#(I simply believe that that is a problem that could be solved with money)

[yuunarii-arii]

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗼'𝘀 𝗦𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗼𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘀𝗵

NSFW (coming soon)

Warning: none? Feet feet feet, mediocre writing Summary: Theo develops a slight obsession with your feet a/n: I don't think this is the correct format for a drabble, but meh. I'm trying to get used to writing a little bit less formally. Everything I write sounds like it's the start of a "Once upon a time" story. 😐 Feedback is very much appreciated!

Theodore Nott has always been an observant man, that certainly didn't change when he began his relationship with you; on the contrary, he had become much more aware of every little thing you do. Theo is the type of person who would take notice of how often you chew the tip of the same quill every time you feel nervous, he’s the type of man who commits to acts of service just so he can receive that angelic smile on your face. He would remember everything about you like it was second nature.

When you started dating, he was fully aware that you had a habit of decorating your feet with nail polish and ankle bracelets, ‘anklets’ as you corrected him several times. He didn’t pay it much mind, he thought it was cute, but that was the extent of it.

However, during one evening you had trouble connecting the hook of your newest anklet, so you asked a very studious Theo for help. Leaving the homework that you begged him to review, he asked for what you needed, and you responded with a shake of your foot and a bat of your eyelash, “I can’t put this anklet on, can you help me, Teddy?” You knew the effect that name had on him, he knew you did, but it sounds so nice on your lips. How could he ever say ‘no.’ Theo got down on one leg and placed your foot atop his knee, hooking the chain together, but while doing so, he was hyper aware of all the details on your foot; the colorful nail polish, the details of your feet, the smoothness of your skin, and your new anklet bracelet had made it look all the more attracting. He wanted nothing more than to kiss atop your foot, adoring your very being. In a sudden urge, he kissed the skin below your anklet, admiring how beautiful your body truly is. You breathed his name, your cheeks lit like flames; you stuttered wondering what had suddenly gotten into him. He replied as if it was obvious:

“I’m just being… attentive to your body.”

“Yeah, but my feet?!”

He maintained eye contact as he left a trail of kisses along your foot, “you took the time to make it look so pretty…” He continued as he grazed his lips on your ankle, ”it’s only right that I pay it attention as well.”

You couldn’t believe this man, all you knew was that he would be sending you to an early grave if this went on.

Ever since then he had taken any chance he could get to hold and touch your feet; he would offer to help you slide your socks and shoes on, he insisted on moisturizing your ankles with lotion, or when you went out, he would point at cute accessories or nail polish that’d look good on you. Even when you’re simply hanging out in the common room, he would pull your legs to rest on his lap— it was non-negotiable. And don’t get me started on the number of shoes he’s bought you, if he sees a pair that he thinks you’d like, he’ll buy it. No hesitation. When you try to stop him from spending so much on you, he’d look as if you just insulted his bloodline, “If not you, then who else?” And he is quite aware of how stubborn you can get with this, so he threatens to use his money on an unhealthy addiction to get you to fold, “You either let me spoil you, or I could spend it on cigarettes. Your call, Tesoro.”  Of course you gave in, but that didn’t solve your storage problems.

When his friends see how soft he’s gotten for you, they always take the chance to tease him here and there. “Seems like Nott’s gotten soft for his girlfriend. You’re gonna end up on your knees for her at this rate, mate!” Mattheo snickered.

But they didn’t have to know he would quite literally kiss at your feet and thank you for gracing him with your beauty. He wasn’t sure if his current obsession with your feet had something to do with the idea of being submissive for you, or because he enjoyed the way you prettied up a part of you that most don’t show off. Either way he was down bad, and he didn’t care.

©yuunari-arii 2025. All works posted under my name belong to me. Please do not copy, claim, republish, or translate my work anywhere else.

[jq37]

neme(sis)

Summary: The Rat Grinders actually fight the Bad Kids on the Hangman instead of just sending dragons and Adaine has to do some quick thinking.

"Adaine Abernant."

Adaine winced, clutching her head as Raulothim's Psychic Lance pierced her mind. It figured Oisin knew the spell. Raulothim was a dragon after all. She wondered if he learned it in class like her or if he'd come to school already familiar with the spell because of his dragon ancestor who was currently trying to swallow Gorgug, axe and all. She didn't wonder for too long though. There wasn't time.

"See what you can do with access to proper spell components?" Oisin called from the other side of the room, his tone mocking.

"That spell doesn't even have material components!" Adaine called back in spite of herself. Insulting her was one thing but getting basic spellcraft wrong while doing it? Unacceptable. She ignored his expression, smug from getting a rise out of her no doubt, and surveyed the battlefield. The Rat Grinders had caught them on their back foot. Things were going OK but they were playing defense. And no one was where they needed to be. Spellcasters too close to melee, fighters out of range. Only Gorgug was arguably in the right place but he was far too close to being dragon food for her liking. Fabian needed to be closer to the action, Riz needed cover, and she…

Adaine suppressed a smile, idea forming in her mind. She needed to be in punching distance.

"Scatter," she said, raising a hand. Five creatures: Gorgug, Riz, Fabian, Kristen…and Oisin.

Her party members didn't fight the spell, well used to the feeling of her magic working on them mid-battle and knowing that it never meant harm. As she moved them to more advantageous positions, she was hit with a flash of the future: Oisin resisting the spell. She reached out and nudged fate just a bit. Nearby, Ivy walked dangerously close to a breath weapon attack. Oisin startled, moved to grab her, and--pop. Suddenly, he was standing right next to Adaine who was already rearing her fist.

"Counterspell!" Oisin called, runes on his forearms glowing. The expression on his face was even more smug as the blue energy charging on her fist fizzled.

"Predictable," he said.

"Gullible," Adaine thought, halting her fist without following through on the punch and stomping her foot on the ground to activate the teleportation circle they were both now standing on. Because of course the boy with the empty house and unlimited funds would have a teleportation circle installed so he could have his friends over as often as possible. Teleportation via spell needed a willing creature but a Circle? That just needed proximity.

As the spell went off, she concentrated. The benefit of a teleportation circle was that it couldn't go wrong like a normal Teleport spell could. It wasn't supposed to anyway. But any magic could be tweaked if you pushed hard enough. She remembered winding up in the wrong room in the twisted version of Mordred inside Riz's briefcase and concentrated on that feeling. She was sure she was going to have a headache in the morning but that was more than a fair price. She wrenched control of the spell, just enough to force the circle to spit them out a little bit outside of the paired circle in Mordred. There was a flash of light and--forget having a headache tomorrow. Her head felt like it had been bashed in with a pickaxe the moment they landed on the floor of her bedroom. She didn't think she'd be able to get back up for a minute or two--she didn't even try. Oisin didn't seem to have that problem though. He got up and stood over her.

He smirked. "I thought the elven oracle was supposed to be more of a challenge. I knew we'd come out on top but I didn't think it'd be so easy." He raised his hands, readying a spell, but the sparks at his clawtips died as quickly as they were produced. He tried the spell again to the same result, too focused to notice the sudden subtle sheen to the patterns painted on her bedroom walls.

A Sending spell pinged in her mind. "Ten seconds, dear sister."

A smile played on Adaine's lips.

"What?" Oisin demanded.

"Just that you all have been so obsessed with being our nemeses this whole time. But that was never gonna happen with you and me. That position is already filled."

There was another flash of light and before it even cleared, Adaine felt the tingle of magic settling over her like a second skin. Her sister's abjurer's ward extending to cover her reflexively. Just beyond the ward, she could feel the temperature in the room start to drop--a side effect of the Cone of Cold that was about to erupt from Aelwyn's outstretched hands.

"You're familiar with my bitch of a sister, right?"

[r-memberme]

scarf | k.m

⎯⎯“Because I’d rather be cold than watch you shiver.”

warnings: fluff

Klaus Mikaelson did not give things.

He took. He claimed. He possessed.

The world was his for the taking, and he had spent centuries wrapping his fingers around everything he desired—land, power, blood, vengeance. A selfish man by nature, a conqueror by instinct.

And yet.

Tonight, he gave you his scarf.

༊*·˚

It had been an unseasonably cold night, the kind that curled its way into your bones, sharp and relentless. The streets of the city glittered with the aftermath of rain, lamplight catching on the damp pavement like spilled stardust.

You hadn’t dressed for the chill. You never did, stubborn thing that you were, forever underestimating the bite of winter.

You had brushed off his concerns earlier, waving a dismissive hand when he told you to bring a coat. And now?

Now you were shivering.

Klaus noticed, of course.

He always noticed.

You tried to be discreet about it, stuffing your hands into your pockets, hunching your shoulders against the wind. But it was no use. He knew you too well, could read you too easily.

And so, without a word, he unwrapped the scarf from around his neck.

The fabric was soft, the kind of luxury that whispered of old money and old habits. It smelled like him—like cedarwood and aged whiskey, like something ancient and endless.

Before you could protest, he draped it around you, tugging it snugly against your skin.

“Better?” he murmured, voice low, rough with something unreadable.

You blinked up at him, caught off guard. “You—”

“Yes, yes,” he drawled, ever the picture of impatience. “I know. I don’t share.” He tilted his head, eyes gleaming. “And yet, here we are.”

You touched the scarf lightly, fingers brushing over the place where it still held the warmth of his body. “You’ll freeze,” you pointed out, as if he of all people could be affected by the cold.

Klaus huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Darling, I have endured a thousand winters. I think I’ll manage.”

You hesitated. “Why?”

His lips twitched, as if amused by the question.

He could have said it was nothing. That it was simply practical. That it was easier than listening to you complain.

But instead, he leaned in, voice dropping to something softer, something meant just for you.

“Because I’d rather be cold than watch you shiver.”

༊*·˚

Later, you tried to return it.

Of course you did.

You thought you were being clever about it, sneaking into his study and draping the scarf over the back of his chair, thinking he wouldn’t notice.

Foolish.

You might as well have tried to slip something past a wolf’s nose.

Klaus walked in not five minutes later, spotted the scarf immediately, and let out a slow, exaggerated sigh.

“Really, love?”

You feigned innocence. “What?”

He gestured broadly. “This.”

“It’s your scarf,” you reminded him.

“Yes, and I gave it to you.”

“Temporarily.”

“Indefinitely.”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t need it.”

Klaus narrowed his eyes. “Do you truly believe that, or are you just being insufferable for sport?”

“… Bit of both.”

His gaze swept over you, assessing, as if weighing his options. Then, with the kind of dramatic exasperation only he could pull off, he yanked the scarf off the chair, stepped forward, and personally wound it back around your neck.

“There,” he murmured, fingers lingering a second too long against your collarbone. “Problem solved.”

You scowled up at him. “You can’t just decide things like that.”

“I can. I have. I will.”

You sighed, gripping the ends of the scarf. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you adore me.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you.

Klaus smirked, smug as anything. “That’s what I thought.”

༊*·˚

The weeks passed.

And slowly—inevitably—the scarf became yours.

Not in name, not in spoken agreement, but in practice.

It lived in your wardrobe, draped over the back of your chair, wrapped around your shoulders on chilly evenings. It absorbed your scent, carried traces of your perfume, belonged to you as much as anything ever could.

Klaus never asked for it back.

Not once.

And if he looked a little too pleased whenever you wore it?

If his gaze lingered, if his lips curled into something unbearably soft when he caught sight of you wrapped up in it?

Well.

That was his secret to keep.

༊*·˚

One night, as you stood before the fireplace, basking in the warmth, Klaus approached from behind.

You felt him before you saw him, the shift in the air, the way your body recognized his before your mind even caught up.

He reached out, fingers brushing the scarf where it rested against your collarbone.

You turned slightly, meeting his gaze. “What?”

Klaus studied you, eyes flickering with something unreadable. Then, quietly, he said:

“I should have given you something sooner.”

You tilted your head. “You’ve given me plenty.”

He hummed, but shook his head. “Not like this.”

Not freely. Not willingly. Not without expecting something in return.

This—this was different.

You reached up, fingers grazing his.

“Then give me something now.”

Klaus’s breath hitched, so quiet you barely caught it.

His hand slid lower, fingers brushing over your wrist, tracing the lines of your pulse—not to take, not to claim, but simply to feel.

You thought he might kiss you.

Instead, he leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

“I already have.”

And as his arms wound around you, as he buried his face against your hair, as his hold tightened like you were something precious—

You realized he hadn’t just given you his scarf.

He had given you himself.

even more fluff fics <3

[jordanrosenburg]

After watching the “Quiet On Set” documentary, I can’t help but feel like there are literally no good people in the entertainment industry. Even the “good” ones aren’t good. It solidifies that we don’t actually know anything about them. We only know who they present as to the media. 

I think like most people around my age, we grew up watching Nickelodeon during its golden age. I always looked forward to watching “All That” not only because it was funny, but because it was something I could watch with my older siblings. It was something the four of us could laugh together about. My sister and I still laugh over the bit from “Keenan and Kel” where Kel admits to dropping the screw in the tuna. So many iconic characters and television shows were created at the hands of Dan Schneider. 

What else was created at the hands of Dan Schneider were countless acts of abuse, harassment, manipulation, and much more. His sets were homes to child sexual abusers. Adults who are around children each and every day, taking advantage of their trust and innocence, grooming them and harming them physically and mentally. 

It’s not easy for victims of abuse to speak up. Many aren’t believed. Reliving trauma is a horrific experience, so I commend each and every person who shared their story for this docuseries. There were previous cast members who aren’t as well known who got to share their truths, there were crew members sharing stories about Dan’s harassment and sexism on set. There were many crew members that felt uncomfortable about the scenes they were shooting, but no one spoke up. Dan had so much power at Nickelodeon because he kept churning out hit after hit after hit. The parents weren’t much better, but I’ll come back to that. 

The docuseries revealed three adult men who were caught for child pornography, and for sexually abusing children. One man’s name is Brian Peck. He groomed Drake Bell for years. Joe Bell, Drake’s father, did everything he could to keep Brian away from Drake because he knew something just wasn’t right with how Brian acted around his son. Brian eventually convinced Drake to fire his father as his manager, and let his mother take over. This gave Brian the room to drive Drake to and from auditions, take him to Disneyland with him and his friends, and more. Drake Bell revealed in the documentary that Brian Peck sexually assaulted and abused him for years. Since Drake was a minor when it started, his identity was kept secret.

During the trial, many people wrote letters for Brian Peck, attesting to his character: James Marden, Taran Killam, Alan Thicke, Thomas DeSano, Ron Melendez, Rider Strong, and Will Friedle. Some of these names are extremely surprising, and others aren't at all.

Joanna Kerns saying, "there must have been some extreme situation or temptation exerted on him to influence is actions" at the time, and is now saying "I have now learned that my letter of support was based on complete misinformation.

Knowing what I know now, I never would have written the letter". For me, it's not even about her writing the letter, it's about her blaming Drake Bell, the victim, and child in the situation, as if Brian Peck wasn't a grown man who should have known better.

Kimmy Robertson also wrote victim blaming language in her letter of support for Brian Peck.

Rich Correll wrote, "it would be my pleasure to work with him again". And then he did! Brian was allowed to work on The Suite Life! Correll later said, they had no input or involvement in the casting". He also went on to say that, "Mr. Peck simply replied that 'the problem had been solved'".

The series went on from there, explaining how Dan’s behaviors just got worse and worse, and he “flew too close to the sun”. The inappropriate sexual innuendo bits on his shows happened more and more frequently. This included constant closeups on actors’ feet, many of the young female actresses being forced to be squirted in the face with various liquids to represent “money shots”. Ariana Grande probably had it the worst in that she had to film videos that went directly to YouTube, many of which included her biting her own toenails, squeezing a potato until juice squirted out of it, etc. Just absolutely disgusting things that do not make sense for a CHILDREN’S television show. These weren’t jokes for kids. This was Dan Schneider abusing his power, and seeing how much he could get away with. 

It wasn’t until Jeanette McCurdy’s mother died that Nickelodeon finally launched an investigation into Dan Schneider. Jeanette talks about this in her book, “I’m Glad My Mom Died”, which was a heart wrenching read, but well worth it. Jeanette returned to work a WEEK after her mother died from a long battle with cancer. Because of the backlash she got for that, Nickelodeon realized that it was the culture Dan created that probably made Jeanette feel like she had to come back, that she couldn’t take more time off. 

All Nickelodeon did was remove Dan from his sets, and made it so he could only watch from his office and give notes from there. Even though he wasn’t physically on set, the toxic and hostile environment was still alive and well because he was still watching everyone’s every move. 

Thanks to #MeToo, more and more women started speaking up about their experiences on set with Dan Schneider. And then in 2018 Nickelodeon finally kicked Dan Schneider to the curb after launching another investigation based off the new claims. The investigation didn't reveal proof of sexual abuse, but it revealed more cases of harassment of his actors and his crews.

Child stars are often made fun of and exploited by the media as they transition into adulthood. We watch their mental health decline until they’re caught having a breakdown. People point and laugh, and say it’s just another child star who couldn’t handle life as a grown up. But what I think a lot of people don’t understand is that many child stars are forced into the entertainment business. Parents put their financial burdens on their children, tell them they need to work to support the family. That’s a lot of pressure to put on a child. So, if something bad is happening on a set, a kid is going to be too afraid to speak up because they could be fired, and if they’re fired, then they’re not making money for their families. The parents are supposed to be on set and with the kids at all times. But so many turn the other cheek and don’t speak up because they don’t want to risk their kids getting fired. 

It just feels like no adults, not even the ones you’re meant to trust, are safe to be around. In some way, shape, or form these kids get abused. Whether it’s sexual abuse, racism, inflicted eating disorders, or other types of mental abuse, they’re not safe. No one is looking out for them. Everyone is more concerned with making money. 

The entertainment industry squeezes the youth dry and tosses them aside when they can’t legally control them anymore. And we wonder why so many of them have a tough time later on in life. The lucky ones are helped through therapy, and the not so lucky ones either turn up dead, broke, abused, or end up abusing others as they were abused. 

I am feeling very sad and heartbroken. And I’m not sure where to go from here. So many of these shows have brought me comfort and laughs over the years. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to enjoy them again. Is it okay to sit and watch reruns or should we be boycotting everything? I want to help in the ways that I can, but I also know that the world will stop caring about this in a week or so when the next big truth bomb about something else is dropped. 

People who have no moral conscious, people who are okay letting children be hurt for the sake of their own wallets shouldn’t have any power. And I hope everyone involved in hurting these kids, past and present, is forced to answer for what they did. I hope they’re shamed and cancelled and doxxed and everything else bad that can happen to people like them. I hope they go broke and become ruined. And at this point, I hope Nickelodeon just crashes and burns. They don’t deserve any salvation. 

[fantasyescapes17]

Wings (Part 5, Final)

Your debut in society was as spectacular as one could be, but nobody had prepared you for what came afterward. When you find yourself overwhelmed during your very first season and unable to keep up with the rat race to secure yourself an eligible husband, a curious mentor appears- in the form of notorious flirt and self-proclaimed rake, Mr. Kim Mingyu.

Genre: Mingyu x Female!reader. Regency!AU. You are Jeonghan's sibling so your last name is Yoon but the reader has no other physical characteristics.

Warnings: smoking (don't smoke kids, the characters in this story are from a time when they didn't know how bad it was for their health)

Word Count: 4.5k+

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Series Masterlist [You WILL need to read Patience, the earlier installment in this series first in order to understand the character dynamics in this story. Reading Candle before this is also strongly recommended.]

You had attended a handful of weddings in your life, but nothing could ever compare to your sister’s wedding to Mr. Choi. It was not the most lavish or spectacular event of the year. It was a simple ceremony in your local church with hardly twenty people in attendance. 

But no amount of decor or grandeur could have compensated for the utter devotion in the bride and groom’s eyes. The longing, the respect, the unconditional trust they both shared was too large to be contained within themselves. Their love was no game. It was an unavoidable truth. Every single person in the church felt it. Even, to an extent, your mother, who watched the ceremony in silence and did not make any attempt to ruin it. 

By the time the bride and groom departed for their long-awaited honeymoon, your handkerchief was soaked through with your tears.

“I think this has been an emotional week for all of us,” Jeonghan said to you as you both left the church. His voice was steady but you could see the mistiness in his eyes. “A lot of people were involved in making this wedding possible- not least of all, you.” 

You smiled up at your brother. “They had suffered long enough.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “And your suffering?”

You turned away from him quickly, sensing the approach of a topic that you did not wish to discuss. “I must find Jiwoo-” 

“No. Jiwoo is perfectly fine, he is with his governess,” your brother told you firmly, determined not to allow you to escape. “I am not an idiot, sister. I have given up attempting to find out exactly what occurred between yourself and Mr. Kim but my acquaintances tell me that he is on a journey across the English countryside and has been drinking every inn and tavern in his path dry.” 

You flinched at the mention of Mr. Kim. You had been avoiding any news of him; you did not want to even think about the man. 

“Unfortunate,” you said coldly. “Perhaps someone should intervene.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “So you have no intention of intervening yourself?” 

You stared at your brother in disbelief. “And what exactly do you expect me to do, Jeonghan? Do you consider me responsible for Mr. Kim’s health? Should I be following him around taverns and begging him not to imbibe? Please tell me how I could possibly prevent a fully grown gentleman from making poor choices with his time and money.” 

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “I expect nothing from you. But when you react so strongly to a simple suggestion, it makes it difficult for me to believe that nothing occurred back in London.” 

“I do not wish to talk about it-”

“You must at least tell me what he did-” 

“No, I must not. I love you, brother; but please, stop this line of inquiry.” 

Jeonghan’s jaw clenched. It was not anger- he was simply frustrated, being too used to single-handedly solving the family’s problems. Having been left in the dark was difficult for him, but it was not enough to convince you to talk to him about your experiences in London. 

You wanted to put them far, far behind you. 

“Jiwoo!” you called out to the young boy. He was walking with his elderly governess, looking rather tired and sleepy. “You look quite exhausted; shall we go home?” you turned to his governess with a smile. “I can take Jiwoo from here. Mr. Choi would have informed you that he will be staying with me at the Yoon estate until the couple are back from their honeymoon.” 

The governess nodded and handed Jiwoo over to you. “Of course, my lady.” 

Jiwoo blinked up at you. “When will father be back?” 

“In a week,” you promised him. “But we shall have lots of fun together until then. Are you excited?” 

Jiwoo grinned up at you, looking a little more awake. “Yes.” 

“Come along, then- the carriage is waiting for us. Let us go home.” 

Jeonghan and your sister-in-law were still conversing with other wedding guests near the church so you went ahead and climbed into the carriage with Jiwoo. The carriage could double back for the others- the church was only a few minutes from the manor. Jiwoo cheerfully told you about his studies and his new pet frog, Bernard during the short carriage ride to the Yoon estate. 

You sensed that something was wrong as soon as the carriage door opened. There was a strange horse munching on the immaculate lawns near the manor entrance, and a servant-maid came running up to you, looking somewhat agitated. 

“Miss Yoon,” the maid said hurriedly. “Mr. Kim Mingyu arrived earlier this morning. I tried to tell him that everyone was at the wedding, but he insisted on waiting in the drawing room! He said he wanted to speak to you in particular, and I did not know if that was appropriate-” 

You took a deep breath. Your chest felt tight. You had known that you would have to face Mr. Kim Mingyu again, but you were not prepared for it to be right after your sister’s wedding while your emotions were still raw. You had expected that you would have more time to prepare for that particular encounter. 

Then again- Mr. Kim had never been so easily predictable. 

“I will handle it,” you told the maid calmly. “Please take Jiwoo upstairs. He is quite tired from the wedding, I am sure he could use a nap.” 

The maid took the young boy away and you allowed yourself a brief moment to regain your composure before walking into the drawing room. 

Mr. Kim was seated in an armchair, but he leapt to his feet as soon as you entered the room. He looked almost worse than he had the last time you saw him in London. He did not reek of whisky anymore but his bloodshot eyes, pale face and dry lips told you that his last drink had not been very long ago. Mr. Kim's handsome face was marred by fear, and his dark eyes looked anxious.

“Miss Yoon-”

“Mr. Kim,” you greeted him coldly. “I must assume that you were not aware of my sister’s wedding or you would surely have not come while the family was busy celebrating an event that you were not invited to.” 

Mr. Kim stared at you for a long moment in absolute silence. His hands were shaking and he bowed his head. 

“I-I was not aware of your sister’s wedding, allow me to offer my congratulations,” he said finally.

“The couple has already left for their honeymoon. You are too late to congratulate them.” 

“Ah.” 

“Was there a reason behind this unexpected visit?” you demanded. 

“I-I had to speak to you.” 

“Then speak.” 

There was a long silence that ensued. Your heart was beating at an unnatural rate. You could see the agony in every inch of Mr. Kim’s posture and as he bit his lip and ran his fingers through his hair. A part of you- the part of you that had fallen in love with him- ached to see him like this. But there was another part of you that remembered your own wounds and pain, and swiftly suppressed any sympathy that you could feel for him. 

The large grandfather clock in the corner of the room was ticking loudly. 

“Do you have anything to say?” you asked after an entire minute had gone by. “Or is it your intention to make me wait in silence all afternoon?” 

Mr. Kim cleared his throat. He was avoiding your gaze. “I am sorry. I-I had planned what to say to you, but somehow the words felt…” 

“Empty? Rehearsed?” you demanded. “Or perhaps you thought that your mere presence would be enough to move me, and that words were not necessary? Was it not you who taught me some vacuous nonsense about the art of silence?” 

He looked pained. “No, of course not-” 

“If you are struggling to find something to say, Mr. Kim, then allow me to spare you the effort. There is nothing that you could say that would ever make me forgive you."

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, wide and horrified. "Please don't say that-"

"I am not in the habit of lying."

"I am not here to lie to you," he insisted hotly. 

You clenched your fists and glared at him, almost challenging him to try and manipulate you again. 

"Then go on, Mr. Kim. Prove that you are not merely the rake that the world sees you as. Say one thing to me that is not some attempt to contrive or manipulate me. A single sentence that is not rehearsed, and that truly comes from your heart."

Mr. Kim took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. "I-I have been thinking about what I said to you, and-"

"No, try again," you said coldly. 

"I never meant to hurt you-"

"That is clearly a lie. Try again."

His face was beginning to turn red. "I was overwhelmed by my emotions and-"

"Excuses, excuses."

"I love you!" he burst out finally. His face was red and he was breathing heavily. "I love you, Miss Yoon, I love you so much that I cannot contain these emotions inside of my heart and this love overwhelms my thoughts, feelings, self-respect and every rational part of my mind. I love you more than I have ever loved anything in this world."

The confession was loaded. It hit you like a train- even you could not maintain your strong facade in the face of those heated words and Mr. Kim's dark, passionate gaze. 

"The right words," you said quietly, your voice cracking. "If only you had said them two weeks ago."

Mr. Kim's shoulders fell. 

"I know that I have no right to stand before you like this," he said passionately. Mr. Kim stepped closer to you and reached for your hands, grasping them tightly. "I have been a monster. I have hurt you and manipulated you, and wronged you. I am sorry."

You pulled your hands away from him sharply. 

"A simple apology cannot fix this mess, Mr. Kim."

"I know-"

"This is not some unintended mistake. You did not step on my foot or mispronounce my name. No- you manipulated me and played with my emotions over a period of months. Was any of it real? Or was it all a game to you?" you asked, your voice cracking. 

He looked torn. "It started as a game- I was so used to the thrill of the seduction. I saw a chance to woo the reputed Miss Yoon. The belle of the ball, the jewel of the ton, the most sought-after young debutante of the season, it was just such a tempting challenge…"

You felt sick. "Of course. It was a game to you. As I was warned so many times by everyone around me- I was young and naive, the ripe target for a rake."

He stepped away from you and took a deep breath. 

"There was a thrill," he admitted shamefully. "In getting to know you and discovering the little things about you, your vulnerabilities and strengths, how I could use them to make you fall in love with me. I showed you a side of me that I hoped you would fall for."

You said nothing. 

"But I never meant to hurt you," he insisted hotly. "You are blinded by your insecurities so you don't see certain things… I don't think you're aware of how beautiful and desirable you are. The whole ton was in love with you. You were the season's jewel, renowned for your beauty and approved by the Queen herself. It was a competition for your heart. You had so many suitors, and you could have had any bachelor you chose in a heartbeat. I never really expected you to fall in love with me. I thought you would marry someone else by the end of the season as you'd planned and it was a game, a harmless little game…"

"Harmless?" you demanded angrily. "Harmless for who, Mr. Kim?"

"I was wrong," he insisted. His face was red and he had turned away from you to pace the room. "I did not see that you were falling in love, I did not realise how dangerous my own feelings for you were becoming. Until the day we kissed in the gallery and I was forced to accept that this game had gone too far and gotten completely, utterly out of hand…"

You said nothing. Your throat felt heavy and you swallowed. 

Mr. Kim came over to you suddenly. He kneeled in front of you and his dark eyes met yours. You could see the pain, the love, the emotion that bubbled underneath the surface of his gaze.

"I made a mistake," he whispered. "Many mistakes. But I love you. I need you in my life. Nobody else- nothing else in this world can make me as happy as you make me. That is my truth."

You looked down at him. "And me?" you whispered. "How am I to be happy, Mingyu?"

"I will do anything in my power to make you happy," he promised vehemently. 

You shook your head. It was not enough. It would never be enough. Declarations of love and words of affection were quick to sway but you had been manipulated by this man before. You loved him- loved him with your entire heart but it was not enough. 

"I watched my sister getting married today," you told him shakily. "Do you know how long she and Mr. Choi have been waiting to marry?"

Mr. Kim blinked. "A few years?"

"Almost five years. My sister gave up her prime years in society for him, destroyed all her other prospects and waited for so long. I never understood how she could take that risk and wait so patiently for him without a shred of regret. I think I finally understood it today. That feeling they share… it's something more than just love, Mingyu."

He waited silently for you to continue. 

"It's trust," you finished. "And it doesn't matter how much I love you, because my trust in you is broken."

He recoiled as though you had slapped him. 

"Of course," he said quietly. "I understand."

"Then we are done here."

"No," he said firmly. "No, we are not done. I have not come here to give up so easily. If I have broken your trust then I will repair it. Even if it takes a year, or five or ten…"

You shook your head. "You can't be serious."

"I will prove to you that what we share is nothing less than what your sister shares with Mr. Choi," he promised. "I will wait until your trust in me is restored, I will show you the parts of me I was too ashamed to show you before. I will fix this."

You swallowed. "A bold promise."

"I know you don't believe me," he said quietly. "You do not need to. I will prove it to you."

"You can't-"

"I will," Mr. Kim said firmly. "I will tell you and show you how much I love you every single day until you choose to believe it."

"And if that day never comes?"

"Then let them engrave it on my tombstone."

You shook your head in disbelief. "Mingyu, really…"

"I love you."

—------------------------------------------------------

Joenghan was confused and wary when he discovered Mr. Kim had arrived uninvited during the wedding. But  since nobody would tell him exactly what was happening, he hesitantly extended an invitation to Mr. Kim to stay at the Yoon estate as long as he was in town. Mr. Kim accepted gratefully. 

You awoke the next morning to the sound of loud laughter; Mr. Kim was teaching Jiwoo how to ride a pony in the gardens. You quickly dressed and went downstairs to tell them to be quiet, and that it was far too early to be waking up the entire town. 

"Look; I am riding!" Jiwoo cried excitedly as he managed to control the pony without help. You could not resist a smile. 

"I see you and Jiwoo are having fun," you said to Mr. Kim drily. 

Mr. Kim smiled. "You speak of Jiwoo often; I thought befriending him might be useful. He promised to do anything for me if I taught him to ride one of the ponies, so I am simply keeping my promise."

You stared at him in disbelief. "And this does not seem manipulative to you?"

"It's hardly manipulative when I am being completely honest about what I am doing," Mr. Kim protested with a charming smile. "I do have to use some methods to win your heart, my dear Miss Yoon. I cannot simply sit here and expect my handsome face to do all the work."

"So this is your new tactic?" you demanded. "You will tell me what you are doing as you attempt to manipulate me?"

"One might call that honesty."

"One might call it brazen shamelessness."

"Call it what you will," he replied lightly. "I believe the arrangement benefits everyone involved. Jiwoo! Come back here!"

Jiwoo rode the pony back and dismounted before running over to you. Mr. Kim quickly took the pony's reins and calmed it down. 

"Did you see me riding Chocolate?" Jiwoo asked excitedly. 

You smiled at the boy. "I did. You did an excellent job! You must be very hungry after all that riding. Go inside and have breakfast- I will join you in a moment."

Jiwoo nodded before reaching into his pocket. 

"Mr. Kim asked me to give you this," the boy added before running away. 

You unfolded the sheet of paper that Jiwoo handed you. You were not sure what you had been expecting- but certainly not the words 'I love you' scrawled in Mr. Kim's familiar penmanship. You went over to him and raised an eyebrow.

"What is this?" you asked him. 

Mr. Kim blinked. "A love letter."

"Rather low effort, don't you think?" you asked. 

He chuckled. "Well, I had no choice. You are already familiar with all my flowery prose and poetry- you have my notes on the subject. I was worried you would see anything taken from there as ingenuine; therefore, I have chosen the path of simplicity and honesty."

You could not bite back your smile. "I see."

Mr. Kim turned his attention away from you and gave the pony an apple that he was carrying in his pocket. "I thought it would be best to befriend Chocolate the pony as well, seeing as he is one of your happiest memories. Luckily he is not much harder to sway than Jiwoo- he just needs a few apples."

"Don't overfeed him," you warned. 

"I will be careful. Let me put him back in the stables and then I will join you for breakfast. Speaking of which…"

You looked at him. "What?"

"That stableboy of yours doesn't still work here, does he?"

Your eyes widened in horror. "Mr. Kim!" you scolded him, appalled.

He grinned. "All right, all right. I had to ask."

"Unbelievable."

Perhaps it was because you knew how weak Mr. Kim made you,  you tried harder than necessary to resist his ensuing attempts to win your trust back. You were not going to make it easy for him to hurt you again. 

Your heart was already his- there was never a moment where it belonged to anybody but Mingyu. But your head was cautious, suspicious, ever-doubting his words and actions and intentions. 

Mr. Kim spent most of the winter either at the Yoon estate or nearby. He was always near you- his attention devoted to you, hanging onto your every word and making small gestures to win your heart. It soon became clear to your entire family that Mr. Kim Mingyu was desperately trying to woo you. Even once he returned to his own estate, he wrote long letters to you multiple times a week. 

Then came the season. 

—-------------------------------------------------------

Your second London season was far less exciting, but far more enjoyable than your first had been. The absence of your mother (she had chosen to stay in the countryside) and your newfound confidence made things easier and less stressful.

There was also a new set of nervous, pretty young debutantes for the ton to fawn over. You were not surprised to find yourself no longer one of the most desired young ladies of the ton. But Mr. Kim was not deterred. He continued to court you openly and while he was around, it was difficult not to feel like the most beautiful woman in the room. 

Mr. Kim was determined to make you fall in love with him all over again, and he succeeded. He accompanied you to every ball, promenaded with you when the weather was nice, and made it known to the ton that Mr. Kim was no longer a rake- he was now a much reformed man in love. 

He also showed you things that he claimed he would never have shown anyone else. One interesting evening was spent with both of you going over his finances, where you discovered just how much money Mr. Kim had invested in his art gallery, and how much he had lost over cards to your brother. 

"You do have a gambling problem," you scolded him. "No more cards for you, Mr. Kim."

He proceeded to sit miserably and empty-handed at the edge of the card tables in the assembly room for the next week, until you finally told him that you did not mind him playing a little. He was promptly made fun of by some of the other gentlemen but it did not seem to bother him- he only beamed at you across the room as they laughed about how you were not even married and controlled his finances already. 

As the weeks and months passed, you fell in love with Mr. Kim a second time. It was the same, and yet also different. 

He was still an excellent dancer, a charmer and could still make your heart skip a beat with his playful smile and dark twinkling eyes. But this Mr. Kim was more clumsy, more honest and less sure of himself than the suave rake you had fallen for the previous season. 

You were now privy to the less perfect sides of Mr. Kim. His frustration that the art gallery was not doing as well as he had hoped, his gambling habit, the hesitation that sometimes appeared in his eyes when he was unsure of himself. He confided in you about the struggles he had faced when his parents passed away while he was still young. You fell more in love with him when he shared these parts of him with you. 

The Mr. Kim you had initially loved was only an image, a small slice of the Kim Mingyu you had now grown to love and understand and even trust. 

"So," he said to you one evening as you both shared a Cuban cigar on the balcony of the Duchess of Graham's manor. There was a large celebration happening inside that you had both snuck away from. "We find ourselves back on this fateful balcony where we first met."

You smirked up at him and snatched the cigar from his fingers before taking a drag. "You mean where you found me crying on the floor."

Mr. Kim shrugged. "I didn't want to bring it up…"

"I think I've changed a lot since then."

"You have," he said quietly. He gave you a small smile. "I know I only made things more difficult and it's not my place to say, but… I am proud of you."

You bit your lip. "I am proud of myself too."

"Good," he said with a nod. 

"But I should probably stop smoking."

"Probably."

"Shall we quit together?" you asked him. "We've only been doing this as a way to spend time with each other, and I think we are rather past needing to find excuses to be alone together."

Mr. Kim looked amused as you put out the cigar on the railing. 

"If you think we should quit, then I am not going to argue," he said lightly. 

You nodded and hummed. "And perhaps we should stop meeting on other people's balconies like this."

"Now you are making me worry."

You reached into your pocket and pulled out a small book- it had been entrusted to you by Miss Ella Williams, who had gifted it to you for your use since you were one of her few unmarried friends. You showed Mr. Kim the pages with his name and the lengthy list of ladies he had courted. 

He winced. "I feel a sudden urge to defend myself by pointing out that yours is the last name on that list- but I am sure you would not be standing here if it wasn't."

You giggled. "True," you said. 

Then with a swift move, you ripped Kim Mingyu's page out of the book and pressed the end of your cigar against the page to light it on fire. The paper smouldered and slowly burned into a small pile of ash. 

Mr. Kim was watching you closely with his dark eyes. 

"I am scared to ask why you just burned my page," he said warily. "Should I be worried?"

"This book will probably get passed onto one of the newer debutantes," you replied simply. "Not only is the information outdated, I wouldn't want any of them to think you were an available bachelor."

The corner of his lips curved upwards. "I see. I take it that I am no longer an available bachelor then."

"Are you?" you challenged him. 

"Absolutely not."

You kissed him. Mr. Kim stumbled backwards in surprise but his back hit the balcony railing and he embraced you firmly before returning the kiss. His lips were clumsy yet eager as they covered yours and one of his hands slid into your hair. 

"Marry me," he whispered hotly against your lips as you pressed your body against his. He seized your waist and held you tightly as he whispered again, pushing you for a response. "Marry me, please."

You pressed your forehead against his and nodded, breath mingling as your own fingers slid into his hair and caressed his neck. 

"Yes-yes, of course-"

"Come closer, my love-"

The door to the balcony opened suddenly. You pulled back- but Mr. Kim's arm stayed around your waist and you could only turn awkwardly in his grasp to see who had discovered you. 

It was the Duke of Graham, eyes wide and his ears turning red as he realised what he had walked into. 

"W-we're engaged," you blurted out quickly, in explanation and a desperate attempt to convince the Duke of Graham, a man you had never even met, that you were not creating a scandal in his home. You could hear a small chuckle from Mr. Kim over your shoulder. 

"All right…" the Duke said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Erm, Congratulations?"

Oh god. 

—----------------------------------------------------

[khrayton]

Please read.

All the problems in America originate in giving the power to push laws to corporations.

The reason why farmers can't replant the seeds from their harvests.

The reason why all cities in America have to be built around cars.

The reason of the housing crisis.

The reason why Healthcare companies can simply deny all claims and get away with it.

The reason why companies are pushing AI to have copyright despise being built without the consent of thousands of artists

The reason why Tesla can get away with selling the cyber truck despise being the most poorly designed most dangerous vehicle which by the way, can't be sell outside the US.

The reason of the unnecessary complications of paying taxes.

The reason why Billonaries don't pay taxes.

The reason why we have to deal with a useless middle man taking all of our money in taxes, healthcare, etc.

They own the system WE use to prevent those things from happening, they push the people they want into the system, they push the laws they want into the system to work with.

Do you know the legend of the Gordian knot?

"Whoever could untie it would be destined to rule all of Asia"

The one capable of untie the complex knot of the human rule of power…

But that's not what the legend is about isn't? The legend talks about Alexander the great, who rater to attempt untie this complex of human connections he decided to draw his sword and cut it out.

If we are not able to solve this problem with our mind then the sword will.

Best case scenario we somehow unite and get out companies to make laws and we take down the laws those same companies have made.

I don't believe is possible for us to fix America using the system those companies own, we can't untie this Gordian knot of problems, human relationships, of professions, of whole companies. If they don't cooperate then we will be force to use the sword, and I don't know if we will survive a fight against them.

People are confuse, homeless, sick. Individualism have taken over so many people because we are drowning in on our problems and we are alone trying to fix them.

We surpass them a thousand to one yet we are incapable of uniting, we are scared of violence and the consequences of it, but at this point things are only going to get worse. If we don't act quickly then wen violence become the only solution, it will be worse, so much worse…

Go outside, talk about this problem, join forces with others, make it fun, make it something to be proud of, we revel against a broken system and if you don't hear our demand then you will a victim of them, make music about it, share food on it, today on age we live in a world with so many distractions, we seek immediate satisfaction, so lets bring that satisfaction to help us fix the problem.

Luigi (allegedly, innocent until proven guilty) remind us that Billionaires and CEO's are people like us with names and addresses

How many people will be enough to trash one of those companies places so the police can't deal with it? They are protecting them, not us, lets change that, convince them, they receive orders, many from one…

The problem of many is also your problem, and you can do so much about it.

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

I’m neither republican or democrat but I hold views of both sides to some extent. That being said, I think democrats needs to stop being so eager to let any and everyone in this country. America first. I am pro choice and for higher wages and better parental leave. But as a republican, what do you think can be done to have more affordable housing and better healthcare such as more affordable insurance?

Get the government out of the economy.

Obviously these are complicated issues that need nuanced solutions, but to try and put it simply, most every economic problem we have right now is caused, at least in part, by overregulation, overtaxation, a worthless fiat currency, a fed that floods the market with money at the whim of politicians thereby devaluing the currency even more and other, similar, issues. One of the main reasons it costs so much to live in certain places is because of taxes. One of the main reasons healthcare costs are so high is because the government protects insurance companies from both failure and competition.

There's a scene in Independence Day where, I believe it was Jeff Goldblum's character, asks how the government funds Area 51. His father answers "What, you don't think they're spending $20,000 on a hammer, $30,000 on a toilet seat, do you?" but that's kind of exactly how health insurance works in this country. The prices for services and equipment are massively inflated, because insurance companies can afford to pay $30,000 for a toilet seat. And because a toilet seat now costs $30,000 dollars, the regular Joe working 9-5 needs insurance if he wants to use that bathroom. But in order to get that insurance, he needs to pay a certain amount every month until he needs to use it, with no guarantee that he'll ever have to use it. So over the course of his life, he ends up paying a lot more than $30,000 for a toilet seat he'll probably never use. And because 330 million people are all paying for insurance, those insurance companies can afford a lot of toilet seats that most people are never going to use. So where does the rest of that money go? Into the pockets of politicians who make sure that the scam the insurance companies and the hospitals have going on is all nice and legal. But it's unethical. And more than that, it's unsustainable. The whole thing will come crashing down at some point. To avoid that, we need to start dismantling it piece by piece. Get back to the way things were before insurance when people could pay out of pocket for almost all the medical care they'd need.

As for the economy as a whole, eliminate most taxes completely, lower the taxes that remain significantly, slash all regulations that hinder small businesses from competing in a market dominated by politically connected multinational corporations, kill the last vestiges of Obamacare, gut the welfare state, bring back the gold standard, stop all foreign aid that doesn't directly benefit this country and its citizens, and you'll start to see massive improvements in nearly all aspects of society.

None of this will be easy. Most likely, it will never get done until the whole system collapses under its own weight. But everything I mention is possible. It's not a pipedream, like perfect communism or anarchism magically springing into existence and solving all our problems.

[offshore-brinicle]

That was one hell of a part 2 good lordy. I have SO many thoughts but I cannot put all into words for now, here's some though.

Dante is being real quiet [sus especially after how much they talked in canto 5, plus how they seemed seemed realise that they need to actually take part in helping the sinners proper] and they are [seemingly] the only sinner one could connect to Carmen [literally all of the chirstian symbolism, the way the static on her appearances was similar to the static Dante has seen on AFD and their overheating, the fact she seemed to speak through them at that point]. I am probably just reading into things but after the whiplash of how much they usually talk - internally and externally - I am very much getting a sinking feeling something's wrong.

Basements are evil. Hong Lu is rich enough to have a basement in his houses. He will probably have an evil basement. I would bet money on this, especially if its a sort of 'other world' as alluded to in his book (that I have not read. It does mention a Land of Illusion if i recall, however, so possibly a door to that). Bonus points if it ends up being upside down or smth.

Would the 'chaotic' part of the golden bough ( of 'em at least) have any sorta relation to why we Heath's E.G.O seemed unstable? I know most of the other distortions/E.G.O awakenings happened near boughs - which connects to the theory that they are directly related to Carmen and thus allow her to talk to people more easily like with the monolith - either Dante's fragment or a full one, but the specific mention of a chaotic one could mean it's responsible for Bodysack seeming to have corroded, as one can see the warning labels typical of a corroding E.G.O.

Given Faust's change in behaviour - namely stuttering for what I believe to be the first time - regarding the conversations around the 'creation of humans' I do believe this was how she was made. Yi Sang did say he made the tech used within the pods in that very basement, and the fact that he was the first recruit could mean that the Faust who approached him is not the same Faust on the bus. The idea of her being a metric fucktonna ID's layered on top of each other firstly explains the Council of Fausts theory, wherein she is able to talk to other versions of herself, in this case because that's what she is, as well as what Dante says about her looking somewhere else before answering. Mirrors alter perception, so her looking at a different Faust for answers could explain that as well. Work's too with her base E.G.O, wherein three shadows seem to point out an answer on her wall of notes. She has all the knowledge, she just needs her other selves to point it out when needed - thus her evasive attitude when it comes to answers, she needs time to get it pointed out.

On that note, do you think her attitude in Selva Obscura is a reflection of og!Faust, but she drops the act later on once Dante has fully forgotten their past? She doesn't really get that jokey after that.

Like how the middle seemed to be the antithesis of Ishmael in C5 part 2, the ring seems to be Heath's. The middle represented how Ishy as a person was mostly incompatibility with 'the bit', in the form of a situation that is remarkably silly on paper but ended up in near total annihilation of the group. The ring may represent how some may look for deeper meanings in all things from arts to people, which clashes wickedly against Heathcliff's more straightforward approach when it comes to handling situations. The dredges of the ring are those parts of him that overthink and he solves the problem as simply as he's been solving many others.

Cathy in a Coffin reminds me of when Carmen was content enough to haunt the narrative from her Bucket. Nothing else to say here except for the fact it's funny.

But back to Carmen, and more particularly 'fate' regarding distortions. The theme of denying of what 'should've happened' is a decently big theme of limbus - from the rewinding death to even subverting what happens from any literary source material - so if they end up going 'Carmen no Carming' to her later on, defying someone who seems to be as much of a god-like entity as the Head in some ways, I would not be surprised if we either get a visit from Iori, one of Demian's lot or another Lo9 member - x or current. Additionally, defying fate may just be what brings back Heathcliff from the edge, keeping Cathy alive in this mirror world but presumably in a weird weirdass way. My guess is that she distorts and gets nabbed by LCD - but I also just wanna see Moses so.

Also hey what happened to the seven strikes of lightning. Are they gonna be in Heath's distortion dungeon or something? No clue.

And I think that's it. Gonna stare at a wall for a while now methinks

OK SO FIRST UP THERE ARE A LOT OF THINGS HERE SO I'LL TRY TO ANSWER TO THESE CONCISELY

Now that you mentioned it, it was always very strange how Faust is Number 2 despite being there first and her mugshot having already been in uniform, so now that you mention her different attitude in the Prologue I honestly see a lot to what you are bringing up here. It was always a personal theory of mine that Faust's real "Mephistopheles" was Sang Yi or Yi Sang somehow, since Sang Yi still to seems to be a rather...odd entity that doesn't correspond to any particular mirror world and is implied by Yi Sang to have some degree of omniscience (and there's also that marked part in the dungeon where he "mysteriously dissapeared" for some time with no explanation), so she might have gotten Yi Sang to do the procedure that would give her this infinite knowledge, specially since even Yi Sang himself emphasizes on her having been "gifted" with omniscience, I Highly doubt he's being figurative here, even more with her EGO's background being the shadows of multiple people.

In regards to Dante not speaking I think it's simply because of the difference in situation, unlike Ishmael who was very clearly out of control due to her own mindset, Heathcliff is being driven over the edge by circumstance -- and some quite insane circumstances at that, so it might be why they could not intervene, but hopefully they'll step up when we get to the next part, specially since we'll be dealing with Distorted Heathcliff....and also, it's very interesting that we actually got Heathcliff's POV on how it felt to Distort. It might be Dante's connection to Carmen and The Sinners aligning at once.

And also, Catherine is def a Carmen expy (I actually did my own analysis some time ago in similarities Kromer, Ahab and Dongbaek had with Carmen too but this one is the most. Insanely explicit similarity) and the fact that she speaks to "Welcome Heathcliff home" at the very end in her own voice alongside Carmen...I can't help but feel she might have been planning to get Heathcliff to Distort all along as part of her personal plan that they can be together happy in Hell. The Overclocking symptoms seem to have been an indicator of Heathcliff approaching Distortion, I really like how...drastically different it feels from the awakened Crow's Eye View and Snagharpoon, and just in general how they completely threw the formula that had been built up until now out of the window (heh)

Either way, thanks for shooting me a message! It's always fun to get to hear other people's observations and theories and share my own two cents along the way

Edit: I forgor but frankly if Hong Lu has yet another Creepy Rich Person basement I think I'll bash my head against the wall. The real moral of Limbus is that basements are bad and evil. Sorry there are just So many good observations here and I'm a bit scatterbrained at times shfhh

In regards to the "fate" thing, I feel like that will be a big part of dealing with Heathcliff next part, Limbus Company as a game and story is built on the reimaginings or "what ifs" or classics, and we've seen it with Yi Sang that his ending was changed in the end; the original Yi Sang died and the protagonist of The Wings commits suicide, but he rejected all of that, while Ishmael was on her path to repeat the cycle of the story of Moby Dick but thanks to Dante and Heathcliff she rejected that as well. And the title of "Clear All Cathy" really establishes from the first moment the goal this time. We'll have to wait another week to see how it rolls.

[sourcreammachine]

i love how the self-titled Effective Altruists and cuntbags like musk believe that the “demographic crisis” of the 21st century is like a massive insane problem that we need to solve by farting out babies 24/7, as they said in that recent Kurzgesagt propaganda video they produced

it is capitalism that’s the problem, again. growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of a cancer cell. we ‘grow’ when we produce more, and our investments are based around potential growths rather than what is needed - so when alleged ‘potential’ can’t materialise, the economy collapses

we will be able to produce less when there will be less workers. future spacex neuralink hyperloop tech might soften the blow but won’t be able to change that fact

this is coming towards capitalism like a high-speed train. most executives are essentially wagies visàvis their positions as gods of the world, so systemically cannot respond to a problem more than twenty years ahead of time. but oligarchs like musk and formerly bankman-fried, with their oligarchic status seemingly made permanent (lol), become weird nutters who’ve given themselves messiah complexes about “solving” it. we must increase production always at all costs, so we must increase babies at all costs

growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of a cancer cell. the economy is going to shrink and we must not let this cause a world-eating depression under capitalism. we have to accept that we’re peaking, stop investing resources into growth and start investing resources into efficiency, systemic resilience, and services, and drop dead-weight unsustainable overproduction that’s killing the planet. stop even trying to grow the economy during a period of global decline - the global Very Long Boom and global Baby Boom gave a economic dividend that must be repaid

socialistic economics, redistribution, and economic democracy can let this pressure. we have to do managed decline, work towards working better with less workers and less labour, and support untold masses of pensioners. capitalism simply cannot do this. if under capitalism the economy was recessing massively, but don’t worry, in many years the ageing recession will cease and growth should resume with stability - investment simply will not go towards what is needed to improve life under the status quo and will be hedged until growth resumes, and so nothing good will ever come

that’s why the so-called “effective altruists” and muskists are so bothered about preventing what they see as demographic collapse - should it occur it’ll wreak a huge economic recession, be it slow or as a crash, and lead to a world of impoverished pensioners starving on the street. so their solution is babies at all costs, when instead we could have a world where a period of managed decline spurs reinvestment in what we have, a silver age of planet earth, a global new deal beyond measure. and when the massive wave of pensioners dies, we will have good services and sustainable economics, and enriched communities with fruitful childhoods and good educations, and yeah, we can use our growth potential to not just prevent environmental destruction (capitalism’ll’ve already triggered a lot) but do our level headed best to fix it, become the stewards of Earth that we’re abdicating ourselves as, and fuck it, have enough money to reshape the world into a happy and good place to live a life

but capitalism cannot do that. because capitalism cannot accept decline. because capitalism must have growth at any costs, and will continue to beat the dead horse until the skies darken with soot and until the baby boomers who built the longest boom are left to rot without care or food and their children are enslaved to keep the fires burning. and to bring back the boom times, it must be babies at any cost

footnote: this was mostly about economics but there’s one more angle that would’ve made a bit of a tangent. musk’s side of the coin has a massive, massive misogynistic basis. musk, the individual, is famously a total creep. people with breeding kinks can breathe a sigh of relief because he is not one of you - his is a creepy breeding obsession. he has an obsession with creating as many of his own children as possible and subscribes to the belief that a Man’s worth can be measured with his spawn. and so many of his ilk believe the same. this is how he can have child after child despite obviously not caring for them and doing his duty as a parent - parenting ten children should basically be a full time job. it takes a village: this is a village. and i don’t mean to point fingers, but with his first wife he had a set of twins via ivf and then a set of triplets via ivf, and many more children later, including after the birth of the human person he calls “X Æ A-Xii”, he had a second child with Grimes via surrogacy. this worldview undoubtedly affects his everyday misogyny and transphobia - women’s utility is as utility, trans men do iRrEvErSiBlE dAmAgE to their mere utility, and trans women go against womanhood due to having no utility. he abandoned his own fucking daughter for being trans. creepy, disgusting, indefensible - and this man is one of the gods of our world, enacting his poisonous worldview without oversight

and ragging on cunts like musk isn’t letting the “effective altruists” off the hook. their circles, as organisations or just general society, has an oft-reported massive sexism problem. multiple EA members have been accused of creating a toxic atmosphere hostile to women, of sexual misconduct, and of grooming with intention to form ‘poly relationships’, harems. an ideology of reducing humans to utility, of stressing population growth, and of getting ants in your pants about demographic crisis does not combine well with latent misogyny and the patriarchal, male near-exclusive echelons of capitalism

[warsofasoiaf]

Harris' economic "plan" is populist, anti-capitalist, and anti-investor. "Price gouging" is just whining about corporate profits and keeping new housing from going to investors is openly Socialist. I can't and won't support the dissolution of capitalism and trust you won't either.

That's clearly bait and falling into the all-too-common progressive false dichotomy of "you either support my policies or you're just a tool of big business and thus safe to disregard," a fallacy that largely dominates progressive thinking and sadly inhibits proper debate. But that being said, Harris's recent proposed economic plans are actually quite stupid from an economics perspective. Sadly, Trump and Harris are both racing to see who can create the stupidest economic policy possible this electoral cycle: Trump seemingly trying to turbocharge inflation with removing the Fed's independence to increase market instability and slapping tariffs on everything to pander to the nativists versus Harris seemingly trying to create price controls, inevitably resulting in shortages, out of a desire to pander to progressives. Either way, it's crafting bad policy largely to suit their particular vibes.

The "price gouging" bill is questionably constitutional at the federal level. insofar as she appears to be pushing for executive power to enforce the edict via the FTC. This would be a vast expansion of the FTC's purview - which should alarm anyone actually slightly concerned by the idea of the vast expansion of presidential authority.

But even if you don't, price controls are a terrible idea. Historically speaking, there aren't any examples in the US where they work out in a positive fashion save one - the price control system during the Second World War, where wartime rationing completely altered aggregate consumer demand to the point where it's an ineffective analogue (and the uniting purpose of defeating the Axis powers to enforce compliance and reduce control evasion simply doesn't exist today). Neither do we see much success globally, they typically end up presiding over a high degree of shortages and don't have much of an effect on actual prices, economists are very much in lock-step on this particular point. But price controls do have one benefit: they're popular, of course, because it reduces any complexities to a simple binary state. Why are groceries expensive? Clearly it's because the EVIL grocery store is jacking up prices. That's what "greedflation" keeps telling us, despite it being provably wrong. The fact that profit margins in grocery stores are razor thin and barely moved during the pandemic and the periods of inflation is irrelevant. After all, it doesn't suit the vibes.

This is particularly hilarious because if you look at the data, we've actually largely conquered inflation from a food prices perspective. Here's the inflation index for food prices - they've been hovering at about zero percent for about 32 months now. And it gets even worse when you look at wages versus food prices - it's been climbing steadily upwards. There was a bad hit during the time of inflation back in 2021 and 2022, but has been on an upward trend ever since 2023. So this is a policy trying to solve a problem that doesn't exist in the way Harris has defined it and so won't actually effect a negative push on prices, but that simple fact is a mere technicality - it isn't congruent with the vibes.

But people still believe that grocery prices are too high because of price jumps in those years, which is primarily due to supply shocks and the unprecedented printing of new money under both the Trump and Biden administrations. There are plenty of policies we could propose or enact to address that. We could stop drastically expanding the money supply (which we have, sort of) or we could break out the policy toolkit to reduce prices. We could use industrial and tax policy to increase supplies, we could deregulate to cut the cost of production, we could reduce tariffs (or actually fix our dysfunctional ports) to increase competitive pressure. We could increase oil production to reduce the cost of fuel (and thus shipping) or work on developing ways to reduce the cost of energy by building more solar or nuclear (which is roundabout and minimally effective but also has a knock-on effect across the board). But that's boring! That doesn't make me out to be the scrappy underdog under assault from all sides by nefarious actors! I don't want logical answers derived from the data with coherent policy goals to address those issues designed by people who know what they're doing, I want to stick it to the people who I know are making me suffer! I want my pre-existing biases to be repeated back to me so that I can reassure myself of my inherent virtue. In short, I want vibes!

The number of houses that goes to investors is in the single-percentile range, which drops dramatically when you remove the small investor category (individual investors owning <=5 homes including their own residence - which also includes older and/or wealthier folks who may own a primary home and a vacation home and are not technically in the "housing investor class" per say), where now it's not even a single percentage point. Whereas building more houses and enacting deregulation on zoning to allow mixed-use zoning, single-staircase apartments, and other YIMBY pro-housing policies have such a dramatically more positive effect on homeowners (and reduces the price which makes housing a *less* attractive investment - which would actually reduce large-scale investor purchases of homes if someone actually cared about doing that). But no, let's set up a costly apparatus for minimal effect. It's not very effective, but at least there's a clear evil bad guy - some rich investor that the honest man can give the what-for! So in essence, vibes.

But hey, who cares how effective policy is? After all, who needs data when you have V I B E S.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King

[thekimspoblog]

FotD 1:

@joshgoodman: Thinking of some ideas currently; I've had this one circling my head. Somehow kim and Jim find themselves camping out like the kettlemans did (without the stolen money) to avoid being found by (insert threat here). Iris and fille are around 8 and 6 respectively

Me: That'd be cute! Fighting with trying to set up the tent, Kim would probably do most of it; Jimmy's threatening to slip a disk. Fille keeps asking what the hell we're actually doing out here. Iris tells her not to ask stupid questions.

"Iris, don't call your sister stupid"

"I'm not! I said her question was! There's a difference!"

Did they bring any food?

Me: In my timeline, one of the main tragic things is how this life weighs on Kim's sanity. She never really got over the trauma of the cartel following her back in '04, that's when the sheepdog dreams started; that's when she started believing in God, simply because she felt like someone or something was watching her and plotting against her at all times. Especially after Jimmy dies, paranoia really starts to consume her. She becomes a powerful mob boss nearing the end of her life, but no amount of security measures bring her peace of mind. Once Jimmy's out of the picture, things start to get a little Howard Hughes.

But yeah, even while he's around, he is sometimes worried she's getting neurotic, but it's not like he can't empathize; he never stopped looking over his shoulder either. Out here in the woods, every rustle in the grass could be a mountain lion or worse.

Him: They brought enough food for a week, but then they'd have to catch and cook their own. Which Jimmy might have an issue with. I think a mountain lion would be the least of their worries, it can be scared away; a cartel member with a gun/intent to hurt kim/her family isn't as easily scared away.

Me: Why do you think Jimmy would have a problem? Just not very good at hunting/fishing?

Kim considered taking a gun, but they both decided it would create more problems than it would solve. Even if Fille or Iris don't play with it, firing off a wild shot into the bushes could be a really bad idea; they're hiding from the law on fraud/extortion/other non violent charges. If she accidentally shot a cop who was coming to arrest them, now they're both back to looking at life. Not losing custody is always the top priority.

Even killing a "Made" man/woman would just incite retaliation. If the mafia kills them, best to just pray they'll spare the kids. Starting a shoot out would just be loud and dangerous.

I guess if they really believed the kids were in danger, they would have to give them up and leave them with someone, but thankfully it's never come to that.

Him: Based off of Jimmy's character, I'd think he'd have a terrible time hunting and fishing, yea. Also, he might have an issue with killing the animal he's able to retrieve.

I think kim would settle for a bow? Not sure if she has an archery background; iris would LOVE that. Fille could care less. But who would they leave them with, is the question? Mike is dead, so is dawson. The church is questionable

Me: I don't think Jimmy would have a problem killing an animal. He might be squeamish, but he was never a pacifist or vegetarian.

Highly doubt they would have thought to bring archery supplies. If they run out of food, they should just head back into town.

And when all else fails, they always have the option to call a social worker themselves. They REALLY don't want to do that, they've been trying to keep the kids safe off the grid. But nothing is worth endangering their lives. Even Fille would be unhappy in that arrangement.

Pretty sure "My parents only abandoned me because they're traveling con artists. But they promised they were coming back once the mob boss is dead" is foster home for "please beat me up for telling such outrageous lies".

Iris would look out for Fille, but who's looking out for poor Iris?  In the eyes of any conformist parent or teacher, Iris would be labeled a troubled child with behavioral issues. Even if their foster parents accepted their queerness, and that's a big if, nobody's going to listen to their indoctrination about the reasons shoplifting is a public good. Probably end up getting put on Ritalin or some shit.

Still, as long as Iris knew where they came from, why they feel this way all the time,they could at least try to fit in. In the timeline where Iris was born in 2005 and Kim gave them up out of guilt for what happened to Howard, Iris's life was terrible; just grew up confused and angry. Tarzan might not know what a human is, but he would still know he wasn't an ape. Kim saw these futures; even aborting them would be less cruel than leaving them to be raised by someone else. Iris needed their parents; they were the only ones who understood, the only ones who could shape this overgrown hedge of wild energy into a countercultural topiary. No matter what other childhood trauma they absorbed, the worst thing you could ever do is leave them without direction or purpose.

Him: Squeamish, that's the word I was looking for. But if it comes to survival, what wouldn't he do for his family?

Him: I wonder if the social worker would be an option? Kim wouldn't want to put the kids through that, they would find the best option one way or another.

Ah yes, Ritalin. Or as I like to call it, the zombie drug. That shit doesn't work and fuck any doctor who puts kids on it

Me: No matter what happens, at least Iris and Fille have eachother. It's not that Fille can't feel that Wexler-McGill blood in their veins; Fille is different from Iris by choice, not nature. But as the youngest in the family, as the last one always in pool when it comes to mischief, she can see how recklessness never leads to anything good.

Fille is better at pretending to be a "good kid" but she'd still feel deeply alone without her big sibling.

If she was left alone, Fille would probably be a troublemaker too. She's only such a square and a goody-goody because that's the only way she could have rebelled in a family of rebels.

Him: Ah, so fille chooses to be a goody two shoes because that's not what people expect when they see that family.

I don't think they would be apart for long, even separated by the foster care system if it came to that. Those two would always find a way back to each other

Me: Main problem is Jimmy and Kim don't want to admit failure a first time, because CPS is going to be breathing down their neck from then onward. For some reason, as long as the kids are biologically yours, most bizarre parenting choices are accepted as long as the government hasn't already labeled you a bad mother.

When Love Quinn was brought back by Dolores, the thing she wanted most was to see Henry again. But Dante and Lansing are good dads, and showing up in Henry's life now would just upset and confuse him. Admitting that she deserved to lose custody of her son was the hardest thing she's had to do, but it's for the best to just move on, try to be better moving forward.

Him: Do Love and Henry ever reunite? Or are those days behind them?

Me: Probably when Henry is older.

Iris probably would ask for archery lessons after reading the Hunger Games. Iris was always outdoorsy, but this probably is just a phase.

Him: What kind of phase would fille go through, if you had to guess?

Me: Well both siblings do have an interest in music. Iris learned to play the guitar from Jimmy; Fille would probably go ahead and find herself a piano teacher.

Him: I feel like iris would also take an interest in drums, maybe?

Me: Sounds about right.

I mean Jimmy and Kim want to encourage their hobbies. This is what the money is for.

Him: Iris would take an interest in archery, drums, and guitar while fille does piano, and maybe...swimming?

Me: Yes Fille loves the ocean. Probably cus of that goldfish soul.

Him: Ooh! Kayaking!

Me: I think Iris would be more into motor boats

Him: Boats are fun. Maybe they could take a vacation to the great lakes/some type of beach.

FotD 2:

Me: I guess yesterday I was also thinking about them making a big score, and then taking the kids shopping for new clothes. The kids complain, but it's still fun dressing them up like little dolls.

Him: I didn't think iris would go for that? Maybe fille

Me: Well Iris has always loved dress up, but plain clothes shopping is always a little boring for kids.

Me: Kim saying "Try this one on. It's a little bit big but you'll grow into it... hmm no; that's actually too big, you'll be tripping and face planting all over"

Me: But yes, those two love shopping for the family. I mean Jimmy and Kim have been eachothers gay best friend stereotypes since all the way back to law school, but the last time they actually spent a substantial amount of money like this was a few years ago at Babies-R-Us. Since leaving the church, it's mostly been consignment shops. Nothing fancy that wasn't secondhand.

Which is why they want to get each of the four of them a new outfit that will last for next few years

Him: I don't think jim + kim would contribute to chains if they didn't have to. Always choosing places like goodwill over walmart

Me: Nah they'd still go somewhere nice. Kim's love for shiny things outweighs her communist sympathies.

She wants to pretend she's not materialistic, but low-maintenance bitches don't drink thousand dollar tequila or wear real gold.

I mean Goodwill is fine and all, but this is Prada man! She's only human!

Honestly Kim's hypocrisy with how she identifies with class I think is a really interesting facet of her personality.

This is why wealth redistribution campaigns always fail: first of all, in order to adequately navigate the upper class, the revolutionary already typically needs a middle class education or better. And second, even if an army does manage to steal from the rich, the leader finds it hard to actually give those winnings to the poor instead of just pocketing it. Kim hates rich people... except for herself; that person is a lucid and benevolent matriarch who DESERVES to be managing the money!

[thekrows-nest]

Idk what kind of smarts Eliyah has honestly. Being a pretentious prick smarts? It's a skill to be that annoying.

It kind of is though? For a certain class.

I feel like he would have been given a more expensive education that basically taught to the tests, had better nutrition so he could concentrate in class, more extracurriculars, a heavy focus on rote learning and the ‘right’ way to do things to avoid blunders.

All part of the image management for a wealthier family to look superior and not embarrass them. He got taught the obvious things like riding a bike and holding a fork so it looks like he’s competent.

But I think he’s the kind of guy that believes his own hype a bit and hasn’t really had to think for himself, or problem solve, work with people on a level playing field, or manage money.

IQ tests have also been criticised for cultural bias that strongly favours White middle class groups.

He learned all the minutiae about the lenses and gel filters because he’s interested and/or he thinks it sounds impressive to a date.

I feel like Krow had less of a formal education aside from his art course, perhaps he went to a school with less resources or was ‘home schooled’ (probably by poor Mary with limited or wrong books), had a lot of distractions going on and then he left. If the neurodivergence involves ADHD that could have made things a little harder too.

But he has more mother wit and common sense. And much better social skills.

It doesn’t mean he isn’t academically smart too, what with memorising all the birds, knowledge of forensics and chemicals, and the sheer amount of intelligence and skill to be good at traditional art.

I have no idea how Krow is with math (I think he sometimes miscalculates the food budget buying tomatoes) but budgeting and buying materials involves constant practice. Dyscalculia (if that’s present) does not mean someone is less intelligent.

Also he has much better spatial skills.

Tech skills were simply not learned due to poverty and the digital divide.

I know you can also get your GED as an adult so if he didn’t finish school (I forgot his age when he ran away) and papers weren’t a barrier that might have covered any topics that didn’t get covered as a kid.

I think Eliyah is mediocre to slightly above average polished up with the cultural trappings of ‘an intellectual’, and Krow is very smart but didn’t get a lot of support to pursue that in traditional ways that would lead to qualifications on paper.

They both still do dumb things because that is human nature and I don’t think either are very emotionally stable 😆

My eyes once again bless me with more Krowspiracy hyperfocus and picking at my characters. Yaaaaay. /pos

Now to publish this and show everyone else too.

Basically this nails it.

Eliyah was blessed with all the wants/needs someone could want and then some (he's not OBSCENELY rich or well off, but he is upper middle class and that's already better than most people in the world and even Americans) but he's painfully mediocre at best.

Krow a is creative birb with a lot of knowledge and intelligence (as well as street smarts) and can think/problem solve quickly, but got screwed over by all the isms and bigotry American society has.

And yes, both definitely do VERY stupid things cause that's human existence babyyyyy. And no, neither exactly have the best grip on their emotions though both love to act or think that they do. Gabby is probably cringing off somewhere.

[duran-duran-less-official]

Ok ngl the fact that you refuse to watch the video before making an opinion on it strikes me as anti-intellectual. The video gives a very clear list of things to look out for for future instances of plagiarism and discusses why plagiarism (especially the plagiarism Somerton was doing which included stealing and harassing other smaller lgbt creators when they spoke up about it) is such a problem and how it’s easy to forget to check sources or think critically when it’s packaged in a well produced video like the ones he made.

I was not a Somerton fan (I bounced off his videos since they couldn’t hold my interest) but you have to understand he scammed a lot of people out of money while positioning himself as the True Queer Authority while spreading misinformation. Of course people are angry.

And were hbomb and todd just supposed to keep quiet about the fact that he was plagiarizing and spreading misinformation? If not for those videos, he would’ve kept scamming people. He was causing harm, and in an attention based job like this, the only way to stop them is to deplatform them. How else were they supposed to spread the word? Genuinely interested in how you think it should’ve been handled.

My guiding principle here is that when someone does a bad thing, the response to that should be proportional to the badness of the thing that was done.

The problem with HBomber as a handler of this kind of controversy is that he has no apparent upper limit on the number of hours he's willing to spend on this. And as I highlighted in an earlier post, he seems to treat any one thing he finds bad as equally bad as all the other things he talks about. I think it might be a consequence of the way his videos are formatted, and it all adds up to being disproportionate by definition.

Consider: If it's worth spending two hours talking in general terms about how plagiarism on Youtube is a pervasive problem, which I have little reason to doubt, why is it worth spending another two hours calling out one specific guy who does this thing that apparently a lot of people do? Does James McBlandname also kick puppies and protest against Planned Parenthood in his spare time? Like, the impression I get from that split is that one guy's acts of plagiarism are considered equally as bad as every other act of plagiarism on Youtube put together. And I'm sorry, I simply don't believe that any amount of plagiarism from one guy can be that morally bad.

As I said, this is a failing of HBomber's format, and the end result is that James Blanderson kind of... takes the fall for every Youtuber who has ever plagiarised. Is he worthy of derision? Yes, absolutely. Is he worthy of personally being a scapegoat for the entire Youtube plagiarism industry? There's practically no way that can be true.

It kinda makes me wish and hope that I never jumped on the Tommy Tallerico hate bandwagon—I legit don't remember if I ever have. But the same principle applies. Do intellectual property rights and their various abuses suck? No doubt. Does Tommy Tallerico deserve to be an icon of that particular sin when, say, the entire Microsoft corporation exists? Maybe not.

The question is, why single one guy out at all? Especially if it's a pervasive problem! If you're gonna go down the route of Prestige More-Than-Movie-Length Callout Post, the net result from that is you've entirely obliterated the online presence of one guy. Have you actually solved the problem? Even if the General portion of the video does the smart things, like tell viewers which genres of content farm are especially susceptible to this, or advising them how to spot when content might have been plagiarised as you're watching it, are people talking about that? Or are they talking about the one guy the other half of the video was about? What is your net impact here, and could it maybe be improved by cutting the video down to 30 minutes and being a bit more general?

All this doesn't even touch on how morally bad plagiarism is. Like it IS bad, sure, but there's degrees of badness. If you remember illuminaughtii's defining toxic trait as plagiarism, when in fact she was also very likely guilty of workplace bullying and financial/verbal abuse, then something has gone very wrong. I understand that this is Youtube, so the value of Content is at a premium, but maybe that means their own moral compasses have been warped, naturally treating plagiarism as considerably worse than the average person would or perhaps should. This is part of the point of me saying you aren't a Youtuber's foot soldier! They decided to make Youtube their lives, but you don't have to!

[yume-x-hanabi]

Concubinage Behind the Scenes - ch. 7

So apparently I forgot to cross-post a couple of these "behind the scenes" posts for my longfic I wrote a couple years ago, and since I'm about to resume this series, now's a good time to post them, starting where we left off at chapter 7.

(chapter | DW post | previous posts)

Aftermath of the beating

Thankfully, Arst was able to heal himself somewhat, so he's... well, still in pain, but less pain that he could have been. Not that it changes much—he's the type to push through and pretend he's fine anyway.

Plus, as I've mentioned before, he's got some practice at enduring beatings—and the ones he got in the past often happened in the middle of campaigns, so he sometimes had to go into battle still sore from the previous night's punishment. Not ideal at all.

Here it's just a training session, so it's more bearable, but still far from fun.

Lin's POV

Lin, as he'll explain in the next chapter, did have an inkling that Li was forcing the other trainees to submit to him, but he very naively thought he was just bribing them. He was not totally off-base tbh, that's something that happened a lot in the court: offer some gald here and there, and people look the other way.

Since Arst 'dared' to win against him, Lin was convinced that he would not be so easily corrupted. Despite how humiliating it is for him to lose in front of everyone, he finds it even more humiliating to have people fake defeat against him, so Arst actually treating him seriously was a much welcome change. That, coupled with their friendlier interactions as of late, actually made him pretty hopeful about the future of their relationship. Arst came back in a bad mood from that practice, but Lin chalked it up to him having had an argument with Li about the bribes or something.

The next day, they're facing each other again, and Lin is actually pretty excited about it (Arst, however, sees his smile and friendly banter as mockery). But then... Arst fakes a loss. He proves, in Lin's eyes, that he's no better than all the others who don't take him seriously. Lin is pretty crushed about it, and cuts his practice session short. (Here too, we have a misunderstanding, as Arst turns away before he sees the sadness and disapointment on Lin's face.)

While waiting for Arst to come back, Lin ponders what to do. He even briefly considers offering Arst more money than (what he thinks) Li did, but then he realizes that won't solve the actual problem. So he resolves to simply confront Arst about what happened. Which is... kinda big for Lin at the time, because he hates confrontation. It's a testament of how bothered he is about it that he's ready to address it head on.

Of course it doesn't go very well, and he's a bit taken aback by the sheer hostility Arst is now directing at him. That, plus Arst talking about "learning his lesson", eventually clues him in. He knows exactly what "teaching a lesson" means around here. So he tells Arst to undress for confirmation (dude, you could have just asked).

His first reaction is to jump into problem-solving mode. Arst is hurt = must stop the hurt. So he goes to his special stash of painkiller tea, all ready to share, but then he thinks of Minah and her healing abilities, and decides sending Arst to her would be even better. He makes up that pretense about fetching tea because 1. he's too shocked to think clearly and all the nonsense he was told about acting like a prince is taking over, and 2. he's got an inkling Arst wouldn't believe him anyway. So as long as he can get Arst to her, that's all that matters.

After Arst leaves, he probably spends the rest of the afternoon pacing around the room while processing everything he's just realized.

Minah

Oh Minah, my dear Minah. I think she was more middle-aged in my early concept of her, but then I decided a grandma-like character would be more fun. I didn't have much planned about her in terms of personality or anything, but she kinda... developed on her own within three lines lmao.

She's a bit of an odd one in that environment. Protocol? Traditions? Gender roles? Don't know 'em! Maybe it's because she's ran her shop on her own unbothered for so long, physically within the court but spiritually in her own little world, so she's not really bound by anything that happens around her.

She makes sure to stay as uninvolved as possible, and in return she's left unscrutinized. She's been there for so long she's practically part of the decor, in a way. So most people tend to overlook her. Need medicine? Go to old Minah! But aside from that they kinda forget she's there. Except Lin and a few others, who've come to enjoy her company and peculiar brand of wit.

Despite keeping her distance, she likes having company around, and she loves a good gossip. She was really looking forward to meeting Arst, so she got her wish there. Not the kind of introduction she expected, but definitely the highlight of her day.

She's really gifted with spirit artes, especially healing, which she started practicing since she was a child. She grew up playing assistant to her court healer father, so she developed an eye for illnesses and injuries pretty early on. This enabled her to notice that something was off about Arst. If this was a murder mystery, she'd definitely be the detective XD

Healing

I didn't set out to explore worldbuilding about healing artes from the start, but the more I brought them up, the more I naturally developed lore around it. I love giving a more in-depth spin to gameplay mechanics, so this was a good occasion. Healer Arst was something I'd decided on when I started, though. I loved the discovery that he was programmed to have Cure and Resurrection (unused data has always fascinated me!), and I wanted to make it an actual thing in a story. Since this is an AU, I thought that it would be the perfect setting for it. Especially since it'll be very useful to him here.

[devastator1775]

Anne's Journey: Two eternal Souls And The Lost Daughter - Chapter 2: 2Tone and Red Ash

Chapter Summary: Anne deals with returning to school and letting her best friend in on a certain secret.

Despite how hard she tried; Anne was unable to get that nagging feeling out of her head. Those little thoughts that had pinned themselves on the back of her mind with little hook. She had spent the remainder of her time at home spending quality time with Hazel and Naomi – her parents, despite everything she learned – and she had loved every second of it. They went to see the movies, they went out to dinner, they went shopping for clothes – again, but this time with Hazel’s money –, they had a great time.

And still …

She couldn’t stop wondering about those who had actually brought her into this world. The ones whose combined codes had created her. Who were those two Drones that had left her at that doorstep? What were their dreams, their hopes, their goals in life? What did happen to them that they couldn’t keep a baby, accidental or not?

And what about the corrupted files in her system? According to her moms, Anne had been checked out extensively since she was a Neural Network, but nothing seemed to point out that it would cause any sort of problems. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe that was simply just the cause of her uniquely colored eyes?

And what happened in her bedroom? She had tried to push the memory away, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it. That was a piece of her visor, freshly broken off. But why wasn’t there any damage to show that it was? Like it had somehow healed on its own. But that was impossible. Right?

What about-

“Miss Brinkman!”

With a surprised yelp, Anne looked up, blushing lines forming on her visor when her classmates started laughing. Oh right, she was in class. And she had been zoning out …again. “Y-yes, Mrs. Windsor?”

“Ah, back with us again, Miss Brinkman?” her teacher asked. “I do apologize for interrupting you little daydream, but I rather wish you’d pay attention to the things I’m actually trying to teach you.”

Anne shrunk in herself as some of her classmates snickered around her, but a stern warning look from Miss Windsor quickly shut them up. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Windsor. It won’t happen again, Mrs. Windsor.”

“Maybe I’ll believe you if you could solve the equation on the board, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs. Windsor gestured to said board that held the complicated math problem they had been instructed to solve.

Anne gave it a quick look and turned back to Mrs. Windsor. “The answer is 352.12589, Mrs Windsor.”

Mrs Windsor look at her sheet …then turned to Anne with a soft smile. “Well, good to see that your absence hasn’t eroded your math skill, Miss Brinkman.” At that point, the bell rang, signaling the end of school. “Okay class, don’t forget your homework. Reminder: pages 34 to 45 and pages 60 to 62. You can hand in in whenever you are ready with it, just don’t forget that I’ll ultimately need it by next week. See you tomorrow.”

Anne quickly stuffed her belongings in her backpack and was about to make her way out the room, when Mrs Windsor cleared her throat.

“Anne, a word, please?”

Anne flinched like the words stung and sauntered over to the teacher’s desk, dreading the scolding she’d receive. She already was on thin ice because:

Because she had forgotten to set her alarm on her phone, she had overslept. Her parents had the early shift, so they weren’t around to wake her up. It wasn’t the first time this happened, Anne was used to this, so normally she’d handle it herself. Her parents trusted her enough to be responsible and get herself dressed, fed and go to school on her own. But due to the circumstances, she had forgotten and even while she had rushed to get to school, she had been 7 minutes late.

In her haste, she had forgotten her homework at home. So …that sucked. Anne was a grade-A student and she was rightly proud of that fact. And now she wasn’t paying attention in class. She was in for a reprimand, she was sure of it.

Anne rubbed her arms sheepishly, trying to bring herself to look her teacher in the eyes – and quite failing at it. “Mrs Windsor, about what happened- “

“Is everything going alright at home, Anne? And with you?” The softness and the concern in her teacher’s voice immediately brought a sense of ease to Anne, and she looked into concerned eyes and a warm little smile that made Anne feel safe to speak. Dang, this woman was good. “I must admit, I was surprised when Hazel called me last week to tell me you had to say home for a while. She sounded …off, but she didn’t want to divulge anything to me ...which is surprising because that woman can’t keep a secret.”

Boy, showed what she knew. But she wasn’t surprised that her teacher showed such concern and familiarity to her. While Anne knew her as Mrs Windsor the teacher, to her parents she used to be Eloise Hill, before she took on her husband’s last name. Eloise was a mutual friend from their college days and best friend of her mother Hazel. This woman used to babysit her, build pillow forts on the couch with her and allowed her – often healthy – snacks before bedtime.

Anne wondered …did she know? Had her mothers told Eloise about her adoption and the events surrounding that. Then again, Eloise only moved into town when Anne was 5 and that was the first time that Hazel, Naomi and her had reunited since college. Anne decided that it was better not to ask and presented her most convincing smile.

“No, nothing is wrong, Mrs Windsor – Eloise – and I’m f-fine.” Dangit, why did she stutter? “Just a little virus that had me in a bad state, is all. Shows me that I shouldn’t be downloading movies from suspicious sites on the ultranet, huh?”

Gosh, that was such a lame excuse.

“Uh-huh, that’s so, right?” Eloise’s expression just screamed ‘I don’t believe you, child’. She collected her papers and tapped them on her desk to straighten them out. “You know, my many years as a teacher has given me the intricate ability to spot when my students aren’t completely being honest with me.”

Anne gulped. She really didn’t feel like opening up about what had transpired last week. At least, not with another adult like her teacher.

Eloise sighed, placed her papers on the desk and looked up at Anne with a soft smile. “But I do also know when my students aren’t comfortable – or ready – to open up about some things. So, for now, I’ll just take your word for it and let it go for now. Okay?”

Anne breathed out a sigh of relief, wiping away a digital bead of sweat and nodded.

“However, …” Eloise folded her hands on the table, straightened her posture and look at Anne with an expression that told the adolescent Drone that she was dealing with the Teacher now instead of her parents’ old friend. “Whatever it is, it’s not an excuse for absentmindedness. I do expect that my students are alert and present whenever I am teaching my classes, and not lost in their own thoughts. Not even for one of my best and brightest ones, understand?”

Anne tried her best not to flinch at the stern-but-fair tone in Mrs. Windsor’s voice. She gulped, straightening her own posture. “I …I understand, Mrs. Windsor.”

“I do so hope that you do, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs Windsor stated her expectation. Her expression softened a bit. “I do mean it when I say that you are one of my brightest, but that doesn’t give you an exception to let personal problems influence your performance at school. I expect you take this in consideration in the near future, of which I meant: tomorrow in class?”

“Yes, Mrs Windsor. I know, Mrs. Windsor. I won’t let it happen again, Mrs Windsor.”

“I believe it when I see it, Miss Brinkman.” Mrs Windsor sighed and took off her half-rounded glasses, giving Anne a more sympathetic look. “Speaking with my own personal experience of being a teenager, whatever you’re going through at this age …is rather expected for someone your age, but it helps to talk with people, Anne. There are counsellors at our school whose doors are open for these situations. Mr Ward and Miss Clancey are excellent listeners and have helped other students with their problems, whatever nature they were. Maybe you should pay either a visit one of these days and sort things out. I’m not telling you what to do, I’m just suggesting to give the possibility a thought, okay?”

Anne suppressed the urge to scoff with all her might. There was no way that a school counsellor could help with this problem. She smiled and nodded, nevertheless. “I’ll consider it, Mrs Windsor. Thank you.”

“I’m here to help you, Anne.” Mrs Windsor smiled warmly and waved her away. “Now, I have taken enough of your time. Go home, tell your parents I said ‘hi’ and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Anne spun around with a small wave and quickly made her way out the room. Eloise was just doing her job as a teacher – and a friend – but this thing that Anne was going through …was everything but simple. Just talking about it wouldn’t do anything right now. Anne sighed. Maybe she was allowing it to get to her a bit too much. Maybe it was better to just …. move on and forget.

…

‘If it only was that simple.’

The sound of people talking in the distance grabbed her attention, but there was one in particular that her smile and she immediately ventured off in that direction. Well, if there was something – or rather: someone – that could give Anne some much needed distraction, it was:

“Ash!” Anne called out as she turned the corner.

Ashley Yates, better known by her friends as Ash or sometimes Red Ash, a female Drone with dark red eyes and the same shade of curly hair spun – which she wore in the rather complex style of two braided tails in the front, two large buns in the back and holding the rest of it all together with a black-and-blue bandana - around and enthusiastically waved at her.

“Yo, Anne! Hang on, just finishing up here.” She turned back to her conversation partner and slapped her on the shoulder. “So yeah, just trust me on this, Becks. Liddy is all about those stereotypical, mushy dating tropes. Just take her out to dinner, have a movie, take a walk and you’ll be snogging it up together in no time. And I do remember how much you like doing that.” She winked at the Drone, who started blushing, and gently ushered her away. “Now go get your girl, girl.”

With a giggle, the other Drone girl skipped away, quickly greeting Anne as she passed the latter.

“You’re helping Becky, your ex-girlfriend Becky, getting a date?” Anne asked as she approached the redheaded Drone, giving her a hug the moment she was close enough. “Didn’t you guys, like, break up not two weeks ago?”

“Yeah, but it was a mutual break-up, y’know?” Ash responded, returning the hug. “We had our 2 months of fun, but we both knew it wasn’t going anywhere, so we ended things and decided to remain friends. And what kind of friend would I be, if I didn’t want to help her out with some things she’s too shy to do herself?”

“Yeah, but to help her get a date, so soon after …”

“Anne, I am a girl who’s filled with love. I love loving. I have so much love in my core, that I can’t help but to help other people reach their pinnacle of love.” Ash made a heart shape with her hands, turning her eyes into hears for good measure, which just made Anne roll her eyes.

Ashley changed her eyes back to normal. “Besides, even a blind Drone can see those two are a great match. They’ve got that ‘synergy’, or whatever you would call that thing they do they don’t think everyone notices.” She threw an arm around Anne’s shoulders. “But enough about that, because, girl, I want to talk about you!”

“What about me?” Anne asked innocently, feigning ignorance.

“’What about me?’ she asks, like there’s nothing to discuss.” Ashley chuckled dryly. “You vanish of the face of the Copper for a few days, completely ghosting me; you don’t call, you hardly text; and when you came back, you were late and not paying attention in class. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”

 Anne rolled her eyes again, but couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. There wasn’t a hint of anger or disappointment in Ashley’s voice, but while she wouldn’t state it outright, Anne knew she had been worried. After all, they had been friends since kindergarten, when they were still both Pill Babies. They were practically joined at the hip. They’ve shared all their secrets with each other, had each other’s back through thick and thin.

They were a team …and Anne had left her teammate out in the dark. That wasn’t cool, even though Anne did have a valid reason for it. With a heavy sigh, she pushed Ashley’s arm from her shoulder. “I know, I’m sorry. Things …were happening that-”

“Apology accepted.” Ashley stated bluntly with a massive grin and a mischievous look in her eyes.

“That was quick.” Anne couldn’t help but grin as well.

“Eh, I figured that you must’ve had a good reason for ditching your bestie like that.” Ashley grabbed Anne’s arm and pulled her really close to her face, bringing her voice to a dark whisper. “But if you don’t tell me what the glitching heck is going on, I swear by the Creators …”

“Okay, okay, but …” Anne looked around. There were still so many students around and she rather not start a rumor chain. She didn’t want to go through that hassle but most importantly, she didn’t want the possibility that it could affect her parents in some ways. “Not here.”

“Ooh, mysterious.” Ash grinned, her dark expression dropping immediately. “Okay, lead the way. But first …soda. I’m craving some carbonated coolant and I need it now.”

Anne rolled her eyes with a grin. “Okay, but I’m buying. Consider it an apology for ghosting you like that.”

“Obviously, girl.”

***

The Town Park was a beloved place where people would spend time together. While the park was well maintained, there was one part at the east side of the area that was largely abandoned.  That area used to be closed off permanently because of some maintenance issue, but closed gates and chains didn’t stop it from becoming a popular hangout for the town’s teenage residents and since no-one seemed to have any real issue with it, so it kinda naturally evolved into an ‘unofficially official hangout area’. As long as no-one made any real trouble, people looked the other way and let the youth be young there.

Today, it seemed largely empty, save for some groups listening to music, joking around and showing off their skating tricks. Anne and Ashley had secluded themselves in one of the at one their usual after-school haunts: a little gazebo under a dead willow tree.

“So, are you gonna tell me the big secret now, 2Tone?” Ashley asked – using her favorite nickname for her best friend, an obvious reference to Anne’s two-colored eyes -, as she nonchalantly leaned against the railing to take a sip of her Cherry Oilnade.

“Yeah, yeah, just …I’m trying to find the words here, Ash.” Anne let out a heavy sigh, looking at the liquid in her soda bottle as it swirled around and forming a little whirlpool. Rather a kinda fitting metaphor of how her life was feeling right now.  She took a deep breath. “Okay …so, last week I was, uh, rummaging around in my parents’ room.”

“Candy stash?”

“Candy stash.” Anne affirmed. “And while I was looking, I found this …basket at the top of their closet, really tucked away. In there, there was …” Anne took off the choker she was wearing and held it out to Ashley. “This, among other things.”

Ashley chuckled as she took the necklace, bouncing it in her hands. “Talk about retro.” She held it up, examining it. Her brow furrowed as she held it closer to her visor. “Really retro. This is old. Like …a few generations. Worn, but still good.”

Anne took the choker out of Ash’s hands and put it back on. “Yeah, I saw that too, but there were other things in that basket too. A scarf, a pair of glasses, - “She pointed at the beanie she was wearing. “This old beanie.”

“I was wondering about that.” Ashley stated. “Looks good on you, though.”

“And …a letter.” Anne continued, ignoring Ashley’s statement. “A letter addressed to my parents. A letter that said...” She took a deep breath, slowly releasing it into the cold air. “’Her name is Anne. Please love her like we would have loved her’.”

Ashley remained silent for a few moments, but her eyes hollowed when she suddenly realized where this was going.

She let the word hang in the air for a while, her gaze fixated on the creaking floor of the gazebo. “Yeah, I kinda realized what that meant, too. When my parents found me with that, well …they told me …that …I’m adopted. They are not my birth parents. 16 years ago, someone left me at their doorstep, in that very basket, with those very items and that letter.”

The words came flowing out and it felt good to say them out loud to someone else. It lessened the weight that she was feeling on her core. “Someone had me, but they couldn’t keep me, but they wanted me to have a family, so they left me with Hazel and Naomi, who then adopted me and raised me like their own for the last 16 years. And that, well, I think you can understand that learning about a big secret like that can really mess someone up, …so yeah …that’s why I wasn’t at school for a few days. Why I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I was …dealing with that.”

Ashley remained silent for a few moments, before she opened her mouth again. “Oh …”

Anne cocked her head. “’Oh’? is that all you have to say about it? What kind of reaction is that? Jeez, it’s almost like you- “She noticed her friend’s expression and it suddenly all clicked. For someone who had just heard this bombshell of a lifechanging news, Ashley seemed rather …unsurprised. In fact, it was like …she was expecting it. Did she …? Was she ….? Anne pointed an accusatory finger at Ashley. “You knew …? You glitching knew?”

Ashley held up her hands, her expression changing from neutral to flustered, like she was caught with her hand in the c00kie jar. “No-no-no, I swear that I didn’t know.” She pushed herself off from the railing and walked up to her friend, grabbing her hands. “I didn’t know …”

The pause that followed was a little too long, heavily hinting at what was coming next.

Anne raised a digital eyebrow. “But…?”

Ashley sighed and she rubbed the back of her head. “But, I kinda …suspected it?

“Suspe- how?” Anne was flabbergasted at this revelation. How did her best friend deduce these things before her? She sighed in defeat. “Was it that obvious?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, but …” Ashley huffed and crossed her arms. “I mean, different eye colors than both your moms, the height thing, things like that.”

“Well, if you suspected something, then why didn’t you ever say something, Ash?”

Ashley scoffed. “’Dude, are you adopted or what?’  Yeah, great conversation starter.” She sheepishly scratched the side of her chin. “Besides, I could easily have been very wrong and I figured that it didn’t matter if it would be true or not, because you, Anne Brinkman, are still my best friend, no matter what.”

Anne, suddenly feeling very emotional, threw her arms around Ashley, who immediately returned the hug. They stood there for a few silent moments, with Anne softly sobbing and Ashley just comforting her while she was letting it all out. Anne eventually pushed herself off, rubbing her visor.

“Oh, man …” She looked up at her friend, her expression a mix of apologetic and embarrassed. “Sorry for breaking down like that.”

“Meh, you looked like you needed a good cry. I mean, I would. I can’t even fathom what you’re going through right now.” Ashely stated, waving away the apology. “What are friends for, right, if not to be a shoulder to lean on during trying times?”

“Robo-God, you’re being extra cheesy, Ash.”

“It’s why you love me, 2Tone.” The redheaded Drone threw her arm around Anne’s head and pulled her close. Anne, knowing what would happen when her friend had that mischievous glint in her visor, managed to wriggle free before she was on the receiving end of a noogie.

“Man, I should have guessed that you would’ve figured this out, Ash.” Anne sighed, finishing the rest of her soda and chucking it over to the nearby bin – and making the perfect shot. “You are always so much smarter than you like make people believe.”

“Nah, you’re the smart one, Anne the hacker-queen.” Ashley stated with a grin as she walked backwards towards the railing. “I’m just very observa-AAGH! Oomph! …ouch.”

“Observant, huh?” Anne grinned as she walked to where Ashley had stood a second ago and leaned next to the now-gone piece of railing. She looked down at Ash, who way laid flat on her back. “Not observant enough you were leaning against the broken piece of the gazebo, Ash. How does the ground taste, bestie?”

“What’s that oh-so colorful expression you like to use whenever I’m being snarky at you? Oh yeah …” She popped up with a grin. “Bite me!”

They both started laughing, with Anne offering her hand to her fallen friend to pull her up. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just my pride …and my backplate.” Ashley mumbled as she dusted herself off. “Ugh, I just bought this outfit, too.”

“Hey, Ash?”

“Yah?”

“Thanks for listening.” Anne smiled warmly at her friend, and pulled her in for another hug. “I don’t know what I’d do without you as my friend.”

“Anytime, bestie. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone without your permission.” The hug conveniently hid the blush that was clearly showing on Ashley’s visor, bright like neon in the night. After a few moments, Ashley – almost reluctantly – playfully pushed Anne away from her. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. I’ve got a reputation to uphold, girl.”

“Yeah, right!” Anne laughed, fishing her phone out of her pocket and checked it. She had gotten text from both of her moms. Mostly about how school was, how she was feeling, what she wanted for dinner, ect …regular parents stuff.

“Soooo…” Ashley began, her tone rather uncharacteristically cautious that it made Anne look up from the reply text she was typing in. “I’ve got a question, but you don’t have to answer it, if you don’t like.”

“O-kay?” Anne raised a digital eyebrow.

“Did you, like, find out anything about …you know, the people who left you?” Ash asked softly, brining her voice down a bit. “I mean, I’d guess you whole, uh, situation was looked into?”

Anne let out a heavy sigh. “Not much.” She replied. “My moms didn’t have much to tell me.”

“So, what do you know?”

Anne gave a quick recap of what her parents had told her. About the two Drones that were supposed to be her birth parents but they had perished in a rather convenient accident. About the faults in her data codes and the missing files about her mystery Cradle Facility. She did, however, neglect to tell her about the little accident she had in her room, and the non-existent injury she swore she received. Things were weird enough without throwing that into the mix.  

“-and that’s about it.” Anne concluded, letting out a groan.

“That’s …not much.”

“Like I said.”

“You think your moms are holding something back?”

“Nah, why should they?” Anne answered with a shrug. “I think they just …don’t want to think about it. Which they did. For 16 years. I guess anyone would forget those details. Man, I just wish I could look into it myself.”

“Uh, dude?”

“What?”

“You can.”

“Huh?”

“The Municipal Center downtown hold our records and you can easily ask for a copy of some of it.” Ashley pointed out, pointing her thumb over her shoulder, in the general direction of the Downtown area. “About everything. Of everyone. We can just put in a request for your file there.”

“We can?!”

“Yeah, you can just ask for any sort of your own information they have on file.” Ash started to count down on her fingers. “Birth certificate, medical history, anything related to familial info, criminal history – don’t ask -, things like that.”

“How do you know that?”

“Uh, I’ve paid attention in school, despite what I like make people believe? We’ve learned about this two years ago. I got an A+ on that test.” Ashley replied with a grin. She chuckled, her grin growing even more mischievous. “Ah, but you did get a B- on that back then, didn’t you? Oh, so sad.”

“Bite me!” Anne grabbed Ashley’s hand and started to drag her along. “But you, Ashley Yates, are a genius.”

“Always glad when someone notices my worth!” Ashley laughed as she started to follow her friend.

***

Even though that Ash had said it wouldn’t be difficult to get access to the data she needed, she still was surprised how easy it was to get her hands on it. She had to fill in a few forms, most of it just legal mumbo-jumbo that she didn’t really understand. Since she was 16, she didn’t need either of her parents present for it, and truth be told: she was glad they weren’t there. She didn’t know how’d they react when they found out she was investigating this.  

Still, she got what she needed. Anything related around her adoption was copied to a thumb drive, and said drive was resting in her pocket. It felt …heavy, for some reason. Every step she took made her more aware of the little thing she was carrying around, and the potentially big revelations that it carried within.

Too bad that Ash had to go help her dad in the shop afterwards. ‘A little extra cash in the pockets never hurts, 2Tone’, as she said. Maybe it was just the guilt of ghosting her that talked, but she would’ve liked her friend to be there when she was looking into this.  Which is why she tried to look as casual as she could when she opened the door of her house and walked in.

“Mom, momma, I’m home!”

“Kitchen, sweetie!” she heard her mom Hazel call.

Anne cheerfully walked into the kitchen and saw her mom busy doing prep work for dinner. Drones didn’t really need to eat actual food, but every Drone was built with an internal matter-to-energy convertor – what their extinct Creators would have called a ‘stomach’ -, so it made for a nice thing to do together. Having family meals.

Anne walked over to her and kissed her mom on the cheek. “Hi, mom. Where’s momma?”

“Still at the hospital, stuck in a meeting, the poor thing. How about you? How was school, Anne?” Hazel asked, turning back to cutting up …whatever vegetable that was.

“Uh, good but …” Anne sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. “I, uh, …overslept this morning.”

“Oh no…”

“I was late at school.”

“Anne …”

“And I forgot my homework back here.”

“That, I noticed.” Hazel stated with a chuckle. “I left it on your desk upstairs. Please, put it in your backpack the moment you step in there.”

“Yes, mom. Thank you, mom.”

“I bet Ashley was happy to see you again.” Hazel said with a soft smile.

“She was a bit …ticked off that I didn’t call or text her, but yeah, she was glad I was back.” Anne said, sitting down after she grabbed herself a glass of hydraulic fluid. She ran her finger over the edge of the glass. “Uh, talking about Ash.”

“Yes?”

“I …told her …about me being adopted.”

Hazel stopped cutting, her knife hovering midair.

“Please, don’t get mad.” Anne began nervously. “I really felt like it was something she needed to know. Ash is my best friend since, like, forever and – “

“Anne.” Hazel interjected, making Anne stop mid-sentence. She smiled softly at her daughter. “Who you decide to tell, is your decision. You don’t need our permission for that. It’s not like it’s a big secret; and yes, I do know how hypocritical that sounds, considering we waited 16 years before we told you.”

“I found out, by accident and only then, you told me.” Anne smirked. “Besides, Ash had kinda figured it out on her own.”

Hazel chuckled, turning back to chopping up her veggies. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Ashley always has been an observant one.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.” Anne stated dryly with a roll of her eyes. She downed her drink in one big gulp and stood up, grabbing one of her mother’s freshly baked microchip cookies that were standing on the counter. “I’m heading upstairs to do my homework!”

“Okay!”

Anne rushed upstairs and quickly made her way to her room, closing the door the moment she stepped in. She took out the thumb drive and held in in her open hand, giving a long look, like it was going to divulge its secrets while she was staring at it.

“No turning back now.” Anne muttered to herself as she bounced the little thing in her hand. She sat down at her desk and took out her laptop, quickly booting it up. She was about to plug in the drive, when she saw the background of her desktop. It was a picture of her and her mothers – with Ashley in the background, making silly faces. She stared at it for a little while, contemplating what she was about to do …and then plugged in the drive.

“Okay …let’s see what’s on you.”

[dantent]

Chapter 6 - Is That A Coping Mechanism? (Silco x OC)

Tags: 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 | 𝙁𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 | 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 | 𝙎𝙡𝙤𝙬 𝘽𝙪𝙧𝙣 | 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩 | 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙁𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 | 𝙃𝙪𝙧𝙩/𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 |

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence

"What were you thinking?" Babette was smoothing out her eyebrows with her fingers. 

"He didn't give me a choice!" Ren yelled. 

They were sitting right next to each other on the couch, yet the mechanic was staring off into space as they huffed some smoke. With their left leg, they made shaking motions, unconsciously trying to calm themselves down. Ren was holding their head, pulling at their hair like it would solve their problems. Babette could only watch them, unsure what to do. 

"If Silco ordered you," she shook her head," there is nothing I can do, Ren."

"Fuck." they completely buried their face in their hands, cigarette lazily hanging between their fingers. 

Babette placed her small hand on their back, slowly rubbing circles on their muscles. She felt bad for the mechanic. Seeing such a young person be pushed to the ground again and again was such a painful sight to her. And yet there was nothing she could do. The yordle already offered up anything she had but life seemed to take Ren elsewhere. Babette still remembered the small child following around their older friends, but right now she only saw a troubled adult, left alone in the world. 

"I just," Ren finally raised their head and turned to Babette, "have no idea what to do. On one hand, maybe my brother won't find me like this. He is probably staying as far away from Silco as he can. But on the other, I would be working for Silco!"

They took a big breath and brought the cigarette to their lips. After taking a few huffs, they continued. 

"It's like trying to hide from a wolf in a pit full of venomous snakes!" they bit their lip. "If I make a mistake, death would be mercy! Silco already doesn't like me because of my past with Piltover, but doing something directly against his orders? I would get myself killed!"

The Madam nodded. She truly believed that out of the two options they had, Silco was the worst. But Ren didn't have a choice anymore. She only wished she would've told them about Silco's daughter - the culprit, who brought them into this in the first place. Maybe if she did more, Ren wouldn't have to be here right now. Sadly the past couldn't be changed. 

"Do you have enough money to get on a ship?" she tried looking for a solution. 

"It's nearly impossible to get out of Zaun now." they scoffed. "Tried asking around for ships but no luck there."

"Oh, Janna grace us." Babette whispered. "You have no choice."

"I know, that's the problem." they laughed but it lacked any happiness. "That's the fucking problem."

Ren slept in Babette's office that night. It was one of the few places they felt safe at. Perhaps the only place right now. And soon they would have to say goodbye to it. They weren't ready. Even if they weren't working here for a long time, Ren still felt connected to this place, especially because of Babette. From their very early teenage years, they've visited the brothel because of a friend who worked there. And up until now, Ren worked there. Ren would miss most of their co-workers, and the whispered talks on their smoking breaks. 

The next day Ren searched around the brothel and said their goodbyes to anyone they could. Most people were concerned about this sudden change of heart, others simply shrugged it off. Of course, Ren didn't tell them why they "quit". It would mean unnecessary danger to everyone involved. The twins were the most devastated of Ren's departure. Oskar and Sera sat down with Ren to ask why they were leaving and what their plan was. Ren lied and said they were going to be at a mechanic shop in Silco's district. The twins weren't happy about their decision but assured the mechanic that if anything happened, they could always come to the both of them. 

Once they finished saying goodbye, they packed up all the things they left at the brothel. There weren't many things, just a couple personal projects and tools. After making promises of being safe, they left the brothel for good. They would come back of course, but only when they made sure it was safe. Or perhaps that day never would come. 

At home they made themselves a light meal, did their workout routine and finished up some of the machines they were working on. Before they knew it, they knocked themselves out. Then the next day came, the last before they would work under Silco's hand. It still terrified them; the thought of seeing the man everyday. But there wasn't anything they could do - only hope for the best. 

They allowed themselves the luxury of not getting out of the bed - or rather couch - after waking up. It was rare sight in Zaun, but they didn't have the energy to do it. Instead they just laid on their left side, looking out the window. The neon green lights made them squint but they still watched as people crossed the bridge between two buildings. Ren tried observing as many of the passersby as they could. Not that they were doing it out of paranoia, they simply just couldn't find a better way to spend their time. 

When they felt like they finally gathered some energy to get up, they ate some breakfast and sat down to finish one of their projects. Soon their hands felt worn and Ren could only sit at their desk and look at the unfinished machine. The hands were holding it, yet they couldn't bring themselves to work on it. Ren's mind couldn't seem to stop wondering about what tomorrow might bring. But most of all they worried about Jinx. The mechanic didn't exactly hate her for the explosion but they did feel betrayed. Even if they didn't love the workshop and many of its workers, death was a far too cruel punishment in their opinion. If that wasn't enough, the fact that it was technically the girl's fault they had to come back to Zaun just didn't sit right with them. 

But tomorrow came, as it always does. Ren woke up in the early hours, sitting up while dread wanted to push them back. They weren't sure when Silco would expect them to appear at the Drop, so they wanted to go for sure. Somehow they dragged themselves over to the bathroom and took a bath, deciding to at least smell nice while appearing with the Eye of Zaun. Once they were done, they ate a breakfast, got dressed, then left their apartment. 

Ren wasn't looking forward to meeting Silco's henchmen and Jinx again. They even tried walking so slow others had to push them out of the way. But they reached the Drop in the end. This was the first time they came here without Jinx guiding them through the bar, and they could feel the heavy eyes of the bodyguards following them as they stepped inside. A familiar sight greeted them. Some of the goons were playing a card game while others idled away. Sevika was nowhere to be found, once again; and so was Jinx. Ren awkwardly walked further inside, deciding to rest by one of the walls. They were unsure whether or not they should go meet Silco now, or find him later. Perhaps they should wait until-

"Hey." a voice called out to them.

The mechanic turned around, seeing a tall woman with short, black hair walk up to them. She had a raspy voice but one that still sounded nice to the ears. Ren straightened their back and crossed their arms, trying to appear collected. The woman eyed them for a moment before talking again.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" she questioned. 

"My name is Ren and I've recently been hired to help Jinx." they introduced themselves. "I wasn't sure whether or not I should see Silco about it. He didn't exactly tell me when to come or what to do."

"Hmmm, a pity." she tilted her head. 

"Uhm, what's your name?" they tried easing the tension.

"Ran."

"Oh." the mechanic nodded, a bit surprised. "Common name around these parts, huh?"

She didn't answer for a moment, instead she turned around, sharing a look with the other thugs. Then she turned back to Ren. "Boss isn't here right now, but I can gladly take you to Jinx."

Ren wondered what Silco could possibly be doing at so early in the morning but they didn't voice their concern. Instead, they just nodded. "That would be helpful."

The woman snorted before motioning to follow her. Ren did so without a word. Of course, they were still wary of the woman. For all they knew, she could be taking them to a torture dungeon. The mechanic was sure Silco had one of those. Maybe not underneath the Drop but somewhere else for sure. 

Alas, the woman took them downstairs and stopped in front of a door that was painted in various neon colors. Amongst many symbols, Ren recognized a giant monkey head, some sharks and words scattered across the wood, and on top of it all - in blue and pink - the name "Jinx". The mechanic carefully eyed the door, almost being able to smell the rancid spray paint from it. Most of the symbols drawn were freshly done, based on the lack of scratches and wears of the colorful surfaces. Ren also noticed some splotches and smudging on the drawings but that was to be expected when dealing with spray paint. 

Meanwhile, the woman left their side, going back to the main area of the bar. From behind the door, Ren could hear the faint sound of music. To their luck, this signified that at least Jinx was home. They knocked on the door three times, hoping the girl would hear it. A few second passed by and no sound came from inside, except from the singer of whatever album she was listening to. Ren tried knocking again, and finally they got an answer. 

"We are busy!" came Jinx's lowered voice from behind the door. She was, no doubt, trying to imitate Silco. 

"Well, if you say so." Ren shrugged, turning away from the door. 

The music stopped in an instant and Ren could hear some commotion coming from the inside, along with an "oh nuts" by Jinx. Soon she tore the door open with a wide smile on her face. Ren could feel their worries fade away as she looked at the young girl. Her energetic behaviour definitely inspired the mechanic. 

"Ren!" she rushed towards them. 

"Hey Jinx." they awkwardly took her hug. "So, about the time you left me with your dad..."

"Oh, come on!" she shook her hand dismissively. "You were fine! But! You'll tell me all the details of the conversation inside! Come in!"

Jinx practically shoved Ren inside. The mechanic wasn't surprised by what they found in her room, since they saw glimpses of it on the door. It was dark inside and the only light source came from the black lights hung on her ceiling. They made all the neon paint around her room light up like fireworks. Ren gasped when they saw how almost everything was covered in paint. Even the cans on the floor - still leaking some of the paint - were lit up in the darkness. 

The girl looked at their reaction with an excited stare. Once a smile spread on their face, Jinx hopped back to her table. Ren's attention turned to a big net that was stretched out along the corner of her room. It was hanging mid air, a mattress and pillows on top of it. The ropes seemed strong enough to keep Jinx up but Ren still wondered if it was safe sleeping on that "bed". 

"Is that where you sleep?" they pointed at the net. 

"Hmm?" Jinx walked over to them. "Oh, yeah!"

She grabbed one of the ropes and jumped up with ease. Ren was surprised by how fluidly she was able to get on top of it. 

"It's waaaay more comfy than it looks." she gave the mattress a few pats. "And I like hanging around in the air."

"Just make sure you don't fall off." Ren chuckled. 

"I'm careful, don't worry." Jinx jumped off. "Now, onto "Jinx's-whimsical-goodies-workshop"!"

"You have no idea what whimsical means, do you?" they crossed their arms as they walked over to the desk. 

"Nope, but it doesn't matter!" 

Ren finally understood why the girl had previously expressed her need for a real workshop. Her room, while it was bigger than expected, wasn't exactly fit for mechanical work. Her personal belongings took up way more space than it was safe when she worked on dangerous projects. If she accidentally fell over one of her plushies, she could easily hurt herself with a chemical or something else. What also didn't help was the constant darkness in her room. A simple desk lamp would've been far better for her eyes. 

What interrupted their analyzation was Jinx's quiet giggles. They turned to her with a raised brow, but she just pointed at their robotic hand. Ren looked down, noticing the neon green, fake veins glowing under the black light. The mechanic turned back to the girl with a small smile on their face.

"Not you making a joke out of my disability, Jinx." they tutted at her.

"I'm not!" she yelled before pulling the mechanic to her desk.

It was full of oddities. Ren saw parts of guns and grenades mixed with feathers and what appeared to be human teeth. The mechanic chose not to question it and try to believe those were her old teeth that she kept around for some reason. The desk itself was also colored in neon paint, giving the contents on the table a faint glow from underneath.

"Ta-da!" she motioned with her hands at the desk.

"It... suits you." Ren nodded, trying their best to give compliments.

Jinx rolled her eyes. "Ah, just say ya don't like it!"

"It's not that I don't like it," they explained, "it's just that this style is vastly different than what I'm used to."

The girl tilted her head. "So ya don't mind it?"

"Nah, I think it has its... charms." the mechanic decided to say. "However, I cannot help but notice the lack of light."

"There is light." she pointed around the neon painted walls.

"Yeah, no." Ren sighed. "Listen you wanna learn from me, right?"

"Ye' that's the idea!" she nodded enthusiastically.

"Okay, then get some lights in here." Ren turned to the table.

"Ugh!" Jinx snapped her head backwards in disapproval.

"Just a desk lamp is enough." they stood their ground. "Believe me kid, this is for your own good."

Jinx grumbled something before hopping to one of the boxes laying on the ground. She started rummaging around, then she pulled out what looked like a pretty beaten up lamp. Ren wasn't even sure if it wad going to work because it was practically falling apart in the girl's hands. Jinx stepped back to Ren, presenting the lamp. They carefully took it from her hands before setting it down at the edge of the table.

The lamp almost fell over, so the mechanic had to catch it. Sadly the part that protected the bulb fell out but thankfully Jinx wad there to catch it before it could shatter on the floor. Ren asked the girl for some tape, so they could at least get it to stay together. After a couple minutes of mastering the art of taping together broken parts, Ren was able to get the lamp to work.

Once they turned the lamp on, the sudden light made both of them flinch away. Their eyes needed to get used to the glow but soon they were able to take a closer look at the oddities on Jinx's desk.

Now in the light Ren also noticed what appeared to be a sewing kit with a doll next to it. It had goggles over its eyes and was still missing a hand, which was meant to be sewn on soon.

"Wow, brightness." Jinx sat down in the scratched up chair next to the desk. "It's so boring. Where are the silly colors? Its just... light."

"Yeah, but it helps you see." Ren pointed at the grenade parts. "What're you working on there?"

"Ah, that's sum old stuff." she waved her hand dismissively. "I'm kinda in a... an iffy place."

"How so?" Ren crossed their arms.

"I just... can't seem to come up with new ideas, ya know?" she explained as she draped over the chair. Meanwhile Ren rested their hips at the edge of the table. "Like it's easy to make bombs that kill people! But we already have enough of those! I need... a kaboom-schpoof-kachow lil' machine for pops."

"Uhum." Ren hummed before becoming silent.

The first part of her little rant unsettled them. How was it easy for a child to create killing machines? They remembered the flames that overtook the workshop, claiming all those lives. Suddenly the room felt smaller than it was and the air turned denser, making it harder to breathe. It reminded Ren of the smoke that surrounded them as a piltovan girl saved their life.

As the mechanic was staring off into the distance, Jinx slowly sat up. She looked at them curiously at first, but her expression soon changed to one of dread. Her eyebrows scrunched together, eyes getting bigger. The girl was about to open her mouth but then the mechanic finally looked at her.

Ren's expression could only be described as intense. Their eyes darkened, making the silver appear as a darker gray. Large bags under their eyes suddenly became apparent, even if they weren't before. The mechanic's lips were turned down, almost in a frown.

"Have you heard of the explosion in a topside workshop?" Ren's voice came in a monotone way, one that not even they were used to. It made their voice sound lower; and for a moment they wondered if they learned it from Silco.

Jinx averted her gaze, playing with the hems of her shirt.

"Yes." her answer could barely be heard. For a moment her head slightly tilted to the right, almost as if she was listening to something. "I-it wasn't my fault!" 

Ren was surprised by her sudden outburst. Her eyes were staring off to the right, looking at something the mechanic couldn't quite see. 

"No, it wasn't! I didn't! No! Dad said.... I wasn't... No! Shut up! SHUT UP!" she was screaming so loud by the end that Ren practically jumped away from the desk. 

The mechanic's previous coldness was gone and it was replaced with worry. Ren tried moving their hands towards the girl in a slow way, like one would with an injured animal. Jinx's head snapped right towards them, her eyes wide. 

"I remember now." her voice was raspy, like she was trying hard to choke back the tears. "I saw you there. You were there. At the workshop. Oh no. Oh no no no nononononoNoNoNoNONONO."

She was shaking her head, gripping onto it with both her hands. Ren looked at her with wide eyes, unsure what to do or how to deal with whatever she was experiencing. That was until she started hitting her own head. The mechanic jumped to her in seconds, trying to grab her hands. When they saw it was lost cause, they decided against the act, to not further damage the poor girl.

"Jinx!" they tried getting to her with their voice.

She was still trembling in the chair. Ren tried yelling her name again, but she didn't stop. At this point the mechanic was panicking. They have never seen this behaviour before and they weren't sure what they were supposed to do.

"I jinx everything." They could hear her quiet sobs.

"No, no." they kneeled down, hoping to get the girl to see their face. "It's okay. I'm not angry. It's fine."

"I didn't..." she couldn't even finish the sentence before snapping her head to the side, listening to something.

Ren tried whispering her name and Jinx whipped around, eyes wide and tears rolling down her face. Still, she was searching for someone or something behind them. Almost as if the mechanic wasn't even there. It was clear that she was in much distress; like an animal being hunted down.

"Jinx." Ren tried again.

She was still searching for the sound. At this point the mechanic was sure she wasn't able to clearly experience everything around her.

"Jinx, it's okay. I'm here. Me, Ren." they made sure to emphasize each word, hoping it would get to her.

"It was a mistake." she cried, looking past their shoulder, eyes snapping between two... figures.

She then snapped her head to a third place, immediately covering herself with her arms, trying to get away from something.

"No, no, it's okay." Ren tried again. "Jinx listen to me. Listen to my voice. Please."

She opened one of her eyes, in search of soothing. 

"Yes, good." they nodded. "Just focus on me okay. I won't let them hurt you alright? You're safe. I promise."

Her sobs stopped just for a minute before she lunged at the mechanic. They both fell to the floor but Ren didn't have any time to readjust because Jinx completely wrapped herself around them and began crying like there was no tomorrow. After the moment of surprise was gone, Ren hugged her back and started whispering comforting reassurances in her ears.

The mechanic wasn't sure how much time they have spent on the floor, but they were able to get in a sitting position, Jinx curled up in their lap. She was so small like this. Just a small child experiencing something no one should. Ren was still confused by what happened. Their intention was never to hurt Jinx in any way. Now it was clear to them that whatever happened was clearly an accident, otherwise Jinx wouldn't have reacted this way. Guilt was eating them up from the inside for bringing this topic up. 

Soon Jinx raised her head, looking up at Ren. The desk lamp had started flickering in the meantime, wrapping the two up in darkness from time to time. Ren tried hard to hide her face away, hoping the lights won't cause further damage to her mental distress. They looked down at the young girl with a worried face. Her eyes were puffy and red, cheeks wet from the tears. She looked so old. Like she had aged years since they have seen her face.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled.

"Jinx, it's okay." their own voice cracked. "Everything is okay."

The girl looked up at them with big puppy eyes. "You are mad at me."

"No, not at all." Ren shook their head.

"But I saw how you looked at me." she whimpered. "Like I'm a jinx."

"You aren't." they said firmly. "You are just a young girl. This was my fault, and I'm sorry for that."

Her yes widened even further. "But..."

"Seriously. I'm sorry for this." they sighed.

Jinx was just staring at them for a couple seconds. Not blinking, not giving a single sign of life. Ren was scared for a moment, but then something magical happened. Just a small portion of the usual happiness returned to the girl's eyes. 

"Alright, I forgive you." she nodded.

Ren gave her a reassuring smile. They were tired but not more than the girl. If they were honest, Ren wasn't sure what was going to happen now. Jinx wasn't really in a state to work on anything and Ren wasn't going to let her anyway. But if they didn't do anything and Silco or someone else walked in on them like this, they would get to wrong idea. So Ren had to come up with something.

Their attention turned to the flickering lights. Maybe they could work with that. Jinx said she was having trouble with finding new stuff to build, probably because she only had experience making grenades or bombs. But in Ren's opinion, one should always be able to craft anything at hand.

"Hey Jinx, do you feel like watching me work on something?" they questioned. "If not we can just stay here for some more time. You choose."

Jinx looked away for a second, playing with her fingers behind Ren's back. "Well, pops pays you for a reason... So watching you it is."

"You don't have to." Ren shook their head. "Especially not because of your dad. Or money. Only if you really want to, okay?"

Jinx nodded. "Dad says I've been grumpy because of this anyway. So let's do it."

The girl let go of them and they both stood up. Jinx was still holding onto herself, so Ren gave her a reassuring shoulder grab and a smile. They took the broken lamp and turned it off so it wouldn't flicker.

"Okay, we'll start by fixing this lamp." they turned towards Jinx.

"The lamp?" she looked up at them with wide eyes.

"Yes, the lamp." Ren held it up the sky, presenting it to her like some ancient artifact.

"How's that s'posed to help me?" Jinx grumbled.

"You're too focused on only creating one thing, kid." Ren explained. A part of them felt so proud to call someone kid. They were always the one being called that. "By learning to fix other things, you'll get a better understanding of this craft. That's why you needed my help earlier at the bar, right? Because you weren't experienced in it."

"Well, duh." she shrugged. It was good to see her ever so energetic self returning.

"Take a step away from only building weapons." the mechanic smiled. "Learn other things. Make a phonograph, fix a lamp, create some other stuff. You would be surprised how much easier it becomes to build weapons when you have already mastered other stuff. It also gives your creativity a boost."

"Whatever ya say." Jinx rolled her eyes.

"So, where are your tools?"

A few hours went by with Ren fixing "goodies" in Jinx's room. Turns out she had a bunch of scraps scattered about, waiting to be fixed. She told them that she truly intended to do so, but simply didn't know what to start with. It didn't matter because Ren helped them out in the end.

During the little lesson, they taught her how to easily find the issue and different basic methods to try. Of course, these varied from item to item, but a couple shortcuts could be taken everywhere. If an item was similar, it could be fixed by a method used on another one. Once they were done with the basics, Ren began to build the items from scrap. It was a tedious process, but not one they weren't familiar with. They showed the girl how to do it step by step. When they fixed the items, they got a better understanding of how it's built and they tried to replicate that. Jinx watched them work silently, taking in as much information as she could. 

Soon the girl took her own scraps and began mimicking what the mechanic was doing. Oftentimes she looked over at them, asking how to fit together some pieces but for the most part they just sat together in silence, working on their creations. It was odd to see Jinx being this quiet but they couldn't blame her for it. She needed some time to recover and Ren was happy to provide.

"You know, I expected more blood." Ren confessed before taking a big bite out of a shawarma.

"Blood?" Jinx asked, also taking a bite.

Ren swallowed the bite before continuing. "Yeah. I mean I've been here for like two weeks now. Not a single dead person I've seen."

They were being honest, of course. Ever since they started working here, they haven't seen much commotion at the Drop. Ren always imagined the place to be full of tortured people who have wronged Silco. Surprisingly, they also haven't met him.

"Ya know, this place ain't as bad as it seems." she gave them a pointed look. "Sure, pops occasionally has meetings and goes out to do business, or whatever, but he's usually just up there. Working. It's so boring.​​​​​​"

"That why you started working too?" they talked with their mouth full.

"I guess." she shrugged. "I dunno. Have to find some entertainment."

"Mhm, sure"

"You should talk to pops some time." she said in a quieter tone.

"Huh?" Ren choked on the shawarma.

Jinx was silent for a moment, clearly considering her next words. Meanwhile Ren was coughing so hard they had to put their food down on the plate and hold their chest with both hands.

"Well, ya have to learn what weapons and equipment he needs, don't ya?" Jinx tried. "And ya also have to report to him about my progress and whatever."

"I wasn't aware that was my job?" they gave their chest a few gentle punches. "Talking to him, I mean. I agreed to teaching you but this...?"

"Please? For me?" she gave them the biggest puppy eyes. It also didn't help Ren's case that her mouth was full, so she ended up looking like a sad hamster.

"Dammit, you little gremlin." they sighed.

So they ended up going upstairs when they finished eating. Ren thought it was better to get this over with sooner rather than later. Once they have washed their hands and thrown out the packaging, they arrived at the bar part of the building. A few of the goons were idling by, Sevika being one of them. Ren sent her a court nod before taking the steps to Silco's office. Sevika was one of the few people they interacted with here, mostly to ask her about the healing wound, though.

Once the guard let them through, they walked up the familiar corridor. Ren was quite worried about meeting the Eye of Zaun again. Over the weeks they spent here some of that original fear of the man has faded but they knew better than to become comfortable around him. He was still Silco, a Kingpin who had the entirety of Zaun in his hands. It would only take a word and Ren would be dead. Which was not an ideal outcome at all. But in Silco's case, a quick death was a blessing. Usually those who died because of him were found dismembered and tortured beforehand.

Nonetheless, Ren found themselves standing outside his office. They knocked on the door and waited until he bid them entry. Once the door was open and their gaze met with Silco's, the blood instantly ran colder in their veins. Ren gulped before walking inside and closing the door behind them.

"The reason behind you interrupting my work is?" Silco raised an eyebrow as Ren stepped in the middle of the room.

"Jinx advised me to talk to you, sir." they cleared their throat, hands clasped behind their back. "To share her uh, progress and ask what you expect us to build."

"Let's hear it then." he placed down the paper he was working on and the pen in his right hand.

"Your daughter has been improving quite well, I believe." Ren could barely hold eye contact while talking. "She has a natural talent for creating, so I'm not surprised. Jinx has been taking the lessons nicely and has begun to work on more projects lately."

"Mhm, so I've heard." he didn't look especially interested in what was being said to him.

"And about the-"

"Yes," he began, taking a paper from the stacks he had on his desk, "our shimmer factories need the equipment upgraded, alongside more suitable containers for pouring it out. Sevika also made a notice to get her arm fixed. If I have further requests I shall discuss them with Jinx first."

"Understood, sir." Ren nodded. Silco handed out the paper and the mechanic jumped almost immediately to get it.

"Is that all?" he raised an eyebrow, voice as monotone as ever.

"I believe so." they cleared their throat.

Since Silco didn't dismiss them, Ren stayed put for a moment. The Eye was watching them, ever so intimidating, but he only looked in their eye. It was almost as if Silco wanted people to stare at his scarred face. And Ren was sure his intent was similar to what they thought. With that intense gaze of his, surely he would know what sort of effect he had on people. 

"And?" he gestured with his hand.

"And...?" the mechanic questioned him back.

"I've been told that you're getting along with Jinx quite well." for just a moment his face softened. If Ren had blinked at the wrong time they would've missed it.

"Yes, sir." they nodded. "She's a good kid."

"Despite the explosion?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Despite the explosion." Ren repeated.

Silco hummed, blinking for the first time Ren had seen. They were caught off guard by such a simple motion. Ren thought that Silco was somehow able to overcome the need to blink all together. They even thought that Silco simply didn't have human needs, such as hunger, thirst and the rest. Alas, their theory proved to be wrong. 

"You seem a bit on edge." he started. "I wonder what the reason is."

"Oh, just the King of Zaun himself. Nothing much." they said before they could even think about it. Once they shut their mouth they immediately regretted it, hitting themselves on the back of the head in their imagination. 

"Hmm, I heard he's quite something​​​​​​." amusement could be heard in his voice.

"I bet he is. Otherwise he wouldn't scare me." Ren decided to continue the game. Perhaps if they kept the Eye in a good mood, he would choose to forget the blatantly obvious insult.

"Is that true?" he tilted his head slightly, fingers starting to play with the edge of his papers. "And what could the King of Zaun do to make this little mechanic act less like a lamb going to slaughter?"

"Perhaps this "little mechanic" simply just isn't used to being in such an intimidating presence." they shrugged.

Surprisingly, talking to Silco in such a casual way was quite pleasant. Even if it was all a game, something excited Ren about this. Probably because of the high adrenaline in their body, but for the first time since they stepped foot in the Drop, Ren felt like they didn't want to leave his office quite yet. They expected Silco to only be his serious self but this playful side of him caught Ren's attention. And despite the usual wariness, they felt the need to stay. 

"That could easily be fixed." he motioned with his head for Ren to sit down at the small wooden stool.

They followed his instructions, still scared to defy him. Ren was uncomfortable sitting on this chair, especially because their height was doing them injustice. Their head could reach over the desk but their chin was already hidden. Silco on the other hand appeared tall behind the other end, no doubt also being tall when he stands up. Ren was not given the luxury of seeing him in his full might however. 

"When is Jinx expecting you back?" he questioned, opening his drawer and taking out a cigar.

"We didn't really talk about it. But she has projects to work on, so I doubt she'll notice I'm gone for a few minutes."

"Mhm, good." he cut the end of the cigar and reached for his lighter.

When he tried lighting the cigar, no flame came out from it. Silco grumbled before trying again but Ren was already reaching into their pocket. His eyes snapped to them at the sudden movement, and soon they focused on the pack of matches they took out. The Eye of Zaun was warily watching Ren as they slowly raised the box above the desk for the man to see. 

"Matches?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I think they're more efficient." they shrugged.

"How so?" he tilted his head forward a bit, gesturing to the mechanic to light his cigar. 

Ren jumped up, taking a match out of the box and lighting it on fire using the sides. They reached towards Silco's cigar and soon the end became red. The mechanic sit back down, putting the used match back in the box and hiding it in their pocket. 

"If I ever find myself in a sticky situation, I could use it to make a bigger fire." they explained as Silco took his first inhale of smoke. "For example, if I'm ever stuck in a cold environment, I can make a decent sized fire with the already used matches and one more."

"And if you're stuck in water?" he puffed out the smoke.

"Well, I swim." they snorted. "I didn't say it was a solution to all problems. Just that it is more helpful, in my opinion."

"I believe many people could come up with excuses like such for using a lighter." he countered.

"And yet my matches worked and your lighter didn't." Ren smirked. "Ren 1, Silco 0."

For a moment Silco just stared at the mechanic, before releasing an amused huff. He took an inhale of smoke then continued speaking. 

"We shall see where this game of yours takes us." he exhaled the smoke. "You do smoke, I assume."

"Yes, but only cigarettes." they nodded, taking out the pack they had in their pockets. "I swear by this brand. It's the best cigs you get at a lower price."

"Mhm, I'm familiar with it." Silco shook some of the ashes into the ashtray. "But as you can see I'm more of a cigar man myself."

Ren gave him a small smile. "It suits you, sir. I could hardly imagine you with anything else."

"Is that so?" he raised an eyebrow. "The brand of cigarettes you swear by has been around since my childhood and I have indulged myself in it in my younger years."

"Now you are just making yourself older. I bet our childhoods haven't been that far apart." they waved their hands dismissively.

"I highly doubt that." he continued smoking.

"I'm in my mid twenties, sir." they shrugged. "You know Basher's weaponry? I was around... two years old I think, when it opened."

"Twelve." he answered simply.

"A decade ain't nothing." Ren shrugged. "Not much changed at the Lanes during the ten years I spent topside."

Silco's eye narrowed just a little. In turn, the mechanic cleared their throat. It wasn't their intention to upset the Eye by reminding him of their previous dealings. Ren should've known he was still mad at them for their supposed betrayal. 

"Anyway," they looked away awkwardly, "so what's your favorite cigar brand?"

"You wouldn't know it." he seemed to relax after a few silent seconds. "It's from Noxus."

"Noxus?" their eyes widened.

"Not what you expected?" Silco's lip twitched just for a second.

"Well, I think it suits you." Ren shook their head and made motions with their hand while trying to figure out what to say. "I just imagined you'd only be using zaunite cigars."

"I do hate to admit it but our cigars are..." he didn't finish the sentence.

"Utter shit?" Ren questioned.

Silco raised an eyebrow. His mismatched eyes flicked between Ren's silver ones. "Yes."

An amused smile spread on Ren's face. There was no way they heard that right. The Eye of Zaun, the King himself, hated something from the very city he represented. And to top it all off, it was cigars. Not anything else but cigars​​​​​​.

"The mighty King of Zaun hating something of Zaun? Scandalous." Ren gave him a knowing look.

"Quite the scandal, wouldn't it be?" Silco finally finished his cigar, putting it out in the ashtray. "Too bad I'd have to handle the dismemberments of the person who leaked such information."

"Oh, please." Ren raised their left hand, having their robotic arm on display. "What's one less hand? At least they will match."

Silco left out an amused huff. "Believe me, mechanic, your hand wouldn't be the only thing removed."

Ren's mind immediately projected some rather shameful thoughts about Silco's words. They could barely hide the smirk that was creeping up their face. When Silco realised how his words could be interpreted, he rolled his eyes at their immaturity. 

Thankfully all the playfulness didn't ruin their conversation. Instead, it seemed to make talking easier. He was still intimidating but Ren was able to let themselves go while talking to him. Besides, the Eye didn't seem to mind their presence, otherwise he would've told them outright, or perhaps have them executed right then and there. Yet they stayed together for what didn't seem like a long time, but turned out to be an hour long conversation. Ren only left his office because they were afraid Jinx noticed they were missing.

Ren fell backwards as a robotic arm hit them straight in the face. They sit up immediately, looking up at Sevika with wide eyes, eyebrows shooting up towards their hairline. The woman was holding her robotic arm down, trying to take control of the machine. At first she tried to be gentle with it, as Ren tried to turn it off. Sadly the robotic arm was too out of control for the both of them, so with a few confident and strong punches, the machines fell to her side.

"Fucking trash." Sevika undid the belts securing the arm and tossed it on the floor of the bar. She let at a sigh as she looked down at the mechanic.

"You weren't joking when you said it was out of control." they were holding their jaw, trying to massage away the pain.

"Yeah, told you." she snorted. "So you're able to fix it or not?"

"I'll see what I can do." Ren nodded. "Hopefully I won't get hit this time."

"You should work on your reaction time." she looked away.

Both of them were sitting in a secluded corner of the bar, Sevika downing an entire bottle of alcohol. She held the bottle in her right hand, only sending judgmental looks over at Ren. They didn't mind it and instead inspected the mostly broken arm. Sevika told them she had hit too hard during a fight and her arm hasn't been working well since. Ren turned it over in their hands, touching all the damaged parts. It was clear that most if not all of it had to be replaced. They placed down the arm with a sigh, biting their lip as they looked at the metal scraps.

"That bad?" Sevika asked, her voice taking an annoyed tone.

"This was clearly not optimized to your physique." Ren shook their head. "Or your strength, honestly. You also need something that isn't as heavy as this one, it would help you throwing punches without accidentally damaging yourself."

"So?" she leaned forward, trapping the mechanic to the corner.

"Well, it needs a rework to prevent any further accidents." they laid it out plainly.

"Shit." Sevika sighed before taking another long sip.

Ren was rubbing their left hand as they tried to find a solution. The easiest way to fix this issue would be to completely change her arm but that would be tedious and it would take time. But if Sevika doesn't have her left arm, she won't be able to do her job. On the other hand - or rather arm -, fixing the current one would only solve one problem but create more further in the future. Ren was absolutely sure the arm would malfunction again without upgrading it.

"I'll go talk to Silco." Ren decided. "He'll decide what we should do. I can just fix this arm, which won't take as much time but it's not the method I recommend."

"He won't be happy you're interrupting him." Sevika warned them. 

"Well if he wants to run a business, he'll have to put up with it." the mechanic shrugged. "This is important."

"Fine, just don't ask me to scrape up your remains once he's done with you." the woman shooed them away.

The mechanic huffed a laugh as they walked towards the infamous stairs. Over the past few weeks they have visited Silco's office a rough three times, and yet even now they felt a bit uneasy going up to him. Ren didn't fear for their life now, sure, but that didn't mean that all of the fear was gone. Silco was still the very man who hooked the entire Undercity on shimmer, making it practically impossible to get rid of his influence. If people were suddenly denied shimmer, they would certainly riot against anyone who dared take their drug. It would be a lie to say that Silco could be overthrown. 

But focusing on the current moment, and not the terrifying images in their head, Ren was able to get atop the stairs. The same corridor greeted them, long and dark, much like the rest of the Undercity. A single overhead lamp was the only light source, and of course what lights came from the club. Ren slid by the less important rooms, only stopping in front of Silco's office. They knocked three times, and once the King of Zaun had bid them entry, they walked in. 

Silco was sitting in his chair as usual. The green light shining on the golden edges of his cuffs. He didn't even look up at the mechanic. Not that he needed to, Ren had figured out by now that Silco always knew who was coming to his office. But of course, that didn't mean that Silco would be happy to see them. Their conversations were always transactional and the mechanic still very much feared accidentally angering the crime lord. As Ren was taking their time looking at the man, he finally turned to them. 

With a half drank glass of alcohol in his hand, he leaned back in his chair. But he didn't start a conversation. For a couple moments the two were simply just staring at each other, perhaps playing a game of stare. Of course, no one could win against the Kingpin. When Ren's eyes finally grew tired and they blinked, a small twitch of Silco's mouth could be seen. Only if one payed close attention though. This to him no doubt meant admitting defeat. And once again, he came out on top. Like he always does. 

"I assume there's a good reason for interrupting me?" he gently rolled the glass around in his left hand. 

"Yes," Ren cleared their throat as their voice was threatening to give out, "it's about Sevika's arm."

Silco let out a long sigh after that. His already tired eyes drooped even further. They Eye of Zaun took a sip from his drink before talking. "Only troublesome news, I presume?"

"Unfortunately." Ren nodded, pressing their lips in a thin line. 

"As it always is." he agreed.

Looking down at him, it was hard to see the big, scary Eye of Zaun that Ren always imagined. Now the circles under his eyes that he tried so hard to bury with makeup were showing through. He most likely didn't even realise he had smudged the concealer on his face. Ren wasn't sure how he could work so much. Everytime they were at the Drop, Silco was either working in his office or out there doing business. Ren would've probably felt bad for him, were he not the most dangerous person in the whole of the Undercity; and also a cold hearted man who infested the Lanes with a drug that could do irreversible damage to anyone's body. No matter how human he looked and acted, he was just that. A man who had more power in his hands than he should've. 

"So?" he nudged them to continue. 

"Well, I believe that Sevika needs an entirely new arm." they started explaining. "Even if I fix the current one, it was not crafted as a weapon. Continuing her work, she would damage it again and again. Every few months, maybe weeks even, she would have to get it fixed."

"How much would that cost?" he massaged his temple.

"Far more than getting a new one." the mechanic snorted. "However, this has to be a bigger investment. Sevika uses her arm quite frequently, which means the better metals I can use to make the arm, the longer it will last."

"Can you point to what materials you would need to complete this task?" Silco grabbed an empty paper. "And the estimated amount?"

"Sure." Ren nodded. 

They began listing the best metals to their knowledge and the all the other materials they would need to make a prosthetic arm. Estimating an amount was harder though. Ren told Silco honestly that failure was very much a possibility and they would need more of everything just in case. In worst case scenario, all the parts would be used up in making the arm. In best case scenario however, those parts could be used in the future for potential upgrades or fixing damaged parts. 

After some convincing, Silco gave his seal of approval. He promised to have someone find these parts, while Ren were to fix Sevika's current arm just enough until the replacement gets done. With that they were sent out and put to work. Silco was clearly busy so Ren didn't want to rob him of more time anyway. 

Once down at the bar, they reported to Sevika. For just a moment they could see her relieved expression. It disappeared soon but Ren caught it just in time. The mechanic didn't mention it though, knowing well that it could just worsen the already rocky relationship they had with the woman. Instead they both sat down and worked on the existing metal arm. Or, rather Ren worked and Sevika either spoke to the other goons or played some cards. Fixing the arm wasn't too hard. Ren just tightened a few screws and undid some dents and it was good to go. Only for the time being, of course. By the time Ren was done with it, all the others have walked away, no doubt preparing for opening the club. Meanwhile Ren helped Sevika place back the arm to its place.

The woman winced once it was on. Ren stopped in their track, inspecting her. She looked away with a scoff, but she made no move to get away. The mechanic dropped their hands to their side, still watching Sevika. Her eyes drifted at Ren for a moment before looking away from them again. 

"One word of this to anyone and I'll make you eat your own arm." she grumbled just loud enough for them to hear.

Ren raised their arms defensively. "It hurts doesn't it? Just not the correct prosthetic for you. There's no shame in that."

"What do you know about it?" Sevika scoffed.

The mechanic flicked their left forearm, and in turn the metal made a loud noise. "When I first hurt my hand, I simply couldn't pay the doctors enough to cut it all off. So instead, they covered it in metal to keep it from falling apart. Only, it was cheap metal because that's all I could afford. But it wasn't right. The pain I felt for months was so intense the only way I could exist was by taking medicine. Then as time passed, I got upgrades until I found the perfect one for me."

"And?" despite looking at them with an angry expression, Sevika was listening to them intently. 

"What I'm trying to say is that it's understandable that you're in pain." they shrugged. "It's not something to be ashamed of. But I'm here to help you, and I understand how it feels. I need you to be honest with me about the pain, alright? So I can craft the best arm for you."

Sevika looked away completely. Ren knew it was much to ask, especially here in Zaun. Showing vulnerability meant certain death, yet her honesty was as important for this process as Ren's knowledge and experience. It was a heavy topic, no doubt involving much trauma but it had to be talked about. For the sake of everyone. 

"How long?" Ren asked. 

"Hmm?" Sevika fully turned to them. 

"How long have you had your arm?" they nodded towards the prosthetic.

Sevika was silent for a moment, only watching them with furrowed eyebrows. But then she sighed. "Two years."

"Mhm, I see." Ren looked around the club. They watched as the staff cleaned the tables and took the glasses used by the goons away. "I had mine for a decade. Not looking like this at first, of course. At first it was just my hand not the whole forearm. When it happened, my bones were still growing somewhat because I was in the middle of my teens. The skin was pulling as well. It hurt like shit."

They laughed before looking back at Sevika. The woman was eyeing them curiously. Her expression turned to neutral rather than angry.

"But this thing," they tapped their current robotic arm, "is as good as it can get. I don't even feel pain most of the time. So don't you worry, you're in safe hands. Or rather your arm is."

She scoffed. "I must be imagining things, but it sounds oddly like you are trying to be emotional with me, mechanic."

"Little ol' me?" Ren snickered. "Don't be ridiculous. I'm known for my cold hearted personality."

The woman chuckled, a rich and deep sound. Ren cherished it. Ever since they have entered the Drop for the first time, they had not seen Sevika smile once. Let alone laugh. They could tell that she was warming up to them. Sadly it was gone as fast as it came. 

"I don't know what you're after." she looked them dead in the eye. "But I suggest you stop whatever you are doing. I'm not your friend. I only tolerate you because you work for Silco. That's it."

"No threats on my life?" Ren raised an eyebrow. "Am I growing on you or what?"

Sevika rolled her eyes before standing up and walking away. Ren looked after her with a smug smile on their face. Once she was out of sight, Ren turned to their equipment and began planning the metal arm. They took out a paper and a pen, starting to put ideas down. After a few sketches, they were shooed away from the booth they were sitting at because the staff had to clean it. So instead they walked over to the counter and continued drawing, hoping to finish before the customers walked in. 

Coming up with a whole new idea proved more difficult than they anticipated. On one hand, they had to take into account the weight of the metal they would use, on the other, they also had to make it intact enough to survive most if not all fights. They also had to think about making it as comfortable for Sevika as they possibly could. Not just that but also practical. Both for fighting but also her shimmer intake. Ren didn't quite approve of it but she said it was a necessity in some fights. So they also started thinking about a built in shimmer dispenser. 

Most of the sketches were either left halfway done or Ren outright just crossed them out. The loud noises certainly weren't helping them. Ren was already used to hearing the commotion outside but the bar was something else. Some of the workers were so loud the mechanic couldn't even hear their own thoughts. One of the goons also liked running around his mates, often bumping into Ren as well. It was tiresome dealing with them, so they ordered a drink to help them relax. 

Ren knew they didn't have much time left before The Last Drop would open but they were nowhere near done with the blueprint. In fact, they didn't even know how they could execute their ideas yet. Everything remained a sketch. With a couple glasses already down, it was starting to get easier to ignore the commotion around them. But not even alcohol was strong enough to make all the noises disappear. That is until everyone became quiet. 

Even in deep creative process, Ren sensed the change in the atmosphere and looked up from their sketches. At first they thought maybe the bar opened but they didn't see anyone walk in. That's when they felt someone brush against them as the person sat down next to the mechanic. Ren whipped their head around in surprise, seeing none other than Silco ordering a drink.

"The usual." he said to the bartender. 

Silco didn't look at the mechanic as the bartender was preparing his drink. Of course, Ren just eyed him suspiciously. It was unheard of to see the Eye come down just for a drink. Even the other goons were looking at him as if they just saw a ghost. Ren never quite realised how much of an influence Silco's aura had. But now, looking around the bar, they saw that wherever he went, respect followed him. 

Once the drink was done and the bartender gave it to him, he turned his head slightly, just to be able to look at Ren from the corner of his damaged eye. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"I'm working." they shrugged. 

"Today was your day off." he pointed out, taking a long sip from his drink. 

"Yeah, and it just so happened that Sevika only had time today." Ren snorted. "And Jinx is at the training. So where would I go?"

It was true. Every three times a week, Jinx was to attend a special training that got her prepared for defense. She never really talked about what she was learning exactly, but she never seemed to dislike it. During this time, her room was locked and Ren was banished to work on all the current projects in the middle of the bar. Yet, it was true that they usually stayed away from the bar when not necessary. 

"Home?" Silco tried. 

"I'd rather not take this home." Ren groaned, burying their head in their right hand. "I have plenty of blueprints there already. Jinx is on a creative spree."

"The gift of youth, I suppose." he sighed. 

"Whatever you say, old man." the mechanic rolled their eyes. 

Silco released a quiet chuckle. "So what is it that you're working on?"

Ren slid the papers over to him. The man took them graciously, looking through each sketch with interest. There was a long silence between the two and Ren didn't dare break it. Finally, the man looked up at them.

"And all of these ideas you've rejected?" Silco questioned.

"Well, yes." they nodded. Silco made a motion for them to continue so they did. "I'm looking to achieve three aspects. One, it has to be light. If it is too heavy, Sevika simply won't be able to punch as effectively. Her balance will be thrown off and it would take a long time to learn how to properly fight with this. I'm surprised she got so far with that arm of her's as it is."

Ren turned away from Silco, looking at the bottles displayed behind the bar. As they were talking, they moved their hands around in excitement. 

"Two, it has to be useful." they continued, pointing at one of the sketches they were working on. "Like on this one, the idea behind it is Sevika's habit to boost herself with shimmer. If I can incorporate a shimmer dispenser into the arm, it could be twice as effective as it was before! Sure there's a problem with weight because liquid can be quite heavy. Which is why I'm having problems with the planning."

"And the third?" Silco tried to get them back on course. 

"Ah right," Ren cleared their throat, "the third is the prosthetic being comfortable."

Silco raised an eyebrow at that but didn't make any comments.

"Don't look at me like that." the mechanic scoffed. "I know from first hand how hard it is to deal with a robotic arm that isn't comfortable. Constantly feeling discomfort could easily count as a distraction! We can't have Sevika be distracted while out on business, can we?"

"Mhm, I suppose." the Eye took another sip. "I still fail to see the problem."

"Well, it's somewhere in the calculations I think." they sighed. "It just feels like no matter how hard I try I cannot incorporate all the three. The metals I know are simply not fit for all of these."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." Silco decided to end the topic. 

"Yeah, not like I have much sleep to get." they shrugged. "Will probably work on it all night."

The Eye didn't answer to that. Ren turned to him, searching his face but he was looking far ahead of him. His eye didn't seem focused on anything in particular, rather just ahead of him. It was clear that he was deep in thought. A wild laughter burst out a few tables behind the two. Ren looked towards the source, only to see someone laugh over a set of cards. 

"Why not go elsewhere? Surely this isn't the most pleasant place to work at?" Silco broke the silence between them. 

"And where would I go?" they turned back to him. "Jinx is out, and her room is locked. The bathrooms are constantly used and there's not much space there anyway. I have tried the storage room, yes, but... I soon found out that's where my fellow co-workers like to have sex. It was awkward."

Silco winced only slightly at the mention of what his employees were doing behind closed doors. 

"So yeah, I either work at the counter or in one of the booths." they finished. "Other choice is taking the work home, which I will probably do tonight. How much time do we have until the bar opens?"

"It opens in about ten minutes." Silco finished his drink. Just as he was done, the bartender placed an entire bottle of alcohol on the counter.

Ren chuckled at that. "So what, you came down to steal the goodies before the customers get to it?" 

The man turned to them with an unamused expression. "I don't need to steal my own stock."

The mechanic smirked at that. Silco released a grunt before standing up and gathering his glass and the bottle of alcohol in his hands. Once he was done he walked towards the stairs before stopping in his track. Ren raised an eyebrow when they saw him turn around. It appeared that Silco was looking at them expectantly, yet Ren wasn't aware what he could possibly want. 

"We're both going to work long into the night, no?" he raised an eyebrow. "If you don't wish to bring your ideas home you are welcome to join me in my office. That is, if you behave."

Ren's eyes widened at the opportunity. Turning it down would be foolish of them, so they jumped from their seat, gathering all the papers in their hands. It was a mess but somehow they were able to take everything. Silco only regarded them with a twitch of his lips before turning around and walking upstairs. Ren was following him close behind but had to stop once because they dropped two papers. The Eye didn't stop of course, so they had to ran all the way up to catch up to him. 

Once they got to the door, Silco opened it before walking inside, leaving it open for Ren to enter. They pushed through somehow and closed the door with their hips. In the meantime, Silco walked over to his desk and took his usual seat. He didn't say anything to the mechanic, so they assumed the "behaving rule" had already started. So they silently sat down on the floor, pulling the papers apart. Quite a few of them were crumpled up, making Ren groan as they tried to straighten them. The sound of glass clinking was the only thing that made them raise their head. Silco was pouring himself a drink. However it confused Ren that there were two glasses on his table instead of just one. 

"Do you drink?" he questioned once the glass with golden trims was filled. 

"Depends on the drink." they shrugged. 

"Noxian whiskey?" 

"Strange, Noxus comes up quite a lot when it comes to your preferences." Ren joked. "I would like a drink though, thank you."

"At least you have manners, I suppose." he sighed before pouring another glass with the most unamused face the mechanic has ever seen. 

Ren jumped to their feet and walked over to Silco's desk, taking the drink in hand. They whispered cheers before bringing it to their lips and taking a sip. Many people would describe the taste of whiskey as rich and with a touch of sweetness to it. But to Ren it just tasted like any other alcohol. It burned their throat while swallowing and warmed them up from the inside. 

"It is certainly good." they agreed, knowing well what a bad drink tastes like.

"Good? Is that all?" Silco wondered. 

"Apologies, sir." they shrugged. "Not much of a taster while drinking. I drink to have fun. But if it's any consolation, I can tell that it's quality whiskey."

"Well I suppose one cannot be skilled at everything." he hummed. 

"That's an insult I never thought I would hear." Ren snorted. "For your interest, I'm a very skilled person. Especially with my hands."

Ren only realised later what their sentence has implied. It was to late to take it back so they only hoped Silco wasn't going to get angry at them. The man, as always, was staring at them with a neutral expression. His eyes were following Ren's movement but the rest of him was frozen in place. 

"I thought I made the rules clear?" he talked in a monotone voice. Silco didn't seem particularly angry, at least not more than he usually is. 

"What is it you think I implied?" Ren gasped dramatically, clenching their fist to their chest. "I simply meant I'm skilled at crafting."

Silco raised an eyebrow at that. "Get back to work or get out of my office"

The mechanic saluted him before going back to their spot. Ren hopped down the floor and took a sip of their drink before putting it down next to them. After that, the working began. For hours the only sound in the room was the frantic scribbling of Ren's pen and the elegant one of Silco's. Occasionally Ren stood up and poured themselves another glass, which Silco didn't stop so they assumed they were allowed to do so. 

However, they didn't get much progress with their plans. They wanted to start working on the arm as soon as the materials arrived but at this rate they wouldn't be able to. Ren went through a bunch of papers already and their plan still wasn't working. No matter how hard they tried something was off. It was either too heavy or too impractical. Or the design was simply so uncomfortable that Sevika would have an even worse time with it than before. So Ren gave up after trying so many times and started doodling the best design they could think of. Just for fun they also added a sword because they thought it would be cool. Of course, no metal they ever worked with could possibly make it work but the design did look amazing. 

Ren's gaze only turned to Silco when they heard him sigh. He was hunched over the table, burying himself in his work. With his left hand we trying to ease the tension of his brows. They could see how tense he was overall, no doubt because the lack of sleep and the overwhelming amount of work. Ren was aware how much paperwork could pile up overtime but Silco worked hard everyday and it seemed impossible to have this much left. 

Of course, after some time their gaze began wandering and inspecting Silco closer. They haven't noticed the graying on his roots before but now it didn't seem possible to miss. Ren also finally noticed just how much Jinx influenced his office. A mug with neon painted monkey face stood on his desk, next to an ashtray that was decorated with similar colors. The mechanic had no doubt that Silco had many more gifts from Jinx that weren't on display at the moment.

It was somewhat confusing to see Silco so human. All the tales about him warned people about a heartless monster ready to sacrifice any life for his goals. Just a cruel man willing to destroy. Yet over the time Ren was here they didn't experience that monster, which is why this whole situation was unsettling. They knew about his shimmer empire and didn't even dare think about what else he was doing. But at the end of the day Silco was just like them, a human. 

"Why do you work so much?" Ren decided to ask. 

Silco's writing halted as he slowly raised his gaze to the mechanic. For a moment he didn't answer, probably weighting his options. "It is my duty to work."

"Your duty?" they snorted. "To what?"

"Zaun." was his only answer.

Zaun. His answer was not surprising to Ren, yet they disagreed deep down. They saw the shimmer addicts weep on the streets, the lives Silco had destroyed in his rise to power. The fear that overshadowed the Undercity has never been so grave before. And yet Silco didn't care. 

"The shimmer infested streets, the fear in people's eyes, is that part of your duty as well?" they questioned him. 

"Is that what you think I do?" he raised an eyebrow. 

"Pff, it's all I see outside." Ren shrugged. "Just the pain caused by you."

"You are close minded then." Silco placed his pen on the table. "I don't care what you or the rest of Zaun thinks of me. It is my duty, as a son of Zaun, to make it rise from the ashes and become what it was always meant to be. The Nation of Zaun, a sovereign nation known worldwide."

His face changed as he was talking about the Nation. It became softer and the tension disappeared from his face. Silco was talking about it as if it was a dream. 

"But that power isn't freely given to us." he continued, his face twisting back to it's original state. "I won't rest until I see Piltover and the rest of the world beg at our feet. So the sons and daughters of Zaun can finally see what our lives were meant to be."

Ren looked away, taking his words in. If Silco was telling the truth, his goal was noble. The mechanic could even agree with it. But the memories of all they've seen and all heard still screamed loudly in their head to not believe a single word the man said. Yet a rather selfish part of them was begging to trust his words; to see hope. 

"So yes, it is my duty to work." Silco finished. "And unlike many others before me, I'm willing to do anything to see our nation rise."

The mechanic was thinking for a moment. "And all of this is necessary? Shimmer, the violence and everything else?"

"For the time being." he nodded. 

It was certainly something to think about. On one hand, Ren didn't approve of Silco's shimmer empire and the way he treated everyone else. On the other hand, they understood that due to the current position of Zaun, it was impossible to get results otherwise. A truly conflicting situation.

"And do you honestly believe you can achieve this? That this can be our future?" they turned back to Silco with determination in their eyes. 

"I don't believe it, I know it." he rested his case. 

Ren nodded to themselves. What Silco told them was rather inspiring. Like any other zaunite, Ren wished for nothing more than to be treated as human and not as a lesser being. If Silco could achieve that, then surely all sacrifices must be worth it. The future generations of Zaun not having to suffer like those before them. It sounded almost too good to be true. But the confidence in Silco's eyes, the determination in his voice convinced Ren. 

"Then I'll do anything in my power to help you. To help Zaun." they turned back to their papers. "Just promise me you're telling the truth."

"A promise isn't worth anything." Silco shook his head, also returning to his work. "You shall see the profit of it all and it will suffice as a promise."

"I will take you on your word, Silco."