the door preemptively. Several doctors and nurses scowling at him like he wasn’t their commander.

Sitting on a bed made for grown men did little to alleviate how small the kid looked.

Isa poked and jokingly prodded the kid with her stethoscope while she talked. Distracting the kid into giving honest answers without thought. Isa seemed displeased at the exceedingly low volume the kid was capable of giving with her voice, gently poking rubbing the kid’s throat and inspecting her tonsils. She frowned as she tipped the kid’s head this was and that.

“Hmm… I’d need to some other equipment to check it out, but it seems like there’s something unusual with your vocal cords, sweetie. It could explain why excessive volume hurts. And you still have most of your milk teeth… all in good condition so you must have had a healthy lifestyle before but… how old did you say you were, sweetie?” Isa pulled out the tongue compressor.

“Maybe thirteen?” Isa frowned, looking down and pulling off a shoe, revealing newspaper stuffed inside them. Right. The marine captain did say she was too small for a proper uniform. Isa lifted up the kid’s skinny leg, brushing her thumb over the shin.

“Well, you’re certainly tall for your age but… you can’t be older than eleven. I’d need to do an x-ray or some bloodwork to check, but I suspect you’re likely closer to ten, sweetie.” Isa apologized softly. “But the good news is that you’ve recovered from your concussion. I don’t recommend any head thrashing for the time being, though. There’s enough lack of sense on this ship as it is.” Isa joked, giving Marco a look.

Marco decided to ignore the objectively true comment. His brother’s (which one? Does it matter? No. No it does not) constant bullshit spoke for itself.

There was a knock on the door. Marco glared at it before getting up, finding Ace on the other side grinning sheepishly.

“S-Sorry, Marco! But hey, I remembered to knock this time!” Ace laughed, leaning to look past Marco and wave at the kid. “I heard you made her cry, so I thought she’d like a friendlier visitor!” Marco narrowed his eyes and arched his brow.

“What? Like you, you menace?” Marco huffed. Ace paused, nose wrinkling in offense.

“What?! Hey!” Ace shook himself suddenly. “No! I mean Stefan! At least until we find a soft toy—girls like those, right? To sleep with?” Ace whispered as he moved to let Stefan trot into the room.

The kid’s eyes lit up as she glanced at Isa for permission. Amused, she nodded, allowing the kid to hop down and give the spoiled mutt the pets he’d clearly been lacking before. She sat on the floor and allowed the dog to clamber onto her lap, nearly knocking her over as he wagged his tail furiously, giggling as she rubbed his ears. Stefan rained slobbery kisses with restrained yips as a tradeoff, knocking off the tacky marine hat. A stray hair leapt up and curled off the kid’s head, bouncing with every laugh.

Marco wondered if Oyaji would lose his sleeping partner for the foreseeable future. Stefan was hardly unfriendly as far as dogs go, but he clearly already adored the kid. Ah well… Oyaji would just have to suck it up. Though it was cute how obviously the kid had found her favorite Whitebeard pirate. Ace looked inordinately pleased with himself and Marco couldn’t bring himself to complain.

The whole scene was stupid cute, after all. And as amusing as his family was, cute was a rare descriptor. As hard as Ace tried when begging for extra food.

#one piece #one piece oc #marco the phoenix #portgas d ace #stefan one piece #whitebeard pirates #call and response OP #that'll be the series tag ig #unless yall got a better idea #stefan in the whitebeard therapy dog and you can fight me about it

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 2 years ago

Text

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK THREE: WARMER - CHAPTER 8

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 3 Chapter 1 is here …

MPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER EIGHT: KESLA

Lady Sulin Naru is what I’d gently refer to as a distraction. Within the first few minutes of her revealing herself I could tell that I wasn’t the only one immensely struck by her almost unfathomable beauty, I’ve caught Thel examining her with distinct interest since we were all bid to sit down so we could finally start our discussion. Shay too, but I admit her interest seems more like simple curiosity than attraction. Dumoli ain’t immune to the spell either, although I get the impression having Yeslee close by is giving him something to strongly divide his attention, which is interesting in itself. And then there’s Art … well, his interest was entirely expected, it was inevitable really, but there’s no ignoring the fact that he’s not paying any attention to what’s actually being said now, and I’m sure the newcomer is starting to pick up on it. She’d have to be blind or stupid to miss it, and she’s clearly neither …

She looks human, but … no, I’m really not entirely convinced. The fact that she’s revealed herself to be a sorcerer might have something to do with it, but I think there might be something more to it than that. It’s not just her beauty, I’m sure her genuinely palpable presence has a real, as yet unrevealed cause. I’ve noticed Yeslee taking a distinct interest in her too, although in her case it’s clear that she’s just as deeply suspicious as I can’t help being. She says she’s here for our benefit, to help Darion. She says it, but I don’t buy it. Not really. It's just too convenient.

A sorcerer though … that’s a big deal however I look at it. I’ve dealt with other kinds of mages before – thanks to Gael and a few others I knew before her, I’ve become infinitely familiar with wizards, both Order-trained and hedge, and it’s almost impossible to grow up in Rundao without interacting with clerics at least on occasion. I’ve encountered warlocks before too, even before Ashsong, although he was the most powerful I’ve encountered by a very wide margin indeed. There was even a necromancer once, and she was a nasty piece of work, I lost two friends taking her down, but most of the undead I’ve encountered in my life have come through the influence of liches, and those were blessed rare. Druids, on the other hand, come in all shapes and sizes, from tribal shamans to crazy hermits living out in the wilds, but every one that I’ve met in my life had one thing in common – they were just one bad choice away from a very sudden and very wet explosion. I’ve encountered all kinds of magic in my time, so a new kind of practitioner should be nothing new at all.

But a sorcerer … yeah, that’s something a little different. Mages are always born with the potential for magic, if you don’t at least have a touch of the arcane in your blood you have no hope of picking it up, at least without the help of the gods, like clerics. At least that’s how I’ve been led to understand it, mostly through what Gael’s told us. For most it manifests sometime in their childhood, but in others it can take much longer, although there’s also the fact that most of the Silver Order’s ranks tend to come from more privileged backgrounds, either through nobility or the merchant classes. Most hedge wizards tend to be common blood mages the Order checks miss, or more likely simply don’t bother checking. Most of the time without real training or at least the acquisition of some forms of magical book-learning, most of them don’t graduate much past simple tricks, or end up devolving into druids when they give in to the influence of wild magic. The rest tends to follow a very predictable path.

Sorcerers are something special. A sorcerer is a mage who is born with truly massive magical potential, so much that the magic lives in their very bones, in every fibre of their being. They always develop their talents at the onset of their adolescence, but their potential is so strong that they require no learning to master their gifts, somehow their will is so inherently powerful the wild magic just obeys their very whims. This means they can master impressively complex spells with almost no prior knowledge, and achieve their effects without the use of incantations, sigils or components. They’re walking, talking contradictions to the core rules of magic itself, Gael’s precious mantra that you cannot get something in exchange for nothing.

As you can imagine, this has always made them a particularly consternating fact of life for the Silver Order, who hold such a strict monopoly on keeping magic under safe control. It’s likely quite the relief to them, then, that sorcerers are such a rarity, a birth coming maybe once or twice in a generation, or not at all. Gael says there’s a bunch of theories about it, some believing that only the seventh child of a seventh child can become a sorcerer, although this has never been proven to be more than an anecdote. Given that I’ve known plenty of people who come from big families where lots of kids tend to run in the bloodlines, I find that one highly doubtful. Unless the Murphins have been keeping one particularly big secret since I known ‘em.

Whatever it is, their rarity is probably a good thing. Some sorcerers are forces for good, but many more have gone to the bad side in a major way over the ages since the Sundering, enough that they’ve developed a less than savoury reputation over the years. So the fact she claims to be on good terms with one of the most legendary wizards to ever graduate from the Silver Order’s Academy should put me at ease. If she’s being truthful, at least. The problem is Gael doesn’t know her, doesn’t know her name.

But Daste does, she vouches for her. That should put me at ease too, but something’s rubbing me up the wrong way about her, I just can’t put my finger on it.

As Daste’s assistant Sirsk finishes handing out more cups of that indecently gorgeous tea, Naru stirs her own cup gently with her spoon, but her eyes are on Gael now. I’ve noticed her looking at our young half-elf wizard a lot since we were all introduced, actually, her ongoing interest definitely not dulled by the matters at hand. As we’ve been talking, some pleasantries quickly dispensed with so we could get down to the meat after bringing Madame Daste and Lady Naru up to speed on what we’ve discovered, she’s spent as much time asking after Gael, probing her with questions about herself. How she’s been since leaving the Academy, how she’s finding things out here in the wide world. The fact that she recently died ain’t been broached yet, but I’m somewhat curious to see what hr reaction might be. Something about the way she’s being so gentle and yet so curiously insistent in her questions … I dunno, I don’t feel like anything untoward, somehow I see something else in her eyes when she looks at Gael. Almost like a genuine, deep fondness. As if she’s already known her for years even though they’ve just met.

Instead of taking a sip of my own tea, I pick up one of the sugary little biscuits that’s been set on my saucer and dunk it for a few moments, trusting its integrity’s good enough at least that I can give it a cautious swirl to sweeten the tea. “So, Madame Daste, you wanted to see us, and I’m sure it wasn’t just that your fancy friend here wanted to meet us too, or just so you could get an update on our progress.”

“Of course.” Daste clears her throat as she sets her own cup down on the saucer, notably without the shot of liquor she had in hers last time, I noticed. “Master Sonagh is making a recovery.”

Shay sits up at that, and I’ll admit I’m a little heartened to see it. I remember how she was after the incident in his home last week, and more after seeing his children’s reactions to his grievous injuries. It was instantly clear that Shay was projecting onto them in that moment, seeing both herself and her young friend Tarrow in it. Poor kid … he really didn’t deserve what happened to him. It brought it all back to her, I saw. “He’s awake?”

“He is. He’s still got a ways to go, I’m told. Apparently the poison was a particularly nasty one, it caused Brigid’s healers quite a lot of trouble in their attempts to mend the damage. He’ll be at the temple for another week, it looks like, but they’re keeping him safe, and apparently the twins have won the staff over admirably too.”

“Good.” Shay manages a little chuckle there, and I know she’s remembering how boisterous Sonagh’s son and daughter were when we met them. “Brigid’s temple, that’s … yeah, we had dealings with them back in Hocknar, a few times in the past. They love kids. They’ll be fine there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll have a ball there.” I recover the biscuit from the tea, and it’s clearly a strong one cuz it’s held together well. I lift it carefully to my mouth and pop the whole thing in.

“Sonagh asked after you all as well, actually. I went by this morning, before setting this meeting, so I could talk to him personally.” Daste picks up her cup again. “It seemed more prudent given our security concerns, I knew nothing I said would be overheard. But I wanted to see him as well. I’ve grown quite fond of that old orc in our dealings.”

I swallow the mouthful, regarding her for a moment as she takes a sip. “What’d he have to say?”

“Well, he imparted the relevant information about your newfound partners in the investigation, but since you’d already made contact with them on your own that wound up as something of a moot point. Given what happened to him, though, it was clear enough to me that his life and his children are at risk now too, so I’ve advised him to stay at the temple beyond his recovery.”

“That’s smart, I would’ve given him the same advice.” Picking up the spoon now, I give the tea a little stir to put the added sweetness to work. “Things have gotten pretty complicated now, though. After what happened the other night I can’t help wondering how much longer they’ll try an’ keep this discreet.”

“Having had similar thoughts, I charged a detachment of townsguard militia to keep an eye on the place.” She frowns at the collection of rightfully dubious looks from round the table. “No need to be concerned, I used one of my most trusted contacts in the guard, they’re all handpicked officers he vouches for, and they’ll be most discreet. Sonagh will be safe enough for now, at least.”

“Besides, I’d imagine their attentions are directed elsewhere right now.” Naru muses before gently blowing on her own tea. Taking a sip, she looks my way again. “Mmm … I take it you’re interested in this angle involving the tavern owner?”

“Jammund?” I shoot a look to Gael, who’s frowning a touch now, then try Thel, and I realise she’s managing to look past the beauty now as her own defences have come up. “Probably. You know anything about him?

“Not personally, but I’ve heard the name on occasion. He’s something of a small local legend here, once upon a time he was quite the hellraiser. That was before the Provisional crackdown, though. I’m sure you know something about that, it came around the same time as the end of the rebellion.”

I can’t help it, I blink without even thinking. She’s so pristine as she looks at me, there’s an element of butter-wouldn’t-melt, but I ain’t convinced. “That was a while back.”

“Of course. But sometimes there’s opportunity in chaos. You’ve entertained the possibility that he’s still in the smuggling game, of course, but now you suspect there’s a darker agenda behind it. You mentioned something about a possible warlock?”

“That was entirely a guess, but there’s enough evidence to shore up the theory.” Gael answers her, although they shoot me a look immediately after to check if I’m all right with their voicing this opinion. “Some of the magic this wizard used was certainly very strange, and potentially eldritch. Some of it also seemed in keeping with similar magic we recently encountered.”

Shay clears her throat very loudly, and I look her way as well as Gael as they realise they almost gave away a bigger piece of the puzzle than might’ve been smart. It’s too late, though. Naru’s definitely too sharp. “How so?”

All right, this could actually sort the question out once and for all. “Well, we had a run-in with an unusually powerful warlock about a month back. We were on the Order’s clock at the time, and this particular threat used to be a person of great import there. Y’know Darion, then you’ll know he had a particular mentor when he was at the Academy, right?”

I’m watching Naru close now, but just through the corner of my eye I’m sure I see Gael sit forward, frowning again as they open their mouth but then just close it as they get on my page. The sorcerer simply cocks a bow, still focused on me. “Ashsong? I heard he was dead. Years ago. Long before any of you were born.” She smiles a little. “Well, most of you. Present company notwithstanding, Big Man.”

“No exception is taken, Lady Naru.” comes Big Man’s inevitable rumble from where he’s still stood at the far end of the table. “I only became operational again very recently.”

Well, that’s somewhat definitive. “Rumours of Master Ashsong’s death were sadly incorrect. Bastard pulled a fast one on the Order, or ‘least that’s what it looks like. Got himself a sponsor somewhere up North.”

“Tektehrans?” Her frown is surprisingly subtle, barely marking her face at all, I notice. Clearly she’s not someone who lines easily, since I’m getting the distinct impression now she’s a lot older than she looks. Maybe it’s a sorcerer thing.

“No, that would’ve been easy. Bit further than that.”

Her brows arch again as the implication sinks in, and she pauses for a long moment, thinking now, while her frown returns, deeper now as she looks down at the table. “The Night Lands? That’s … worrying.”

“The bastard’s dead now, thankfully.” Shay growls, and I’m not even remotely surprised to hear the cold, lingering hatred in her words. When I look her way I’m no more surprised to see how pale her knuckles are now as she grips both her fists. “So’s the thing that came with him. After a fashion.”

Naru looks up now, her eyes fixing right on Shay, and there’s a cautious darkness in them now, I can see. “Fuck … there was a Shade?”

This time it’s Yeslee that I see shift through the corner of my eye, and I can’t help looking her way while a cold silence descends upon the group. Nothing’s said for a long moment, and when I look her way the way she’s looking at Naru is something I almost never see in Yes – she looks genuinely rattled. She shoots a look my way and opens her mouth, but she don’t seem too keen on talking either when she closes it again.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What the fuck’s a Shade?”

Naru watches me for a beat, and that darkness is still there behind her eyes. That’s a hell of a haunted look, it doesn’t age her but somehow I can still see how many years she’s got under her belt now. She’s not a young woman, it turned out, at the very least she’s travelled far and seen a whole lot. Not all of it good, clearly. “It’s … never really been made clear to anyone, really. It’s a thing in human form. Wearing a constructed body, it’s not really flesh and blood, as far as any of us can work out it’s more like some form of will made manifest.” She sighs. “It’s hard to explain. But you said it was killed?”

“Like I said, after a fashion.” Shay growls “When Ashsong died, it died too. Just went away in a puff of … well, not smoke exactly, but …”

“It was most fearful of Holy Light.” Krakka rasps from where he’s barely able to put his elbows up on the table in his own chair, clearly ultimately content to just let his beak rest on his folded hands. “The glory of My Lady seemed to cause it genuine distress. I had imbued Kesla’s blades with the strength of her Holy Will, and when she attacked it with them this … creature shied from their light.”

“It’s most likely that the Shade simply lost its corporeal form when its tether was severed by Ashsong’s death. I doubt it actually died.” Naru looks down at her tea now, picking up the cup but not raising it to her lips. Instead she simply frowns into its depths. “Of course, this is all pure conjecture. There’s no proof that eldritch magic comes from the Night Lands or the influence of Shades, any more than necromancers or the undead, but there’s the possibility. Just because there’s another warlock doesn’t automatically mean that there’s a shade, or that this man Jammund may be under its influence.”

“The magic was remarkably similar, though.” Gael admits.

“Perhaps.” Naru looks their way again, finally taking a sip as she watches them over the rim of the cup. Again there’s that regard, so loaded. “I imagine it was quite the battle when you took Ashsong down. He was an incredibly powerful wizard even before he found such monstrous patrons. I expect your victory came at some cost.”

When I look at Shay I see her knuckles tighten more, her jaw going very stiff now, and I know she’s reliving that desperate fight in the bowels of Heldereth. “Yeah, he … he didn’t go down easy, we lost some friends. Including Gael.”

Naru chokes on her second sip, she’s genuinely shocked. As she splutters her eyes go straight to Gael, wide and desperate now, and suddenly I reckon I’m actually seeing her, not the façade she’s put up. “You died? But … your father –”

Gael’s genuinely wincing this time as they protest: “I got better!” Repeating what’s becoming a familiar mantra. “Krakka fixed me, his goddess brough me back. Shay helped. And it wasn’t like I planned for it to happen, it was a fight. I was trying to protect my friends, and make sure he didn’t do something horrible.” The look they shoot at me is so mad, I swear they’re genuinely furious at me for letting that slip.

“And I’m sure your father would be proud of you, but you still died.” Naru’s frown is deep now, and again I see some of her age starting to show again. It’s a strange thing, like some strange optical effect, I can’t help wondering if perhaps the perfect face we see most of the time might be at least partly some kind of strange projection. “Gods, you’re more like him than I ever thought would be possible.”

That brings Gael up short, and they watch her for a long beat, their frustration slipping away quickly as obvious curiosity takes hold. “What are you … you mean he’s died before?”

“Twice, at least that I know of.” Naru takes a deep breath and puts her cup back down as she smooths her expression, becoming serene and perfectly youthful once more, but I’m sure I detect a little rueful annoyance boiling underneath now. “That bloody fool … he’s a wonderful, inspiring man, and a good friend, but … gods, he has a talent for getting himself into trouble sometimes. It’s almost like it just seeks him out on occasion. And he refuses to let anyone else take the big risks, he’s always the first to jump into the dragon’s mouth if it means protecting someone else. The last time he died it was a curse meant for me, he just threw me out of the way and took the bolt full in the face himself. If we hadn’t had a cleric of Rao with us I would have lost him.”

“That’s … well, I’m sorry, then.” Gael’s grown quite flushed again, but they’re not so crestfallen now as they were, at least. “To all of you.”

“Oh, no …” Naru sighs again, offering up a commiserating smile. “No, it’s quite all right. He can be so infuriating, sometimes, but … he’s the kindest man I know, and he can be so sweet. And he’s loyal to a fault, at times. It’s impossible not to love a man like that. It’s just sobering to discover that … his child is so very much like he is.”

The way she keeps looking at Gael’s starting to make sense, now. I don’t know what Darion’s really like, but if he looks as much like ‘em as his personality clearly matches, then I’m starting to suspect it must be like looking at a particularly striking copy of him. I’m convinced that Naru genuinely knows him now, and it’s become fundamentally clear she’s as fond of him as we are of our own young wizard.

“They are.” I can’t help it, the words just slip out, and when Gael blinks at me I just look right back, unashamed by what I’m saying now. “We love ‘em very much, so I suspect you’re on the money there.”

Gael opens their mouth to speak but again their words fail them. Shay’s not sat quite close enough to them to give ‘em a hug, so instead she just reaches over and gives their shoulder a good reassuring squeeze.

The silence lasts for a few moments, but it’s comfortable now, and I think many of the group are just relieved now, because at least now we know we can trust this Lady Naru after all, since she’s undeniably a friend of Darion Foxtail. I chance a look at Yeslee, but it seems she’s not much more relaxed than she was before, but then it’s nothing new. She’s never that comfortable in this kind of environment even when she’s in a good mood. Mostly she just seems deeply thoughtful now.

“Well, it’s clear that Jammund’s definitely our next point of focus, but we’re really just talking ourselves round in circles.” Tulen surprises us all in the simple, matter of fact way she’s just voiced that opinion, but she ain’t wrong. “We still don’t have a next move.”

“Bloody true …” I mutter, picking up my cup now and giving it a little whiff. Strong, just like before, evocative. I take a little sip, and it’s not so hot now, comfortable enough for my lips, but also the sweetening of the sugar from the biscuit seems to have mellowed the taste some. “Mmmm … it’s true, like I said we know he’s definitely of interest cuz that little bitch is there with him, means that big bitch is somewhere close by, or ‘least he’s got a connection to her somewhere in this messy mix. I dunno …” I put the cup down, picking up one of the remaining biscuits now, but not dunking it yet. “It’s tenuous, I reckon. We don’t know exactly how he’s mixed up in this. You say he’s still in the smuggling game, but then Darwyn said he’s s’posed to be retired now, ‘least that’s how it seems to most o’ the people know him. Unless it’s more that he’s … what’s the word? Facilitating, right? That’s what he’s doing. Just opening the roads up for somebody else to do the smuggling instead. I mean, he’d still have the contacts from before, all he’d really have to do is send whoever it is to the right people.”

“But then …” Darwyn frowns, looking like somebody just shat in her teacup as she flounders even worse than Krakka in her seat, all I can really see of her is her head poking up above the tabletop. “That’s worse, though. I mean, that would mean it’s somebody ain’t even known to us. Which would just put us right back where we started.”

“Not necessarily.” Daste’s playing with her cup now, her fingers curled around it as she gently turns it a few inches in one direction and then back the other way, over and over, looking down into it with a thoughtful air. “There are eyes on those docks all the time, very powerful eyes. This is the number one port in all of Rundao, it may not be the capitol but in some key ways it’s a far more important city than Tabaphic. Those docks are more than a business hub, they’re a lifeline for this country. The people who control it can be very powerful, so of course they bear watching very closely.”

“By who?” I give her a cool look. “The townsguard? No offence, I know they’re your purview but y’know how it goes. Half of ‘em are bent as a corkscrew.”

“Oh no, you know well enough, I’ve made it clear enough already that I have my own resources I place a good deal more trust in than that.” She lets go of her cup now, lacing her fingers together on the table in front of her instead. “The docks are the purview of others, but I’ve made it my business to keep an eye on their affairs just as, I suspect, certain other individuals have.” She turns to look at Darwyn now as she says that, and I’m sure she catches the meaning as well as I do.

“You mean somebody else in the Authority might be involved?” I shoot a look at Naru, who’s just watching her good friend in the local government with a cocked brow and a cool look. “Like who? I seem to remember you saying there were more’n a few slimy buggers bore keeping a close eye on. Anybody in particular occur?”

“More than one, certainly.” Naru muses “The problem is that they’re all of them so used to conniving there’d be no way to tell relatively legitimate attempts at exploiting their position from any genuine treachery.” She looks to Daste, who ponders for a moment, then just nods to her. “There are some names in particular, though, that occur. At least one who merits strong consideration.”

Nodding myself, I look at Darwyn again, wondering if she’s considering the same possibilities. Thanks to her deep ties to her boss, Cobb, she’s got a decent enough idea of the inner workings of the Authority she could probably come to the same conclusions herself … probably better, in some ways. If Cobb does still have the kind of tight grip on what happens in Untermer’s criminal underworld as he’s s’posed to, then he’ll know well enough about these naughty little extra sources of income certain officials enjoy. Means she does too. When she looks up she catches my eye, and she holds my gaze for an electric moment, making me suspect she knows that I know.

“Sounds like something’s definitely worth looking into. Might be smart if you gave us a rundown to where to look, and how to go about it.”

“Yes, I think advice there would be prudent.” The way Tulen says that tells me she’s desperate to ram the point home, especially to me as she looks my way. “Digging in that particular direction could be … sensitive.”

“Oh, we can do sensitive when we need to.” I smile at her, and I can’t help a little menace sneaking into the way I say it. Art snorts, failing to restrain a chuckle, and I shoot him a look.

Daste frowns a little at that. “I should hope so. I can’t have you making waves in the Authority, even if you are here on official business from the Order. Even if some of my colleagues are wrapped up in this, it would be very bad for me to be seen to be poking my nose where it’s not permitted. I go to great lengths to keep the poking I do as much under the table as I can.”

“Thankfully I don’t usually have to worry about that.” Naru smiles, and it’s pretty sly. There’s something almost predatory about it, in fact, which takes me by surprise. “If I opened a few doors for them, it might make things go a little smoother.”

“Might be smart.” In the end I don’t bother dunking my biscuit, instead just taking a bite from it and chewing for a thoughtful moment, then swallowing as I come to my conclusion. “Could be we could approach this from a few different angles at once. Reckon it’s time we tried to get something outta one of the other leads we got going for us.”

“What you on about, boss?” Art frowns, his own cup now hovering forgotten just under his chin in both hands. “I thought this was all we had left to go with.”

Turning to Thel, I look her over for a moment. When she notices my attention she looks back and starts frowning, as if preparing to question my sudden interest. “Gael, you still got that hanky? The one with the blood on it?”

Thel’s frown deepens a touch while Gael starts rummaging through their components bag now, then it starts to smooth out as she raises one brow, realisation clearly dawning now. “Ah. Yeah, that’s right.”

“Yes, it’s here.” Gael lifts the roughly bundled piece of stained linen as they close the flap of their satchel again. They’re frowning too now as they turn to me. “But I don’t understand, I thought we’d decided this was beyond a long shot.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I turn back to Thel. “You did say he got away the other night.”

“I did, yeah.” Thel’s frown returns now, and I can see the fires of vengeance starting to burn behind her eyes now. “Little shit … oh yeah. Definitely. Gimme a chance to finish that once and for all.”

“Cept we want him alive, remember? You’re welcome to run him down however you want, but we need him fit for questioning when we do get hold of him.”

“Course.” Thel shrugs, letting go a little sigh, but I can see a little smile starting to form now too. “At this point I’ll take him any way I can get him.”

“Good.” I look down at my hands for a moment, and as I ponder I idly drum my fingers on the tabletop. “All right, here’s how we’re gonna do this. Two groups again, like the other day, but we’re gonna be careful about it this time. Gael, Tulen, either o’ you got a clever spell that’s anything like what Big Man can do? Y’know, that …” I frown, turning back to Driver 8. “What is it you call it again, your sense thing?”

“My intermediate proximity security sensors, to give it the full designation.”

“Gods, no wonder I can never remember it.” I mutter, but I can’t help smiling a little, it’s a little funny sometimes how wonderfully matter-of-fact he makes this all seem. “Yeah, that. Like I said, either one o’ you got anything works like it?”

Gael frowns too, looking across at Tulen, who’s starting to mirror her expression. They both consider for a long moment, then Gael finally snaps their fingers, somewhat startling their friend from their own reverie. “Olsbeq’s Awareness Augment?”

Tulen winces, seeming genuinely offended. “Minerva, please no. That always made me feel so awful when we tried to perform it in classes. It gives me the worst vertigo, not to mention the paranoia. And doesn’t it hurt your ears?”

Cocking of their fine dark brows, Gael simply smiles. “You just have to work on filtering what you want to take in over everything else, so you don’t get overwhelmed.” They look to me. “I can do it.”

“That’s that settled then. I’m gonna send you with one group, you’ll be going with Shay and Thel. ‘Fact it’s probably best that it is you, since you got the hanky. You’re gonna go hunt down this Tog, but I want you all to be bloody careful about it, all right?”

The young half-elf nods their assent, while Shay and Thel exchange a look. “Sure thing, but …” Shay frowns. “I take it you’re in the other group with Big Man and whoever else. What are you doing?”

I turn to Naru now, who instantly cocks her own brow when I start to smile. “We’re gonna shake some trees.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of the creeping bam #book 3 chapter 8 #fantasy fiction #original fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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wolvesrain · 2 years ago

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if you are doing the character ask meme still, ocelot!

my general perception of them

ok i need to preface this by saying i think the world is divided into ocelot scholars and non ocelot scholars. and i am one of the non scholars on this topic, he was actually a character it took me a long time to understand and like. however i did grow to love him a lot through 1) reading a lot of analysis of him that has helped me understand his character 2) playing mgsv and 3) getting very invested in ocelhira because being in proximity to kaz will automatically make me like a character more. he's probably one of my favorites now, just below kaz and venom. i think he's fascinating, incredibly complex and also very amusing and entertaining. he's certainly not a good person but i do find his story a bit sad (he really didn't have a good start in life), even if a lot of it was the result of his consistently atrocious actions. i also just love how over the top his backstory and basically his entire life is.

his character in mgs3 still really irritates me though, idk what it is about him there but i want to dunk him in milk and throw him at the wall like that webkinz post. t4t mlm hostility.

an unpopular opinion or, failing that, a fun fact

i think he's capable of a wider range of emotions then he displays in game but he has no idea how to deal with or express them and is generally uncomfortable with intense displays of emotions, especially sadness and grief, from anyone he's attached to (which, to be fair, is at most about 3 people). big fan of when ppl explore this in fics/art. show me the forbidden ocelot emotions.

fun fact (headcanon): he is trans and he got top surgery sometime shortly before mgsv which is why he has the random chest window despite being covered up everywhere else. he's just rly hyped about the results but still wants to maintain his usual look. i also think he owns tons of books on animal and plant biology and is genuinely interested in the topic.

music i associate with them (if any)

ok i don't have any serious ocelot songs but i think during the nine years he listened to 9 to 5 while working (working as in committing terrible crimes) while kaz listened to material girl. duality of man. i hope someone else sees my vision here.

if I feel (spiritually) like I could beat them in a fight

mgs3 ocelot? yes. mgsv and onwards ocelot? absolutely not but i would still fight him because. well. i shan't say.

#ocelot #mgs #my post #(talking about the guy whose hobby is torture) well he's kind of sad actually :/#i used to think he was so ugly in mgsv too and then one day i was like he's kind of pretty actually. and it all went downhill from there.#✰☾

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usergreenpixel · 3 years ago

Text

JACOBIN FICTION CONVENTION MEETING 11: A TALE OF TWO CITIES (1859)

1. The Introduction

Hey, Citizens! I’m finally back with a new review, fresh out of the oven! Please, make yourself comfortable and brace yourselves for a wild ride that is this novel because boy do we have a lot to discuss!

“A Tale of Two Cities” is a novel written by Charles Dickens in 1859. You know, THE Dickens. Of “Oliver Twist”, “David Copperfield” and “A Christmas Carol” fame.

To be quite honest with you, my dear Citizens, I actually read all three of the aforementioned books from cover to cover and I have to admit that Dickens isn’t really on my list of favorite authors so at first I was hesitant about reviewing the book we’re going to talk about today. Something about Dickens’s writing style just...doesn’t click with me. I think that’s the best way to put it.

However, while researching this particular novel, I found out that it’s actually pretty infamous in our community but considered a classic so, as usual, my curiosity was off the charts at that point.

It didn’t help that @maggiec70 from the neighboring Napoleonic community refers to this novel and The Scarlet Pimpernel as “known hazards” so I decided to proceed with the review regardless.

Let’s just say that I was in for an extremely bad time, but more on that later.

(@maggiec70, Now I regret not heeding your warning, Madame Lannes...)

The book is in public domain and I downloaded it via Project Gutenberg, as I usually do with anglophone books in public domain. So, if you’re curious or masochistic enough to check it out, you know where to find it.

So, with that out of the way, let’s begin our meeting, pick apart this book and find out if this is yet another pathetic piece of Anglophone smear campaign against our Revolution or if its reputation in our community is simply blown out of proportion.

2. The Summary

The novel is divided into three parts in total, all of which are connected with an overarching plot where personal conflicts and family history overlap with the Revolution and the Reign of Terror.

Do these conflicts manage to be engaging though? Let’s try to find out.

3. The Story

Unfortunately, the plot is really confusing to me so it took me a while to comprehend what’s going on and I needed a lot of willpower not to drop the book despite the insane amounts of filler and the fact that Dickens really takes his sweet ass time to set everything up.

Now, I know that setting things up is important and all, but diving into extensive details even for the minor characters, when a much better way to develop them would be to have the relevant info intertwined with the plot itself, is a bit of an overkill in my opinion.

(Spoiler alert!)

But, from what I did eventually manage to understand, the first book is about one Jarvis Lorry who, after receiving a message saying “Recalled to Life”, helps a young French ingenue called Lucie Manette reunite with her father, Dr. Alexandre Manette.

The second book begins with the trial and the acquittal of yet another major character, Charles Darnay, then we see how a romance blooms between him and Lucie and they end up marrying.

Finally, the third book is about Darnay recklessly going back to France (his country of birth) to rescue a loyal servant of his family, only to be imprisoned due to being an aristocrat. Of course...

The rest of the story is about Lucie, Dr. Manette, Mr. Lorry, a barrister called Sydney Carton and Miss Pross, Lucie’s governess, trying to rescue Charles.

Now, all of this would’ve made for an exciting story. I’ll admit that much. However, the confusion caused by an excessive amount of filler and flashbacks, the fact that anglophone propaganda is off the charts and my personal dislike for the author’s writing style made it an absolute nightmare to get through the entire book without dying of boredom or just dropping it entirely.

Moving on before I descend into ranting madness.

4. The Characters

Thanks Supreme Being, actual historical figures don’t show up in the text so I won’t have to rip an ok to the author in that regard.

But let’s talk about some of the major characters, shall we?

First of all, I kinda like Dr. Manette as a character. He starts out as a broken shell of a man after his long imprisonment in La Bastille and, realistically, the trauma lingers throughout the course of the novel instead of magically going away the second he is reunited with his daughter. That said, this reunion and quality time spent together do help the doctor improve significantly and he doesn’t let trauma stand in his way when it comes to doing what he believes is right, which is admirable. All in all, quite a decently written character.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said about his daughter, Lucie Manette. She is pretty much your standard issue Victorian ingenue and she doesn’t have that much agency so she is a flat and overly perfect character in my book and I doubt modern readers will find her interesting.

Charles Darnay also seems typical on the surface. A righteous (if reckless) hero, in love with the Ingenue, you get the idea. It’s not until further into the story that things get truly interesting.

(Spoiler alert!)

In reality, Charles is a member of the notoriously corrupt and rotten Evrémonde family, nobles from France. It turns out that he changed his name and escaped to England to distance himself from that horrible legacy, which is very much understandable, but still dooms him just by association with that lineage. I wish this backstory would’ve been more developed when it comes to inner conflicts and such, but I’m glad that we got something beyond Young Hot Righteous Knight in Shining Armor ™️.

(Spoiler alert!)

Sydney Carton, the cynical barrister who resembles Charles, is probably one of the earliest examples of a troubled antihero. He is a cynic and an alcoholic and seems like a jerk, but he is in love with Lucie and is ready to do anything for her. In the end, he trades places with Charles and is executed so that Lucie and her daughter don’t lose Charles. I really like the fact that Sydney isn’t the jealous rival one would expect to see.

Then there are the villains, Monsieur and Madame Defarge.

They first appear as owner of a wine shop who took in Dr. Manette before the latter reunited with his daughter. However, as the story progresses, we find out that Madame Defarge is on a quest to wipe out the entire Evrémonde family, just as they had wiped out hers. In fact, she is so blinded by this revenge that she is more than willing to kill Charles, Lucie Manette and the couple’s young daughter, just for that vengeance.

Her husband, however, is less obsessed with vengeance and draws the line when it comes to killing children. Doesn’t stop him from assisting his wife everywhere else though.

In fact, in the book these two are shown rallying people up for the storming of La Bastille and become the representations of the author’s view on revolutionaries - bloodthirsty monsters who will stop at nothing to achieve their goals.

But, credit where it’s due, Madame Defarge’s revenge crusade is an understandable and a realistic motive, which makes her quite a decent villain. I also like the fact that her backstory isn’t treated as an excuse for her actions. Props for that.

The Revolution is also represented in some minor characters, like The Vengeance (Madame Defarge’s second-in-command and just as brutal as her boss), whose name is a reference to the trend of adopting new, Republican names.

Not all people did that, mind you, but, thanks to Citizen @frevandrest who shared the information with me, it wasn’t uncommon for people to change the names. I don’t know if anyone had “Vengeance” as a Republican name though...

One minor character who really gets to shine is Miss Pross. She loves Lucie Manette like a mother would and goes full Mama Bear on Madame Defarge for trying to kill Lucie Manette and her daughter, also named Lucie. In the process, although permanently deafened by the gunshot(is that even possible?), she shoots Madame Defarge. Let me repeat that. A GOVERNESS SHOOTS A BLOODTHIRSTY REVOLUTIONARY! I really like that, to be very honest. Don’t mess with protective parents!

I do like Mr. Lorry’s outwardly stoic demeanor, beneath which he hides a more caring side. Sadly, he doesn’t get much development.

As for Jerry Cruncher... Although technically he is on the side of the good guys, I don’t give a shit about him. Let me tell you why.

(Leans in and whispers)

I don’t care about domestic abusers and this motherfucker beats his wife. No joke. So fuck him.

Anyway, let’s move on.

5. The Setting.

Once again, too much filler. Descriptions are best used in moderation, like a tiny pinch of salt to make your cooking better. This, however, is the equivalent of dumping a full cup of salt into your dish. Good luck getting through that.

6. The Writing

Like I said, I don’t really like the way Dickens writes and this made reading a bit hard for me. There are also some old English words and grammar that I didn’t quite understand at first, both because my mother tongue is Russian and because it’s not quite contemporary but, for the most part, everything is at least comprehensible.

7. The Conclusion

All in all, while it lacks outright English nationalism, this book is still a boring smear campaign against Frev so I can’t recommend it to you, Citizens. Please, heed my warning, skip it and find something more fun to read.

Sure, the novel does have some characters with potential that I personally liked, but it’s far from enough to make up for the propaganda, the lack of proper development for a lot of characters, the incredibly long fillers and the plot that’s more stretched out (in terms of the time the author takes to get to the actual story) than chewing gum.

With that, let us conclude the eleventh meeting of the Jacobin Fiction Convention. Stay safe and stay tuned for more updates on the next review!

Until next time.

Love,

- Citizen Green Pixel

#french revolution #frev #history #frev art #jacobin fiction convention #review #book review #a tale of two cities #charles dickens #frev literature #french history #frev propaganda

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thebigqueer · 4 years ago

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Ok, here we go. Dark!Bianca idea. Shortly after the events in the desert, a severely injured Bianca is found by agents of the Titans who were shadowing the quest party off-page. She is brought back to Titan HQ and is convinced to join their crusade against the gods while her friends and family think she's dead. Jump ahead to BotL, instead of Kelli the Empousa, it is a mysterious masked assassin who attacks Percy and Rachel at Goode. The events mostly play out unchanged until Geryon's (1/8)

ranch, where instead of Bianca, it is the ghost of Maria di Angelo who is revealed to be sending Iris messages to Percy about Nico, while also strongly hinting that Bianca's still alive. Jump ahead to Mt St. Helens, Percy fights the assassin again, and during his stint on Ogygia, Percy begins to put two and two together after the assassin demonstrated skills similar to the Hunters. At Antaeus' Arena, the assassin is finally unmasked to reveal a still-alive but scarred Bianca, replacing (2/8)

Ethan Nakamura as the demigod enforcer. Percy is convinced that Bianca is being mind-controlled and goes to Mt Tam to rescue her as well as stop Kronos. However, when he confronts her, Bianca reveals that she's operating of her own free will, feeling vengeful against the gods for robbing her of her life and having pledged her loyalty to her new Titan master. Kronos intends to make Bianca the prophesy kid, promising her the free will she craves so badly as well as promising not to hurt (3/8)

Nico. Going into the Last Olympian, Percy and Nico are both determined to convince Bianca that she's making a mistake, and this time Nico's duplicity is not to simply learn about his mother but to try and summon her spirit to get through to Bianca. At the same time, Kronos gradually starts treating Bianca as less of an ally and more of a tool, and the Titans' actions cause her to have doubts even though she dosen't know what else to do. It all comes to a head in the final battle.(4/8)

Nico returns from the Underworld by himself early, giving Hades an ultimatum to come and fight or hide. Just before the final attack, Kronos sends Bianca to infiltrate Olympus to disable the magic defenses, but Nico arrives to intercept her and make one last bid to save her. They fight, with both begging the other to stand down even as they slug it out. Finally, just as Percy arrives to chase Kronos, the battered siblings' duel ends when Nico gives another ultimatum. He throws down his (5/8)

sword and gives Bianca, now reduced to fear and frustration-induced tears, the choice between perusing her grudge and allowing herself to continue being Kronos’s slave or doing the right thing. Finally able to make a legitimate choice of her own, Bianca chooses to turn her back on the Titans. She still ends up wounded, but unlike Ethan in canon, Nico manages to save his sister while Percy and Kronos have their final battle. After everything ends, Percy petitions for Bianca’s pardon along (6/8)

with the rest of his list, though Bianca turns it down, realizing the harm she almost caused to the person she loved more than anybody else. She is given a reduced sentence in service to her father, and though she does not properly forgive any of the gods that hurt her, she does recognize that the spite and anger she felt would only lead to more death. Nico gets to visit her occasionally, and she starts a road to redemption that Luke never got the chance to take. In HoO, Bianca is (7/8)

more of a background character, but it is she that finds Hazel in Asphodel and alerts Nico to her. Overall, dark!Bianca is an anti-villain who’s affiliation with Kronos is clearly drawn from her pain and grief over the gods’ interference in her life, but her saving grace is her brother. Nico manages to pull her out of the darkness and save her from becoming the same monster Luke became. What do you think? (bear in mind, this is my rough draft) (8/8)

Okay, WOW. Anon, I am actually going to start a petition to make you the new Percy Jackson author because that was such an interesting plot to read.

First of all, I love that you replaced Bianca with Ethan. As interesting as he was in the series, and as much as I loved his character, after reading through your rough draft, I feel like Bianca would have been a much better character to use throughout PJO. Her arc could have been expanded upon and completed thoroughly, and it could have made a lot of sense. Ethan felt more like a representation of "demigods turned to the other side," which I get is the point, but I loved the way you used Bianca because with your plot, her character could have been used so well to properly show how easily the Titan army manipulated kids.

Furthermore, I feel like your plot with Bianca could have been a much better way to use her character throughout the series. From my interpretation, in canon she seemed more like a stand-in tool just to enhance Nico's own character arc and his motives, but your plot for her would have actually given her some kind of foundation and an actual arc for her to go through. You've given her such an interesting character and I think it really provides more justice to what she could have been.

I also love the way that not only did you give her a better arc, but you also enhanced Nico's own arc and the plot, too. Her death in the books seemed more symbolic to him and a turning point in his character, but with her character in your AU, it's both important to Nico and Bianca. You've given her an actual character, and you've set up such an interesting conflict between Nico and Bianca.

Additionally, I love the divide you've created between them. I think that - based on what we know about her in the books - as much as she loves her brother, Bianca also feels very limited with him because of how she's been forced to grow up and be his savior. She understands that he's only a child, though, which I think could also play into her own hatred for the gods - they've not only destroyed her family, but now they're forcing her to take the role of an adult when she's a mere child, too? She was never angry at Nico - she was only ever mad with the gods.

Maybe that's something that Nico also feels bad about, and maybe he tells her about it when they're standing each other down. Maybe she lets him know that she never hated him or felt that he was bringing her down.

Also, I want to add that I adore the way you put them on opposite sides. It sets up such an interesting dynamic to their relationship because here you have two people who love each other so much, but they're on two different sides of a large war. They're both too stubborn to go onto each other's sides, and Nico knows Bianca's only going to get herself into more danger. I just love the potential that has for both of their characters.

I know Percy had a large fear about Nico being another kid to join Kronos' army, so I bet Bianca being on his team would have left Percy incredibly terrified for Nico, too, because he knew how much Nico loved Bianca. Would he have been nervous for Nico's ability to change his mind? Nico knows he'd never join Kronos, but would Percy have known?

And, knowing that Bianca's now on the Kronos side, how would Percy react? Because he felt pretty guilty about her death in TTC, right? Would he feel guilty that she's on the other side now, too? Would he try to reason with her, only to push her further away? I'd love to see how Percy would deal with knowing that Bianca - an important child of the Big Three - would react to her being there. He was already nervous about Nico joining sides, but having Bianca there would have really scared him.

And the part about Bianca finding Hazel instead of Nico? That was mind-blowing. I love everything about that situation because now that introduces Hazel into the narrative of Nico and Bianca's story. My question for you would be how does Hazel's character change now? How does she fit in with Nico and Bianca? Because in Heroes of Olympus she's clearly very insecure about her relationship with Nico and how he views her, but if she actually knew Bianca, how would she feel? Would she feel more left out (knowing that Bianca and Nico have known each other much longer and have a stronger connection with each other)? Would she be distrustful? And how would the three of them adapt to this additional family member? I have high hopes that by the end they would all love each other very much, but I'm just really curious into how Hazel's addition would influence the dynamic of all three.

And, essentially, it all ends into a somewhat win-win situation. Bianca's still living; Nico's got two new sisters; Hazel now has a new family.

I think this is such an interesting concept, and I'd love to read it. If you ever post it anywhere, please do share the link! This was such an intriguing plot to go through and, again, I think this could have been a much better use of Bianca's character.

Thank you so much for sharing it with me.

#WOW #I seriously wish you had a Tumblr because I just know you would post the most interesting takes #anon tag #asks #pjo meta #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #hazel levesque #rick riordan #riordanverse #nico di angelo headcanon #bianca di angelo headcanon #hazel levesque headcanon #riordanverse headcanon #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #hoo

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fanmoose12 · 3 years ago

Text

the devil you know

Сharacters: Hange Zoe, Levi, Moblit Berner, Zeke Yeagar, Armin Arlert

Genres: Action / Drama

Summary: Can you still miss a person, if everything you knew about them was a lie?

Сhapter 4/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Every single night, she was tormented by the same nightmare. Every single night, the same memory replayed behind her closed eyelids. She saw that fateful night, the night when she had decided she couldn’t keep pretending anymore.

It was the night before the great battle, and, as always, Levi fell asleep in her bed, curled around her body, holding on to her almost desperately, as though he was afraid that should he let go even for a second, she’d vanish.

Levi thought that his embrace could keep her with him. Hange wished for it to be the truth.

Getting out of the circle of his arms was a considerable effort, he held her too close, too tight, and Hange… Hange didn’t want to leave that sweet embrace. Levi was wrapped around her like a vice, he was a poison ivy that had its twigs engraved so deep it reached to the very depths of her heart.

Hange had to cut it out, to cut him out. And, by gods, was it an unwanted progress.

But after a few moments of quiet struggling, of silent curses and pants, she slipped out from his embrace and their bed. That small victory was well-earned, but not enjoyed. Hange felt her heart break the moment Levi’s arms were no longer around her. Without him, she felt so cold. With every inch she put between them, the ice that began covering her heart continued growing.

Next, she packed her scarce belongings. She wanted to take more, she couldn’t do it. Everything she’d take back home – her uniform with Wings of Freedom splayed proudly on the back, her heavy notebooks with dozens of notes and sketches done by her beloved assistant, that book Erwin had once given her, the scarf Mike had knitted for her, the flower Levi had gifted her, the very same one she treasured just dearly as the memory of him confessing after the gift had been presented, - all of it was going to be looked at and thoroughly analyzed. By her Marleyan comrades, friends and possible prosecutors.

She could take nothing that could be conceived as dubious, but that jacket, the one that was shared by both of them and still held his scent and warmth— she wasn’t strong enough to leave it behind.

So she put it on, praying for it to give her strength.

A long way home was awaiting her.

And Hange couldn’t leave without giving him, the one man she truly loved, a goodbye kiss.

“I know you won’t,” she whispered against his brow, her fingers caressing his hair with a feather light touch, “but please try to forgive me. It was out of my control, Levi.”

It was his fault too. When Levi came, the ground had been kicked from under her feet. And a simple mission turned into a tragedy.

When she gathered enough strength to leave the room, the hallway was empty. Hange knew it would be, she was familiar with the workings of Survey Corps like the back of her hand. She strolled through the well-known hallways without fear, trailing her hand along the walls.

The Military Headquarters back at Liberio was better built than this building. Even Warriors’ barracks, despite being designed to hold Eldians, were built so much better. Those buildings were sturdier, more technologically equipped, much more comfortable.

But, god damn it, she was going to miss Survey Corps’ headquarters, this shitty building that was situated in the middle of nowhere.

Compared to Marley, everything in Paradise was ancient, outdated, useless. But it didn’t stop her from loving that fucked up little island. It didn’t stop her from loving people that were living there, despite them being branded as monsters by her nation.

She turned the corner, took the stairs, and, at the end of it, just near the exit Hange saw a shadow.

She meant to duck behind the corner, to run and hide, but the form of that shadow was all too familiar, and she was just as familiar to that shadow. Hange had no choice but to stop and surrender to another cruel twist of fate.

“Squad Leader!” Moblit ran up to her, smiling and endearing as always.

Fucking hell, and Hange thought that saying goodbye to Levi would be the hardest task. However, Levi, at least, hadn’t been awake.

“Are you nervous, as well?" he asked, curiously peering into her eyes. Was she nervous? That was an understatement. "Personally, I can’t sleep! I’ve been thinking and thinking, and I even wrote a letter to my Momma, do you remember her?”

Of course, Hange remembered Moblit’s Momma, the soft and caring Mrs. Berner, a far kinder woman than Hange’s Momma was.

“I told her about our mission and how proud I am for participating in it. And… I added a second part, the one that would be sent in case…”

“No.” Hange shook her head resolutely, her hands clenching into fists. No, no, no, she refused to even entertain that foul idea. Impulsively, she took a step forward, circling her arms around her sweet assistant. “No, Moblit,” she repeated, voice muffled by his shirt. If he heard the quiet sniffling, Hange didn’t care. Moblit never minded her eccentricities. “You will survive. You will survive this shit and the next one you will undoubtedly face. You will make your Momma and everyone else around you proud.” You will make me proud. “And you will leave a glorious, happy and long life. You promise me?”

“Squad Leader…”

“Promise me!” she demanded, bordering on desperation.

In that moment, the dream always divided from reality.

In reality, Hange waited until he had given her a promise, and then feigned exhaustion, leaving Moblit to use another exit. But in a dream, Moblit made her stay, coercing her to have a cup of tea with him. And in the candle-light lit mass hall, they met Erwin, then Levi joined their impromptu party, gluing himself to her side and blinking sleepily at everyone who had gathered.

In a dream, Hange never left. She stayed under Moblit’s care, was guided by Erwin’s wisdom, was surrounded by Levi’s love.

And that’s why that dream was a cruel, excruciating nightmare. It showed her things that could never be. It showed her the future she desperately wanted to come true. Escaping from the clutches of that fantasy was hard, painful. And if that was complicated….

Well, waking up in that bed was pure agony.

Every single morning, Hange woke up lost and disoriented, and had to spend a few long moments, making sense of it all.

Her first instinct was to stretch her arms, to yawn and reach out – to warmth and comfort, to loving embrace, husky voice and reluctant kiss. To him. To everything she had lost. To everything she never actually had.

But she was alone in that bed.

There was no Levi, lying next to her, complaining about her morning breath. There was no Squad Leader Hange, no four-eyes , who would smile and start singing in Levi’s ear.

There was only she, a broken, empty shell of a person.

A Marleyan who fell for an Eldian. A war chief that devised weapons for her enemies. A fool with twisted loyalties and convoluted goals.

She betrayed her homeland, she didn’t have a home.

She was abandoned by her fellow countrymen, was rejected by the people closest to her.

But, strangely, as pathetic as she was, as miserable and wretched, she was not alone. Even in her sorry state, despite her vile betrayal, she still had a friend.

He was by all means her enemy, a monster and a devil, and yet he saved her life more times than she could count.

Even now, when her lies had been discovered and her villainy uncovered, he remained by her side, continued to care for her.

If all Eldians were truly as monstrous as she had been told since her birth, then how to make sense if the existence of one extremely brave, inexplicably kind Moblit Berner? Hange, as genius as she was, couldn’t understand him, couldn’t explain why someone as good and bright as him had decided to stick with her.

“Good morning!” he walked into her room with a smile, carrying her breakfast on a plate.

He had been repeating the exact same routine every day for the past month. He had been doing this ever since Erwin had appointed him as her assistant.

In that room, that bed, nostalgia, memories and regrets were impossible to escape.

Hange tried telling Moblit that he didn’t have to this, didn't have to care for her as though she was still his comrade. But Moblit was relentless. And she was too lonely and miserable to cut off the only kind soul that remained loyal to her.

“I managed to get your favorite biscuits this morning,” he continued, moving around the room to put the cutlery down on a table and open the curtains to let the sunshine in. “Almost got in a fight with Sasha because of it.”

Despite herself, Hange snickered. Moblit always had that kind of an effect on her. He possessed the uncanny ability to cheer her up with a simple, but heartfelt and caring gesture.

There was only one other person who was better at it than him. But after everything that happened between them… the hell would freeze sooner than she would hear praise and a comforting word from him.

Waving those sullen thoughts away, Hange stretched her arms and rose from the bed. She followed the sweet aroma of biscuits to the table Moblit had set for her.

“Any updates on Gabi and Falco?”

That was the first question she asked every morning. And every morning, Moblit gave her the same disappointing answer.

“I’m sorry,” he ducked his head solemnly. “We didn’t manage to locate them yet.

Hange expected as much. And yet, the lack of news still troubled her. Where were fierce Gabi and adorable Falco? Were they—

She shook her head, pressing lips together. Of course, they were still alive. They were candidates, the best of all best. Mentally repeating that mantra a couple of times, she forced her mind flow into different direction.

“What’s our plan for today?” she asked through a mouthful of biscuits. “Are we going to work on a new uniform again?”

Working on that project was fun. Having Mobllit as her assistant once again was fun. In the moments, when her brain was too occupied with an idea, she could almost pretend that everything was normal. That she was Squad Leader Hange, working with Executive Officer Moblit on a new project. Sometimes, Hange got so lost in that little game inside her head, she even expected for the door to burst open to let a grumpy Captain inside. But, of course, that couldn't happen.

These distant memories, they were comforting. They reminded her of the rare times in her life when she was truly happy. But the past... was in the past.

“Eh, you see…” Moblit raised a hand to his head, scratching the back of it with an apologizing smile. “Armin asked me to look into something. I was actually wondering if you would like to accompany me. I bet you’re getting sick of spending days in these four walls.”

She was starting to feel like a wilting flower, that was true. It would have been nice to go outside. However…

“Am I even allowed to leave this room?”

Moblit winced. “I’m not really sure about it… But I was assigned to look after you. I think it wouldn’t hurt if you go with me. Besides…” he sat on the chair next to her, looking at her almost pleadingly. Oh, Moblit and his perfect puppy eyes, Hange could never resist them. “I’d like to have your company. And, perhaps, your advice as well…”

“Advice?” Hange frowned. “On what? What is your task about exactly?”

“Don’t know if I can tell you,” nevertheless, Moblit leaned in, lowering his voice to a whisper. “But they found out that one of the volunteers, Yelena, has been conspiring with Eren. They asked me to interrogate the other volunteer.”

“Oh?” that sounded both ominous and intriguing. Hange curled her lips into a grin and raised an eyebrow. “You want me to use my interrogating skills?”

“No!” paling slightly, Moblit frantically lifted his hands, shaking them from side to side. “No reaping out nails, please! No threats of bloody violence! Just… talk with him.”

She almost forgot how easy it was to tease and embarrass Moblit. Oh, how Hange missed him.

“Alright, I’ll do my best to control the violent urges,” she winked at him, laughing at his scandalous face. “And thank you for inviting me. It’s been ages since I saw the world outside that room.”

“There is another thing I have to ask of you...” Moblit cast his eyes down, playing with the sleeve of his coat. “Technically, I’ll be representing Survey Corps, so…”

Oh. Hange shifted her gaze to the wardrobe, where her old uniform was still hanging. That feeling inside her, she couldn’t quite identify it. Was it shame? Or trepidation?

She showed nothing of it to Moblit. As their eyes met, she faced him with an easy smile.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I do wonder if that thing still fits me.”

“It is. It always will.”

The remark was short, it could be read as meaningless. But Moblit’s voice was deep and gravely, full of conviction. Hange tilted her head, stealing a moment to study him more closely. He looked back at her, his hazel eyes honest and kind.

A lump in her throat was thick enough to make it hard to breathe. It brought tears to her eyes. Hange closed them tightly, to keep the tears from falling down.

“I need a moment,” she murmured, facing away from Moblit, “I’ll be ready in five.”

“I’ll be waiting in the hallway,” he said and let her be.

___

Walking through the streets of Sina was both pleasant and excruciating.

Feeling the sun on her cheeks and the wind in her hair after so many days of being confined to a one single room was enjoyable, enough to put a smile on her lips. And Sina, so very different from Liberio, was a lovely city with interesting architecture and narrow clean streets.

But these places were too familiar, the alleyways etched into her mind too deeply. And the uniform… the long green coat fitted her too well, and, at the same time, suffocated her. The shiny Wings of Freedom were burning her even through the clothes.

This proud emblem, it wasn’t hers. She wasn’t worthy of wearing it.

And the looks people had been given her, the awe and pride— fuck, Hange would rather prefer they cursed and flanged stones at her.

“Their smiles make me uncomfortable,” Moblit confessed. “They used to throw shit at us after every expedition. But now that Eren has killed a bunch of people, they suddenly decide that we’re heroes.”

“You always have been heroes.”

You, not we. There was nothing heroic inside of her.

“Remember that tavern?” Moblit’s cheerful voice and excited expression didn’t chase away the shadows completely. But the shadows took a step back, frightened by his light. “We had a glorious fight with MPs there.”

The fond memory brought laughter to her lips. “You almost got your arm broken in that fight.”

Moblit chuckled along with her. “Thanks to you I didn’t. I thought that punch of yours would get that guy obliterated.”

Hange touched her knuckles tenderly. Moblit was right, that was one hell of a punch. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel how the force of the hit had reverberated through her skin, tendons, muscles and down to the bones. Perhaps, that time, she had overdone it. She always had troubles reining in her anger.

“And remember that guy Captain Levi kicked? I see him around from time to time. Because of his broken jaw, he still has trouble speaking clearly.”

Ah, Hange remembered that guy as well. He was red-headed and had an ugly moustache. He also left a nasty bruise on her cheek. Levi’s kick to his jaw was a payback for that.

“Those were the times, huh?” Moblit nudged her, offering a kind smile.

Hange averted her eyes, feeling her lips quiver. Yeah, those were the times. Distant times, now they seemed more like a dream. A dream Hange wouldn’t want to wake up from.

Sensing her discomfort, Moblit steered them to the side, taking their conversation in another direction as well. “Speaking of Captain Levi, I sent him the new uniform. He wrote back that he liked it.”

The uniform she accidentally created with Levi’s size in mind. It was in no way intentional. She thought of Survey Corps’ soldiers when she was making a design. And in her mind, the perfect example of the scout was Levi. She was surprised she still remembered his size. Although, considering how much time she had dedicated to studying his body…

The new uniform was a sudden project, a product of the abundance of free time on her part. She wasn’t going to show it to anyone. Even Moblit found out about it by pure accident, when he stumbled upon her crude drawings. She was surprised he liked it. She was surprised Levi liked it. Did he really, though?

“He actually wrote so?”

“Well, he wrote that it could be useful, and in his words…”

Oh. As high praise as one could get from Levi.

“You write to him?” truthfully, that was another surprise for Hange. She didn’t remember Moblit and Levi have any sort of relationships, especially this close.

“We talk a lot,” Moblit shrugged, looking anywhere but at Hange. She was starting to wonder why, but his next words quickly unveiled the mystery. “Technically, we’re the only adults in Survey Corps, and after you left, we… found that we have a lot in common.”

Well. At least, her betrayal had one good outcome. It gave birth to a new friendship. And destroyed several old ones. Hange winced at the last thought.

“Oh, look where are we!” Moblit once again pulled her out of the abyss with his clear, loud voice. The wonder, added to it, however, seemed a little bit too faked. As smart and sharp as he was, Moblit could never excel at lying and pretending.

Not like she did.

Forcing these thoughts away, Hange followed the direction Moblit was pointing at. She couldn’t help but smile at what came into her sights.

Sina’s pastries. The best bakery in the city. In Hange’s humble opinion, the best bakery in the whole damn world. The one they had back at home, on the corner of the street in Liberio, right next to her apartment, didn’t even compare.

Just looking at the sign made her mouth fill with saliva.

“Moblit,” she grasped at his sleeve, her hold desperate. Her eyes were still trained on that shiny sign made in cursive. “Moblit, I know I’m asking a lot—”

He grinned. “Want me to get you that cherry pie you loved so much?”

Oh god, yes. Right now, Hange wanted it more than anything else.

“I understand it if you can’t. I mean, I’m a prisoner from a foreign country. Isn’t buying pies considered to be treason in this case?”

Moblit chuckled warmly. He looked at her, and his expression was kind and gentle enough to make the saints weep. He curled his hand around her shoulder, and from the place where he touched her, warmth spread through her body. “I wouldn’t mind committing treason for a friend.”

Fuck. Hange felt it once again. Her heart squeezing painfully, her throat constricting, tears welling in her eyes. She had to shut her lids to keep them from falling down her cheeks.

Her eyes still closed, with her voice cracking, she asked, “Would it be weird if I give you a hug right now?”

“Don’t know. Is it weird that I really want that hug?”

Her sob turning into a giggle, Hange surged forward, falling right in Moblit’s waiting arms. He pressed her close, his palm patting her on the back. Hange buried her face in his chest and relaxed against him, inhaling his faint scent of citrus and cinnamon. Sweet and pleasant, just like Moblit.

What was she doing all that time, without him at her side?

Moblit smiled at her as they separated. Hange meant to smile back, but in that exact moment— her stomach gurgled. Loudly.

She cringed.

“So… about that pie?”

“I’m on it,” Moblit promised and darted to the bakery.

___

Perhaps, it was fate. It was destiny, divine intervention, that led her to this moment. To the wooden bench in the park, to the bird’s singing in her ear, to the sweet, heavenly taste in her mouth.

The pie was perfect, so much better than Hange had remembered. It was soft enough to melt in her mouth, leaving a pleasant aftertaste. It was sweet, but not sugary, the cherry toping adding slight bitterness.

Fantastic, the pie was fantastic. If Hange could, she’d stay in that bakery until the end of her days, devouring those phenomenal pastries until she exploded. Ah, what a happy death that would be…

Moblit observed her with an amused grin. “Did they not feed you at all in your Marley?”

“Not like this.” Hange managed, despite her full mouth.

Food in Marley was more diverse than on Paradise. They had more resources, they had a bigger variety of products and ingredients. But Hange was a soldier. She either ate at barracks or she cooked for herself at home. Food, made by army cooks, was nourishing, but lacking in flavor. And the dinners, prepared by her, almost always consisted of something quick and extremely simple.

The only place where Hange could eat to her heart’s content, where food was made out of the best, freshest ingredients and prepared by the most skillful chefs, was the official events, organized by the brass. And as the leader of the research facility, one of the most recognized war chief and the only child of her father, one of the Marleyan’s biggest heroes, Hange was always a welcome guest on these events.

But they were so boring that not even a promise of good food could make her sit until the end of them.

“Well, wait until you try Niccolo’s food. He is a true master.”

“Already did,” her stomach once again gurgled, this time the embarrassing sound was provoked by the memory of Sasha and Connie treating her to some of the maestro’s masterpieces. Sasha certainly was a lucky girl. “I ate so much, I thought I was gonna puke.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” bashfully, Moblit rubbed his neck. “The first time he made food for us, I was eating like the man starved. I was so ashamed, but then I looked around,” he chuckled lowly, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. “And realized I wasn’t the only one.”

“I see you had a lot of fun,” she said, swallowing the bitter taste in her mouth. She wasn’t one of them, and never was. The suddenly appeared sadness was foolish and unwelcome. She had her own friends back home. Perhaps, they still thought about her. Perhaps, they still cared. “And what about that guy you need to interrogate? Is he also an amazing cook?”

“No, he is a soldier, he taught us so much about your technology! He was the one who was in charge of controlling the airship we used to get to Liberio.”

So their new friend was a pilot? And, apparently, a skillful one at that. Navigating through Liberio during all that chaos was certainly a challenge. Hange wondered if she knew him.

“So what is the name of that ace pilot of yours?”

Moblit lifted his chin, something close to pride appearing in his gaze. "He really is amazing. His name is Onyakopon."

Hange's jaw dropped. Her precious pie almost dropped as well. Hadn't she misheard? Onyakopon? The same Onyakopon who had spent almost a year as her understudy? Who taught Hange how to pilot the plane? That Onyakopon?

Could it really be? Could they really meet here, after so many years, on Paradis of all the places? Or was it some other Onyakopon who also happened to be an ace pilot?

"Hange-san?" a worried crease lay between Moblit's eyebrows. "Are the two of you—"

"Don't know," she shrugged, promptly finishing the last of her pie. "Shall we go and find that out?"

Moblit nodded resolutely. Hange felt something like nostalgia stirring up inside her.

___

For a man who was supposedly under a close watch and a possible suspect, Onyakopon had the nicest of accommodations. Much better than Hange's single room.

The house was small, but cozy, surrounded by pretty garden and vast green fields. If one were to ignore the lonely guard who was munching on an apple in the shadow of the tree, the front yard possessed absolutely no flaws.

Hange immediately shared her observation with Moblit, telling it to him in a faint whisper.

"Let's hope Onyakopon isn't a traitor and we won't end up dragging him from this heavenly place," he answered her.

If their Onyakopon was the same Onyakopon Hange knew, they wouldn't need to take the drastic measures. He was a smart, honest and good man. And, judging by Moblit's set expression, he knew that too.

As they approached the house, a man came in their sights. Dark-skinned, tall and handsome, he was reading a book on the porch, a look of complete concentration on his face.

All doubt left her mind. It was the same Onyakopon. The bright, curious young man who wanted to learn from her and who taught her something in return.

At the sound of their footsteps, Onyankopon looked up. And recognized her too, from just one glance. As their eyes met, his grew in size, almost comically. So he didn't know she was there as well. Strange, Hange would have thought he overheard the commotion she had caused on their trip back to Paradis.

But, perhaps, Onyakopon was too focused on piloting the airship and keeping all of them alive.

"Hange?" his voice was no louder than the wind's song. Hange nodded swiftly, having troubles finding her own voice. She wasn't sure it would obey her. "Oh I'll be damned!" Onyakopon jumped to his feet and all but ran to her. He squeezed her elbows, peering into her face in disbelief. "I'll be damned, Hange! I've heard the talks about some Marleyan soldier, but I could never guess that it was you! No one told me that you were captured."

Well, captured might be a strong word to describe what happened to her. Levi didn't capture her, he simply caught her - unaware and unprepared. Hange saw the face that was haunting her dreams and didn't even think of fighting against him.

She thought that Levi came to kill her then. She was almost ready for him to do it, to finish it once and for all. Being killed by the humanity's strongest - was there a greater honor? Being killed by the man you loved so dearly - was there a bigger joy?

Gently, Hange pried Onyakopon's hands off her. "It's a very long story."

"I have—"

"You don't," Moblit took a step forward, partially hiding Hange behind his back. "We need to talk, Onyakopon. I'm sure you've already guessed why."

"Yeah. Your friend here," Onyankopon threw an accusing glare at his guardian who was enjoying the afternoon shade, not disturbed by their conversation. "Already warned me. Alright," he let out a defeated sigh, "Do you guys want tea or coffee? Maybe, some snacks?"

Moblit gave him a tight-lipped smile. "We've already eaten, thank you."

"I— I'll bring some tea anyway."

He disappeared inside the house without another word. Hange and Moblit watched him go, then, when he vanished from their sight, they shared a look.

"He doesn't seem nervous," Hange remarked.

Moblit seemed to be of the same opinion. "He looks rather disappointed. I really hope he is innocent. But..." he shook his head and mumbled, more to himself than Hange, "I was always bad at figuring out liars."

Ouch. If after everything she had been through, Hange still possessed a heart, Moblit's words would have dealt a fatal blow.

Alas... She felt but a small pang. It didn't make her wheeze with pain, only forced to cast her eyes down.

___

Onyakopon returned after a few minutes, carrying a tray with three cups on it. Jerking his head into its direction, he led them to a table on the backyard.

Once they all took their places, heavy silence hanged over them. Onyakopon was the one to break it.

"So, no offence," he tilted his head to the side, his gaze slowly switching between Hange and Moblit. "If this is the official business, then… why Hange is here?"

"It's a long story," Hange said at the same time as Moblit claimed,

"Hange and I have been working together before."

"Wait..." a frown appeared on Onyakopon's face. It was almost immediately taken over by the look of shock. "Are you telling me that the famed Marleyan spy I've been hearing so much about, the one who spent five years on Paradis and almost became the Commander of Survey Corps, is Hange Zoe, one of the brightest minds of Marley?"

"Something like that, yeah," Hange took a cup of tea in her hands, hiding her embarrassment behind it.

"Wow... that's certainly... a lot to take in. I heard so many things about you."

"Nice ones, I hope?"

The corners of Onyakopon's lips slid down. "Not really."

"Ah... Understandable, I guess."

"But if you're the famous betrayer, why are you here? Are you—"

"We've been working together for a long time," Moblit repeated. "I trust Hange's judgement."

"I have an exceptional talent of picking out bullshit. And," Hange grinned, the curl of her lips just this side of being feral. "I'm a master of reaping fingernails out."

Onyakopon promptly chocked on the tea he was drinking. Sending her the most disappointing of his looks, Moblit jumped out from his seat to help the other man to cough it all out. His panicked face did awake a bit of shame in Hange.

"It was a joke," she hurried to assure.

"A very bad one," Moblit grumbled, softly patting Onyakopon on the back.

"I see nothing has changed about you, Hange," after returning his breathing under control, Onyakopon raised his eyes, giving her a joyful smile.

Hange wasn't sure if his words held any truth, personally, she hadn't felt like her happy, curious and driven self from years ago, but, nevertheless, she answered his smile with the one of her own.

"Now, let's talk about you," Moblit returned to his place, sitting down on the opposite side from Onyakopon. His back was straight, his expression relaxed but solemn. He grew, Hange noted absentmindedly. He was no longer that timid, shy man she had met all these years ago. "Do you know what happened with Yelena?"

"I understand that she is in the same boat as I am right now."

"Not quite," Moblit retorted. "We've recently found out that she has been talking with Eren behind our backs."

Onyakopon put the cup down, his hands a little more unsteady than Hange remembered them to be. "I... didn't know about any of this. Do you know what they were discussing?"

"Commander Pixis and the others are attempting to make sense of it as we speak."

"And in the meantime you decided to interrogate me." Onyakopon's demeanor changed, his eyes flashing. "Have I not done enough, Moblit? For you and for the people of Eldia? Haven't we helped you enough? And yet, you still don't trust me. You come here with—" his gaze shifted to Hange, but whatever Onyakopon wanted to say didn't leave his mouth, Moblit's hardened expression stopping him.

"You know how hard it is to earn trust," Moblit spoke calmly. "Especially now. Personally, I don't think that you're involved in Yelena's dealings. But I have to make sure of it. Wouldn't you do the same, if you were in my position?"

"Besides," Hange chimed in, "Even Eren is imprisoned. Do you really blame them for not trusting foreigners?"

Onyakopon took his time before answering. His jaw clenched, as he fixed his gaze on the wooden surface of the table.

"Maybe, you're right," he said at last. At his admission, Moblit relaxed. But Hange knew that Onyakopon wasn't finished yet. "But I risked my life to help get Eren back. Doesn't that count for something?"

"Yelena took part in that mission as well." Moblit reminded.

"I'm not Yelena." Onyankopon harshly retorted.

Moblit scowled. Onyakopon was glaring back at him, hands crossed on his chest. Hange decided it was time to intervene once more.

"Are we thinking of the same Yelena?" she interrupted their staring contest, easing the air around both men. "Tall, blonde and absolutely crazy?"

Not taking his eyes of Onyakopon, Moblit nodded. "She also has a strange obsession with Yeager brothers."

"Ah," yeah, Hange knew her. How could she not? Yelena was... "A lovely girl. Even I get chills from her. I doubt that Pixis would be able to get something out of her."

"That what worries me," Moblit confessed, rubbing his temples. The gesture was familiar to Hange - Moblit always suffered from headaches when under stress. "The Queen is coming back soon. If we don't secure the capital..."

"Historia is coming back?" Hange wasn't aware of it. When she asked Sasha about a little girl that once was called Christa and then grew up to become a Queen, Sasha said that she was also getting ready to become a mother. Was bringing her to the capital a good call then? With everything in such state of disarray?

"It was her decision, not ours," Moblit explained. "When the Queen learned what is going in, she deemed it necessary to intervene."

"Hopefully, the Queen is loved more than Eren Yeager."

Yeah, that would be the best case scenario. For everyone - even Marleyans - involved.

"In these uncertain times..." Moblit hanged his head with a deep, weary sigh. "Hope is all we have. Thank you for your time, Onyakopon. We'll be heading back now."

Having said that, he stood up. Hange meant to follow his suit, but at the last moment, Onyakopon stopped her, catching her sleeve between his fingers.

"About what happened in Liberio," he stiffly began. "Marley destroyed my hometown," Hange solemnly nodded. She was forced to take part in that particular operation. She hated every second of it. "I can't and I won't forgive them for that. But..." his voice softened, his thumb rubbed comforting circles around her pulse point. "Liberio was your home as well. So I know what you're going through."

Taken by surprise, Hange blinked a couple of times, gawking at Onyakopon. She expected anger from him. In the worst case - pity. But he offered her only his understanding. She was grateful for that.

“Goodbye, Onyankopon,” she smiled sweetly.

“Hopefully, that wouldn’t be our last meeting.”

Hange could very well agree on that.

___

When they were back in Sina, the sun was already setting, painting the streets and buildings into shades of orange, red and pink. While walking through the town, Hange was once again reminded of how beautiful it truly was. The abundance of trees and flower bushes, the shiny cobblestone and petite houses added to its charm, making Sina look almost magical.

“Pretty as a picture,” Hange had once called it, during a walk through the town with Levi by her side. Her fascination, that careless mishap almost got her lie uncovered.

“You look like you’re seeing it for the first time, four-eyes,” Levi had thrown that line carelessly, but his had narrowed ever so slightly and his frown had deepened. “Didn’t you say that you have grown up in the city?”

In that moment, Hange had almost started panicking. She could almost see it too – Levi finding out the truth, Levi dragging her to Erwin, Erwin getting everything he could out of her, him, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Nifa, Keiji, Abel, Levi and countless of others feeling disappointed and betrayed. The story would have ended with her standing on the gallows.

Perhaps, this end would have been more merciful. But that day, her joyful, only slightly forced laughter and a meaningless ‘Don’t you know me, Levi? I always have my head up in the clouds?’ had saved her from the early demise. And doomed her to many years of torture, heartache and self-hatred.

“Hey,” a gentle hand on her elbow broke her out of the internal misery. Hange looked up, meeting Moblit’s hazel eyes. “It will take some time until we reach the headquarters. Can we talk in the meanwhile?”

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you wish to talk about?”

“I actually want to ask a question. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but…” Moblit trailed off for a moment, pressing his lips in a line. Hange smiled faintly, she knew that expression too – he always wore it when he was contemplating his next move. As soon as his mind was set, it vanished, the usual kind face returning. “I would like to know why… you came here in the first place.”

That was it? Hange almost exhaled with relief. She thought he was going to ask something truly awful.

“Didn’t I tell you already? Just like Hoover, Leonhart, Braun and Galliard, I was sent to retrieve the Founding Titan.”

“But you didn’t do it. You had countless opportunities to take Eren from us, and you never acted on any of them. So why did you really come here?”

That was… a question more complicated than Hange was ready for. She didn’t know what to tell Moblit, how much she was willing to share. She had never talked about this, not to a single soul. Her comrades and friends from Marley would never understand her anyway. But Moblit wasn’t Marleyan, he didn’t possess the same mentality. Perhaps, he wouldn’t judge her. Hange was counting on that.

Without another second spent on doubt, she began her tale,

“My father was a hero – a soldier, brilliant tactician, an even better politician. He was resolute, fearsome and absolutely merciless to his enemies. No surprise that many considered him to be an ideal Marleyan citizen. And I was his only child. Naturally, everyone expected me to be as brilliant as him. I began my training at the age of five, and by the age of twelve I was already a perfect soldier. However, that’s not who I wanted to be. I wanted to explore the world, to travel to distant lands, but as the child of my father, I had my whole life controlled by him, and then, when he passed away, by the expectations everyone had for me.”

Taking a pause, Hange chanced a look at Moblit, expecting him to be disgusted or annoyed by her whining. She had everything given to her on a plate, a bright future guarantied, and she still yearned for something more. It was pathetic, wasn’t it? She was pathetic. However, Moblit… didn’t seem to share that opinion. At least, his face didn’t show the signs of it. Instead of the outrage Hange had expected to see, she was met with sympathy.

It made the pain in her chest grew tenfold.

Nevertheless, she forced herself to continue.

“I could never decide for myself, my whole life was controlled by my father’s legacy. I wanted to break free of it, by whatever means necessary. So when I heard about the mission to retrieve the Founding Titan, I latched onto that chance, convincing the brass to send me there with the kids. But I’ve arrived earlier than them, and we got separated. And so… I decided to use that time to do what I always wanted. To study and explore.”

It was the most brilliant of her adventures. She loathed being a soldier and having to kill countless enemies of Marley. But there was no war at Paradis. The only enemies were Titans, and as much as Hange felt for their struggle, she managed to convince herself that she was killing them for their own good. That she was freeing them from their never-ending curse.

“No one knew me here, and I could be whoever I wanted to. And I liked being Squad Leader Hange, because Squad Leader Hange was allowed to be as weird and curious as I wanted. People here accepted me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I found the place where I belonged.”

Of course, that wasn’t true, a mere fantasy, a delusion on her part. She was a Marleyan, a child of the man who condemned thousands of Eldians. She had no place in their world. And yet, Hange was happy. It was the bitter truth she was afraid to admit for so long - she loved the persona of Squad Leader Hange. So much more than the persona of the Professor and war engineer, Hange Zoe.

But nothing could last forever. And when the time has come to return to Marley, Hange was devastated. She lost herself in playing her own game.

“That’s it, I guess,” she said, rolling her shoulders. Looking up, she saw they were almost by the stables where they left their horses in the morning. So deep inside her own head, she failed to notice how much time had passed. “I ran away because I was sick of my life back home. And I spent five years pretending to be someone else.”

“Were you really?” Moblit watched her, his gaze inquisitive. “Were you really pretending to be someone else, Hange-san? Or did you finally allow yourself to release your true self?”

That was… a scary statement. And much more loaded than Hange could deal with in that moment.

“I could be wrong, though,” Moblit shot her an innocent smile. Hange cursed under her breath, a true devil, that’s what he was. Getting her to admit to so much of her insecurities, Moblit surely had a talent for it. And to think he asked her to help him with interrogation. He seemed to be pretty adept at it himself.

“Stay here, I’ll bring our horses,” he started walking in the direction of the stables, but at the last moment turned away, and, meeting Hange’s eyes, added, “I’m glad that you took that mission, Hange-san. And I’m glad that I got to meet the real you. All of us are.”

Hange snorted, watching Moblit go. Perhaps, her father was right about something. Devils, all of them were. How else to explain the ease with which they wormed their way into her heart?

Her shoulders dropped as soon as Moblit had disappeared from her view, and she turned to stare at the setting sun. Certainly, it was one hell of a draining conversation.

But as her thoughts were still scattered in disarray, her heart felt so much lighter. She never shared this part of her with anyone, was afraid to admit it even to herself. But now she was glad she had finally done it. Perhaps, she should have done it a long time ago. Her life could have been easier then, the amount of regrets considerably lesser.

She swept her gaze around the plaza Moblit left her at. With the day coming to an end, not a lot of people were there. As far as Hange could see, the only ones still present were a happy mother with a two children, who were feeding the pigeons on the bench at the far side of the plaza, an elderly couple, and—

And a girl that sat at the edge of the fountain. The short stature, slumped shoulders, that luscious long black hair were familiar to the point of setting Hange's heart ablaze.

She couldn't see the face, was afraid to, but even so, Hange denied what her eyes saw. Surely, it was her imagination, her mind conjuring things that weren't there. This girl, she was—

A shadow, fathom. It couldn't be— it couldn't be her. Even the possibility of it was raising the hairs at the back of Hange's neck.

It wasn't Pieck, just a random girl. Hange was wrong, simply seeing things. Those familiar traits belonged to someone else. Pieck wasn't here, in Paradis, Pieck couldn't be—

"Hange?" she jumped, and whirled around so swiftly her head went dizzy. Before her stood Moblit, his eyebrows knitted together worriedly. "Everything alright?"

She exhaled with relief. "Peachy," she answered with a smile she didn't feel. Her eyes shifted from one side of plaza to the other, searching for the figure she had seen. But like all shadows do, she simply vanished.

"I brought our horses," Moblit gestured for her to follow him. Hange did, not looking back even once.

Even so, she felt someone's gaze burning into her back all the way to the headquarters.

___

"Sorry," Moblit stood at the threshold of her room, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I need to report to Zacklay and Pixis."

His expression was nearly apologetic. Hange patted his shoulder, touched by his not so subtle concern. "Stop worrying so much, Mob. Nothing would happen if you leave me for one evening."

Moblit kept frowning, looking as unconvinced as ever. "I'll tell Sasha and Connie to bring you dinner,” he nodded to himself. “And if you need anything, just tell the guard to call for me."

"Alright, alright. Now go!" Hange gave him a forceful push. "And make me proud!"

She didn't get an answer out of him, but she did see a faint blush appear on his cheeks. That was enough for Hange to chuckle victoriously.

Once Moblit had disappeared around the corner, Hange shoved the door closed and leaned against it. It was an exhausting, eventful day. She wanted nothing more than to rest. She headed towards the bed to fulfill that exact goal.

But no sooner than she had seated down, she heard the knock on the door. Albeit quietly, it was repeated three more times.

Sighing, Hange stood up again and walked back to the door. She swung it open, expecting to see Sasha and Connie. She was hoping to get a warm meal inside while gossiping with the two teenagers. A second later, the door stood open. And Hange's throat was closed up.

On the other side of the threshold— there was no Sasha, no Connie. Only Pieck.

And so the shadow finally took form.

Pieck was dressed similarly to her, in the dark green uniform. Her hair was gathered in a low ponytail, a smile was playing on her lips. The subtle differences in her attire only added to the sense of disbelief.

At the sight of her lovely face, all air left Hange's lungs. She desperately tried to take a breath, opening and closing her mouth rapidly. She wasn’t sure for how long she would have continued gaping like a fish fresh out of the water hadn't Pieck taken the matters in her own hands.

"It's been a while, Hange," as always, she spoke in a quiet, sugary sweet voice. Usually it calmed Hange down. Now it was sending shivers down her spine. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Pieck," Hange meant to sound leveled, controlled. But even a single word came out shaky and unsure. "Pieck," she tried again, this time with more success. "What are you doing here?"

Pushing past Hange, Pieck walked inside the room, heavily sliding down on a chair. "Serving my country. Something you have forgotten about."

Pieck stared straight at her, hands folded in her lap, a picture of friendliness and innocence. But the smile Hange always found so endearing, now seemed almost chilling.

"Tell me, Hange, is this the part of your plan? Have you decided to use your old history with these people to destroy them from the inside? Or," Pieck paused, tilting her head to one side. She didn't look angry, or disappointed. If anything, she seemed simply curious. But the atmosphere in the room was tense, air electrified with trepidation. Hange knew Pieck all too well, she knew how dangerous the shifter girl could be. "Have you already forgotten what they did in Liberio, in our city? How they destroyed it? How killed thousands of men, women and children? These monsters almost killed Reiner, Porco," her voice wavered at the names of her dear comrades. But even then, she didn’t drop the unassuming façade. "And do you know what happened to Udo and Zophia? Have you seen what become of them?"

Stunned, Hange could only stare at Pieck. The words left her, her mind unable to come up with anything she could have used to explain herself.

Indifferent to Hange’s internal struggle, Pieck continued.

"Do you even care, Hange? About Marley, about us?"

"Of course, I do." How Pieck could even doubt that? Udo and Zophia, those bright, adorable children Hange couldn't quite imagine them being gone. "Pieck, you misunderstand, I've been captured, I'm not—"

"Don't make me laugh." Pieck interrupted curtly. "You have your own room, you walk freely through the town, you wear their uniform. Is this how they treat all of their prisoners? Awfully kind of them then, considering the monstrosities these devils committed."

"Pieck, listen—"

Pieck didn't want to.

"You always were a strange one, Hange," gracefully, the girl stood up, taking a step closer. With her hands behind her back, she started pacing, circling around Hange. "I could never understand what was going on inside your head. I still can't. But, naively, I thought that I knew you. That after years of fighting side by side, we grew close enough. And after the disaster at Liberio," she picked up a sheet of paper from Hange's desk, gave it a quick once over before disregarding it in favor of focusing her eyes on Hange once more. "I kept looking for you. I was so afraid to find your body under a fallen building or see you with a hole in the head. But you were nowhere to be found. Everyone was worried sick, the brass was livid - the devils from Paradis killed the Warhammer, took our Beast and now our brightest mind was missing as well. And then I remembered what I have seen during the fight. A short man approaching you, the same one who nearly killed Zeke, that Ackerman. I thought he had captured you, I thought you needed saving. Seems like I was wrong about that, huh?”

Even now, Pieck was keeping her calm. Despite the harsh accusations, her voice remained gentle, almost soothing. The smile was still in place, and her head was tilted up, peering into Hange’s eyes.

Hange did everything she could to escape that unsettling gaze.

“I also came to because I needed you,” Pieck continued. “I thought you would help me with my mission.”

Would she? Should she? Hange didn’t know. She knew what Professor Hange Zoe would have done. She knew what Squad Leader Hange would have done.

But what would she do?

“I guess it doesn’t matter. Whether you help us or not, the outcome will be the same. Paradis will fall, Hange. Consider it my only warning. If you wish to witness its demise alongside these devils, I won't stop you. But," without looking at Hange, Pieck laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. "If your decision ever changes, I'll be happy to fight by your side."

After that, Pieck left the room, closing the door softly on her way out. Hange, however, didn’t move, remaining frozen in one place, too stunned to follow after Pieck and demand a more thorough explanation.

However... what was there to explain? Paradis will fall. Plain and simple.

Right now, Hange couldn't quite believe it, although she was supposed to expect it. What could possibly happen to that little island after Eren's desperate rampage? But even before that, Paradis was already doomed. The events that transpired at Shiganshina proved to the outside world just how dangerous the Eldians could be. And Shiganshina was simply a plant that had grown out of the seed of Grisha Yeager's crimes.

There was no hope for Paradis. There never was.

Paradis will fall.

What could she do to save it? Could she do something, anything at all? Could she help them, expose her nation's plans? Could she betray her motherland like that? If she shared the truth with people of Paradis, would they even believe her? Would her people forgive her?

Hange didn't know. Her mind was in frenzy, her thoughts flying from one horrible outcome to the other. It was in that catatonic state that Sasha and Connie found her.

"Hange-san? Is everything alright?"

Hange looked up, meeting their bewildered gazes. In that moment she realized - she didn't want these kids to die. She didn't want for them to suffer any more than they've already done. And the others - Moblit, Levi - Hange couldn't bear the thought of them in harm. But—

She didn't want for her fellow countrymen to die as well.

Fuck. Why was everything so hard these days, why it was so damn complicated? When would her heart stop tearing into two pieces? Why was everything out of her control?

It was always an issue of hers, the lack of control. This time was no different. Caught between crossfires, Hange didn't know which side to choose. Perhaps then... she shouldn't choose at all.

Perhaps, she should take the back seat. Let everything transpire the way it was supposed to be. Let them fight, let someone win.

And so, with a heavy heart and troubled consciousness, Hange came to a decision. She would not alert Paradis about the threat hanging over them. She would not help Marley in their fight.

But there was another side to all of this. Another warning, another trouble that couldn’t be ignored.

There was a danger of Marley invasion, but equally disturbing was the events transpiring inside the Walls. Something was brewing, a storm ready to swipe everyone in its path. And Hange had a nasty feeling that at the center of it, two figures stood – Yeager brothers.

Nothing could be done about Eren, Hange had doubts that even his closest friends had a single clue of what was going inside the boy’s head, what dangerous ideas were forming there. But Zeke, Hange knew how to deal with Zeke. She also knew someone who could deal with him in the most efficient way.

She didn’t know what Zeke was planning. But she was confident that Levi would be able to find out.

She just needed to give him a little push.

“Sasha,” Hange smiled at the girl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “If you would be so kind, tell Moblit to visit me before he retires for the night.”

Moblit had mentioned that he was corresponding with Levi. The time has come to use this detail to her and the world’s advantage.

The world as they knew was changing, perhaps, it was already at the brink of collapse, horrible destruction. What did Moblit say? In these uncertain times, hope is all we have?

In that case, her only hope was Levi.

#does someone still remember that fic? i for sure had almost forgotten about it jdfsdkhgsjgh #levihan

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symptoms-syndrome · 4 years ago

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Alters and Race in White-Bodied Systems

I said I was going to write something up, so I’m going to try. I will try to make this as easily understandable as possible, so please let me know if parts are unclear. This will be a little long because it’s a complex topic, but I hope you try to read it if you can. I’ve broken things up into chunks and made the text large for each header so that it is more ADHD-friendly, and tried to use layman’s terms whenever possible.

Things I’m going to be talking about in this post will be:

What is race?

What are the types of racial oppression?

How do people in DID communities/spaces perpetuate racism?

How can I check myself and avoid perpetuating racism?

Final notes

When I can, I will link to sources. For transparency, I am a nonblack/indigenous, Korean-American mixed race person with diagnosed DID. When I use the term “DID” in this post I am referring to both DID and OSDD.

#1: What is Race?

Race is a social construct, created by white people. It is not based in any science, as science has disproven there are significant genetic markers that differ between different races. “Whiteness,“ especially, has been an idea that has changed wildly over time. (A good book to read about this is called How The Irish Became White.)

Socially, people are divided along lines of race, which are blurry at best. Things like “the one drop rule“ make it so that no person of color (POC, a noun not an adjective) can fully claim whiteness. Whiteness is primarily defined by “not being a POC.”

‘Whiteness,’ like ‘colour' and ‘Blackness,' are essentially social constructs applied to human beings rather than veritable truths that have universal validity. The power of Whiteness, however, is manifested by the ways in which racialized Whiteness becomes transformed into social, political, economic, and cultural behaviour. White culture, norms, and values in all these areas become normative natural. They become the standard against which all other cultures, groups, and individuals are measured and usually found to be inferior (Henry & Tator, 2006, p. 46-47).

(In layman’s terms: Whiteness is created by society, and is now defined as “normal” and “default,” while actively oppressing people of color. People of color, by not being white, are seen as inferior. It’s a catch 22 of not being enough, and when you ARE enough, you’re not considered a person of color anymore, which is exactly what happened to the Irish.)

#2: What is Racial Oppression?

“Oppression” is a word a lot of folks throw around these days, and is commonly defined by what are called the “four Is of oppression.” These four Is are:

Internalized: This is oppression instilled in POC. Thoughts like “if I am more like my white peers, I will be more respected,” “I’m not like those people of color,” and pitting different POC against each other are all examples of internalized racism.

Interpersonal: This is oppression that is between individuals, and the most recognized form of racism. Interpersonal racism can look like calling people slurs, expecting POC to conform to stereotypes, etc.

Institutional: This is oppression built into the society and systems we live in. It can look like schools with higher percentages of POC getting less funding, differing descriptions for the same behavior (hyperactive white children being described as “outgoing” while a child of color is described as “disruptive”,) income inequality, and police brutality.

Ideological: Probably the hardest for people to recognize, ideological racism exists within our very thought processes. White people are told, directly and indirectly, that they are harder working, more deserving, more capable, more advanced, and so on. The inverse is applied to POC. A good example of this is the idea of “welfare queens,” or the idea that someone only got to where they are “by playing the race card.”

All of these interact with each other. Ideological racism is the basis of institutional racism, institutional racism is enforced by interpersonal racism, and progress towards liberation is inhibited by internalized racism, which is instilled in us by all of the above. Oftentimes, these are perpetuated in ways white folks don’t even notice or intend. Offhand comments and other microaggressions (more about those here, in a 2 minute video) can reinforce racism in ways that seem small or insignificant.

Now, onto the part folks are most likely here for:

#3: How Does This Relate to DID?

In DID, alters form for all sorts of reasons, and can look like anything. From demons to angels, fictional characters to animals or objects, the ways parts form can tell someone a lot about that parts beliefs, particularly when they differ from the body. In The Haunted Self, an example is given of a part that believes they are Superman because they cannot be hurt.

When race is involved with this, ideological biases come into play. Though you may not consciously make the decision to have an alter appear a certain way, ultimately, an alter is created by your brain and your brain alone (apart from, of course, the society that your brain/body exist in.) When you are a white person, and your brain creates an alter that appears to be of color, there is a reason. Even “positive” reasons can carry racism, such as splitting an Asian-appearing alter to help with schoolwork. Oftentimes, even without knowing, that reason is due to biases regarding race.

When an alter is created, it does not magically gain the experiences of someone who would actually live in that body. An alter that appears to be a POC has no idea what it’s actually like to be a POC, has no experience with racism, and does not experience any racism. Any racial experiences they may seem to carry with them are a white person’s perception of them, it’s a lot like claiming you know a show because you watched it through a neighbor’s window.

#4: How Can I Check Myself?

So, how do you never do anything racist ever again?

I’m sorry to say, but it just isn’t possible to be 100% non-racist. Even POC cannot be 100% non-racist or anti-racist, because we unfortunately live in a society that is constantly upholding white supremacy and white supremacist beliefs.

However, the next best step is being an anti-racist! Checking yourself for biases you’re upholding or racism you’re perpetuating is an important first step. This is an often uncomfortable and confronting process, and one that never has an end, but an important one. There are a LOT of ways you can do this, but I’ll just list a few that are relevant to DID.

Familiarize yourself with common stereotypes.

The easiest way to find where your internalized biases are with alters that appear to be a different race is familiarizing yourself with common stereotypes and ideas that our society has about POC. These are often tied to things like violence, hypersexualization, drug use, and other negative attributes, but can also be things that on the surface appear to be positive, such as being studious, people-pleasing, or frugal. Regardless of whether the stereotype seems positive or negative, either way it’s still perpetuating racism.

Ask yourself: Is my POC-appearing alter more sexual than others? Are they aggressive? Is my POC-appearing alter a monster (such as a demon or a zombie,) or otherwise less human, like an animal?

Keep an eye on your language

Obviously, if you follow my blog, I don’t support talking negatively about my parts. But in addition to this, when race is involved, it’s even more important. Words like “feral,” “aggressive,“ “sassy,” “soft,” and others can have a more racist impact when used on POC than when used on white folks. Additionally, your POC-appearing alter is not an actual person of color, so avoiding language like “my Asian alter” and replacing it with (when race is relevant,) “my alter that appears Asian” can be also a helpful change. Lastly, and I would hope this goes without saying, but language like AAVE, slurs, and “broken” English are not yours to use if you have a white body. If you wouldn’t let a white person say it, you should not let an alter in a white body say it.

Ask yourself: Would I use this word if this alter appeared white? If I saw another white person talking like this, would I be okay with that?

Avoid cultural appropriation, be aware of culture

A lot of this may seem obvious, such as not wearing native regalia if you are not native, but other aspects of cultural appropriation may not be as obvious. Asian names, for example, are both incredibly personal, important, and significant in Asian culture, and stigmatized against in white society. I don’t know of any Asian folks who do not have a white name they used in school because teachers literally refuse to try and learn our real names. The issue of cultural appropriation is, at its core, that white people are treated differently for doing the same things that POC do, even when it’s originally something that POC created.

Ask yourself: Would someone of x race be treated differently from me doing this? Is this something that POC have been told they cannot do, even though I can?

#5: Final Notes

As I say whenever I do equity workshops, learning does not end here. I encourage you, if possible, to do more research on your own about racial equity! Clicking the links I’ve included throughout my writing would be a good start, and those links may lead you to others. Getting involved with local activism groups, meeting diverse groups of people with varying ideas, and reading would also be excellent ways to further your learning at your own pace.

Reading this may have made you uncomfortable. You might’ve read something and cringed, thinking to yourself “oh no, I do/did that!” in which case, forgive yourself. Learning is always a process, and no one is ever perfect. As long as you keep in mind what you’ve learned going forward, you are not a bad person for having done something racist in the past. We live in a society that at best doesn’t punish, and at worst rewards upholding the racist beliefs we all live with. Discomfort is a part of learning, and if you were uncomfortable and kept reading, I commend you. That’s hard.

This is all written by one person, with one experience and one life story. You may at some point in time talk to someone with an entirely different experience who may say totally different things than me. Use your best judgement.

If you read all the way through and found something useful, and you can spare any change, my cashapp is $beepollen98. Money would be used to prepare for my upcoming gender surgery! Obviously no pressure, I hope you learned something and feel a little more educated, and maybe even enjoyed reading!

As always, my DMs and asks are open if you found anything confusing, and/or have suggestions/questions.

#actuallydid #actuallyosdd #did/osdd #dissociative identity disorder #other specified dissociative disorder #actuallydissociative #did #osdd #race and DID

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