#vertin and Schneider will be the death of me

[carrotcouple]

In a world where time is consumed like a feast at the table and gone within seconds, Vertin is the only constant.

She travels through tomorrows, yesterdays and eternities. The world bleeds time like watercolor on a canvas.

She is the ink that gives it shape.

She likes to think she has her constants. Like Regulus. She has to think that way, or time will consume her. She's not ready to lose her mind yet.

And yet as time drips through the gaps between her fingers, there is a real constant.

One with curly black hair.

She smells like oranges, smiles like she knows a secret no one else does, holds a gun like it's her only friend.

Sometimes Vertin meets her when she's just a child, running around barefoot with oranges held in her skirt. Sometimes Vertin holds her bleeding in her arms, red pulsing out of the gaping flesh pressed against her fingers. Sometimes Vertin tucks Celosia flowers into her curls and doesn't say a word as she smiles in the sun.

"Don't forget me, my Lord,"

A one sided promise.

Vertin is cursed to remember her always.

She lies in her empty suitcase, thinking of the people who try to be her constants and remembers the girl who left even though she became her only constant.

It pours. Raindrops rush towards the sky as the world smudges out of focus in a myriad of colors.

Vertin quietly watches time go from within her suitcase, a red feather in her hand.

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

Chapter 6 checkup (The text on Vertin says "Alive but gay" btw)

Inspo (also spoilers for Madoka Magica and Ninjago lmao):

(Fyi, I didn't know how to do the gray out thing so the black text is supposed to stand in for that)

Up to date version of this image with chapter 7 spoilers below the cut

[teamzacian]

Call me a degenerate but I cannot get the idea for a Hetalia x Reverse: 1999 crossover angsty one shot out of my head.

Specifically when Vertin goes to raid The Walden and runs into a 1920s’ America and then when shit hits the fan we see the effect of the stock market crash in real time.

Then he and Forget Me Not have a stand-off or some shit while Vertin and Schneider just watch. Arcana’s there too idk.

[like-red-lads]

I like how the game shows us that Schneider -in her death; has become a permanent mark in just not Vertin but also Sonetto's life. The different way they grief her death. Vertin confront their enemies and spat out her rage. Sonetto demands justice in the court (dikke would approve), not just for Schneider but her whole family (it made me wonder what schneider would say if she saw this scene maybe something like, "the way you defend my family would move even my stone cold heart, old woman")

And another thing i would like to point out,

Sonetto!! Consider her!! As a friend!!

They hadn't met for long and they hadn't get on the best foot but i think they could have had developed a strong bond given time

Bluepoch know they would be unstoppable as a trio

[stari-hun]

I love how we all agree Sonetto needs to lose her mind towards the Foundation.

So let me put my headcanon on what’ll be over out there! Sonetto is a very upright and moral character, she genuinely struggles with having to do things that are against the rules she lives by. Coughs she’s autistic (which most Arcanists are pretty heavily coded as). I think that her character development and the event that ultimately makes her get Insight 2 is gonna be learning about Constantine’s involvement with the death of her and Vertin’s friends along with Schneider’s asylum request being denied from the Foundation.

I genuinely think that the time away from each other has caused a rift between Sonetto and Vertin, and Vertin can’t feasibly risk her safety and position by telling Sonetto what Constantine did. But it’s not something everyone can hide from her forever. I think one day Sonetto is gonna find out while her and Vertin are cut off from contact to the Foundation and Sonetto is gonna have a breakdown realizing everything she knew is wrong.

[hammerbonk]

Reverse: 1999 Headcanons But They Progressively Get More Unhinged

Vertin

Never stopped collected pebbles. If they catch her eye and there’s nobody around, she puts them in her pocket for her hidden stash somewhere in the suitcase

I am a Vertin with freckles truther‼️

Does painting/photography in her free time

Has a really good death metal screaming voice. Hear me out guys

Frequently goes mute if she’s overwhelmed

Sonetto

Sleeper build. I have no good explanation for this

If she had access to the internet, she probably would have looked up ‘girls kissing’ at some point

Has loads of unfinished poetry stashed somewhere

Is really good with words as a result of this. She could make Vertin combust if she wanted to (but i think this actually happens in one of her voicelines iirc?? 💀)

Regulus

Orphaned at a young age - The apple basically raised her

The haver of dimples

Genuinely believes that babies come from storks

She starts levitating when she smells food cooking like a cartoon character

Matilda

If she was given the opportunity to, she would main Princess Peach in SSBU and Mario Kart

Literally goes ‘snoooork mimimimi’ when she sleeps

Cannot lie to save her life. Absolutely dogshit liar

Schneider

Her footsteps are dead silent. She unintentionally (usually) jumpscares people all the time

Learnt her rizz from Tennant. It makes no sense ik but itd be funny if those two ever interacted at some point

Has a few moles here and there on her body

[ihaveforgortoomany]

Time spent and Schneider: more parallels to The Great Gatsby (story spoilers for everything before 1.9)

Again for a character with very little screentime, around 2 Books and less than 24 hours I seem to have alot to say on her and her impact on the narrative as a whole.

While Books 1 and 2 are set in the 1920s Jazz Age, more specifically I think it is set in the eyes of Scot Fitzgerald's view of the 1920s Jazz Age, focused on the hedonism personified in the nature of the Storm being manifested as gold and money replacing food. (While In Our Time was written by Hemingway, I have never read so I cannot fully explore that theme).

So.

Heres me talking about the failure of communication and relationships through the fickle nature of time and the time spent with others, featuring Schneider.

(Have a Vertin nui)

Gatsby and relationships

One of the core themes of the Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald is the failure of language to communicate meaning: what do I mean? What I mean is that all of the relationships in Gatsby ultimately fail or remain broken is because of the lack of communication, the ability to understand of empathise with others, keeping a barrier to truth and honesty under facades and lies.

For the sake of keeping this linked to R1999 I will just discuss the central couple Daisy and Gatsby. Not only does the relationship fail due to societal standards and the myth of the American Dream, at its core this is a tragic love story about two people who truly did not know each other in the slightest. Gatsby's true name was James Gatz, despite begging Daisy to be his alone, it is hypocritcial for him to demand fidelty depsite his own history of sleeping around. While the Book does spend alot of time looking at Daisy and Gatsby, to say these two innately knew each other is false, they met under Gatsby's facade of being from a rich background and had only knew each other for a few weeks and days before Gatsby went to war. Yet this was enough for Gatsby to commit the rest of his life to becoming someone Daisy would love and reunite with again, even if it was doomed to fail.

Reverse 1999 and time

So how does this relate to R1999? Ofc the theme of the game surrounds time, the cruelty of time being reversed and erasing people into non-existence but I would like to speculate that the game explores human connection as well.

For example, the Uluru event exploring how both Ezra and Spathodea try to overcome the differences and prejudices between arcanists and humans to work towards a shared goal and ultimately succeed, the stadium becoming a symbol of the joint efforts of arcanists and humans.

For Schneider, the time spent with her is few and far between, as the player and viewing Vertin we pick apart the scarce interactions and cling to the fragments her existence has left behind. We can research her background, the people and books and movies she was inspired by but truly we cannot understand her fully as a person. Regardless that does not change that fact that meeting her had an impact on both the player and Vertin and shaped the narrative, that connection with her even if it lasted less than 24 hours will carry on long after she is reversed.

This mirrors how in Gatsby, while the text is about him, his failed relationship with Daisy and the mystery about his identity we cannot fully understand him as a person with the fickle nature of time and his death. Time even if it isn't reversing into different eras and periods does often rob us of understanding each other, in reality someone like Vertin being born in the 1990s and Schneider in the 1920s would have likely never met had it not been for the Storm.

Does that mean meeting her was futile if she was a dead women walking? No. R1999 seems to hammer home that all time is important, and that we should value it no matter how long or short it maybe and ultimately carry forward. Even if Rayashki is gone, its values carry on in those who remain, even if Schneider and countless others who have disappeared in the Storm are gone, their existence still carries on in the people who remember them.

[sillycoffeewizard]

hi everyone!!

some of you may have already seen this, but I'm very much admired and touched and saddened at the same time by these voice lines from Schneider. she addresses Vertin so wonderfully...let it be here

please bring her back. please let her be alive. let's resurrect her and create a better life for her? i want to walk with her in the orange tree garden. i want to be able to avoid her death. i want her to never be in pain

I have a headcanon: Schneider has been living in Vertin's suitcase for quite some time now, and the timekeeper is used to Schneider using her gun for some reason or no reason at all. however, Schneider still asks Vertin before she shoots if she can do it and if Vertin would be startled by the sudden loud noises. i think Vertin would answer her with something like "it's ok"

OOOOOOOO I think Vertin likes to stroke Schneider's hair or touch her face and hands. and they also like to hold hands together!! and when Schneider's hands are cold, Vertin gently takes them and warms them. and also Schneider often kisses Vertin's hands, her wrists and fingers, each of them in turn

just a very sweet and touching flirt :)

I think Schneider would definitely put some feathers on Vertin's hat. or Vertin would do it herself secretly, but wouldn't tell Schneider because she was embarrassed and she just hoped Schneider would notice it herself. of course, Schneider would notice it right away

"what a good lord"

I'LL BE HONEST, I REALLY WISH SHE'D CALL ME THAT

I think Vertin gets very embarrassed when Schneider says it and she still can't get used to the nickname, maybe she doesn't know how to react and lowers her gaze or hides her face behind her hat or looks away. maybe she would like to call Schneider something special too, but she doesn't know what romantic nickname to come up with because she has no experience with it. but Schneider likes it when the timekeeper just calls her name in her quiet and calm voice. and then they kiss

HELLO???? DO I NEED TO SAY ANYTHING HERE? CAUSE I TURNED INTO A PUDDLE AND I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO SAY

In any case, I think Schneider would have respected Vertin's feelings and her comfort. it's unlikely she would have done anything without her consent

[the-blossica-fan]

Greetings!

I offer the possessed! Vertin AU (inspired by @cheemken 's AU and ideas on Twitter)

Arcana already wants Vertin for some reason so this post 1.9 is an AU that somehow Vertin is infected during that final battle and slowly loses to Arcana.

Kinda the Manus infected Vertin possession by Arcana where she slowly infects Vertin, like the subtle infection where only people like TF, Madam Z, Sonetto and probably Mesmer Jr and Matilda notice personality changes in Vertin until right in the middle of Foundation Headquarters all hell breaks loose. Maybe a critical point with Constantine bringing up the Breakaway Incident that finally sends Vertin over the edge.

Consider an all out battle with suitcase and co. Plus the threat of a higher up using the Scorching Heart Incantation to just eliminate Vertin as she becomes the greatest threat to the Foundation.

(Vertin gets the Manus drip ofc ofc)

Outcome? Up to you.

(I really can go really angsty with this, like Sonetto getting injured by Vertin probably will send her over the edge)

But again up to you 👍

Bites you, hard.

Comrade, what the fuck is this? (Starts thinking about the outcome)

You know me, lover of Slight angst and hurt/comfort.

On the POSITIVE side, like the good ending, Vertin is able to get out of Arcana's possession. After the whole fight against everyone in the suitcase - final boss style, Vertin's connection with Arcana breaks because Arcana wants it to. Much like with Schneider, after having destroyed so much, injured so many people and ruined everything for her and the others, she is released.

There's Sonetto lying on the floor, holding the wounds caused by Vertin's arcane skills given by Arcana, deep wounds I must add. There's Mesmer Jr in a corner, unable to participate because she doesn't trust her Arcane ability and then there's Matilda, unconscious maybe alive maybe dead, the reason why Sonetto is still alive is her.

And there's The Foundation pointing their guns at Vertin, there's Madam Z unable to do anything, there's Tooth Fairy with a face worse than simple pain. Everyone has no idea what to do, then, she gets taken by the Foundation.

The people in the suitcase are being taken care of, Team Timekeeper no longer exists because there is no Timekeeper, they become soldiers of different branches of the foundation. There's a couple of dead bodies in those. Those who tried to get close to Vertin to stop her never made it too far, the healers are doing their best to bring them back, healing the wounded and treating the traumatized.

It's a mess, really. And Vertin is sealed until they're able to take care of Arcana, and maybe, she might not be released.

But it's the good ending, because she's alive and despite what has happened, there's still a silver chance to repair what has been broken, to severe that connection with Arcana.

And perhaps the deaths of her close friends, Matilda who gave her life away (we all know that if she had the chance to save Sonetto she would jump), she would feel insanely guilty.

As for the bad ending, however... Not a lot get the privilege to live. Vertin doesn't go back because she's Arcana's priced pawn, and she needs her for more moves. So they're gone, most of them either way. The British branch of the foundation in shambles, those who managed to survive are trying to save Vertin. It's too late though, Vertin will never be the same as long as Arcana has her claws around her.

It's the end.

[definesanity]

A Beautiful Song

Voyager was a being ('A girl', she writes) that was not one for many words.

Voyager's handwriting was beautiful: perfectly cursive, yet Vertin did not see much, as it was direct and to the point:

'May I visit?'

The 'Your room' went unsaid; many Arcanists wonder what secrets lie in the illusive Timekeeper's room but, to either amazement or disappointment, it was just that: a room. Stacked documents, here and there, a bed that was yet to be made due to Vertin's sudden bolt out of the room and into the day; and now, a new addition, albeit one Vertin thinks is temporary.

Voyager stood politely, hands clasped in their front, the galaxies upon her stockings and dress shimmering in the gentle light of the room.

Vertin nodded at her. The being from beyond the stars preferred the silence, and Vertin respected it.

Voyager smiled back, before she started to play her violin. It's a familiar song, one Vertin has heard many times. Hearing it in the middle of the night was certainly a surprise, however.

She looked up the songs found on the Voayger spacecrafts, and this one was Greensleeves, a love song from the Tudor period, or thereabouts.

People oft believe it to be related to Henry VIII and his second wife, Anne Boleyn. However, the composition of the original piece was one of Italian origin, that only reached England after Henry's death, which would put it around the time of either Edward VI, Mary I or, most popularly, Elizabeth I.

Nevertheless, it is still associated with Henry VIII due to its themes around the singer wishing for their love to no longer 'cast them aside discourteously'; which is ironic, in the end, due to it being Henry who cast Anne aside in favour of Jane Seymour, leaving Anne to be beheaded for her crimes of adultery, incest and, worst of all, treason against the King of England.

Which, in retrospection, now has Vertin pondering: Did Voyager choose this song for a specific reason?

Voyager played the songs found, or even beyond, the Golden Records on the Voyager I and Voyager II spacecrafts. By that logic, she might have researched it, or guessed the meaning, behind each and every song.

Love was a foreign concept to the Timekeeper. Romantic love, she should specify.

She has experienced parental love from Ms. Tooth Fairy, her treating Vertin like a child. Granted, she did that to every child in the Foundation, but Vertin always felt she was focused more on by the dentist, perhaps out of a lighthearted exasperation on the Toothfairy collector's side. Likewise, Eternity doted on Vertin, treating her as a granddaughter, or something to the effect.

She has experienced the love of both a big and a little sister. Lilya treated Vertin like a younger sibling, with the Russian ace inviting Vertin to ride on the back of her Su-01ве, the two spending free afternoons just flying around The Wilderness.

The little sister is many, one being Mondlicht. The young huntress was grateful for the help the Timekeeper had given her to help defend against the big bad wolves. Recently, the girl had taken to trying to sleep for more than a few hours, Vertin often being the one to place a blanket over the German hunter.

The love of a friend, too; the likes of Horropedia, whom Vertin had since enjoyed the company of. He's a little eccentric, at times, but that adds to his charm. The two watch horror movies together, Horropedia explaining little parts of the movie, and Vertin listening.

The love of a... partner, however...

Schneider was a whirlwind. One that, with her sister and many good friends, was swept away by The Storm. Vertin believes that, in the short time they spent together, the love between two people was there.

Vertin did not know where to place Voyager. Listening again, she could hear the lyrics inside her head:

"You could not wish for anything,

Yet you still had it readily.

Sweet music still I play and sing;

But yet you will not love me..."

Voyager's smile wavered, looking at Vertin with a strange look in her eyes. She appeared... sad.

Did her love not return the same affection...?

Voyager stopped playing, letting go of her violin slowly, it floating and still playing Greensleeves.

The traveller of space gazed at the traveller of time.

A smile danced on the former's lips, that soon gently joined with the latter's lips.

Vertin had never been to space, but was fascinated by it. Yet, she was able to tell that Voyager tasted like star dust.

Vertin had drunk tea before this, but Voyager could still taste the true taste of the Timekeeper's lips.

Voyager let go of the lips of Vertin, the smile now unwavering, eyes glittering like the stars. She had no need for air, and were it not for Vertin's human lungs, she would have continued the caress of their lips forevermore.

Vertin blinked. "Ah."

"Hehe." Voyager giggled, a melodic sound.

With another blink, Vertin then came to a late revelation: It was she who was the Lady Greensleeves.

"...But... why...?" Vertin could never see herself in a light of good, but Voyager could.

"Shh..." she hushed, placing a finger over Vertin's lips, and one over her own.

Vertin faintly heard the violin stopping and playing a new song, but she was still dazed from everything.

'I don't understand,' she thought.

'Do not, then.' a gentle voice whispered back.

'But why?' she questioned.

'Should a reason exist?' the voice questioned back.

'...Am I loved?' she asked the Void.

'Yes. By everyone. Us. Me.' the Void answered back.

Voyager was a mysterious girl of a few words. Outwardly, of course.

Internally? An inner peace of voices, just waiting its chance and moment to be heard...

And the opportunity arrived with the girl with the top hat and beautiful freckles.

Distantly, Voyager heard the chorus:

"Greensleeves was all my joy,

Greensleeves was my delight;

Greensleeves, my heart of gold:

And who but my Lady Greensleeves?"

And vividly, Vertin heard The Chorus.

'Greensleeves, you are my joy,

Greensleeves, you are my delight;

Greensleeves, with a heart of gold:

I am glad to be yours, my Lady Greensleeves.'

[renegadessys]

sorry i'm going insane. the post i just reblogged is making me fucking crazy. the symbolism. the fact that druvis is the only person seated next to vertin, potentially foreshadowing the events of chapter 4 where she is the catalyst for so much. schneider looking at vertin but not being next to her. sonetto moving to comfort sotheby indicating her slowly developing desire to connect more with the outside world where before she would have sat quietly with vertin the whole time. vertin sitting alone. the spacing between people.

and then fucking!!! schneider sitting with her sister. comforting her. NOT seeking comfort even though her sister is older. one of marian's last acts is to PRAY and instead of praying with her or indicating that she even feels a need to, she comforts her. schneider's whole existence seems to have been built around self reliance - she doesn't feel like she can rely on god like her family does, clearly she doesn't think she can rely on marian even if we don't know whether that's because she doesn't want to let herself or because she doesn't think marian can comfort her or because she doesn't think she NEEDS comfort, she runs a fucking MAFIA!!!! marian doesn't seem to really have the same awareness of what schneider does so her family can't be involved, schneider is doing this on her own, if she can't believe in god she can at least believe in herself, her own ability to take care of herself and her people even if whatever god may exist will not take care of them. she has faith in herself but not in god. what does that say about her? what does it say about her family and her history that she would rather shoulder the pain of what's happening to her alone the entire time than receive comfort from anyone, even her older sister!!!!! how old is she!!!!!! there are references to her being multiple ages but for all of that marian looks like she's maybe 18 or 19, old enough to be considered ready for some things but not old enough to be confident. schneider looks younger than vertin. yeah she DRESSES older but when you run a mafia you kind of fucking have to, when you're tiny and a girl in the fucking 1920s to get any kind of credibility you have to dress grown up. what if she's like fucking 14 or something!!!!! she's playing grown up games and running stuff and getting shot and bleeding to death and DYING in the storm and flirting with vertin. what if she does that to feel grown up. yes i think she genuinely likes her i would never deny that i ship them so hard but!!!! she honestly comes off like she's acting older than she is. they're fucking BABIES. even if you go with the idea that schneider is like 18 that's still insanely young to be doing what she's doing. girl you are a TEENAGER she shouldn't even be at the club she should be at SCHOOL !!!!!! but of course in the 20s as a poor girl getting any kind of productive education is still extraordinarily difficult. how much time has she actually spent doing normal teenager things. even if she's 18 she still runs a fucking mafia, that doesn't happen overnight, she had to WORK to get to that point. and how much does her family even know!!! like i said it seems like marian doesn't know much of anything about what's going on. i've interpreted what happens as forget me not taking her from whatever normal life she had to hold something over schneider. she is normal!!! of course schneider can't rely on her for comfort!!! she's NORMAL!!!! and our girl in red is NOT!!!!!! and she's DYING the WHOLE TIME!!!!! and she still acts like everything is fine right up until her last moments. she is breaking my heart!!!!!!!

sorry i'm insane about her. i'm crazy. she lives in my brain (literally) so i have THOUGHTS on her

[sleeplesssmoll]

So I've been reading the traces recently and came across a line that seems like it should be important to well at least something but I haven't seen anyone talk about it? Here's the line btw:

It's specifically the "you're imitating the Messiah" Part that's like making me think. So uhh yeah I just wanted to share it.

Sorry if it's a strange thing to send I wanted to see someone else's opinion on it.

Reverse1999 loves to put Vertin in the position of Jesus. We saw this at the end of Chapter 2 where she was sitting in Judas's position and Schneider was in Judas's spot. Arcana calls her "the savior" and describes Vertin in an almost biblical manner whenever she's interacting with her. Even her little Suitcase is called an "ark". However, this instance is a bit different.

Disclaimer, Idk much about religion but I did try to look this bit up because it reminded me of something too. If anyone has more experience in the matter pls feel free to correct me or add on. I will do my best but I might get stuff wrong.

Note: Vertin was placed in a coma because the Foundation wanted her out of the way. This is relevant to the theory.

Here is what I found:

Source

The Jewish high priests were apparently looking for a reason to get rid of Jesus. As the revolutionary leader of a new movement that challenged the religious status quo, he posed a threat to their power. But they couldn’t just take action themselves. Ultimately, sentencing was up to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor at the time. And they needed to provide him with a legal justification for Jesus to be crucified. The trial of Jesus A number of witnesses testified against Jesus before the Sanhedrin, a Jewish court. Although the Gospel of Mark says many of them gave false testimony, Jesus didn’t confirm or deny their accusations. In fact, Jesus remained quiet through most of his trial, refusing to respond to the charges leveled against him. But he did respond to one question. Asked, “Are you the Messiah?” he seemed to admit that he was. Caiaphas, the chief priest, called this blasphemy. And then the others agreed that Jesus should be put to death. 

This trial parallels Vertin's story.

Moving on, this trail is in the chapter where Madam Z is playing ping-pong while trying to convince her friend to vote for her decision. The whole thing is an analogy to referring to how Vertin started off as the simple Timekeeper who kept records of the end of eras and now she plays this pivotal role that is rocking Foundation's core. She is the real ping-ping ball being batted between two factions of the Foundation. She has no say in the matter because she is now an object in a bigger game. Her fate relies on the people around her. Poor little Vertin is always a pawn in someone else's game. I highlighted some bits in red from the trail posted below that helped me put it together in my head. You can see it if you click "Keep reading." I hope this helps!

Also, thanks for giving me a chance to really look at this. I glossed over it the first time but the scene is even more intense now and I have a deeper appreciation for it. Any corrections or additions are welcome cause I'm out of my depth here.

Source: Chapter 4-16 Ball Game

Ping, pong. Ping, pong. Ping pong ping pong ping, pong. Ping. Pong.

An imitation show?

Yes, an imitation show. A ball imitation show, little thing.

You're imitating the Messiah, while I'm imitating an orange ball made of plastic.

Being pushed back and forth by two rackets, I have nowhere else to go. Once they apply a force on me, I can't help bouncing to the sky. 

You can see how the air flows across my dry, wrinkled skin ...

Oh, what a coincidence! Aren't you in the same situation as mine now!

Ha! Look at your frowning face-

Your face wrinkles from the eyebrows to the nose tip, but people can barely see those light furrows. We know what that means. You have a poker face, and it's never your fault.

But for now, your face is not the thing that matters. Well, maybe for someone it is, but still, it's not. You know what really matters?

The game! Yes, it's the game, of course the game matters!

Everyone loves the game. They gather at the stadium, yelling or roaring vehemently. They choose one team to become its fan and spend good money on a team uniform or an autographed ball.

Yet, it's just a ball. You see where I'm coming from?

Just a ball. Its outline, a circle, could be found in any geometry textbook and anywhere in this world. When the first hominid picked up a coconut and threw it to the sky-and caught it—and threw it—and caught it-and threw it again, when she felt joy and yelped, had she ever thought of the future?

The future where a simple ball has become so complicated and enchanting, now we call it the present.

Complicated and enchanting?

Hahahahahaha! Yes, sure! Complicated and enchanting!

Use your silly and smart head to think about this ball game carefully.

The complex scoring rules, the harsh requirements for reactive agility, the countless possible foul points ... Your fingers, your wrists, and arms, a correct way of using them will lead to victory!

What matters more is, like every ball game, it focuses on how you serve the ball and hitting it back.

It's not an easy job as it sounds. When you are in the game, you need to concentrate. Where will the ball come from, and how will you return it to your opponent-you need to figure that out within half a second.

Use your power in a proper way, move your feet in a stable pace, inhale and exhale at the right timings.

Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong...

The sound will last forever and ever until that bouncing little thing falls to either side of the court.

[deepfriedtrout]

Cooking up this one modern au that wouldn't probably turn out to be something, but it is fun spinning it around my head.

bodyguard!sonetto, celebrity!vertin au.

They were childhood friends but due to life circumstances, both of them got separated, with nothing more but letters and gifts being exchanged over the years. The years go by and the correspondences grow less and distant as the two of them pursue their own careers and grow into their own persons. Sonetto turns to working as a bodyguard after realizing she's pretty good at it, Vertin works in the line of... something, i guess, feel free to throw ideas at me, that shoots her into stardom.

After years the two of them finally cross paths, in a formal reception where Sonetto's working as a bodyguard to some person and Vertin's there because she was invited. Something something they meet, catch up a little, on what's been up to them.

Then at one point Sonetto becomes Vertin's bodyguard and then after all these years she gets to know things about Vertin's life that isn't blared through the media, and somewhere along the way she kinda gets integrated into the little (massive) circle of friends and found family Vertin has picked up along the way. Everyone knows Vertin and she practically knows everyone lmao. She's the guy who knows a guy that knows a guy. Vertin also gets to know what Sonetto's been up to, and finds herself also quickly integrated into Sonetto's own circle.

Pretty fun thinking about what the other characters are doing in this world. Maybe i'll put a list here or something.

Pavia and Lilya are Sonetto's coworkers. Pavia teaches her italian/sicilian on their free time and Lilya's the one to keep nagging her to loosen up

And being coworkers for years Sonetto has been dragged to numerous gatherings courtesy of Lilya that she's a pretty common fixture in the Lilya-Druvis househould. Druvis' younger cousin Sotheby adores her.

Vertin and Sonetto were both orphans in the same orphanage, hence why they know each other.

i'm thinking the incident that takes Sonetto and Vertin away is some fuckery happening with the orphanage (cough cough constantine) causes it to be investigated and dissolved, with the orphans being sent to other ones. This is where the two part ways.

Though some time after that, Vertin gets adopted by everyone's favorite foundation parents, Miss Z and Tooth Fairy. something something the toffees Vertin sends to Sonetto on the mail is courtesy of Tooth Fairy.

Vertin Zhang-Campbell rolls of the tongue nicely.

Sonetto, unfortunately, does not get adopted and ages out of the system, but manages to get a good foothold into adulting by being... Sonetto, ever the diligent overachiever.

I need someone to give me last name ideas for her oh god

Verneider are married. The way they first met is as probably as whirlwind and chaotic as canon verneider, but less... murder and death. They have been happily married for a while : )

Feel like Schneider would be an actor. She is the embodidment of a femme fatale lmao

Anyways verschnetto endgame in my head. idk how it happens but the buildup of the three's dynamic is something like "hey my wife saw you from across the bar and we really dig your vibe. can we buy you a drink?"

I kinda want Blonney and Horropedia to be a brief fixture here. Both of them are horror afficionados that have made a name for themselves in their specific crafts (movie director and writer) and Sonetto has once bodyguarded them. She did not have a good time (had to sit through a horror-specific awarding ceremony type thing and had to listen to them talk each others ears off. she is forever traumatized.) also a scene im thinking off is that Horropedia off-handedly mentions Vertin, to which Sonetto of course focuses on, but all in all the scene goes like the one tweet about a dentist mentioning their son is captain america's actor but its Tooth Fairy and Vertin lmao

[renegadesfic]

Hello everybody new fandom new pinned new me. I am DETERMINED to establish myself as The verneider author on whatever platforms I post on SO. Here we go.

I'm Nathan, or Angel. We are a system, our main blog is @renegadessys and you can always message us there, that's also where we follow from. Our pronouns are he/it. Most of the stuff we write is highly self indulgent and written for our fictives of various characters but especially with the list that will follow lots of this is just for fun!

Our main fandom and the one we will be posting a lot for as of now is Reverse: 1999, our main ships are Schneider/Vertin, Sonetto/Vertin, Lilya/Sonetto (rarepair central LMAO), and some poly variations thereof (Vertin has two hands!!!!).

Fic ideas and links below!

EXPLICIT

1. A followup to the first smutfic I wrote on ao3, Vertin/Schneider reuniting post Storm resolution and having some wonderful heartfelt moments and then. You Know. POSTED HERE

2. A followup to that followup - several months later, their anniversary.

3. An alternative followup - Vertin wakes up from a nightmare and there is comfort and also You Know.

4. College AU - Vertin meets Schneider at a party. There may be follow up oneshots to this one! POSTED HERE

5. Vampire Schneider/Vampire Hunter Vertin AU. Mostly just insane flirting and nsfw. POSTED HERE

6. Either standalone or potentially a followup to 4: Schneider inviting Sonetto to join her and Vertin

7. Lilya and Sonetto fuck around after that one scene in the story where they do the training simulation together. (NOTE: in this fic and all other fics I write with Lilya in them I will be writing her as a non-op trans girl. This is for one of our system members' sake because that's how she identifies. Don't get weird)

8. Schneider/Vertin and Sonetto/Lilya partner/sub swap. Very simple.

9. College age Vertin meets Schneider after she and her friends visit a bar that is not expressly a gay bar but sure comes close!

NON EXPLICIT

1. Vertin being diagnosed with some variant of Hanahaki disease while in the artificial somnambulism treatments post-chapter 2. Very angsty. NOW POSTING HERE

2. Vertin/Schneider coffee shop au. Someone has to do it. Vertin is a perpetually tired college student, Schneider is a perpetually flirty barista.

3. Future domestic oneshot where Vertin and Schneider are??? Married???? Have kids??????? Idk I just live here

4. End of chapter 4, Sonetto finds out when Z's birthday is and convinces everyone to throw her a surprise party as thanks for helping Vertin and co. (NOTE: I will be referring to her as Dr. Z regardless of canon, she worked hard to get a phd in whatever weird science she does and I refuse to discount it)

5. Ghost Schneider AU. Basically Vertin is "haunted" by Schneider's ghost after the Storm takes her, presumably due to some arcanum fluctuation that sticks her to Vertin (handwaves away the details). Romance. But sad.

6. Time travel fix-it - Vertin goes back in time to try to stop Schneider's death. NOW POSTING HERE

I will update this list as I get more ideas and write these. Please send me asks or let me know if there's one in particular you want to read!

[meilunye]

✧.* redemption

✧ Fandom: Reverse: 1999 ✧ Ship: Vertin/Schneider ✧ Word count: 7,1k ✧ WARNINGS: Major Character Death (it's Verneider, bros.) + Alternate Universe (Spies)

In the ugliest corner of a town about to be destroyed, spy Vertin finds something she wishes to save.

“It is true what they say…” Regulus glanced up at the building in front of her. The neon light silhouette of a woman in lingerie was sitting on top of the club’s name, as proof of what kind of place it was. “Sometimes, you can judge books by the cover.”

Wrapped up in her white coat at her side, Sonetto sighed. “At least you are not the one who has to investigate inside.”

“Happy to leave this to you!” Regulus exclaimed, her voice unbearably loud for the silent street they were walking. “Wouldn’t accept this kind of task if they paid me by the minute.”

Fully aware of how the debate about salaries and responsibility would end, Vertin seized the opportunity to step in between the two. “Let us go then, Sonetto. The sooner we start…”

“...The sooner we finish.” Another sigh shook Sonetto’s shoulders. “Alright. Lead the way.”

— Ф —

The inside of the club was… pretty much precisely how Vertin expected it to be. Velvet armchairs and couches ran along the dark walls, with colorful lights in all the shades of pink and red illuminating the room. In the farthest corner was a wooden stage. Behind the half-closed feather curtain, Vertin could peek at metal poles and cubes scattered everywhere.

An excellent starting point to find a wealthy creep.

When the request for help first reached the agency, Vertin couldn’t hide her surprise. They were the top-notch spies of the country, only deployed for the most serious of matters— international espionage, pursuit of essential subjects, elimination of political opposers… How did an anonymous sender discover their address, and why would they dare approach them with such a silly demand?

It comes without saying that Madame Constantine’s immediate response was to crumple the letter in her palms and toss it to the trash can. Vertin insisted they’d take on the case, applying enough pressure on the woman’s mind until she achieved her goal.

Not that she was overly enthused about catching some middle-aged pervert preying on naive teenagers. Although the idea of punishing such a ruthless monster was delightful, she was more interested in the identity of that anonymous and in their motives.

“The main show won’t begin for another thirty minutes.” Sonetto read the sign at the entrance aloud, sighing right after. Out of all spies, she was the worst candidate for that specific mission, given her purity of heart. It was a shame indeed that she happened to be Vertin’s most trusted companion.

Vertin took a seat on a velvet couch in the farthest corner. “Let’s wait here and observe.”

After ordering a drink to pass as regular customers, the two girls sat back and stared at the incoming and outgoing patrons. Their ages varied steeply, ranging from high schoolers searching for a night of high to old business people close to retirement. Boys and girls alike chimed in to grab a drink at the counter or look forward to the event onstage.

“Do you see our suspect anywhere?” Sonetto asked. Her glass was still untouched.

Vertin ran her gaze around the room once more. There were no traces of a man bearing a scar on his cheek anywhere, nor someone suspiciously covering their face. “It appears not.”

“Should we leave, then?” Despite the flawless lying skills in her curriculum, Sonetto seemed to forget how to conceal her eagerness. She was dying to escape. “If our objective was to investigate him, but he didn’t come—”

“It is far too early to throw in the towel,” Vertin cut her off. She took a long sip of her drink to pause dramatically and emphasize her next line. “He could show up later during the night. Besides, since we traveled all the way here and Regulus and Druvis are still out there handling their tasks, we might as well learn more about this place.”

Unable to offer a valid rebuttal, Sonetto simply pouted.

And true to her word, Vertin spent the next hour studying the area. The building was theft-proof, probably to safeguard the preposterous amount of money the owners raked in every night thanks to their dancers. No air vents, no blind spots in the camera surveillance, and no nooks and crannies to hide in.

The only way to catch their suspect would be to lure them somewhere private. The bathroom was the most trivial option, yet not the best choice: what would they do after killing the man? If they poisoned him with cyanide, they’d need to carry a limp body through the club. If they stabbed him, the pool of blood would give them away before they’d manage to leave the premises.

“I have an idea,” Vertin said after a long moment of quiet. “There is one way to trap our target in a private space and, perhaps, plan an escape route before we’re found out.”

Sonetto’s grey eyes barely lit up. “And that would be?”

“Dressing up as dancers.” Vertin’s tense smile showed her embarrassment in suggesting such a shameless thought. “They host private shows in those secluded rooms in the back. If they have a window or any sort of vent, we could—”

“Slow down, Leader...” Sonetto shook her head, so vehemently that Vertin feared it might fall off. “It is unlike you to disregard the obvious flaw in your plan. We do not possess the skills of a dancer, first of all, and… How can we be sure our target will book a show with us and not some other patron?”

A fair objection indeed. Vertin pressed her lips together, unsure how to improve her faulty scheme. Did they have no choice but to act outside, in the open, with so many potential witnesses? It was against a spy’s work ethic.

Just as she was about to open her mouth again, the lights went off. Pink neons and warm spotlights all moved to the center of the stage, where the curtain was slowly opening.

“They’re starting,” Vertin said.

Sonetto rolled her eyes. “Leader... Why do you look excited to see this show? It’s dancers in a nightclub.”

Yes, Vertin knew what sort of dance they were going to perform. A tango made of seduction, movements meant to entice the audience, and likely lewd sounds and poses. It wasn’t out of desire that Vertin wished to witness the event; it was merely a curiosity, having been raised in a conservative environment.

The dancer came forward from the backstage, drowning in a thick layer of fog. Donning frilly dresses and high-heeled shoes, they began performing one sexy gesture at a time, hurrying between the two ends of the stage.

The choreography was clumsy. Vertin knew that technical perfection was definitely not the primary goal of the dance, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if those movements studied to showcase flesh like food on a silver platter weren’t harmful to their spines.

A gunshot echoed through the cheers of the crowd. Vertin stiffened, her fight or flight reaction triggering immediately— her hand darted to the gun in her pants, while she squinted her eyes in search of the shooter.

Much to her surprise, a petite girl held the smoking gun, her white and wine-red skirt twirling in the neon lights as she crossed the stage, parting the group of dancers in two halves.

“Bang,” she whispered. Her voice was soothing, barely audible, were it not for the suspended silence lingering in the room. Then, just as suddenly, the public broke into a loud uproar, cheering the newcomer.

From her striking entrance and the aura she gave off, the girl must be the lead dancer of the nightclub. Her feather dress was gorgeous, carefully designed to expose as much of her skin as possible while not resulting in vulgarity. Her eyes seemed to sparkle— Vertin was captured by those unfamiliar hues of red.

“Her moves are… so perfect,” even Sonetto commented, out of breath. “She’s wasted in a club. I’m convinced she can perform on the stage of a proper theater.”

Vertin would agree, were she able to find her voice. It had died somewhere in her dry throat, along with her memories of how to form a meaningful sentence. That girl’s dance was… hypnotizing. She couldn’t rip her eyes off her.

The girl danced, guiding her fellow crew members while hoarding all the attention. As the final touch, she pointed her gun at the audience again. The red dot on the muzzle showed its true nature of a toy, as did the dazed expression on her face.

“Who’s going to die tonight?” she cooed, rhythmically swaying the gun from left to right, then left and right again, in slow motions. “Ah, how to decide…”

Sonetto caught Vertin’s attention again. “Everyone is staring as if this was the biggest honor of their lives. Do you think a prize is at stake for whoever is chosen?”

“Might be.” Vertin shrugged. Not like there was a large variety of rewards a nightclub could offer, anyway. “We don’t need to know this information for our mission.”

At last, the cane pointed in Vertin’s direction.

She held her breath.

“Bang,” the girl hummed.

Vertin glanced around, despite being sure she wouldn’t see anyone else. They had picked the farthermost table for a reason, and isolation now came at a steep price. She was the chosen person in the audience. All eyes were on her.

Their gazes met. Behind the smug grin curving the girl’s lips, behind her conceited motions and statuesque pose, behind her rehearsed script, Vertin saw something strange shimmering in those red irises. A message. Something only she could decipher.

“Our lucky guest of the day!” 

The owner himself came to greet her, the sudden appearance drawing a soft gasp out of Sonetto’s lips. To think two spies had let their guard down in a crowded room, whilst in the middle of a job… they would be in for severe punishment if Constantine ever found out.

Before Vertin could utter a syllable, the man seized her wrist and raised her arm to the sky in an imaginary toast. “Congratulations, congratulations! Our dear Schneider has chosen a favorite for tonight.”

Schneider… A pseudonym, for sure, in that time and place. A stage name, perhaps? It didn’t fit the girl’s gentle nature at all.

“Sir, kindly lower your voice,” Vertin muttered.

“Why would I?! This is a time for celebration!” His laughter was loud and obnoxious, like the mischievous murmurs of a thousand critters in the woods. “What prize shall you wish for, my honored guest?”

Ah, so there was a prize to be won. What could Vertin ask for? She didn’t want anything that the nightclub could offer. Her dreams and hopes, albeit faint, were far beyond the materialistic world.

She glanced over at the dancer again. Still immobile in her stiff pose, the gun pointed at Vertin, she seemed to be sore all over. Vertin felt pity for her— she should allow her the mercy of a break by answering the question, at least. “Would a private show be alright?”

“Leader?!” Sonetto shrieked.

Disgruntled groans rose from the neighboring tables, enveloped in the darkness. Vertin realized that her request would stir some trouble: given her popularity, how many suitors did Schneider have? How many perverted desires did she have to hear and, hopefully not, satisfy?

“A private show…” The club owner failed to conceal his disappointment. “Ah, I see, I see. We live in a free country, you know! Girls can love whoever they please!”

Vertin rolled her eyes. “That is not—”

“But, you see, we need Schneider’s approval for this,” he interrupted. “While it is true that our dancers love and live for their audience, some private shows can get rather… feisty. And, my esteemed madam will surely agree, consent is vital in this world of roughness and violence.”

Another eye roll. “Absolutely. However, it is not within my plans to—”

“So, Schneider…” The man turned to the stage again. Despite his courteous smile, a dangerous light flickered in his eyes. Almost like a silent threat. “What do you say?”

Vertin chased her gaze again. She was not born with an expressive face, Constantine said. And, well, she wasn’t the brightest when it came to voicing her thoughts tactfully (or at least, Regulus and Sonetto firmly believed so). Still, she prayed that the seriousness in her would at least tell Schneider: “You’re safe. I won’t harm you.”

The dancer’s smile trembled at first. But genuine relief washed over her when she tilted her head to look at Vertin. “I have no objections, Sir.”

“Marvelous! Excellent! Another customer was satisfied.” The man gave two energic pats on Vertin’s back, his palms slamming against her ribcage. “Follow the corridor and open the first door on the right. Schneider will join you soon.”

Vertin sighed. “...Thank you.”

When she raised her head once more, Schneider was gone. She must be preparing for the next part of the night, Vertin assumed. The show resumed without her, and the enthusiasm in the crowd was rekindled.

Only Sonetto’s mind was still troubled. “What are you doing, Leader?” she asked, the exasperation clear in her voice. Was it only that, or perhaps mixed with a tad of jealousy? Vertin had been aware of her feelings for some time. “We didn’t come here to have fun. Our purpose was to investigate, not to—”

“This is unlike you, Sonetto. Calm down.” Vertin forced herself to be firm and steady, like the rock to lean on Sonetto needed. Regardless of their ages and individual goals, they were meant to look after one another as childhood friends. “I will check firsthand if those inner rooms suit our plan. Furthermore, I’ll remind you that the agency seeks new members to hire.”

Sonetto averted her gaze. “And you believe… a dancer from a nightclub is a valid candidate?”

“Sometimes, the rarest stones are hidden under the mud and rubble.” Constantine once told her those words. Vertin hardly bothered recalling her quotes, but this one had always stuck with her for some reason. “I will be back shortly.”

Sonetto did not seem convinced. She dared not protest, however, and gave up the fight with a resigned sigh. “I trust your judgment, Leader,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me hanging for too long.”

— Ф —

Impatience was not a flaw Vertin typically possessed. However, nervously seated on an uncomfortable leather sofa in the red velvet room, she couldn’t help but feel fidgety. Half an hour had passed since she was granted a private show, yet no traces of the dancer could be seen.

Even though Schneider did look like the type of performer who needed a long time to prepare for the show, what with her perfect make-up and her expensive choice of clothes and jewelry, Vertin believed the gazes they had shared in the night club cleared any doubt about the true nature of their meeting.

She had already memorized the private rooms' map and located the air vents and bathroom windows. With nothing left to do but twirl her fingers and wait, Vertin’s patience was running thin.

Just as he was about to leave and ask the owner whether he had scammed her, the lights went off. A softer glow of candlelight and pink neon lamps enveloped the room. And on the opposite side of the room, a door opened slowly.

Vertin swallowed.

Announced by a thick cloud of citrusy perfume, Schneider waltzed towards her, donning nothing but her revealing feather dress and red guns in her hands. She bridged the gap between them, winking at Vertin as she slammed her high-heeled boot on the table.

She was putting her best on display, indeed. Had Vertin said nothing, the two would have probably indulged in a proper private show before getting to the serious business. It was a tempting offer…

Alas, Sonetto was right: there was no time to waste.

“You can save your dance for another occasion,” Vertin cut her off, her voice hoarse. Damn, what spell had Schneider cast over her? “I came here to discuss important matters with you.”

No reaction could be read on Schneider’s face. The faint glimmer of disappointment in her eyes was the sole hint of how she felt. “Bene.” She dropped on the sofa facing Vertin, crossing her legs. “I am all ears, o’ mysterious miss from out of town.”

“First of all…” Vertin struggled to condense her thoughts into words. Small talk and introductions were not her strongest assets, and tasks she usually left for Regulus to handle. “How did you end up here? You don’t blend in with the environment of this club.”

Schneider chuckled. “Oh, my lord. Straight to the point, eh?” She rested her gun on the table between them, caressing it softly with her fingertips. “What can I say to you, my honorable guest? One has to do what they must to provide for their family.”

“Why don’t we make a deal? You tell me more about yourself…” Vertin also crossed her legs, copying the dancer’s pose. “And, if I deem our conversation satisfying, I will have a wonderful opportunity for you. You get the full payment for this show regardless of the outcome.”

Schneider stood still for a long time, seconds stretching into minutes. She seemed to ponder the opportunity thoroughly, even if Vertin was fairly sure she had no better options for the near future. “Why do you wish to know more about me?”

The first, vital rule of the agency was to never speak of its existence to anyone who was not a potential member. Sure, Vertin had utmost faith in her judgment when recruiting new spies, but one couldn’t be too sure. It was too soon to trust Schneider light-heartedly.

“I have my reasons,” she kept it vague. “I’m not expecting a speech dating back to your birth. I simply want to assess something.”

Schneider flashed a tense smile. “Va bene,” she conceded. “I have a large family. It is me, my mamma, and my twelve older sisters back at home… Quite a handful to keep the boat afloat. And, as the youngest, my career paths were not very varied.”

“I disagree.” Vertin shook her head. “Age does not matter when picking a career of your choice. I was also deemed too young for my job, but this didn’t stop my mentor from training me since childhood. Why did you end up in a shallow nightclub, when you look so refined?”

Another giggle flowed past Schneider’s lips. It was a sweet and earnest tune, albeit tainted by a tinge of discomfort. The kind of melancholy that the agency excelled at preying on. “Dancing and playing with guns are two things I have always cherished,” she explained. “My tasks are simple and pay well. Plus, if I take on this burden, my sisters will be spared.”

“...I understand.” Her attitude was perfect for the agency’s purposes. With such a spirit, Schneider would be a wonderful spy: she seemed to be someone who would dispose of any enemy gracefully and see her innocence as a price to pay for the greater good. “Are you a believer, Schneider?”

“My mamma is a devout woman.” Schneider’s smile cracked. Perhaps it was an unhappy topic for her. “As for me… I worship the lord in my ways.”

Religion and Bible. When Vertin had retrieved the letter from the trash bin, her keen eye had caught a few details. One, some of the lines were direct quotes from the Scriptures. Two, the paper smelled like ripe tangerine.

Nobody among her coworkers and higher-ups was overly fond of fruit. Schneider’s brown hair, on the other hand, bore a faint aroma of citrus fruits. If she merged this realization with the letter “S.” signing off the message, then…

“We have taken charge of your request,” Vertin said out of the blue. She lifted her bag from the floor and tossed a tattered notebook onto the table, next to the red pistol. “My honorable customer, Miss S. My name is Vertin, and I have come to clarify the task you wanted us to perform. May I know why you wish to get rid of one of the nightclub’s most loyal patrons?”

A wide range of emotions crossed Schneider’s face— a striking contrast with the composed indifference she had kept up until now. Confusion, realization, stupor… She wore her heart on her sleeve when she wasn’t busy pretending.

Once it returned, Schneider’s smile was more confident. “Since I started working in this place, over ten young dancers have vanished in unknown circumstances, only to be found dead a couple days later,” she said. “Nobody can see the connection— or, well, everybody keeps pretending not to. Before going missing, they all performed a private show for Mr. Barnes.”

A serial killer with a knack for strip teases. Scum, if Vertin had to voice her opinion, yet unfortunately not out of the ordinary. “So, you sought our help to dispose of him. Pardon me for my boldness, Miss Schneider, but I deem you capable of wonderful tricks with your gun. Any reason you’re not taking direct action?”

“A reason…” Schneider’s gaze landed on the weapon. “I might sound selfish, my lord. If I stained my hands with the murder of a customer and were to be caught, I would be thrown in jail and lose my main source of income. Who would provide for… my mamma and sisters?”

The brief pause caught Vertin’s attention. Whatever, she could inquire about it later. The clock was ticking, and the allocated time for the private show was soon to run out. “I understand,” she nodded. “You want an outsider to shoulder the responsibility. Divine punishment, almost. As if I was your lord.”

“But the Lord sits enthroned forever,” Schneider started quoting, her voice devoid of any emotion. “He has established his throne for justice, and he judges the world with righteousness; he judges the peoples with uprightness.”

Sighing, Vertin opened the notebook at a bookmarked page. The yellowed paper was cluttered with notes, scribbles, and taped-on dried flowers. Her pride and joy: the compilation of her notes from the tender age of four until today.

“We are working on your case.” Vertin’s tone grew hastier, her nervousness growing the more she spoke, and the arms ticked on the wall clock. “By “we”, I mean a group of trusted coworkers and me, not the agency. My mentor deemed the case far too trivial to deserve our attention.”

Schneider failed to mask her hurt. “Capisco. I had no big expectations when I sent my parcel, if that makes my dear lord feel better.”

“Our time is running out, Schneider.” Vertin slammed her open palm on the notebook. “I can’t brief you properly on the context, but I require your trust. The reason nobody stopped us from handling this case and neglecting bigger ones is that… your city will vanish soon.”

A confused frown bent Schneider’s forehead. “Vanish? How so?”

“A war will break out.” Vertin’s instincts screamed against her decision. Divulging key information was akin to a sin. Constantine’s punishment would leave a deep scar on her body and soul. “Explosives will turn your city into a wasteland. My main goal was to save you from despair, before you…”

Silence fell heavy between them. Schneider wasn’t dumb. Surely, she could finish the sentence on her own.

“Before I met my tragic end,” she said through gritted teeth. “That is unfortunate. Cazzo, life has its favorites after all. But tell me, my lord who seems to hold the keys to the future… If what you say is true, does Mr. Barnes also die?”

Vertin skimmed through the pages of Miss Matilda’s prophetic tale, in search of the short list of survivors the woman had compiled. She read through it carefully. Below the names of politicians and lucky men who owned bunkers, stood the name Timothy Barnes. “Hm, no. It appears he was lucky.”

Although Vertin didn’t speak Schneider’s mother tongue, there were few doubts about the nature of her next sentence: loud cursing, and a little whining in between. Her frustration was perfectly understandable to Vertin, despite her usual detachment from the people she helped.

“As a pious woman, my mamma would warn me against this kind of prophecy. Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world.” Schneider quoted another verse. “Much to her disappointment, though, I beg to differ. Is this fate set in stone?”

Vertin smiled softly. “Not necessarily. We cannot rewrite the history that led to this moment, nor prevent the city from being destroyed. What we can do is save a few people from their demise.”

“At what cost?” Schneider promptly quipped. “No favor comes without a price. And especially not favors this big.”

What a wise girl. Vertin drew an empty form from the end of her notebook and placed it on the table along with an old pen. “By filling this in, you will become a member of our agency. My crew and I will vouch for your entrance among our ranks,” she said. “You will acquire a… more entertaining job, and a safe haven for your mother and sisters.”

Vertin clasped her hands tightly together, nails creaking one against the other. How hypocritical of her to criticize Sonetto for her lack of professionality, when she had violated at least a hundred rules within a minute.

“All of my family?” Schneider inspected the form with a suspicious glare, not trusting its contents. “It’s veeery big, my lord.”

Vertin was done playing games. “All of it. Nobody is left out.”

“Not even dancers and strippers.” Schneider scoffed. “I suppose everyone deserves redemption, in your superior eyes.”

After a few moments of hesitation, she picked up the pen.

— Ф —

The wind rose high on the docks that morning, almost a foreboding of what was to come. The seagulls shrieked as they waltzed through the clouds and disappeared from view in the light of the sun.

Despite the early hour, not many people were around. Even the guards were in lower numbers— well, the majority of their troops was likely busy downtown inspecting the corpse of Mr. Barnes, a renowned businessman famous for his wealth and attitude of a casanova. Nobody had a reason to hurt him, the public would say. He was a tad obnoxious, perhaps, but a loving father and husband nonetheless.

There was so much the world did not know. He may have cherished his wife and daughters, but he was also chasing strippers in a nightclub and venting out his anger on their bodies. He was a kind man; he prayed at the church, yet had stained his soul with more than just one murder.

“Vertin,” Sonetto called out from the deck. “It is time. We must leave.”

Vertin turned around to glance at her crew. Her companions had boarded their private ship at dawn, and busied themselves with preparing the vessel for the journey. Only Vertin had lagged behind, idling around the port in search of something.

Of someone.

Where was she?

Vertin sighed. “Five more minutes,” she insisted. The crowd was scattered and sparse. The one person she wanted to meet was nowhere to be found. “We can afford a brief delay.”

The ship horn went off, ripping the silence of the port. Some birds cried from above the funnels, startled by the sudden loud noise. Their time was about to run out. The city would be destroyed within two hours, and they had to move to a safe spot before it happened.

Something hit the back of Vertin’s head— she turned around, immediately met with Regulus’s angry pout. “Stop spacing out! Maybe she decided not to come!” she whined. “She might prefer dying in a bombing than surviving, starting anew, and facing the humiliation of her past.”

The possibility was realistic. Regulus was not speaking in vain, indeed. If they stayed back to wait for Schneider a second too long, they would also die in the tragedy. The agency would suffer an irreparable loss, not to mention the guilt that would haunt Vertin in the afterlife.

“Perhaps,” Vertin shrugged. “I want to trust the spark I saw in her eyes.”

But the clock ticked, and so did the life of the city shorte. The church bells sang a tune to mark the passing of noon. Even the seagulls ceased their noise. It was… too late.

With a heavy heart, Vertin walked up the gangplank.

“My lord.”

Vertin spun on herself so fast, that the wind fiercely slapped her cheeks. Schneider was there— in the flesh and bone, donning her beautiful feather dress and a sorrowful smile on her lips. She held a purse in her grasp, where the luggage should have been.

“You’re here.” Even her monotone voice could not conceal her happiness within. Her heart thumped in her chest, to the rhythm of the waves at her back. “You always appear at the very last second.”

Schneider smirked. “An artist, much like a mistress, should always have a striking entrance.”

“I see.” Vertin glanced around the port. Nobody stood at Schneider’s side, nor resembled her looks in the slightest. “What about your family?”

In her childhood, Vertin had been a troublesome kid. She ran from the orphanage, often sneaking out of the windows at night and climbing down the balconies. She pulled pranks on Constantine and skipped her training when she felt blue or lazy.

Whenever she was caught lying to save face, Constantine would repeat the same motto, a saying from the old world. “Your sins will find you out,” she simply said, writing down the punishment she had come up with. “No use making things up, my dear Vertin. The truth cannot be concealed forever.”

Her mind darted back to those memories. To the mornings she spent in Constantine’s office, nervously biting on his nails while waiting for the verdict. To the afternoons she had to stare powerlessly at the locked door, when they locked her in the toolshed for breaking the rules. To the nights she cried herself to sleep, promising she would be a good girl who doesn’t lie… only to spiral back into sin on the very next dawn.

Because, for the first time in her life, Vertin stood on the opposite end of the office desk.

“My lord, I am sorry,” Schneider said, her voice cracking. “I lied to you.”

Vertin furrowed her brow. “What did you lie about?”

“My family.” Schneider wiped her eyes with the back of her arm. Was she tearing up out of sadness or regret? “They’ve all been gone for a long time. It is only me, myself, and I.”

All of the puzzle pieces snapped back into place at last. The despair of a young woman on her own in the wicked world, easy prey of wealthy pimps. The impossibility to leave her current situation, simply out of fear of ending up on the edge of a street. The desperate attempt at summoning a powerful agency to break her shackles.

And the risky, crazy freedom that Vertin’s offer must have been in her eyes. The chance to begin anew, at the price of a few lives to take on behalf of Constantine’s schemes. A laughable sum to trade for gold.

Mistaking her silence for disappointment, Schneider kept rambling. “The true reason I reached out for you was… revenge. Nothing noble or pure as you were led to believe,” she muttered. “My sisters and mamma worked at the nightclub too. The thirteen victims of Mr. Barnes... all bore my same surname.”

“He paid for his crimes. Your wish has been fulfilled.” Vertin offered her an open palm. “Come with me. There is nothing left for you in this doomed city.”

Hesitation shone vividly in Schneider’s eyes, her gaze fluttering between Vertin’s alluring hand, the ship behind her, and the sun over the horizon. Was she going to turn down the proposal and choose death, after all?

Thankfully, she held Vertin’s hand. “Lead the way, my kind lord.”

“Gladly.” Vertin pulled her on the plank. “We will teach you a new way to live.”

— Ф —

Far away from the light pollution of cities and beacons, the night sky was stunning on the open sea. The hundred hues of the galaxy and the million stars scattered about enveloped the ship fully, turning the main deck into a breathtaking panoramic viewpoint.

How many words had they exchanged in the past few hours, and what time was it? Vertin couldn’t recall ever talking as much as she did that evening with Schneider, sitting with her legs crossed and a bottle of wine by her side.

It was indeed Schneider who smelled like tangerines. She carried dried peels in her pockets and purse to keep them fresh at all times. She also loved feathers and their ambiguous fragility, which she believed to represent her situation well. And, also, Schneider was fond of stars.

Vertin hung from her lips, gathering each and every drop of information like a thirsty pilgrim in the desert. She took mental notes of Schneider’s preferences, tastes, likes, and dislikes. She crossed out of her mental list the topics they already discussed, and furiously brainstormed to find new ones.

She was greedy. Schneider made her curious in a way she didn’t know was possible. It was an undying hunger for more details, more superficial small talk that yet filled her chest with warmth. “Is this what it means to feel at home?” Vertin thought. Something she was not accustomed to.

“The landscape from the agency’s rooftop is awesome, although the beauty before our eyes right now is unrivaled,” Vertin said, dreamy. More than on wine, she was drunk on happiness as she spoke her mind freely. “I will take you there. We can share another bottle of Chardonnay and use Miss Matilda’s telescope to peek at the paler stars.”

Schneider’s dejected smile never faded. It was printed on her lips, like an indelible mark. And Vertin wasn’t sure of its cause— perhaps, she felt guilty for what had befallen her home. The burning smoke trails could still be seen above the shore where the city once stood. “I’m looking forward to it, my lord.”

“Don’t call me that,” Vertin shook her head. “Just Vertin is fine. We’re all equals within the agency.”

Schneider chuckled. “I am not an official member yet. Plus you are my savior. It is only natural for me to call you my lord.”

Sure, if that's what she desired. Except being referred to with such a highfalutin title spread uncomfortable heat across Vertin’s cheeks. She cleared her throat with a cough. “We should head to bed. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

She remembered with horror the bureaucratic procedures to accept new spies. The physical tests came first, followed by the mental fortitude quizzes, which Vertin was sure Schneider would ace. The rest was an exhausting nightmare made of forms to fill in, stamps to attach, questions to answer…

“Before we head below deck to rest…” Schneider stood up and pulled her dress down to cover her thighs. “May I bless you with a short performance? You didn’t get to see me dance last time.”

Right, she didn’t enjoy her private show. And well, it might have been just because of the wine, but damn if Vertin felt like watching Schneider shine. “Go ahead.”

The performance was flawless, as expected. Schneider’s body seemed weightless while she spun around in her feather dress, the pale light of the moon reflecting in her crimson eyes. She swirled and twirled, crafting an intricate choreography with her elegant movements, one after the other.

Vertin was mesmerized, completely lost in her awe. She swallowed thickly, not recognizing the knot of tension blocking off her throat— had a woman’s lips ever been so inviting? So glossy and soft, luring her in?

With a final bow, it was a wrap. Droplets of sweat glistened on Schneider’s forehead and shoulders, dripping down her collarbones. When she tilted her head up to look at her audience, the smile on her lips was finally genuine.

Schneider pulled out her trustworthy gun from her garter and aimed it at Vertin’s face. “Bang, bang, bang,” she chanted playfully, pretending to shoot her. “Did my lord enjoy the show I put up solely for her?”

“It was fantastic,” Vertin commented, her throat dry. “You’re… truly a great dancer, Schneider. A shame the wrong eyes were cast on you this entire time.”

Breathless, Schneider dropped back at her side, her shoulder brushing against Vertin’s as she giggled again. “Grazie. The praise feels outwardly coming from you.”

The atmosphere was perfect. Following the lead of an instinct she wasn’t aware she possessed, Vertin closed the distance between their mouths. Schneider’s lips were soft and moist, with a faint aftertaste of chapstick. 

The more she kissed her, the more passion she poured into the movements of her tongue, the more Vertin’s shyness melted. She pulled Schneider closer, holding her by the waist as she deepened the kiss, more and more, and more.

“Everything is perfect now,” Schneider whispered when they parted for air, a rosy blush on her cheeks. “Thank you for sending me off so sweetly, my lord.”

Vertin scowled, instinctively chasing her lips again. “Sending you off?”

“My deepest apologies.”

The following seconds were a blur. Everything happened so suddenly and so quickly, that Vertin couldn’t process what was happening until it was too late to put a halt to it.

Schneider hopped on her feet again, approaching the side of the deck at a concerning speed. She grabbed the taffrail with both hands and took a deep, sharp breath. Then, she climbed over it.

— Ф —

“My deepest, most sincere, and heartfelt apologies, my lord.” She looked at Vertin from above her shoulder, tears in her eyes. “I have lied to you again.”

She vanished from Vertin’s sight, swallowed by the tides underneath. Not a sound rose from the waves as they welcomed her in their cold embrace, her soul leaving the world silently. And just like that, Schneider was no more.

“What…” Vertin stuttered, her heart unmoving. “What?”

When she clenched her fists to pull herself up, the noise of crumpling paper caught her attention. A note had been swiftly placed in her palm— how cunning of Schneider to fool even a spy’s reflexes.

“You, Lord, are forgiving and good, abounding in love to all who call to you. Although I did not forge these words, I feel every syllable in my bones,” Vertin read out. “Your offer was truly the greatest act of kindness I have ever hoped to receive in this decaying world. Alas, I am sorry to disagree with you, my lord: some of us, perhaps, do not deserve redemption.”

Tears landed on the paper as Vertin was reading. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her sleeve, determined to read Schneider’s final message before accepting her disappearance.

“I accept the fate that was cast upon me. If my city has to be wiped away, I believe it is Heaven’s will to purify it from its corruption. And, if I die a nobler death after showing you the performance I owed you, I will hopefully be allowed to join my mamma and sisters in the afterlife.” Two words were scribbled in red ink on the corner of the page, in Schneider’s native language. “Ti amo.”

Ti amo… I love you. Love. Yes, maybe… That had been Vertin’s first taste of love.

And it was gone, like a feather in the wind.

“Schneider, you—” Unable to hold her grief any longer, Vertin just broke down in loud sobs. “Why would you leave like that?!”

She clasped the yellowed paper close to her chest, as if she could hug Schneider in a similar fashion. Where was her body now, and where her soul? Was she resting peacefully on the ocean floor, making the abyss shine with her pure heart?

“I couldn’t even say it back…”

The note smelled of tangerines.

— Ф —

“What is taking her so long?!”

Regulus’s whines tore the silence to pieces once more. Druvis sighed, not sure how to deal with her antics anymore after making her shut up a dozen times. She did have a point: four hours had passed since they had disembarked the ship, and yet no progress had been made in their march back to the city.

“She’s honoring Schneider’s memory,” Sonetto reprimanded her with a glare. “Leader spent the entire day and night painting feathers in red ink.”

Regulus gasped. “So that’s why the light was on all night! I thought I was going crazy!”

“Be patient, Regulus,” Druvis said. “Although Vertin is accustomed to loss, it was the first time I ever saw her cry. Schneider’s death has taken a toll on her spirit.”

Sonetto couldn’t hold back a peal of fake laughter. “Indeed. It seems the Leader has been shot through the heart.”

The final feather landed on top of the others, gathered in a messy pile of white and red. The wind was sure to scatter them across the valley when it would rise— everything according to Vertin’s plan.

“Goodbye, Schneider.”

She kept her eyes glued to the makeshift tombstone she had cut and carved with her own hands. Even the hole under it had been dug and refilled with nothing but elbow grease and willpower. A bearable effort for a great cause.

Of course, Schneider’s corpse was never retrieved. It wasn’t sought, to be fair: Vertin ordered the sailors against it, refusing to desecrate her resting place. It was fine. The little bird had chosen where to end her flight.

Crafting her a symbolic tombstone on the hilltop was Vertin’s selfish desire to have something to pay respect to whenever she left on a mission. It was her oath, a decision she made in the aftermath of that night.

“Oh, right. Before I forget…” Vertin placed a tangerine on the moss under the headstone. Someday, once the trees she planted have grown, the ripe fruits will turn Schneider’s memorial into a scented paradise. “I hope you are happy now. Send my greetings to your mother and sisters.”

A gust of wind combed through her hair. Vertin giggled under her breath, choosing to interpret it as Schneider’s mischievous response. What would she say, if she saw her mourning on an empty tomb? She would quote some verses from the Bible, surely.

“Bang bang bang,” the breeze seemed to say.

Vertin stood up.

[necroangelz]

bringing back this post bc i don't think i discussed my intellectual thought process enough

ok so starting off with the color of the words. "Last words" is red, Schneider's color, refers to how she uh, ceases to exist. "last time" is blue, referring to vertin, and i can't really explain this well but here me out i think it could have something to do with how this will be the last time she'll let herself lose anyone she loves. or maybe it's the last time she'll get to see Schneider again. "born to die" is orange, and i guess it refers to the both of them. it also makes me think of what sonetto said in the 3rd(?) act, about how they were born to die martyrs.

the bloody roses are on the top row, in the middle, with the photos where they're aiming guns at each other. they fought, caused each other to bleed, etc etc their love ended in blood and death.

the left photo in the middle row reminded me of St. Pavlov foundation somehow, but it also resembles a church, so it has connections to both vertin and Schneider. the middle photo has two doves, resembling the both of them. and also the colors go well with their photos in the corners. and lastly the right photo in the middle row is obviously referencing vertin, because of the rain and the umbrella.

i love putting way too much thought into my moodboards xoxoxoxoxoxo

choose your last words, this is the last time, ‘cause you and i, we were born to die !!

“ am i having hallucinations? or are you missing me, as i am missing you? ”

SELF INDULGENT VERNEIDER MOODBOARD! whahhaahhaha i just had to quote schneider there.

rambling under the cut. like/rb appreciated!

NOW PLAYING: Born To Die by Lana Del Rey

ok like idc what people say, Schneider is so Lana Del Rey core. i linked a nice Schneider playlist i really enjoyed. anyway speaking of Schneider I'll definitely make a moodboard for her soon.

this moodboard was so fun to make.... tragic yuri <3