#and uphold his own code of nobility

[teddyoverthinks]

doubting doctrine; realizing the option to use privilege for good

Arthur wonders if he had known she was a sorceress before the burning. He had been running on the assumption that the man was an active participant, because his father always said they only arrest the guilty, but… well, if you live in a place with your wife, of course people would think you were guilty, just for being there. 

Arthurs stomach squirms with discomfort. He's not behaved nobly. And for what? To impress this ally of his? He could probably kick Abelard in the head and he would still be nice to him, because he's the prince.

—Foxy_Mulder, Golden

[hayatheauthor]

How to Pick The Perfect Weapon For Your Characters 

When you’re writing a novel every small element has its own purpose. From the lush setting to the intricate plot, each detail is carefully chosen to convey a message, evoke emotions, and immerse readers in the narrative. One such crucial element is the character's weapon. 

A character’s weapon is their best friend, sometimes even literally in cases like Magnus Chase. This seemingly insignificant tool can be a symbol of their essence, values, and role in the story. This is why it’s so essential to pick the right weapon!

As an author of both thriller and SFF, I decided to create a quick guide to help you learn how to pick the perfect weapon for your characters. 

Swords: The Symbol of Honor and Valor

Swords have long held a special place in the realm of storytelling. They are the embodiment of honor, valor, and the chivalric code. Whether it be thriller, action, or even romance, stories have sported brave princes and knights bearing swords from decades. Characters who wield a sword are perceived as strong, determined people with a willingness to make sacrifices for their cause. 

Some writers often associate swords with the main male protagonist, however, this weapon would be a great fit for any character who is perceived as a force to be reckoned with. The cliche prince on a horse with a shiny sword might paint a clear image, but don’t limit yourself to literary stereotypes.  

Types of Swords

Contrary to popular belief swords come in various shapes and sizes, each with its unique attributes. 

Longswords: These versatile weapons are known for their balance, allowing for precise strikes and powerful swings. Longswords are often associated with knights and heroes. These are the type of swords a typical prince would wield. 

Katanas: Elegant and deadly, katanas are the traditional swords of Japanese samurai. They represent discipline, precision, and the way of the warrior. Katanas are also often used by antagonists. 

Rapiers: Slim and agile, rapiers are the choice of swashbucklers and duelists. They symbolize finesse, quick thinking, and style in combat.

Ideal Characters

If you’re finding it difficult to decide whether or not your character should wield a sword, here are some personality traits and physical qualities to go off of: 

Courage: Swordsmen and swordswomen are brave, unafraid to confront danger directly.

Honor: They uphold a strong sense of morality and adhere to a code of ethics. However, this also applies to antagonistic characters who often fail to see the flaws in their ways. 

Chivalry: Sword-bearing characters display manners, respect, and hold themselves to high regard.

Physical Prowess: Proficiency in swordplay demands agility, strength, and dexterity, this usually comes with a fit if not lean physique. If your character is more of a brute then swords might not be the best pick for them. 

Examples in Literature

Throughout literary history, swords have been embraced by iconic characters. You have chivalrous heroes like the legendary King Arthur wielded the mythical sword Excalibur, a symbol of his destiny and nobility. However, there are also notable villains such as Luke Castellan from Percy Jackson. 

Luke’s character starts off as a minor protagonist who is akin to a mentor figure but he slowly turns into a major antagonist. Many people often associate swords with protagonists, however, they can also be used by powerful antagonists with a strong mindset who are determined to have their way. 

When crafting a character who wields a sword, consider these attributes and the symbolic weight that comes with this choice. Swords are not just weapons; they are embodiments of valor and the unwavering spirit of your characters. 

Daggers: The Stealthy and Cunning Choice

In the world of weaponry, daggers hold a unique allure. These swift blades are the embodiment of stealth, cunning, and the art of silent confrontation. When a character wields a dagger, it signifies their mastery of subtlety, their ability to navigate the shadows, and their readiness to strike with precision when the moment is ripe. 

Unlike swords, daggers have been used more uniquely throughout literature and are wielded by various character types. However, they are often associated with the sarcastic quick-witted characters or quiet calculative ones.

Types of Daggers

Daggers come in various forms, each tailored for a specific purpose:

Stilettos: A stiletto's slim, needle-like design is tailor-made for covert operations. It's the weapon of choice when subtlety and concealment are paramount, often associated with assassins and spies.

Dirks: Dirks are the Swiss Army knives of the dagger world. Their broad blades enable both offense and defense, making them versatile companions for characters who value adaptability.

Throwing Knives: Characters who wield throwing knives are the sharpshooters of the dagger realm. Their skill lies not just in close combat but in launching these deadly projectiles with uncanny accuracy.

Twin Daggers: Twin daggers, a pair of symmetrical blades, represent a double-edged approach to combat. Characters who favor this style emphasize agility, dual-wielding techniques, and the element of surprise.

Ideal Characters for Dagger-Wielding

Characters who favor daggers share a distinct set of traits and characteristics:

Stealth and Evasion: Dagger-wielding characters excel in the art of remaining unseen and slipping through the tightest of spots.

Cunning and Strategy: They rely on their wits, strategy, and clever tactics to outmaneuver opponents who might possess greater physical strength.

Resourcefulness: Daggers are versatile tools that require characters to adapt to their environment. Whether in a dimly lit alley or a sun-drenched courtyard, they use what's at hand to gain an advantage.

Quick Reflexes: In close combat, precision and agility are essential. Dagger-wielders are known for their ability to react swiftly to changing circumstances.

Examples in Literature

In the realm of literature, characters who master the art of daggers often exude enigma and resourcefulness. Unlike sword-wielders who are seen as flashy and bold, those who use daggers are capable of slinking through the shadows and using their weapon to sneakily complete their tasks.  

Arya Stark from George R.R. Martin's "Game of Thrones" series is a great example of this. Arya's journey is intrinsically tied to her slender dagger, Needle. It becomes an extension of herself, embodying her resilience and resourcefulness.

Another example would be the assassins in the "Assassin's Creed" series. These stealthy characters employ an array of daggers for precise and silent takedowns, epitomizing the cunning and agility associated with this weapon.

Crafting a character who wields a dagger opens up possibilities for intrigue, stealth, and the art of subterfuge.

Axes: The Brute Force of the Battlefield

Axes, with their sheer power and imposing presence, are the weapons of characters who favor raw strength and ferocity on the battlefield. These formidable tools are more than mere instruments of destruction; they symbolize the unyielding force that some characters bring to their quests and conflicts.

Unlike the other weapons listed in this blog post, axes are possibly the only weapon where I would advise you to go with the stereotypical ‘big, strong person’ image associated with this weapon. This is because axes are impossible to wield on a regular basis by someone who isn’t physically capable of handling their weight. 

Types of Axes

It is common knowledge that axes come in various forms, each designed for specific purposes, but here are the most common types of axes used in literature:

Battle-Axes: These massive, double-bladed weapons are designed for cleaving through armor and enemies alike. They are the embodiment of relentless strength and often used by the antagonist’s henchmen or guards.

Hatchets: Hatchets are compact, one-handed axes known for their versatility and practicality. They are often associated with survivalists and woodsmen.

Tomahawks: Tomahawks are single-handed axes with a historical significance, representing both tools and weapons for Native American characters.

Ideal Characters

As I mentioned above, there are certain traits associated with characters who use axes that you would be better off following. However, that is not to say you have to go along with the stereotype to the T. Think of characters like Hagrid, who fits the physical and mental requirements for an axe-wielder yet is portrayed as a loveable character. 

Some traits you should keep in mind to use as a reference point for axe-wielders are: 

Bravery: Axe-wielding characters are unflinchingly brave, charging headlong into battles without hesitation.

Ferocity: They are known for their unrestrained aggression and determination in combat. However, they can also be quiet and keep to themselves in daily life. 

Physical Might: Proficiency with axes demands exceptional strength and endurance.

Resilience: Axe-bearers can endure heavy blows and keep pressing forward.

Examples in Literature

In literature, characters who wield axes are often forces to be reckoned with. They’re those powerful characters that leave a lasting impact on your readers. Think of characters like Thor, Brienne of Tarth and Gimli. 

While this weapon is generally associated with magical beings like dwarves and giants you could also have fun with it. Maybe a hot-headed female elf prefers using an axe rather than swords and bows like her peers, or a princess could have picked up on how to use a hatchet while watching the guards train. 

Remember, axes represent not only power but also the indomitable will to face adversity head-on.

Bows and Arrows: Precision and Patience

In the realm of weaponry, few choices demand as much finesse and discipline as the bow and arrow. These elegant yet deadly weapons are the preferred tools of characters who value precision, patience, and the ability to engage their enemies from afar. As the arrow leaves the bowstring, it represents not only a physical projectile but also a testament to the archer's skill and the unwavering focus required for this art.

Types of Bows 

Archery encompasses a range of styles, each offering unique advantages and reflecting the character of the archer:

Longbows: Known for their simplicity and sheer power, longbows have been used by legendary archers throughout history. Drawing a longbow requires considerable strength and skill, making it the choice of archers who value raw force and accuracy.

Compound Bows: Modern archers often favor compound bows, which employ a system of pulleys and cables to provide mechanical advantage. This design makes them easier to draw and hold at full draw, ideal for hunters and those who value both accuracy and ease of use.

Recurve Bows: Recognized by their gracefully curved limbs, recurve bows store and release energy efficiently. These bows are versatile, often used in competitive archery where precision and consistency are paramount.

Crossbows: Crossbows are handheld devices that offer unique advantages, particularly in terms of precise aiming and ease of use. Archers who value accuracy and a quick reload often choose these weapons.

The Ideal Archer

Characters who become proficient with bows and arrows exhibit a distinctive set of attributes and skills:

Patience: Archers are masters of patience, waiting for the perfect moment to release their arrow, whether in the heat of battle or during a hunt.

Precision: They possess an uncanny aim, able to consistently strike distant targets with pinpoint accuracy.

Stealth: Archers can engage their enemies from a concealed vantage point, using the environment to their advantage.

Stamina: Drawing a bow requires not only finesse but also physical strength and endurance, especially when handling longbows.

Examples in Literature

In the world of literature, characters who master the art of archery often personify these traits:

Katniss Everdeen from Suzanne Collins' "The Hunger Games" series is the perfect example of a typical archer. Katniss's skill with a bow becomes a symbol of her survival and resilience in a dystopian world, her weapon is something she can rely on and trust. It isn’t as flashy or bold as some of the other characters’ weapons, however, her weapon’s, often-overlooked, proficiency helps her overcome her opponents. 

Another good example would be Legolas from J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" trilogy. Legolas, an elf archer, is renowned for his exceptional accuracy and agility, traits that make him a formidable member of the Fellowship.

When crafting a character who wields a bow and arrows, delve into their temperament, motivations, and the patience required for their style of combat. Bows and arrows represent not only precision but also the ability to strike with calculated efficiency from a distance.

Magical Weaponary: Enchanted Tools

Magical implements, imbued with mystic energy, are the tools of wizards, witches, and characters who harness the arcane forces of magic. These enchanted objects represent not only power but also the mastery of spells, incantations, and the unseen forces that shape their world.

Types of Magical Weaponary

Magical implements can take various forms, each with its unique properties and associations:

Wands: Wands are slender instruments often associated with precision spellcasting. The type of wood and core material can influence their magical properties.

Staffs: Staffs are longer and more robust than wands, often associated with wizards and sorcerers. They provide greater control over magic and are sometimes used as a support in physical combat.

Orbs: Enchanted orbs or crystals are used for scrying, divination, and channeling magical energy. They are linked to foresight, vision, and mystical insight.

Runestones: Characters who use runestones possess knowledge of ancient symbols and magical scripts. These stones are often used for inscriptions and rituals.

Amulets and Talismans: These enchanted jewelry pieces provide protective or augmentative effects to the wearer. They can be worn as necklaces, rings, or bracelets.

Ideal Characters

Characters who wield magical implements typically possess specific traits and qualities:

Magical Aptitude: Wielders of magical implements have an innate or learned mastery of magic, allowing them to cast spells and manipulate mystical forces.

Intellect: Magic is a craft that requires knowledge and intelligence, and characters with magical implements often excel in both.

Discipline: Effective spellcasting demands discipline and concentration, traits exhibited by wielders of magical tools.

Morality: The ethical choices made by characters with magical implements can impact their magical abilities and alignment.

Examples in Literature

Picking the right magical instrument for your character can either be very easy or difficult depending on the extent of magic bearers in your book. If your book is akin to Harry Potter you can simply pick one magical weaponry and assign it to a group of characters. Maybe your wizards and witches use wands while your warlocks use staffs. 

However, in a book like J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings" series, where you have one specific magic bearer like Gandalf, you would have to pay more attention to the type of weapon you assign to your character. Gandalf's staff is not only a tool for his magical abilities but also a symbol of his wisdom and power. If you were to assign a wand to a character like Gandalf it wouldn’t have the same air of sagacity as a staff. 

Modern Firearms: Technology and Precision

Modern firearms represent a significant departure from traditional weapons, harnessing technology and precision to deliver deadly force with incredible efficiency. These weapons are the choice of characters in contemporary settings, from gritty crime dramas to action-packed thrillers.

Firearm Types

Modern firearms encompass a range of types, each tailored to specific purposes. I’m sure you can find a more detailed list anywhere online but here’s a quick list of the basic types. 

Handguns: Pistols and revolvers are compact, concealable, and ideal for close-quarters combat or self-defense. They require steady aim and quick reflexes.

Rifles: Rifles are versatile long-range weapons known for their accuracy and power. They are favored by marksmen, snipers, and characters who need to engage distant targets.

Shotguns: Shotguns deliver a spread of pellets, making them devastating at close range. They are often used in home defense scenarios and for hunting.

Automatic and Semi-Automatic Firearms: These firearms offer rapid-fire capabilities, making them suitable for characters facing multiple adversaries or engaging in intense gunfights.

Ideal Characters

Characters who wield modern firearms possess specific attributes and training:

Firearm Proficiency: Proficient characters are well-trained in firearm use, understanding safety, reloading, and maintenance.

Mental Toughness: They must maintain composure under pressure, as firearms can be unforgiving in high-stress situations.

Training and Experience: Characters may have military or law enforcement backgrounds or undergo specialized firearm training.

Mindset: The choice to use firearms can reflect a character's willingness to employ lethal force when necessary.

Examples in Literature

In literature, characters who wield modern firearms are often found in genres like crime fiction, espionage thrillers, and action-adventure novels:

Jesper Fahey from Leigh Bardugo's "Six of Crows" is a sharpshooter with a passion for firearms. He brings a unique blend of humor, charm, and unerring accuracy to the crew of skilled criminals known as the Dregs. Armed with his trusty revolvers, Jesper showcases not only his prowess with firearms but also his quick thinking in high-stakes situations.

Jesper's character reflects the complexities of using firearms in a gritty, high-risk world. His marksmanship skills not only contribute to the crew's endeavors but also serve as a storytelling element, illustrating the fine line between life and death in their dangerous heists.

I think he’s a great example of the type of character readers would typically associate with loud flashy firearms. 

Unconventional Weapons: Creativity and Surprise

unconventional weapons are like hidden treasures waiting to be unearthed. They offer writers a canvas upon which to paint unique and memorable characters. These characters don't just march to the beat of their own drum; they make their own drumsticks, turning the ordinary into the extraordinary.

Whips, Chains, and Musical Instruments

When you think of weapons, whips and chains might not be the first things that come to mind. Yet, in the hands of a skilled writer, they become symbols of precision, control, and the unexpected. A whip's crack can be as powerful as any gunshot, and the rattle of chains can send shivers down spines. And what about musical instruments? 

The sweet melody of a flute can lull enemies into a false sense of security before revealing its true potential as a weapon. Writers have the freedom to explore these unconventional choices, creating characters who surprise, enthrall, and captivate readers.

Creativity Knows No Bounds

Unconventional weapons are a playground for creativity. Writers can let their imaginations soar, crafting characters who wield items that defy convention. Whether it's a character fashioning a weapon from the environment or turning a seemingly mundane object into a deadly tool, the possibilities are endless. 

Want your hero to use a bouquet of roses as a weapon? Go for it. How about a character who wields a garden gnome like a hammer? Let your creativity run wild. Rachel Elizabeth Dare threw a hairbrush at a titan, Alice uses a flamingo as a croquet mallet. When it comes to unconventional weapons, you really don’t have any limits. 

I hope this blog on How to Pick The Perfect Weapon For Your Characters will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[soartfullydone]

"rebel moon is just a bunch of disjointed character intros with no substance---"

[loud fart noise in your face]

Anyway, what connects all of the characters together is Honor, a major theme of the movie. It's the reason that These People In Particular are all chosen, beyond their reputations or even their skill sets (which are still important).

What does your personal honor look like? How do you uphold it? What do you do when you lose your honor? Can you ever truly regain it once it's lost? Can you find redemption, or is revenge the closest thing you can get? Can revenge and honor ever be the same?

After her indoctrination and service in the Imperium, Kora deserts, but it's for her survival, not the recovery of her honor. That's the journey she's currently on in the defense of her new home and the people there, triggered by the conflict of choosing her personal safety or rescuing Sam from further assault. She found the line of her honor and refused to ignore it any longer.

Gunnar placed personal gain over maintaining a united front about the grain surplus. His dishonorable actions lead to Sindri getting killed and their village placed under the Imperium's thumb. Noble's culpability aside, Gunnar feels responsible for his role in all this and seeks to make amends. It's why he's the only one who jumps in to protect the child from potential collateral damage in Nemesis' fight with Harmada. He is transitioning from being a selfish character to being more selfless, defining what he wants his personal honor to be.

Speaking of Nemesis, she is the most samurai-coded character here, complete with their version of honor. Her failure at being able to protect her children drives her to defend others, and shoulder the burden of killing once a peaceful resolution cannot be reached. It's why she has an entire conversation with Harmada, to understand what drives her, to attempt to find common ground and shared empathy. It's why she fights first with naked steel, to try to convince Harmada to back off, to value her own life, and it's for the lives of others that she finally ignites her blades when she cannot. Nemesis is not an emotionless cyborg who assassinates in cold blood, but one who is deeply attuned to her pain and that of others.

Tarak is a prince, and yet we learn he's nowhere near his home or his people. Whether he's failed them or abandoned them (or feels like he has) is still a mystery, but we still know that he is an honorable man, regarding his servitude to Hickman with utter seriousness. Tarak will honor his word and any agreements once given, including a life debt, and his connection with nature both demonstrates and resonates his nobility. He even has the whole "honor them" speech to Millius, revealing that he knows the guilt of surviving when all the friends you swore to fight beside are now gone.

General Titus fought proudly for the Imperium until his honor wouldn't allow him to stomach their methods. The price for that included his men's lives, his station, and his dignity. Unable to protect any of it including his ideals, he turns to drink and hopes fighting as a gladiator to the death does the rest. And yet, he cannot bring himself to just lay down and die. He dwells on his mistakes but does not succumb to them. The kernel of honor was still within him, and it's no wonder Kora and the other idealists at her back were able to ignite it again.

Jimmy is from an order of robotic knights, who all laid down their arms in dishonor and disgrace when the Imperium's royal family was murdered. He embodies old and forgotten chivalry, and in case you missed that, they got Anthony Hopkins to voice him. These knights haven't fought back since, even when they are attacked---and yet Jimmy retaliates to protect Sam before himself, finding something honorable to fight for again.

Darrian Bloodaxe has his honor as a rebellion leader tested and rightly concludes that the revolution is meaningless if they will not come to the aid of the most defenseless among them. (But he and his men die anyway!) Indeed, that is the point. Hedging your bets and picking your battles might be the smartest option, but it's not the most noble or honorable. Honor, in case you haven't noticed, often demands a choice and a price.

And yes, even our villains share in this theme in their own twisted ways. Kai is a mirror to Gunnar, but where Gunnar is growing into being a less opportunistic person, Kai is deliberately shrouding his true intentions from the get-go. At Kai's betrayal, Kora demands after his honor, to which Kai dryly replies, "What did happen to it." It isn't a question. Kai long ago saw honor as a death sentence and chose survival over everything, and in an ironic twist, is killed once he tries to tempt Gunnar into choosing his own survival over Kora's. Like Kora before him, Gunnar finds his line that he will not cross as well as what he fights for.

Finally, there's Atticus Noble, who wields the honorable memory of the Slain King and his dishonorable death as a blunt weapon against all that isn't the Imperium, much like his cane. The one time the Imperium was gracious, and they were betrayed for it. Never again, and everyone will suffer for this humiliation until the Imperium's honor is restored---and it never will be. Because honor is not the point; conquest and control is. Revenge is the point.

Literally all of this is in the film btw. But then, I wasn't fast-forwarding or looking down at my phone the whole time or playing Paint By Numbers: Star Wars Edition. I was actually watching the goddamn movie and letting it tell me its story. And then I reflected on it afterward. Whooooaaa!

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Was Napoleon a tyrant? I don't necessarily think he was: at least, I believe he was a better alternative to the absolute monarchs he was fighting. But there are those who disagree. What are your thoughts on the subject?

This is a can of worms to be sure.

I mean....how are we defining the word tyrant? All monarchs are tyrants to someone. Monarchy, by its very nature, is tyrannical in one way, shape, or form, no matter who is at its head. Even in the more neutered forms we see now days with the British. The Queen still exerts a ridiculous amount of power, all things considered.

Napoleon was no better or worse than any other monarch in Europe at that time. Indeed, better than some, worse than others. Because you know, he was human!

-

This got VERY long. SO LONG. Choice excerpts from below the cut:

"'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it."

"(And I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system. Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door. Napoleon: Hush.)"

"Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor."

"Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight! (I'm putting my money on Napoleon.)"

--

tl;dr: a more or less benevolent emperor who had his faults and who was intimately aware, for better or worse, more than most monarchs, that the head is only tenuously attached to the body. (Skim to the bottom for my thoughts on the personal things i.e. how I interpret Napoleon's actions and brain)

But, more seriously, as with most absolute statements, I am opposed to calling him a tyrant because it is reductive and serves no purpose except to make broad sweeping political statements that I believe are far more about the person making the statement exemplifying their modern political, republican position (as in, actual republican-I-support-the-existence-of-republics not the gop) rather than expressing any sort of truth about the past. (wHaT iS tRuTh.)

For historical purposes, it can over-simplify the situation and lead to skewed interpretations of events because you're coming in with this word that has a lot of modern, 20th and 21st century baggage to it.

And, because these people are coming in with this big, bad word of tyrant as a label for Napoleon, it doesn't allow them to engage with the nuance and complexities of his reign.

Anyway.

Napoleon, as emperor, supported centralized power held in his own hands, with support from other governing bodies (senate, council of state etc.). However, Napoleon had a lot of influence in the structuring of these governing bodies and the subsequent appointments as a means to exert control over entities that would otherwise be able to act somewhat independent from him and impinge his power.

We see this consolidation of power beginning, obviously, under the consulate. 'Power was encroaching with large strides behind the words order and stability,' as Thibaudeau put it.

There was the whole theatre around the Tribunate offering to extend Napoleon's tenure as First Consul for another ten years as a means of thanks/showing gratitude for all he did for France (Fouche was like: fuck that, let's just make a statue of the guy). Napoleon played the part of Humble Servant of the Public and refused both statue and the ten year extension. (Very Julius Caesar: You all did see that on the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?)

In actuality, though, he was pissed because he wanted it extended for life.

This resulted in the Council of State deciding "independently" (i.e. Napoleon wasn't present but he sure as hell influenced that Council session) to hold a plebiscite in order to ask The People two key questions: 'Should Napoleon Bonaparte be consul for life?' and 'Should he have the right to designate his successor?'

Napoleon nixed the second question saying to Cambaceres, 'The testament of Louis XIV was not respected, so why should mine be? A dead man has nothing to say.' Which is to say, he knew people would vote for him to be Consul for life, but the prospect of him choosing a successor, a la the Roman Empire, and having that choice be without input from the people and respected upon his death? Less clear.

(And, I suspect he was concerned about seeming too eager for power/setting up a monarchical system.

Fouche: You're about as subtle as a canon going off right next door.

Napoleon: Hush.)

For the Plebiscite, there were around 3.56 million votes for Yes to the question of Napoleon as consul for life and only around 8,300 for No.

The turnout rate was 60% which is uhh...impressive! (To be fair, there was no real evidence of tampering with the vote. Unlike in subsequent Plebiscites, such as the results for Do We Make Him Emperor, which were absolutely doctored. But, considering the highest turnout ever seen in the French Revolution was around 30/35%, double that is certainly something.)

Lafayette was pissed with this. He kicked up a fuss in the Senate and wrote to Napoleon saying that his 'restorative dictatorship' had been well and fine for now but has Napoleon thought about restoring liberty? and that he was certain Napoleon, of all people, wouldn't want an 'arbitrary regime' to be installed!

Napoleon: Bold of you to assume that, Lafayette.

There were, at this time, some mumblings and grumblings about tyranny from the liberals and those still wanting to continue the experiment of the French Republic, to be sure. They increased as time went on and Napoleon's power continued to consolidate.

Theeeeeen the little bastard (affectionate) became Emperor.

Lafayette: WhAt Is tHiS??

Napoleon: Look into my face and tell me honestly that you are shocked.

--

His government, as Consul and as Emperor, was centralized and very top-down in how it operated. Little was done without Napoleon's input.

The seemingly democratic institutions that had propped him up into power were retained and Napoleon used them as a means to facilitate his rule. As noted earlier, Napoleon had a heavy hand in appointments and the processes in place to fill various offices. Nothing was really...independent of him and his influence.

Though, in terms of Image Building of Empire, Napoleon worked hard to try and maintain the façade of impartiality as emperor. That he was head of state, sure, but all state apparatuses operated independent of him.

(Why is Napoleon's hat so big? because it is full of lies supporting the imperial image making machine.)

That said, when it came to filling those offices, Napoleon focused on merit more than anything as he wanted his governing officials to be capable, hardworking and, above all else, loyal.

(A good quote from Napoleon in one of his more Eat the Rich moments of the consulate: 'One cannot treat wealth as a title of nobility. A rich man is often a layabout without merit. A rich merchant is often only so by virtue of the art of selling expensively or stealing.'

Napoleon Vs. Jeff Bezos: fight! fight! fight!

(I'm putting my money on Napoleon.) )

--

This is getting really long and I feel that I've not addressed anything in a useful manner, but am I going to stop? No.

--

Napoleon, himself, at least in 1803, did express some conflicted views about assuming an imperial title. To Roederer he said, 'So many great things have been achieved over the past three years under the title of consul. It should be kept.'

Cambaceres said to Napoleon that upon assuming an imperial title 'your position changes and places you at odds with yourself.' No longer are you merely a public servant, an upholder of the Republic's ideals. Now you are a man wearing a crown, trying to be the upholder of the Republic's ideals.

(nb: I feel that duality is something Napoleon never fully got a handle on. He would veer strongly into authoritarian monarch then have moments of Rousseau-ian Idealism.)

Napoleon was insistent that his rule be a parliamentary monarchy (keeping the governance framework implemented in the Constitution of Year VIII, if I am not mistaken. But don't quote me on that.) and that the French were not his subjects but his people.

So, the imperial government worked thus with the Legislative process divided between four bodies:

Council of State which would draw up legislative proposals,

Tribunate which could debate on legislation but not vote on it,

a legislative body which could vote on legislation but not discuss it, and

Senate which would consider whether the proposed legislation conformed to the Constitution.

The Senate and the Legislative body could, theoretically, curtail Napoleon’s freedom/power. However, considering the fact that he was involved in the appointment process of these offices, and the general rhythm of daily governance, how much power they were able to exert over him was limited.

(This is at his height! Of course, towards the end we see a shift in that. But that's largely tied up in his military defeats and the British banging the door knocker demanding to be let in. Also they brought with them some friends. You might have heard of them? Bourbons?)

The initial terms the Senate brought to Napoleon with their offer of accepting him as a hereditary monarch included, but weren't limited to:

liberty cannot be infringed

equality cannot be jeopardized

sovereignty of the people must be maintained

the laws of the nation are inviolable

all institutions were to be free from undue imperial influence (e.g. the press)

the nation should never be put into a position where it needs to behead the head of state. Again.

Napoleon was uh. Not best pleased with this and had a new version drafted up that included acknowledgement of the sovereignty of the people, but a lot of the other things (e.g. freedom of the press) were cut out.

Yet, Napoleon maintained certain parts of the French Revolution's values which were reflected more in the 1804 Code Napoleon and other legislative and legal pieces than in the initial terms of Senatorial acceptance of his imperial title.

Some of the things enshrined in the Code that were carry-over from the Revolution include, but aren't limited to, the abolition of feudalism, equality before the law, freedom of conscience (to practice their own religion), gave fixed title to those who had bought church and émigré lands during the 1790s, and the equality of taxation was maintained (tax those aristos and the church). Also, there was affirmation of the idea of careers being "open to talent" rather than an accident of birth (as touched on above).

The Freedom of Conscience clause in the Code was a further formalization of several Articles Napoleon amended onto the Concordat in 1802. The Articles guaranteed the principle of religious toleration and made the Protestant and Jewish churches similarly subject to state authority (alongside the Catholic).

These are just a brief summary of some of the more liberal/revolution-informed aspects of Napoleon's governing.

The non-liberal ones I believe we're all pretty familiar with: suppression of the free press, roll-back of rights for women (women are for babies!), reinstatement of slavery (which he later reversed circa 1810/12-ish), top-down Emperor-has-final-word approach to ruling (Napoleon was all about Authority From Above, Trust From Below) etc. etc.

At the end of this, I would say Napoleon's empire falls into that "benevolent monarch" situation. For a given value of "benevolent." As stated at the start, he was like most other monarchs in Europe at the time. Better than some, not as great about certain things as others.

--

Really, it all ties back to Order and Stability.

Napoleon's assent, and his approach to strong, centralized ruling, was a result of uncertainty and constant government change over ten years of revolution alongside the growing belief, by 1803, that a republic like the Romans or Greeks was not going to happen any time soon. Not without constant warfare and the forever looming threat of a Bourbon restoration.

In addition, Napoleon was doing imperial drag. (If that makes sense.) He was dialing the notch of Emperor up to 11 - being the most emperor of all emperors. So, state control was absolute because he couldn't show any signs of weakness - either in his own body, his familial body, or the body of state. The court protocols were intense and over-the-top at times because he had to prove he was not just a second son of a parvenu lawyer from the sticks. No! he was worthy of this pomp. He was worthy of imperial majesty. He was worthy of the crown and scepter.

Napoleon was not raised to be anything other than a military officer and a middle-class head of a family (would have been a MASTER at doing Sunday Dad Puttering About the House). When he dawned the mantel of power, particularly that of empire, he had to make it up as he went along. For such a self-conscious and proud man, this was difficult. He never wanted to misstep and be embarrassed - on a personal level, political or military.

At the same time, he was reared on Rousseau and Revolution so still had those values and ideals imbedded in him, and those fears and memories. Napoleon knew as well as any Frenchman that a monarch's head is easily removable should it become necessary. Therefore, he sometimes ran roughshod over the liberty to ensure security. For better or worse, that was the choice he made.

--

Napoleon was a flawed leader with a complex approach to governing that was focused on a centralization of power within him while, at the same time, trying to be the Successor of the Revolution, the Roman Republic and the Roman Empire. Layers! Like an onion.

His approach as emperor really was within the realm of normal-for-the-times when compared to most other monarchs on the European stage in 1800. He also granted liberties to his people that were unheard of in other countries.

I feel like all my Napoleonic ramblings end with the same message: Dude was nuanced. Dude was complex. Dude did good things and bad things. Dude helped people and hurt people. Dude contained multitudes. Because he was simply human, at the end of the day.

--

ANNNNNNND we are done.

Gods bless all y'all who made it this far.

Have my favourite picture of Napoleon at Tuileries as a prize.

hmm that beautiful heavy, handed symbolism.

[zykamiliah]

After reading this post (until the end) I think I can finally map out Lancelot's change of perspective and priorities in regards to his motivations and, well, his entire worldview.

1x05 "Lancelot":

Here it's established that Lancelot wants to be a knight, he wants to impress Arthur. But he also wants to live up to the standards he has set up for himself, like doing great deeds that showcase his nobility and knightly potential. He is mostly, trying to live up to an ideal: a knight devoted to his lord, upholding a strict code, defending the weak and protecting Arthur. During this period he prioritizes his own dream, his own selfish desires. He puts distance between Gwen and him by treating her like a lady, kissing his hand. All very romantic from certain point of view, but that's why he does it. If he treated her like an equal, he would have to consider her own wishes, which he doesn't.  He leaves Camelot after realizing that MERLIN was the one who actually defeated the griffin. He can't take the glory because it wasn't his great deed and he can't remain in Camelot after that. Arthur wanted him to stay, but he refused. He's still too wrapped around his idealistic, self-centered goals. He decides he will come back when he proves himself.

But he doesn't.

2x04 "Lancelot and Guinevere":

This is the episode where Lancelot hits rock bottom. He's way out of the path he envisioned for himself. The absolute opposite of his shining dreams of knighthood. Then Gwen appears and gives him a reason to fight, a quest. I'm not saying he didn't care about her, because he did, but here he's still Don Quixote fighting for his Dulcinea; she becomes the embodiment of everything that's good, and so gives him something to defend and follow religiously.

But then he backtracks completely when the possibility of Arthur being interested in Gwen comes into the picture. He still wants to be the kind of knight that puts his lord above everything else. And so he leaves.

A reminder that, tragically, funnily enough, this is all happening inside his head. He's still up in the coulds, chasing the dream. But at least he parted ways with Hengist and his kind and is now trying to find his way again.

From 2x04 to S3 finale, the time we don't see him:

In light of this infamous deleted scene, I would like to offer a theory: something definitely changed between the last time we saw him in season 2 and when he's back in the s3 finale.

I'm going to take a risk here and say that he was waiting. For something, for someone. Maybe Arthur would try to find him, maybe a great opportunity would present itself.

Approximately two years and a half pass and there is nothing. Not a call from Camelot, not great deed to commend himself.

What does happen is that Lancelot is, I presume, finally waking up to reality, to the real things that are happening around himself.  He has to live day after day mundanely, he has to survive. I guess there was a brief period of calm in which he worked as a sword for hire or something like that. Then we get the whole thing with Cenred, the raiders attacking villages of innocent people, something that hits very close to his own past childhood experiences.

Oh, and Merlin presumably contacts him from time to time.

I want to talk about something that I don't see it commented anywhere but that's something that bothered me in 2x04 and is that Lancelot didn't really... put much thought on his relationship with Merlin. It's not that he dismisses him, because Merlin's still his friend from Camelot, they had a great rapport when they first met, and he's keeping Merlin's secret loyally, but that's it. Compare that to Arthur, the Lord he wants to serve, and Gwen, the Lady he wants to protect; the two of them were the means and (the goal?) to his reaching his grestest ambition. Merlin doesn't represent any of his ideals, he's just his friend, mildly extraordinary because of his magic, but a commoner like him.

And yet, Merlin is the most real thing he has.

3x13 "The Coming of Arthur" + Not Arthur Deleted Scene:

"It wasn't Arthur who sent for me." Wait what? This is simply NOT the same man we encountered in s2. He's grown up. He's not chasing ideals anymore. He came back because a friend in need, the one who remembers him after all this time.

What makes it even more great is that he comes with Percival!! He's not thinking about his personal, singular glory anymore, he's made friends with someone from the "real" world, with real problems, someone so down to earth like Percival.

He says to Merlin, "You're the one Arthur should knight." (I wrote about this moment here) He doesn't care about the knighthood as much as he did three and half years ago. He's humbler, and he doesn't care that Merlin and him don't get the glory for stopping the immortal army.

The moment he renounces his unrealistic expectations and ideals is the moment he start to live them: he accompanies Merlin as his knight, he does a great deed, he helps save the world. Most importantly, he treats Merlin as his equal, and I think this is crucial. He becomes a better version of himself.

4x01-02 "The Darkest Hour":

Then in s4, he looks relatively content with his life; he's comfortable, shows that he has a bit of sassy bone in his body; he probably regrets not taking his chance with Gwen all those years ago, but again, it was years ago. He may feel something, but I'm going with the assumption that he's mostly over it. It still saddens him because he likely has to see Gwen every day, but he's not dying because he can't be with her.

Apart from being humbler, he's also inspired by Merlin and constantly questioning himself. He still wants to do better, even more in such circunstances, but that's not such a distant goal anymore, because he has already the best man by his side.

(Yes, it is Merlin I'm talking about, obviously.)

There is also, I think, a shift during/at the end of The Darkest Hour, and it's that Merlin becomes someone he wants to protect and give his life for. So not only is Merlin his equal, his (best) friend, and the man whose bravery and noble behavior he wants to emulate; Merlin also becomes that which Lancelot, as knight, must protect at all cost. (hisidulcinea)

In conclusion: Lancelot undergoes character development since his first appearance in s1: he stops wanting to become a knight for the glory and trying to fit people (cough Gwen cough) into his knighthood fantasy. He is forced to face reality and his own shortcomings, and becomes a better version of himself thanks to that, but also a great deal of it is thanks to Merlin, who is, no doubt, the most positive influence he has had in all his life.

[gear-project]

Is Nagoriyuki still considered a 'samurai' or is he a 'ronin' since he has no feudal lord or master to serve? A friend and me debated this, I still consider him a samurai due to him still trying to uphold the Bushido Code.

The literal definition of Rōnin is 浪人 "Drifter" "Wave man". In modern times this refers to a salaryman who is Unemployed, or a Secondary School Graduate who hasn't yet been admitted to University. (Highschool Student not yet entering College.)

In the old era leading up to the Sengoku Period, it was expected based on the Code of Bushido (Warrior's Code) that a Samurai was supposed to commit Seppuku/Hara-kiri (ritual suicide) upon the loss of his Master.

It was considered a great "shame" upon the warrior if they did not honor that code, and so the status of being Rōnin was undesirable.

In contrast to the Edo Period (1600s) there were many who were dissatisfied with their Masters and Leaders.

Nagoriyuki (Yasuke) fits just before the Edo Period around the year 1582.

Since Nagoriyuki is a Vampire, and cannot die easily, he was forced to live on regardless of the fate of his master... however, that fate is uncertain.

Nagoriyuki did voice his own personal regret (of not being able to protect his Master) towards Sol Badguy near the end of the White House Terrorist incident, so while he isn't currently involved with his master Kazusanosuke, he still speaks of him in respectful tones, so he is still very loyal.

Sol made mention of his knowledge of the Nightless, which did prompt Nagoriyuki to ask him if Sol actually "knew" his Master.

This suggests that Kazusanosuke is in fact ALSO a Vampire, much the same as Nagoriyuki... so it could very well be that he is still alive... though his whereabouts are unknown at this time.

While it appears that Nagoriyuki was unable to protect his Master due to ensuing circumstances, he still deeply bears loyalty and respect for the man.

In old times, some warriors did get separated from their masters during war-time, but it did not change their actual status until the status and safety of their Lord could be confirmed.

So until we know what exactly happened to Nagoriyuki's master, he is still considered a "retainer" (despite what happened).

The actual TERM "Samurai" has more to do with Military service and Nobility status, whether you had a Master or not.

While it's not confirmed if Yasuke had any connection to Nobility other than his master... he still shared that "status" in the past as a loyal retainer, so for now, the title still stands.

In Modern definitions though, Nagoriyuki is currently homeless and unemployed (something Giovanna is trying to fix).

[georgianadarcy4life]

This week’s meme is a Dungeons & Dragons-style alignment chart with characters from Pride and Prejudice. To me, this meme format and its content are completely incongruous-which is part of its appeal. 

Pride and Prejudice is a comedy of manners and a romance novel set in Regency-era England. It's realistic fiction-while the characters and content are fictional, the setting is realistic, and the plot is rooted in real social issues and plausible conflicts. It comments on marriage as an institution, the importance of love and compatibility in relationships, and social expectations of women in the early 19th century. 

Dungeons & Dragons is very, very fictional. It’s rooted in the fantasy genre, and the source material incorporates magic, monster-slaying, and epic quests. It’s also a roleplaying game, and lets its players choose the type of story they are in and the characters they play.  One aspect of character creation in Dungeons & Dragons is alignment, which evaluates a given character’s morals and ethics.

Character alignment is a hotly debated topic in Dungeons & Dragons, and it becomes even more contentious when the alignment chart is applied to other works. Essentially, characters are assessed on two axes: good vs. evil and lawful vs. chaotic. The first looks at a character’s moral character (ha) while the second examines their attitude toward laws and moral codes. This inclusion of personal moral codes as an indicator of a lawful alignment can complicate categorization. A character can break the laws of their society at every turn and still be “lawful” if they obey a clearly defined and consistently applied personal code. This is key-many Lawful Evil villains behave totally at odds with the law, but are still “lawful” because of their strict adherence to personal codes.

Alignment is also supposed to function as a bell curve, with neutrality at the top of the curve. This is a practical way to view alignment. This model mimics the morality of a given population-more people are neutral in respect to morality, and many don’t hold strong opinions on laws and rules. It’s also worth noting that it’s easier to argue for neutrality than to prove extremes-law vs. chaos and good vs. evil-in character categorization. This often leads to disagreement over character alignment-it’s simply easier to argue for nuance and neutrality in a character than the strict or absent adherence to law, chaos, good, or evil.

This meme is open to a lot of interpretation, so I’ll look at two character alignments I agree with and one alignment that I disagree with. I agree with the placements of Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Lydia Bennet, and I disagree with Mr. Darcy’s placement.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a thoroughly Lawful Evil character, and perhaps the only one in the novel. Her behavior is solely self-serving, promoting her and her family at the expense of others. Lady Catherine protects institutions that preserve her political and economic power, such as the patronage system and the British Peerage. The Peerage concentrates the nation’s wealth and political power among hereditary nobility, and disadvantages the voice of the common people in government and policy-making. Lady Catherine believes that aristocracy literally is the rule of the best, and looks down on everyone that is not part of the Peerage. She actively tries to hinder the protagonist, and tries to leverage her social power to end Lizzy’s engagement to Darcy because it prevents her daughter’s advancement in society. Essentially, her “evilness” comes from her willingness to exercise her political and economic power to the detriment of others solely to maintain her family’s position. Her lawful alignment comes from her unwavering support of law, tradition, and social structures.

Lydia Bennet is a Chaotic Neutral character. Her moral character is neither unusually good nor exceptionally terrible. Her decisions are childish, and actively damage her family’s well being. Her elopement with Wickham ruins her family’s reputation and jeopardizes her sisters’ marital prospects (and therefore their future financial situations). This decision is emblematic of Lydia's moral character-thoughtless and self-centered, but not intentionally malicious. Lydia also flouts social conventions throughout the whole of the novel. She behaves improperly at public functions, ignores authority figures, and seems to enjoy shocking polite society purely for her own amusement. Honestly, I’d say that she's the most chaotic character in the entire book.

I disagree with Mr. Darcy’s placement on this chart. In my opinion, he is a Lawful Good character. He is not “neutral”. His actions (while occasionally impolite or harsh) come from a place of good intent and concern for proper behavior. He preserves the reputation of the bennet family by forcing Wickham to marry Lydia, and does so at a not-insignificant financial cost to himself. He treats the servants of Pemberley and the people in the surrounding area with kindness even though it would be socially acceptable (and even normal) to look down on or dismiss them. He actively upholds proper social conventions and arguably ostracizes those that don’t. His poor opinion of the Bennet family stems from the way they (namely Mrs. Bennet and Lydia) behave. He encouraged Mr. Bingley to stop seeing Jane because he thought that her family’s reputation was (within the attitudes of the society at the time) wrong, and that it could damage his friend’s reputation. Mr Darcy is concerned with propriety throughout the novel, which suggests both a lawful attitude and, unfortunately, a tendency toward snobbiness.

Source

[duxhess-kryzewan]

since Mandalorians seem to be very passionate people maybe something with dance lesson, like a tango? it may be very innocent, even awkward or just the total opposite

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Obi-Wan."

He crosses his arms in frustration, a rather unbecoming look for an up and coming Jedi he realizes, but he can't bring himself to care. He was not doing it.

"It's custom in Mandalorian nobility," Qui-Gon says, "And it would be rude not to neglect the Duchess when she has only just returned to her home."

Obi-Wan sighs, "Then why don't you do it?"

Qui-Gon laughs, "Because I'm much to old to be escorting such a young lady, and I think she'll be more comfortable with someone her age. Besides, you two have developed a friendship over the last year, I think she would be better suited with you on her arm."

There's something to his tone when the word 'friendship' that makes him uncomfortable. He didn't know if he would consider their connection a friendship, per say. More of a complicated series of arguments peppered with moments of intimate connections. He cared her - deeply, he would add - but he never was quite sure what they were. There was a code he vowed to uphold, after all, and there was a planet she was destined to take control of.

"I don't know if friendship is what you would classify it as," he says, "We quarrel an awful lot."

His master smiles knowingly at him, "As friends often do. Now off you go, you don't want to keep the Duchess waiting."

With a sigh, he finally concedes to his masters orders, "Fine."

He swears Qui-Gon winks at him when he leaves. _____

They had spent so much time on the run and away from her  palace that he had almost forgotten how she looked when in her noble attire. Gowns were not very practical when running from gangs of bounty hunters.

"Obi-Wan." She greets with a polite smile.

"Your grace." He bows slightly, more out of formality than anything. She was, after all, now truly in charge.

"I appreciate you doing this for me," she says, "I understand this is rather out of your element, but with the celebrations here in light of our new era of peace I only found it fitting that you and Qui-Gon be in attendance. You are after all the only reason I lived."

"Of course, we are more than happy to help in your quest for peace on Mandalore; it's my greatest hope that your peaceful ways will help Mandalore prosper."

Something in her eyes soften, "It means the world to me, Obi-Wan. I owe much to you and Master Qui-Gon. It was his idea after all. For you to escort me, I mean."

He freezes. Qui-Gon had set all this up? Was he trying to get him expelled from the order? His master certainly had little to no regard for the rules, but this was extreme even for him.

Instead of dwelling on it, he switches the topic, "I regret to inform you that dancing is not a skill they teach at the temple. You may want to reconsider your decision."

Satine chuckles, "Nonsense, I'm sure you'll be fine, and there's certainly no other person I would rather have at my side to get me through such an event. I presume your lack of dancing abilities is why Qui-Gon suggested you practice with me."

Oh yes, he and his Master were most definitely going to have words.

"I'll follow your lead, then."

Her smile is warm and inviting and it spreads a sensation through him that he still couldn't figure out despite being around her for a better part of a year.

She takes his hand in her own (bless her for leading, because he certainly wasn't going to make the first move) and tugs him to the center of the empty room.

"Ballroom dancing is passionate, but not as complicated as one might think." She explains, "Just follow my lead."

When she tugs at his free hand and places it on her hip he's certain he had begun blushing profusely, though she (thank force) hadn't mentioned it.

A hand drapes on his shoulder and she steps closer to him, the space between them dwindling to barely nothing and he's certain that she can feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"Just follow my lead," she instructs with a smile, as if he was going to do anything but.

She steps backwards, prompting him to move forward with her and within seconds his feet bump hers and he fumbles some.

"I'm rather horrid at this." He notes, hoping the joking nature of his comment will mask his embarrassment.

"Just relax," She says with a laugh, "You had told me about the various fighting styles within the Jedi, right? Think of it as if you're learning a new form."

He snorts, "I won't be fighting anyone with a tango anytime soon, Satine."

She lets out another laugh, "You never know, Obi-Wan, perhaps one day this will save your life."

He can't but laugh too.

"Again?" She asks.

He nods, and once again she begins to move backwards, each step she takes precise and measured and he begins to think of every form he's learned since he was a youngling. Perhaps she brought up a good point; movement in all forms required patience and precision.

"See," she says, "You're getting the hang of it."

Plus, having control of his breathing was certainly helping him mask just how nervous he was holding her that close. No longer were they hidden away deep in the forests or shrouded in the cover of darkness. Now they were in the middle of Mandalores palace surrounded by her subjects. The time have together was quickly draining away.

She leans in, close enough to whisper in his ear, "You know there's no one around right now, you can actually hold me if you wish."

He about passes out then and there; rarely is she so brash about their relationship. More so than him, of course, but even her comments are made with some restraint.

But he does as she instructs and slides his hand from her hip bone to wrap completely around her waist, tugging her just a bit closer than she already was.

"Dip me." She instructs.

He blinks, "I beg your pardon."

She laughs, "Dip me, it's part of the dance. Honestly, Obi-Wan, have you never seen anyone dance before?"

Truthfully he hadn't really. Dancing was never something people did at the temple, and he can't recall a time on his various journeys to other planets that he'd seen anyone do so either.

But he does what she asks despite his trepidation, gently tipping her backwards. Not too far, because the underlying fear that he'd drop her was nagging at the back of his head, but just enough that she would be satisfied.

"See? Nothing to fear. You're going to have to twirl me too, just so you know."

Twirl. Right. That was something he could do; much less of a chance of dropping her.

Her gown flares out when he spins her. It's slow, nothing extravagant but just enough to truly accentuate the craftmanship her personal tailors put into her dress.

He catches her before she can make a final full turn and pulls her towards him, her back pressing against his chest and both his arms coming to loop around her waist.

She laughs, "Feeling bold, are we?"

The sound of her laughter sends another shockwave of adoration through him and - since he was feeling a bit bold, as she put it - he presses a chaste kiss to the exposed skin of her neck.

"What can I say? You bring out the worst in me." He teases, nipping his teeth against the same spot on her neck.

She sighs contentedly and drops her head backwards against his shoulder, "You leave in two days time, don't you?"

In an instant he feels the warmth from her touch rush out of him. Instead, a chill replaces it. He was leaving soon, and it hadn't quite dawned on him yet that this truly might be one of the last times they're alone. Soon they would be forced to go back to their separate lives. That is, unless she asked him to stay.

And he would. If that's what she had wanted from him, he would stay with her.

"I do."

"Hmm," she hums,  "Then I suppose we should make this count."

She pulls from his grasp only to turn herself around and take his hand once more. If it were anyone else, he would have objected to dancing for even longer. But Satine wasn't just anyone.

"As you wish, dear."

So he humors her, twirling her around as many times as she wished (and only managing to stumble twice) for as long as she wanted. It wasn't much, but it was all that he could give her.

Unbeknownst to him, Qui-Gon had watched through the cracked doorway, smiling at them.

[fleshpurifies]

THE BIG BLEACH HC MEME centering around politics, repost & fill out! For anyone who wanted to explore those aspects more, considering it played a big role in the story. Some things may be unknown to your Muse, just think in WHAT IF then & well, have fun and take your time!

BASICS

Name:   Unohana   / / /    Age:  3000+   / / /      Gender:   nonbinary woman Race:   Shinigami / Quincy / Hollow / Fullbringer / Visored / Human / Other Currently lives:   Soul Society / Hueco Mundo / Silbern / Living World / Hell Exact Location:  Seireitei Group(s):  Gotei 13, Squad 4, Squad 11 (formerly)

QUESTIONS

- Would your muse consider themselves more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - Would your muse consider their group more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see them: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their race: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their group: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ?

- Is your muse considered a threat: YES / NO ?   By whom?:  Central 46 , to the Soul Society governed by laws and ideals of justice , to any living creature in any and all realms on an instinctual level - Is your muse powerful: YES / NO ?  Could they be considered OP:  YES / NO ? (probably... but i love op women so keep them coming) - Did your muse commit any crimes: YES / NO ? (sweaty emoji) - Does your muse think they are doing mostly the right thing: YES / NO ? - Would society think the same: YES / NO / MIXED OPINIONS ? Does your muse think they are treated unfairly: YES / NO ? - Does your muse feel understood from others: YES / NO ? - Is it important for them what others think of them as a person: YES / NO ? - Would they welcome death:  YES / NO ? - Will they ever find peace:  YES / NO ? 

01.0.  Do they fully stand behind the group they are part of? YES / NO. Why is that? Explain: As one of the founding members of the Gotei Thirteen, Unohana’s loyalty to Yamamoto and resolve to uphold the governing laws have never once wavered.

02.0.  Do they like as things are in Soul Society? YES / NO. 02.1.  Is there anything they would change? Explain here: It’s not until she becomes ‘Retsu’ Unohana, that she truly begins to understand feelings like empathy and compassion, even if feigned at first to fulfill the role she’s taken. While she feels sympathy for those souls subjected to living in Rukongai in poverty, and genuinely wants the legislature of Central 46 to improve the quality of life for the poor outside of Seireitei’s walls, her sense of duty to the Yamamoto and the Gotei, as well as her own responsibility in regards to her personal ‘sin’ outweighs much else. She is capable of recognizing the nuance of morality to some extent, especially as Retsu, she firmly distinguishes right from wrong (her compliance with Rukia’s execution for example, despite recognising it was objectively too severe a punishment), but this code will in most cases come second to upholding Soul Society’s ideals.

- (this next area is tricky because I stand by the fact that there is a LOT of conflict with the image of ‘The Self’ that exists within Unohana, and as such, she falls into the category of both traits in a lot of these- bold is the more dominant of the two, italicized is secondary)

03.0. Would they ever actively try to bring change (in general)? YES / NO. 03.1. Is your muse more: passive / active ?  Introverted / Extroverted ? 03.2. Does your muse care more about: others / themselves ? 03.3. Do they trouble their mind over a lot of problems, others? YES / NO. 03.4. Do they mostly involve: the world / everyone / themselves / comrades / friends / family / elderly / kids / teenagers / home / workplace / strangers / souls / humans / quincy / shinigami / nobles / fullbringer / visored / hollows / espada / arrancar / former bosses / pets / animals / zanpakuto spirit / enemies / partner / lovers / soul king / god / other…(add more) 03.5. Name (up to) three which are the most on their mind (optional, adding names): - Kenpachi Zaraki. The burden of guilt weighing heavy on her shoulders, the promise of the heights he could rise to, should she raise him properly. - Isane Kotetsu. Her tender-hearted, earnest ally in everything; who she trusts to keep her greatest secrets (her greatest shame), the person with whom she entrusts her zanpakuto, who runs to her side when the nightmares are too vivid, who will proudly stand alongside her, and honor her legacy as Retsu. - Genryuusai Shigekuni Yamamoto. When monsters still roamed the realms and the balance of souls was in chaos, her strength was once sought out by one such demon in exchange for endless enemies to fight and cut down for him. She has never looked back. - Shutara Senjumaru. They once knew each other when they were nothing more than The Kenpachi and a noblewoman. Feelings, relationships, names, social standing, roles, identity— if everything about a person is subject to change, what is left remaining? Still, the threads connect; pulling, stretching, but never breaking.

04.0. Do they think frequently about politics? YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Why is that? Explain: Her position as a long-standing Captain and founding member of the Gotei Thirteen itself is highly politicized. As stated above, Unohana has a strong sense of objective “right and wrong”, but this always comes second to her duty to Soul Society. Specifically following Aizen’s betrayal given her direct role in partial discovery of his scheme, she gives deeper thinking to the flaws within the Central 46 governing system.

05.0. How do they feel in their current location, more: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 05.1. Why is that?: Positive is in response to her death, and Kenpachi absolving her of her sins and guilt over being unable to bestow him her title years earlier. Neutral & Positive also both correlate to her standing and service as the 4th Division Captain, as well as the post-canon AU I’ve given her.

06.0. Does your muse have any goal: YES / NO ?  BIG / SMALL ? 06.1. Does it involve anything world-changing: YES / NO ? (technically ig??) 06.2. If goal or not, any future plans? Share here:  To raise the next Kenpachi and correct her mistake. Though perhaps in itself a small goal, the ramifications on the world are large, and it is a largely character-defining goal for her.

07.0. Does your muse know about the original sin of soul society*: YES / NO / MAYBE ? * curious? Read about it here. 07.1. If they knew, would it change their views on Soul Society: YES / NO ? 07.2. More: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ?

08.0. Who is the worst person in their eyes?: Yhwach , Aizen 08.1. What should happen to them? Execution (quick / slow death) / Imprisonment / Stripped of their powers / Torture / Repay for their sins / Pay a Fine / Social Work / lose their loved ones / Exile / other… (add more). 08.2. Explanation:  I feel like they’re both fairly self explanatory, though extra points to Yhwach for killing Yamamoto because she is Not A Fan

09.0. Thoughts on the Quincy Massacre if they knew: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 09.1. Would they be alright with such thing happening again: YES / NO / INDIFFERENT ? 09.2. Would they try to prevent it: YES / NO / DEPENDS ? 09.3. Explanation:  They were a threat to Soul Society and the balance of souls between the realms, one that was eliminated in response to a rebellion they themselves started. Perhaps if circumstances were different (such as, the Mod Soul dump/genocide, where they were innocent), there wouldn’t have been a need for such bloodshed. But as always, everything is done in the name of preserving the balance of souls, regardless of the cost.

10.0. Would they ever switch sides: YES / NO ? 10.1. If yes, What could bring them to do so?:  N/A 10.2. Would they create a new one: YES / NO ?  or join a current one? If so, which:  In my post-canon AU, she “retires” to Rukongai and lives as an herbalist before being recruited by Yoruichi Shihoin to teach at the Shin’o Academy. So in that sense, she joins a current subset of the Soul Society faction with which she was aligned.

11.0. Does your muse follow a certain moral code*?:  YES / NO / GRAY AREA ? (UH... LOL) * (ethics) A written, formal, and consistent set of rules prescribing righteous behavior, accepted by a person or by a group of people. 11.1. What does it involve?: The laws and governing laid out by Central 46, though this is secondary to Yamamoto’s commands. The latter is especially important, given that Yamamoto’s own laws changed drastically over time. 11.2. What does it NOT involve?: This one is subject to the changes laid out above; torture, murder, violence, whatever earns you the title of The Most Bloodthirsty and Violent Criminal In Soul Society’s History.

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE GROUPS ?

Central 46:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: they govern the Soul Society, but she follows primarily Yamamoto’s command.

Four Great Noble Clans:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: She herself has no divisive opinion on the Nobility beyond her disapproval that certain members can buy their way into a high rank within the Gotei. Those positions ought to be earned by strength and skill, not monetary means. That said, due to the Nobility having extensive influence within Soul Society, Unohana has personally served as the attending physician to such distinguished houses, most notably the Kuchiki Household (with regards to Ginrei, Sojun, and Hisana).

Royal Guards / Gotei 13:   positive / negative / neutral .   ━   because: She literally helped to create the Gotei 13, so there is a certain amount of pride in that fact.

Fullbringer:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Other than the actions and fate of one Ginjou Kuugo, she has no true opinion on Fullbringers existing as their own “spiritual race”. 

Visored:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Not positive in the sense that she is perfectly fine with their circumstances, however she explicitly refers to them as her “comrades”, which is an especially interesting note given how other Gotei officers and Captains reacted with suspicion or out right disgust. Unohana has been known to heal enemy and ally alike, however, and likely viewed them as such given their shared history as Gotei officers, as well as already having proven themselves to align their interest with those of Soul Society.

Espada:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  As far as fighting beneath Aizen’s command, she disapproves. However, given the post-HM attempt at establishing relations between Hueco Mundo’s de facto ruler and Soul Society, there is a begrudging neutrality between their worlds for the time being. That said, Unohana was not opposed to healing Gantenbainne Mosqueda after arriving in Hueco Mundo, suggesting that she views Arrancar in general with as much autonomy as Humans and Shinigami.

Quincy:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Her prejudice against Quincies comes chiefly from their practice of eliminating souls vs cleansing them, creating an imbalance between the worlds, as well as Yhwach during the original Blood War. Prior to the TYBW, she was fairly neutral, if not perhaps somewhat pitying over their race for having stood and fallen against Soul Society. But she’s a firm believer that the Quincy genocide was a result of their own hubris; angels with wings of wax, etc etc. That said, she gets absolutely zero direct interaction with any Quincies during the TYBW, and I personally think that despite her stronger opinions, she’d be inclined to heal the likes of Bazz-B, Giselle, and Liltotto because they defected from the Wandenreich. It’s a whole nuanced thing.

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE (IMPORTANT) PEOPLE ?

Aizen:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Treacherous reprobate, etc etc. All the obvious reasons. I don’t think she’d disapprove of Shunsui’s decision to free him though, only because drastic times call for drastic measures. If that weren’t the case, surely she wouldn’t have been pushed to finally teach Kenpachi Zaraki the Art of Killing.

Yhwach:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  Other than the obvious stuff, him cutting down Yamamoto was something she reacted to negatively and viscerally so.

Mayuri:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  His personality is infuriating, but she does find it hilarious to push his buttons and prod at his ego. She doesn’t agree with some of his crueler methods, but she really doesn’t have room to talk and in the end, it’s for the sake of the Soul Society.

Kurosaki:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  INCREDIBLE, INSPIRING, SHOW-STOPPING, BRILLIANT. Really fond of the kid, really worried for the kid. She kind of wants to fight him.

Soul King:   positive / negative / neutral. ━   because:  While his origins are dubious and objectively horrific,  his presence is necessary for the sake of the greater world.

CONGRATS, you managed till to the end, now tag your fellow bleach partners!

TAGGED BY: genuinely cant remember. it was prob either tom or hela TAGGING: anyone who hasn’t done this yet, feel free 2 steal!

[diepower]

THE BIG BLEACH HC MEME centering around politics, repost & fill out! For anyone who wanted to explore those aspects more, considering it played a big role in the story. Some things may be unknown to your Muse, just think in WHAT IF then & well, have fun and take your time!

BASICS

Name:   Meninas McAllon    / / /    Age:   1000+ years    / / /    Gender:   nonbinary woman Race:   Shinigami / Quincy / Hollow / Fullbringer / Visored / Human / Other Currently lives: (verse dependent) Soul Society / Hueco Mundo / Silbern / Living World / Hell Exact Location: again, verse dependent, but Silbern in general and then Squad 12th’s basement in her CFYOW verse... haven’t quite ironed out all the details of her post-canon AU beyond that it’s set in the Living World, though Group(s): Wandenreich, Shinigami (specifically Squad 12 and not by choice)

QUESTIONS

- Would your muse consider themselves more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - Would your muse consider their group more: GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see them: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their race: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ? - How does your muse think others see their group: GOOD / EVIL / NEUTRAL ?

- Is your muse considered a threat: YES / NO ?   By whom?:  Soul Society - Is your muse powerful: YES / NO ?  Could they be considered OP:  YES / NO ? - Did your muse any crimes: YES / NO ? - Does your muse think they are doing mostly the right thing: YES / NO ? - Would society think the same: YES / NO / MIXED OPINIONS ?

- Does your muse think they are treated unfairly: YES / NO ? - Does your muse feel understood from others: YES / NO ? - Is it important for them what others think of them as a person: YES / NO ? - Would they welcome death:  YES / NO ? - Will they ever find peace:  YES / NO ?

01.0.  Do they fully stand behind the group they are part of? YES / NO. Why is that? Explain: To Meninas, the Wandenreich are a means to an end; a way for her to be placed in a position where she might exact her revenge on Soul Society for the deaths of her parents during the original Quincy genocide 1000 years prior. In addition, being recruited into the Wandenreich also puts her in a closer position to Yhwach himself, whom she firmly believes is equally responsible for the deaths of her parents due to his ineptitude as a leader and “god”. She has no loyalty to Quincy as a race, and only greater purpose is to become the Strongest of all Quincy (not even particularly the “Strongest Quincy”, as she prefers her fists over traditional Quincy techniques). She is exclusively motivated by her own personal sense of justice, and will do whatever she must to attain it.

02.0.  Do they like as things are in Soul Society? YES / NO. 02.1.  Is there anything they would change? Explain here: Soul Society is a corrupt government body that uses methods of fear, torture, and suppression to uphold their very self-serving ideals of justice. Already armed with this perception, Meninas also sees this firsthand while captive to Mayuri Kurotsuchi and must personally carry out such tactics firsthand. While she doesn’t in the fullest capacity know how to change Soul Society because the root of evil is much deeper than anyone would think, she believes that a number of practices and traditions and captains ought to be destroyed; torn out, root and stem. She also hates the nobility that control many of the policies and buy their way into the Gotei ranks. Those who fight and do the work have earned their place at the top, those who do nothing and hoard their wealth while watching those at the bottom suffer have no place in policy making, regulation, or enforcement.

03.0. Would they ever actively try to bring change (in general)? YES / NO. 03.1. Is your muse more: passive / active ?  Introverted / Extroverted ? 03.2. Does your muse care more about: others / themselves ? 03.3. Do they trouble their mind over a lot of problems, others? YES / NO. 03.4. Do they mostly involve: the world / everyone / themselves / comrades / friends / family / elderly / kids / teenagers / home / workplace / strangers / souls / humans / quincy / shinigami / nobles / fullbringer / visored / hollows / espada / arrancar / (former) boss(es) / pets / animals / zanpakuto spirit / enemies / partner / lover(s) / soul king / god / other…(add more) 03.5. Name (up to) three which are the most on their mind (optional, adding names): - her parents in that her original goal was to get revenge against yhwach and soul society for their roles in the Quincy genocide; she cannot remember their faces anymore, but its her memory that they existed at all that drives her actions - bazz-b in that she and him have an established partnership and plot to commit deicide together, and have been keeping this partnership going for the better part of the last 1000 years under the guise that they’re a very messy and very stupid pair of lovers with a loud and destructive relationship. a long time ago, she swore to help bring about the future of the world he envisioned, and her loyalty has not shaken. - the other femritters- giselle in particular being as young as she is, and meninas harbors a strong guilt for recruiting her into the wandenreich (despite being under orders from yhwach). though on the surface their relationship is rife with bickering and light-hearted contempt, she specifically tries to watch out for giselle. - the nobility (not for any particular race, just in general) as she despises those who claim dominion over the others due to circumstances of wealth or fortunate circumstance without actually doing anything to aid the suffering of those below

04.0. Do they think frequently about politics? YES / NO / SOMETIMES. Why is that? Explain: Most of Meninas’ thoughts are politic-focused, although this perhaps isn’t something she herself is aware of, if that makes sense. Most of her thoughts are “it seems to me that this is the way the world is, where it ought to be this other way and I will help to shape it in that image with my own two hands”. 

05.0. How do they feel in their current location, more: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 05.1. Why is that?:  This goes for pretty much all locations/bases in her life after leaving her childhood home at the age of 12- she doesn’t regard anywhere as home as much as shelter. She doesn’t like Silbern, but grows used to it over time (hence the neutrality), but is miserable while trapped in Soul Society.

06.0. Does your muse have any goal: YES / NO ?  BIG / SMALL ? 06.1. Does it involve anything world-changing: YES / NO ? 06.2. If goal or not, any future plans? Share here:  She despises the class differences between the weird racist blood purity and nobility schemes of the Quincy to Nobility in any of its forms and greatly begrudges those of high noble status. While she does a good job at hiding this disdain while residing in Silbern and around large numbers of Quincy elite (in wealth and breeding), she resents most of them for what they are. Her young life was shaped by the perception of a person’s worth in the world ruled by pedigree and wealth, and she as a result that a person’s worth is dependent on how useful they are as a tool or object to others. She wants to live in a world where those currently at the bottom stand at the top, and those in power are beneath their feet. As far as plans, she’s spent her entire life living with the purpose of revenge, and acting as a tool or an object. Meninas struggles to reconcile this way of life with any dreams for living in any normal capacity.

07.0. Does your muse know about the original sin of soul society*: YES / NO ? * curious? Read about it here. 07.1. If they knew, would it change their views on Soul Society: YES / NO ? 07.2. More: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ?

08.0. Who is the worst person in their eyes?:  Yhwach, Yamamoto, all of Soul Society 08.1. What should happen to them?  Execution (quick / slow death) / Imprisonment / Stripped of their powers / Torture / Repay for their sins / Pay a Fine / Social Work / lose their loved ones / Exile / other… (add more). 08.2. Explanation:  Frustrating as it is that she can’t force Yhwach to watch his loved ones die because she believes he lacks the capacity for feeling in that regard, she wants him to die quickly and without much thought. No power-stripping, no long drawn out torture, just something to end it all. Soul Society should be stripped of its powers to recognize the cruelty of their dominion and ideals imposed upon all realms.

09.0. Thoughts on the Quincy Massacre if they knew: POSITIVE / NEGATIVE / NEUTRAL ? 09.1. Would they be alright with such thing happening again: YES / NO / INDIFFERENT ? 09.2. Would they try to prevent it: YES / NO / DEPENDS ? 09.3. Explanation: Regardless of how self-focused her goals may appear, she doesn’t want to create a world where more children have to go through what she did.

10.0. Would they ever switch sides: YES / NO ?  10.1. If yes, What could bring them to do so?:    - 10.2. Would they create a new one: YES / NO ?  or join a current one? If so, which: Meninas is now and forever on Meninas’ side.

11.0. Does your muse follow a certain moral code*?:  YES / NO / GRAY AREA ? * (ethics) A written, formal, and consistent set of rules prescribing righteous behavior, accepted by a person or by a group of people. 11.1. What does it involve?: discrimination based on real world (not manga world) issues like racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc shes not a good person but shes not a piece of shit 11.2. What does it NOT involve?: shes cool with murder, torture, manipulation, plotting to kill god. very much “the end justifies the means” for the sake of her ideals  

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE GROUPS ?

Central 46:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: corrupt government that doesnt actually go out on the front lines and have no fucking idea what theyre talking about

Four Great Noble Clans:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: she hates rich people and also its their fault the world is the way it is

Royal Guards / Gotei 13:   positive / negative / neutral .   ━   because: corrupt military upholding their own self serving ideals of justice and righteousness. its hubris that makes them call themselves “shinigami- death gods”. theyre not gods, theyre pathetic people in places of power

Fullbringer:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  truly doesnt care

Visored:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  theyre shinigami AND hollows so extra disgusting

Espada:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  hollows are poisonous. she is not a fan

Quincy:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  the mission is cool, the culture and weird blood purity bullshit with noble lineage is fucked up. she only isn’t completely spiteful because being a quincy herself affords her more power to become stronger, and she loves her parents. overall, she doesnt feel the same loyalty to her kind that others do

YOUR MUSE’S VIEWS / OPINIONS ON THESE (IMPORTANT) PEOPLE ?

Aizen:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  cool that he wanted to revolutionize SS, lame that he relied on hollow power, lamer still that he lost. also, she doesnt like men who talk too much.

Yhwach:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  she sees his ineptitude as a leader and failed god figure just as responsible for her parents’ deaths as soul society. his hubris as a god is just as deplorable as soul society’s itself, it just so happens hes the one who gave her more ability to get her revenge

Mayuri:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  the daten already described him as disgusting, esp detailing his torture on subjects he found to be particularly interesting. Meninas especially hates him after becoming his prisoner in CFYOW following the war. he performed surgery on both her and candice, claiming to have filled their bodies with bombs in order to force them to comply. he took a special interest in the unique state of meninas’ body and muscle density, and as such, there are a number of other “experiments” she underwent at his hands. on top of her being forced to execute soul society’s “dirty work” at his behest in exchange for her life... she hates mayuri

Kurosaki:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because:  she thinks its disgusting that soul society relies so heavily on a child’s power to be a strong military force, even worse that the wandenreich and yhwach himself sought to take control of that power. despite this, she doesnt hesitate to attack him with the intent to kill for the sake of acheiving her own ideals, and shes also bothered by ichigos apparent blind faith in soul society (from her pov)

Soul King:   positive / negative / neutral.   ━   because: she thinks the soul king is a testament to soul society and the nobility being disgusting and cruel. and thats all i got bc i still have to do 3 more of these for wildly different viewpoints and my brain is running low on juice

CONGRATS, you managed till to the end, now tag your fellow bleach partners!

TAGGED BY: @zombiequincy thank u hela TAGGING: idk anyone whos wearing socks i tag u

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: Atonement, chapter 11

Ansem always had a penchant for strays, so it's not at all surprising when he takes in the orphaned child Ienzo. The boy's presence changes everything, far more than Even is willing to admit. Ienzo's brilliance seems promising, but the arrival of a young Xehanort pushes the apprentices onto a dark, cruel, inhumane path which will affect the future of the World. And even once it's all over with--once Xehanort is dead--they still must pick up the pieces, forgive one another, find a way to atone for their atrocities, and struggle to accept the humanity which has been thrust upon them.

Or: Even's journey from BBS through post-KH3

Chapter summary:  Despite Even's efforts, Ienzo makes a choice which ripples across the castle.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

His peace, incredibly tenuous, does not last long.

He receives a call midmorning the next day, from Ienzo. “Even. I need help.” His voice sounds shattered.

“Whatever is the matter?”

“It’s Demyx--”

Even takes a quick breath. “Is he hurt?” He seems to have recovered from that wound, but that means nothing.

Ienzo’s voice is full of glass. “Not physically.”

Oh. Of course. Now that they’re bonded… he may have very well become fully human. And his memories were only a hair’s breadth away. “I think I understand. I’m on my way.” He goes to his lab, grabs a few different things which may be of help.

He finds them in the study room which seems to be their favorite haunt. Despite himself, he feels a concern for the boy--is it for what this implies about his own wellbeing?

“What is it? What’s happened?”

Ienzo has the boy on the ground. The boy’s face is contorted in pain; he’s breathing hard and twitching a little. Ienzo’s face is drawn. “I’m not really sure--he--this score… he insisted it was his, and then he went into this weird trance, and I think he’s remembering something . Even, I don’t know.”

Even catches sight of this supposed score. At a glance, he can tell it’s ancient; much like the young man on the floor. He crouches next to him and begins checking his vitals. The boy’s heart is positively racing. The blood loss was really hard on his heart. “He’s clearly in pain, and cannot maintain a heart rate that high for very long.” He sedates the boy, and finally Demyx settles into it, his expression slackening, his heart rate beginning to lower to something livable.

The boy’s memories must be coming back. The score was a trigger. If he is as emotionally fragile as Even--and is reliving all that war trauma--he might not pull through, his new heart might break.

“You know what this is, don’t you?” Ienzo asks.

He looks back at the score again. It doesn’t surprise him Demyx hasn’t told Ienzo. Where to even begin? Then again, does Ienzo need to deal with yet more lies of omission? “It was not my secret to share.”

“Even,” Ienzo says, his voice sharp and, if he’s reading this right, afraid.

“Xehanort had more than one trump card up his sleeve.” He sighs.“Didn’t you find it strange how we all arrived in groups? Us apprentices with Lea and Isa, and then the four neophytes. There was some degree of time between each arrival, but not nearly enough to justify what were were told. If we were to believe it, that humanoid Nobodies were rare, shouldn’t it have taken a lot longer to find the original thirteen?” He brushes his hair out of his face. “I’m not sure how exactly, but Xehanort pulled four Keyblade wielders from the age of fairy tales and made them Nobodies. Obfuscated their memories too, from the looks of things. I have no idea why it is he did this. But Xemnas told them at some point before the war, and Demyx asked me to investigate. I’m guessing this connection between you two only furthered his progress to humanity, and that when presented with a trigger, the memories came back.”

Ienzo looks down at him, his expression pinched. “So it’s true then.”

Even nods. “...Yes. It’s true. I’ve studied his DNA myself. You positively would not believe it, Ienzo--”

Something like hurt crosses his face. “And you didn’t think it prudent to ever mention this to me?”

“Would it have changed your mind?”

He drops his eyes. “No.”

“Precisely. I assure you he hasn’t experienced that passage of time.”

“...He said he’d remembered something from his past. I did not think it was this. So that means he’s really a--” He bites his lip.

“Yes.” He smiles sadly. “I worked so hard to make replicas who could wield Keyblades, and we had four wielders right under our noses.”

“But will he be all right?”

No point lying any longer. “Hard to say. All of those memories, some doubtless very gruesome and traumatic, his heart just healing… we must be patient.”

Again, they maneuver him to his bed, as gently as possible. Even starts him on fluids, another dose of the sedative. They can’t afford to have his heart rate spike. In all this, and despite his own nursing training, Ienzo doesn’t help; his expression is empty, horrified. He’s crying, though soundlessly. Even takes him away, makes him drink some tea.

“It is… a lot to process,” Even says. “But we’ve seen Roxas and Xion in spells like these and they both came out on the other side. Have faith.” He doesn’t mention that the two had considerably fewer memories to recover. This will not help Ienzo. Then again, Even isn’t sure what will.

In a voice that breaks Even’s heart, he asks, “Why is healing so dangerous?”

Question of the century. “It’s only as dangerous as we delude ourselves,” Even says finally. “Unfortunately, the spell he was under was a strong one.”

“Do you think he’ll be different?”

He thinks about it, about Ienzo’s own dramatic transformation once he returned to himself. This gentle boy is nothing like his cruel Nobody; though likely that took, and is taking, work. “Perhaps,” he says. “But no different than you yourself are. But the boy loves you, Ienzo. You can tell by the way he looks at you. I don’t think that will change.”

He drops his eyes. “Is it typical, to feel this amount of shock?”

He reaches out to feel Ienzo’s temperature. Clammy. “Like many such reactions, it’s a stress response.”

He speaks haltingly. “It is so… strange. With all that’s happened in the past month or so, I find myself wondering if it is good to allow such vulnerability.”

This is the most candid Ienzo’s been with him yet, the closest insight Even’s had to his emotions.

The last thing the boy needs is to close himself off more. “I admit the situations have been… extreme.” Even flinches. “But we’ve spent long enough closing our hearts and minds off to others, don’t you think?”

This doesn’t provide the comfort he thought. “You’re one to talk,” he says in a sharp voice. “You’ve been holed up in your lab all day every day, barely speaking to anyone. You seem to be the most hesitant of us all to accept humanity. Atonement aside.”

Thing is, he’s right. “I don’t deny it. But I have not spent my time experimenting.”

“What are you doing, then?” He looks exhausted now.

“Writing. Reflecting, mostly. Things always were the most tangible to me when they were on paper. If I can record my thoughts as data, perhaps I can make sense of them.”

His eyes soften just a little. “Is it working?”

Even can’t believe it; a real conversation. “Heavens, no. But if I do not tread these tides of emotion, then I am more foolish than I thought.”

He cants his head slightly. “What is it you feel?”

“Mostly--remorse--” He admits. He shakes  his head. “As scientists, one of our duties is upholding a moral code. Needless to say, we broke it. Xehanort was manipulative, yes, but while you were a child, I was an educated man who should have known better. I did know better. But I figured the gains I made would offset the costs. They have not. And now I want to use my skills for the greater good.” But how?

“Do you think the replicas could have anything to do with that?” He becomes yet more earnest.

He still has those samples needing analysis, sitting quietly in the freezer. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.” But--what right does he have to create life, anymore? Isn’t it unnatural? A query to ponder over later--back to the matter at hand, the real, tangible human sitting across from him. He gathers the rest of his remaining strength and looks Ienzo in the eye. “I must apologize to you, Ienzo.”

He blinks. “Even--”

“We can blame Ansem’s utter lack of paternal instinct all we want, but ultimately it is my fault that this all happened to you.” He thinks of his foolhardy plan to escape; even after that there were opportunities.  “I should have understood Xehanort’s machinations and taken you out of that mess, but I was selfishly nearsighted. Things are always clearer in retrospect. Are they not? You deserved a normal childhood, a normal adolescence, and got anything but. And years of fear and trauma on top of it.” Who knew where Ienzo might have gone, otherwise? Without all this holding him back?

The boy exhales. “I forgive you,” he says.

He can’t mean that. There’s no way. But there’s no dishonesty in his face, his body language. A warmth wells in him, something bittersweet. Is it possible to mend their bond? Or is this just another example of Ienzo’s newfound “niceness”? “You’re a kind young man,” Even says. “I will try to make this up to you.” He stands. “I’m off to do some reading. There might be a better way for me to help Demyx after all.” He squeezes the boy’s shoulder.

And retreats to his work.

He wonders if his replicas might be of use once more. The screen seems piercingly bright when he cracks open the laptop.

It’s actually been a while since he’s read the real journals. He starts from the most recent, begins working his way back, skimming over all the biological nonsense, towards the more metaphysical.

There’s a question how to give No. i memories, he reads. It’s going to need them, to carry through--if we hope to make its “heart” worthy of a “Keyblade”, it’s going to need a sense of self, a certain nobility. How to do this while also keeping it under our control?

Oh, Vexen. You naive dunce.

The replica reports aren’t much use. Xion did all the work on her memories herself, almost spontaneously. There has to be something he can do to wavebreak the tide, so to speak; not just for Demyx, but for everyone. He storms to the library, digging for volumes, his hands trembling. In a sort of desperation, he even seeks fairy tales. The boy basically is one. But it’s all magic, and Even has no magic--

He feels helpless. If he fails Demyx, he fails Ienzo. And he can’t do that.

Maybe sleep will give him some clarity?

Some hope.

He’s just drifting when he hears the door creak open. Without thinking, he grabs the scalpel on the table next to him. “Who’s there?”  He blinks, his vision focusing. “Oh… Ienzo? Is something wrong? Is it Demyx?”

“No, he’s still stable--it’s fine. It can wait until morning.” His tone is devoid of feeling.

“Clearly not, if you felt the need to come to me at this godforsaken hour. Whatever is the matter?”

He thinks for a moment. Then, “Do you think it’s possible to regain our powers?”

Of course--with Zexion’s power of illusion, and therefore memory, he might be able to shake this horrid spell, or at least find some way to help. But… humans simply aren’t meant to have these powers, otherwise they would’ve had them already, yes? He’s read something about this… he tries to remember. Won’t the use put yet more undue strain on Ienzo’s body? “Why on earth would  you want that?”

“Illusion let me see memories. If I can gain control over it, maybe I can help purge the darkness in the basement and help whoever’s stuck down there find peace.” He bites his lip. “Demyx is likely to be shaken up. Perhaps I can help him too. If I can make order of his memories, perhaps he will wake up without too much damage to his heart.”

Naturally Ienzo will be the best one to handle this-- if he can control those powers. But the nature of such power is that it is unnatural. It’s not supposed to exist. In their studies, the calculated entropy alone-- “Have you even tried casting a spell?”

“Once,” Ienzo says. “It… did not go well. I had a terrible migraine. I was wondering if you might have some sort of medicine that might let me work through the pain.”

Even darts over to his bookshelf, seeking a certain volume, finding it finally. “You see… the thing is… such elemental power comes from the will, typically as a manifestation of some psychological trait or another. Hence why, in the absence of a heart, we were able to use it as Nobodies. But now that you are human… you’ve no need for such defense mechanism. Your being is whole. Trying to invoke it could be disastrous. The entropy of it alone would, in the best possible scenario, induce sleep.” His heart and will would fight for control over his body, destabilize him…

“Sleep?” the boy asks.

“Sleep akin to death,” Even says darkly. “They must lie so closely together. And you must hope you find the strength, fast enough, to save your life before you’re claimed by the other side. Ienzo.” His turns towards the boy beseechingly. “Would the risk be worth it? Is there not another way you can atone?”

“What about the reward?” he asks instantly.

“Ienzo--”

“Please, Even. I’ll be careful.” His eyes show that his mind is made up. Regardless of whether or not Even helps him, he’s made his decision.

Even can’t make this boy’s choices for him anymore. If he were ever able to. He crosses over to a cabinet, considers what’s left of his store, what’s still good. He finds one of the only painkillers he has which can also allow the boy to remain lucid. “Take half of one of these,” he says sternly. “You’ll feel no pain. But should your nose start bleeding, drop everything instantly and rest.”

“Is that a side effect?”

“No. But that’ll be entropy wreaking havoc on your body.” Even presses the bottle into his hand. “Let me watch over you.”

He looks at the pills. “I think this is something I have to do on my own.”

“You children always think you know what’s best. Fine. But if you do not text me within three hours I will hunt you down.”

He nods. For just a second, Even senses a kinship between them again. “Very well. Thank you, Even. This means a lot to me.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

---

As the timer ticks down… Even frets, and paces. He prepares a kit, should this all go poorly, with fluids and epinephrine and the like. His own anxiety is spiking. But if he were in the same shoes, wouldn't he do everything in his power to save his dear one? Imagine the guilt otherwise?

He can't breathe. Panicking will be no use. You must be calm. Focused. The boy has always been more than he seems. If anyone can do this, it's Ienzo.  

He's still not prepared when it happens. When he hears the gummiphone, and sees it's Ienzo, the relief hangs heavily in him. But the voice that speaks isn't his, it's Demyx, jagged and full of razors--"I need help. Even, I need--”

“Demyx? How long have you been conscious?”

“I think Ienzo’s dying and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Dying. The word echoes heavily, and so does the further gut punch-- I knew it. This is his fault, he should've fought Ienzo harder. “I’m coming. Stay on the line. Put it on speakerphone, do you know how to do that? What happened?"

Demyx sobs. "He found me. In my memory. I don’t know how, but he--he said he wasn’t supposed to have that power."

Even grabs his kit, already on the move. He swears. "No. He isn’t. There’s a reason humans don’t control the elements willy-nilly. What are the symptoms?" How bad did the boy let it get?

"He’s having trouble breathing. His pulse is really fucked up. His nose is bleeding and it seems like he’s in a lot of pain--” He gasps out another sob. "I'm sorry, Even."

His legs feel barely there as he runs. "I know you didn't ask for this."

"Why is this happening?"

The words feel divorced from him. His fingers fly across the screen--he needs more than mere medicine. "Power like that comes from the will. It can only exist without the presence of a fully realized heart--otherwise, it’s too much power. Hence why Nobodies can use it as a defense mechanism. At that point, entropy starts wreaking havoc on the body. Your cells literally start to break down and melt.  The will to live starts to wear down." He has no doubt that the boy overextended himself. His fingers feel numb as he reaches out to that woman, the one who healed Demyx. If she could fix that, she may be the only one to fix this.

Demyx's breath catches. "Ienzo…"

Admittedly, it's a relief that the boy cares so much for him. “I’ve messaged Aerith. I don’t think my skills are enough. We must keep him alive until then.” His heart is beating so fast. You don’t have time to panic, you old fool. Get it together. Demyx can do all the suffering for both of us.  

Distantly, tinnily, he hears, “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”

“Demyx?” he prompts, another thrill of panic making his vision sheeny.

“He’s not breathing.”

“I need you to start doing compressions. Hard. We can fix broken ribs.” He’s almost there. Why did he let himself get so physically weak?

“Why would you do this?” the boy asks. “Why didn’t you let me drown?”

He’s there. Finally. He throws the door open. He sees Ienzo on Demyx’s bed, more corpse at this point than boy, soaked again in blood from his nose, and Demyx frantically trying to do compressions. He pulls the syringe of epinephrine from his bag, sticks the boy. Demyx is sobbing, a weirdly animal sound. Without machinery or magic, Even has no way of truly assessing Ienzo’s condition. He barely has a pulse. “Keep doing what you’re doing,” he says to Demyx as gently as possible. “If you’re tired I can--” But he can tell he’s talking to a wall. The younger man isn’t responding.

Aerith arrives at last. He sees something like horror in her green eyes before a mask settles into place.

“You should go,” Even tells Demyx. The last thing they need is for him to have this mental breakdown right here.

“I’m not leaving him.”

“You are in far too much distress to be a comfort to him.”

“But what if he--”

Even seizes him by the arm and pushes him. He slinks towards the door, trembling all over; Aerith whispers spells, ancient old words. “What happened?” she asks after a moment.

Even explains as quickly as possible.

“I can try to treat the body,” she says, though her teeth. “But if his will is worn down, then--”

“Do you think it is?”

“Oh, it is,” she says. “I use… when I heal, I use people’s own energies, their auras, which is basically the physical version of a will. I can barely feel anything, Even.”

He feels himself go numb. “Is this a fool’s errand, then?”

“Like I said. I’ll try my best. If it would be more of a comfort you could leave too--”

“I will not.”

For a moment, the sharpness of his tone causes her head to snap up; she quickly glances back down. “Can you connect the port line you’ve started to the blood replacement I brought?”

He does what the woman asks, feeling so helpless. “Would it break your concentration, to tell me what’s going on?”

She takes a quick breath. She holds her hands over him, and while it looks like she’s not doing much, Even can see the strain the magic is having. “It’s the internal bleeding that’s the problem,” she mumbles. “Between that, and the nosebleed, he’s lost something like three liters--and he’s a small man. A lot of his organs have failed, and some are bleeding too. Feels like the power must’ve started eating them. Not to mention his heart. It feels like it hasn’t been beating, though I know Demyx was doing good compressions--two of his ribs are broken. He must’ve entered something like sleep to stay alive while he used his powers. Fixing it is going to take time--time I’m not sure he has.” She glances up. “But I’ll try my best.”

“Is there anything I can…” Ienzo’s in more trouble, and he can’t do a single thing except watch.

“Ethers, if you have them. I’m going to need them.”

Numbly, Even nods, and leaves the room. Demyx sits curled next to the door frame, his hands bloody from the compressions, his eyes wide and uncomprehending. “...Boy?” Even asks softly.

He doesn’t respond. Likely he can’t.

He heads back towards his lab, spots Aeleus. At least one thing can be done.

The other man takes in his bedraggled appearance, the spots of blood on his white coat. “Even?” he asks.

“Aeleus, I need you to do something for me--likely several. You need to look after Demyx. He’s in shock. I’m not sure what he might do. I’m afraid Ienzo’s done something foolish in order to save him.” He explains about Demyx’s past, Ienzo’s condition. “I need to be with him, and help that woman how I can. Do not let Demyx in--I don’t care what you have to do to the boy. Nor Ansem, should he approach. Understand?”

Fear breaks his stoic expression. “Of course.”

Even feels himself slipping, adrenaline and panic making him weak and clumsy. He gathers what supplies he has for the healer, and then he returns. “Anything?” he asks her.

“He’s fighting. But he’s so tired,” Aerith explains. “Still unstable. I’m working on it.”

So Even waits. He watches her hands twist and gesture in foreign spells, offers her ethers, water, cloths for the sweat on her face. Mostly he just tries to keep it together, to not allow himself to consider what might happen if Ienzo doesn’t pull through. After what must be hours… she drops her hands, breathing hard. Even begins bracing himself. “Stable,” she says quietly. “The bleeding’s under control. We should probably bring him somewhere he can recover in the long term.”

“...Just pick him up?”

“His body’s rebounding well… that’s not what I’m worried about.”

The door slits open--Even sees Dilan’s face, his own panic mirrored back at him. “What on earth is going on--”

“You moron, we don’t need your meddling right now--”

“Can he carry him?” Aerith asks.

“I’m sure I can,” Dilan says. “But what--”

Even sighs. And explains.

“But why would Ienzo do this?” he asks. “He never--”

“I will not have you fret,” Even snaps. “Let’s get him moved.”

Dilan approaches Ienzo slowly. Despite the transfusion, he still looks deathly pale. As carefully as possible, he lifts him. They settle him back into his own bed; Even dresses him in something clean. He knows the boy is unaware of everything, but still is embarrassed for him anyway. Washes the blood off his face. Tucks him in. Aerith starts another transfusion.

“You said you’re not worried about his body,” he says, suddenly processing what was heard earlier.

She shakes her head. “Now that the damage is largely healed,” she says. “It’s his will to live--healthy body or not, if he’s weakened it, there’s no animating force behind him. It must’ve taken energy to… do what he did. He must’ve essentially lent Demyx his own, to get him out of the memories. There are a… few things I can try, to gauge how bad it is. He’s hanging on now. That’s the important thing.” She looks up. There are bruise-colored circles under her eyes. “Is he a… determined person?”

“...Stubborn to a fault,” Even admits. “How do you think he got in this mess? First he didn’t listen to me about… falling in with that boy, and then he wouldn’t let me monitor him.”

She sighs. “Good. That’s good. It might make all the difference. You should go tell your family.”

It’s the word choice that startles him. “I’m sure Dilan’s doing nothing but making them worry.” But before he can move, there’s a gentle knock.

Ansem, exhausted and haggard. “My poor boy…”

Even scowls. “I thought I told Aeleus to keep you away from here.”

“Aeleus is preoccupied.”

“He doesn’t need more stress.”

“Even, I’ve missed most of the horrific events in Ienzo’s life. The least I can do is be present now.”

“And he definitely doesn’t need you two squabbling,” Aerith says firmly. “Stay, or go, I don’t care, but what Ienzo needs is peace. If it’s something this deeply metaphysical, he’ll definitely sense the difference.”

Ansem nods and approaches the boy, sitting at his feet.

Very well. Let Even do all the heavy lifting. Like he always does.

He leaves. He can feel he’s shaking. If Ienzo passes on… what then?

What would he possibly have left?

He finds the other three in the sitting room; Demyx wrapped in a blanket, Aeleus gently consoling him; Dilan sits with his head in his hands. “He’s stable,” he explains when the three of them look up. “Aerith is with him now.”

“What exactly happened?” Dilan asks. “Demyx said something about overextending his power.”

“As far as I can tell--and it’s still early--that’s the case.” He clutches the back of a chair. “We’re not meant to truly have access to our elemental power. It’s an essence of the self, a projection in the absence of a heart--weapons are another mystery. By trying to regain it, however lightly, the entropy of a Nobody’s nonexistence began to eat away at his organs. Particularly his heart.”

“...The organ?” Demyx asks. It’s the first Even’s heard him speak since. His voice is odd, hollow. “Or--”

“We’re not sure how his metaphysical heart has been affected. But I have to learn to relinquish control when something’s out of my hands… and it is. Aerith is healing the physical damage. He’s asleep right now. Ansem is with him too.” He meets Demyx’s eyes. “Might I have a word with you?”

The boy’s eyes widen a little in fear, but he follows Even, taking the blanket with him. He leads the boy to his quarters, gestures for him to sit. “Can I get you some tea? Something to eat?”

“I’m not hungry.” Hollow and raw.

“You’re going to need your strength.” There’s not much of anything in his cabinets, just some likely stale biscuits in a tin. He places them on the coffee table in front of the boy, but he doesn’t take any. He has no idea how to help. If Ienzo has saved Demyx’s life, the least he can do is be of use. It’s what the boy would want. He starts taking his vitals. “Slight fever. Blood pressure low. Eat something. It’ll help. We should probably try to get some more caffeine into your system too.” Demyx watches him warily. Something looks different about the boy, something Even can’t place his finger on.

“Did you lie to Aeleus and Dilan?”

“Not technically.” He takes off the stained coat, sits. He’s exhausted. “I need to gather more information about the situation. And considering the extreme… delicacy of the situation, I figured you’d rather have some privacy.”

He shivers and won’t make eye contact. “How is Ienzo really?”

“The picture I have is not clear.” He puts a hand to his splitting head. “As I said, use of his power wrought havoc on his internal organs. There’s a good deal of internal bleeding, as well as kidney failure. But the most concerning of these things was his heart. I’m not sure yet for how long or when, but use of his power stopped it from beating. Not… death, exactly, but a type of sleep very near it. Something impossible to maintain without intervention. So, naturally, once he tried to wake back up, he went into shock.” Even pauses. Now that he’s coming down himself, his perception is improving. The boy is different. His eyes were never that deep shade of green. “Have your eyes always been so green, or am I just getting old?”

Demyx stares at him blankly.

“Can you tell me what you recall from earlier yesterday afternoon? Do you remember anything?”

He sighs. It’s a heavy sound. “That’s putting it mildly,” he says. He explains that they’d been working, that he’d realized the ancient score was his. “I just… started remembering. Everything about my life then started coming back, wave after wave after wave. There was just so much pain. I felt like I couldn’t escape it. I couldn’t . And then… well I don’t know how. But he got into my head, literally, and dragged me out of the memory. And then I woke up.”

It’s all starting to click. “...Fascinating,” Even mumbles. “Zexion always could use the memories of others to create illusions. But to actively be able to alter them…” He clucks his tongue. “If he’s closely bonded to you, it makes sense that he was able to do so. Naminé was only able to alter memories of those in and around Sora. His power must have functioned similarly.”

“He should have left me there,” Demyx whispers.

“I believe his friendship with Sora has given him something of a hero complex.” He uncrosses his legs. “Nonetheless, you deserve to live too. I have been too harsh with you. I always have.”

“I wasn’t exactly a good person then.”

The admission surprises him. Demyx always had a sort of cockiness to him in the past. To have him out here so nakedly; is this the memories giving him clarity? Or is it simple change? If Even were not so shocked, he would find it fascinating. “No worse, I’m sure, than I. The complex dynamics of the Organization involved quite a lot of groupthink. It was easy to blame you as the source of our problems. The truth is more nuanced than that.”

“The Organization was all I knew at the time.” He tightens the blanket around his shoulders. “I still wanted to be free. But I didn’t want it enough to make the effort of fighting worth it. So I made do.”

“As one does.” He can’t help but see himself in this story, his wayward attempts at survival doing nothing more than causing himself and Ienzo years of trauma.

“It’s okay.” Demyx sighs. “Dilan and I agreed to start over. Maybe you and me should do the same.”

Even nods. “Second chances involve quite a lot of forgiveness,” he says. “But perhaps we all have more common ground than we think.”

This said, the boy’s eyes settle back into the middle distance. He is different; Even can just feel it. More intense. More serious, and vulnerable. He thought it was the lighting at first, but the boy’s hair has changed, all the remaining blonde gone. Changed like a replica when it gets a heart, though the boy’s body is organic. He holds himself a little straighter.

So he’s done it, then. Completed his reformation. Something similar must be coming towards Even in the coming weeks and months. Something that may be worth studying--at the very least, so he can brace himself, fall apart as little as possible. Not to mention, the richness of what Demyx might know of such old times, times that were hardly written about. Even feels a small thrill despite himself. “I understand you’re still in shock, and naturally are very worried. But will you tell me about your past? I can only imagine what this must all be like for you.”

“Shock is right. I feel numb.” He sounds it.

“Perhaps you should get some rest,” Even suggests.

Demyx shakes his head. “I want to see him.”

How can this traumatized boy offer Ienzo the peace he needs? Not when he himself is so uncertain. “I don’t know if that is necessarily the best for either of you at the moment. Believe me. We will keep an eye on him. Sleep might help you get some clarity.”

“What I’d like to do is take a bath. I’m so cold.”

“Then by all means.”

Demyx leaves without so much as casting a backwards glance in his direction. He hasn’t eaten, Even realizes.

He does not have the strength to care for the two boys and himself at once.

Even sinks into bed. He can feel wetness in his own eyes.

Don’t do this, Ienzo. Don’t give up. Please.

But is he praying for the boy’s sake, or his own?

No; Even does not matter. Ienzo deserves a full and happy life. He still has so much left ahead of him; unlike the rest of them, he can bounce back, can be forgiven for his mistakes (though are they really his own?).

Even can’t sleep. He is numb, tired. He forces himself up. Aerith and Demyx both need feeding. But he finds that Aeleus has already cooked. “The least I can do,” he says softly. “Even… you look positively horrid.”

“I… know why Ienzo did what he did,” he says. “If it were me… if I could save the person most important… I… like to think I would’ve.” I wish I could do it now.

“It makes it no easier,” Aeleus says, with a nod. “You should eat as well.”

“Yes.” Aeleus is a decent enough cook, but the soup tastes like nothing. “Any word?”

“Nothing yet. She hasn’t left that room but to ask for some water.”

“The girl needs food. It’s a lot of magic.” He doesn’t sound like himself. “I’ll get her.”

“Even?”

Wearily, he turns.

“You can be upset about this,” Aeleus says. “I know it must… evoke painful memories.”

Even chuckles. “What doesn’t, these days,” he admits.

Aerith is still crouched by Ienzo. “His body is still alive,” she says when she sees him. “I’m afraid… he’s very deeply asleep.”

“More than on a physical level, I assume,” Even says.

“Well, yes. The will’s worn down, but still here. It needs to rest, to restore itself. Kind of like… putting itself into power-saver mode. Ergo, Ienzo can’t move.”

“Can the boy recover from it?”

“I… believe so,” she admits. “But I honestly have no idea how long it will take. Weeks? Months? I’ve never seen something like this before.”

“I can care for a sleeping child. I’ve done it before.”

She nods, slowly. “I’ll come back later to check on him.”

“Aeleus has made dinner. I insist you go get some. You look peaked.”

“Thank you… saves me the embarrassment of asking.” She smiles a little.

“I… can’t thank you enough. If it were only me…”

Aerith nods. “It’s my duty. My pleasure.” She leaves.

While he’s at it, he rouses Demyx, too, who is just as surly about eating until Even tells him Aerith’s there. Both children fed… he returns to the scene of the crime.

Ienzo sleeps.

Much like that night all those years ago, he’s breathing much too deeply and evenly, not so much as twitching. It’s not natural sleep in that regard. Keeping the body breathing and the heart beating is all his will can manage. He sits next to the boy. He’s positive Ienzo can’t hear him, unlike a normal coma patient; but he still speaks anyway. Science is reasonable; scientists are human. “He’s alright, you know,” Even says to him. “But I’m afraid I’m going to give you a stern talking-to concerning your self worth, when you wake.” He brushes the boy’s hair out of his eyes. His skin is a little feverish. “Do not… scare me like that again.” He squeezes Ienzo’s hand gently.

And lets him sleep.

[bleudied]

IV. Heraldry

Heraldry is as much an artform as it is a nom de guerre for a knight when on the battlefield, indicating the identity and pedigree of one's lineage and the pride they carry as they gallop across war in the name of honor and glory. Better understood as one's coat of arms, the science that goes into heraldry is surprisingly in-depth and the symbolism that is carried through with each element lends itself to describing the character and values an individual is expected to uphold. Heraldry is popularly understood in the context of Arthuriana, in the Middle Ages, where knighthood and chivalry was best understood and conveyed in its most accessible variety. Conveniently, Faerghus is situated with countless references to this time period and region. The symbolism of the coat of arms Faerghus and the Blue Lions carry for their banners establishes a constant theme expressed not only by those who fight in its name but for Dimitri himself.

When looking at the coat of arms for Faerghus, it's azure, chevalier on gryphon statant argent, Crest of Blaiddyd argent, pallets argent; the breakdown will be organized following the elements as listed.

Firstly, the color azure. Azure is actually a fairly uncommon tincture used in heraldry, but it can be seen in the coats of arms for King Arthur and Sir Kay. The tincture azure chiefly represents chastity, strength, sincerity, loyalty, and piety ( in terms of planetary governance, azure is associated with Jupiter ). As one might assume, these ideals hold steadfast to those that are admired by the knights of Faerghus, known to uphold chivalry and the kingdom itself having an intimate connection to the church ever since it offered authority to Lugh as the first king of the newly-established Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, then permitted to proselytize throughout the area to spread the influence of the Church of Seiros. Dimitri himself is someone who values sincerity and loyalty, preferring to trust others before casting distrust. While he hides more than he leads on, Dimitri is a man of genuine intent, wearing his heart on his sleeve and incapable of hiding the kindness instilled within him for too long; that being said, he is also a remarkably strong individual in all but his willpower, carrying an imposing figure five years later and being a king that inspires others to follow him even if they believe his kindness to be a place of weakness, admitting its strengths and appealing optimism. Azure’s governance over the planet Jupiter suggests also a theme of kingship, hence why King Arthur’s most well-known coat of arms displays an azure field; in a way, its presence then lends itself to Dimitri’s path in claiming his right to kingship.

The image of a mounted creature is another uncommon sight, rarer than the azure tincture, and depicts a knight riding a griffin. Perhaps the existence of the griffin is a nod to the former union of the Adrestian empire and the newly-formed Kingdom of Faerghus, as the griffin is a mythical creature with parts bird and parts lion. As a result, it is twofold symbol of bravery and strength, of courage and boldness, military leadership, intelligence, and vigilance. The color argent, or silver/white, represents peace, sincerity, innocence, purity, and the Moon. While the moon itself carries far too many meanings and warrants its own meta due to Dimitri being the Azure Moon, the other values represent the very ideals that knighthood is ideally meant to protect as per chivalric code ( thou shalt respect all weaknesses, and shalt constitute thyself the defender of them; thou shalt be generous, and give largesse to everyone; thou shalt be everywhere and always the champion of the Right and the Good against Injustice and Evil. ). As one who upholds much of these values, Dimitri is someone who is naturally predisposed to want to protect the weak, going so far as to sully his own hands and become unclean himself so that others may live on in peace.

I will venture into the Crest of Blaiddyd another time as it deserves its own meta, but the pallets ( the two lines of argent ) represent military strength and fortitude. This imagery, coupled with the griffin highlights the utter ruthlessness and value of strength in Faerghus, where children are taught to fight before learning to write their own name. Dimitri himself embodies this concept in spades due to his unusual gift of strength and his comfort zone being in the battlefield, wherein he is able to cast aside his limiters and permit his viciousness to unveil itself before his foes. But to say that this is all there is to this concept would do it an injustice as Dimitri is also an excellent general who values the lives of those around him ( outside of his dark period ), caring for the lives and lamenting the deaths of his soldiers and comrades as if he lost another member of his kin. That being said, he is an enduring individual, who contradicts his care for others by discarding care for himself, wielding valor in his right hand and daring all dangers, even death itself if it means delivering peace. For five years Dimitri wandered alone and survived alone; his strength is just shy of being inhuman.

We finally find ourselves with the coat of arms for the Blue Lions. Due to the design for the Blue Lions being irregular and not easily applicable to standard rules for heraldry, certain liberties will be taken.

The coat of arms for the Blue Lions is party per fess argent and azure, lion's face affronté azure. As expressed earlier in this meta, azure and argent represent ideals of sincerity, loyalty, piety, innocence, peace, etc. In stark contrast, however, bleu celeste is a considerably newer ticture and therefore does not hold similar significance compared to the aforementioned; therefore, one can inject meaning in this featureless tincture as something apropos for the Blue Lions, being a class in the Officer’s Academy where students are enrolled to learn about themselves and find their strengths so that they may grow into a brighter tomorrow.

The fess stands for military honor, a readiness for battle in order to stand for the people should danger arise. With the Blue Lions standing as knights-to-be destined to fend their homeland from threatening forces, it stands to reason that they would require the fess as a reminder of their duty to the people, most of all Dimitri whose very nature and aspirations involve helping those who cannot help themselves. For Dimitri, to become a shield for the weak is what a knight of Faerghus ought to aspire, and for as lofty and unrealistic as it may sound—because it is—these are the values that allow him to continue pursuing his campaign to bring the Adrestian Empire to its knees. He believes that if his gifted strength and talents for bloodshed only have their place on the battlefield, they might as well be utilized towards a just cause, lest he abuse his station and become the very ideal he wished to eliminate.

Finally we arrive at the lion. The lion alone is another topic deserving of a meta. Its azure hue strengthens the ideals of the Faeghus coat of arms for a new generation to uphold. While the breadth of animals used in heraldry is extensive, none capture as strong of a presence as the lion. Unlike the common lion rampant, the Blue Lions depict a lion’s face affronté, yet the symbolic importance of it remains the same: courage, nobility, royalty, strength, stateliness and valour. Lions are a common symbol for royalty to use in their coat of arms ( e.g. King John, Richard the Lionheart, etc. ) and Dimitri is no exception to this, having lion imagery employed in his personal battalions as well as his own demeanor as Lugh reincarnated. In addition to the aforementioned qualities, the lion is seen as a symbol of chivalry, contrasting the eagle which is used as a symbol of imperialism, the dichotomy of which does not go ignored with the dynamic between the Holy Kingdom and the Empire.

The coat of arms for the Holy Kingdom and Blue Lions houses within it a testament to its history, the values it still fights to uphold since the days of Lugh during the War of the Eagle and Lion, and the hope of a future that continues to maintain these lofty traditions for the good of all.

[wellwitchings]

DRAGONHEART (1996) Roleplay Starters

Change pronouns and titles, adapt dialect accordingly.

Especially suitable for royalty/fairy tale/period AUs, as well as verses involving dragons, knights and/or grifters.

“Fight with your head. Not your heart.”

“Dreams die hard, and you hold them in your hands long after they've turned to dust.”

“Everyone's a critic!”

“Next time stab more flesh, less cloth.”

“Oh, you're good. Haven't had this sort of challenge in some time.”

“You have the poet's gift of exaggeration.”

“This could cleave a man's skull. Like a pudding.”

“No one ever found victory in the dirt.”

“ln a few days, it'll be just another scar.”

“Honor won't feed my belly nor shoe my horse.”

“How do l know l can trust you?”

“The wound is deep.”

“No bright souls glitter in this darkness.”

“Have you been watching over me all night?”

“Don't clutter up a clever scheme with morality.”

“And what's one more scar?”

“Here, widen your stance.”

“Marvelous! Heroics befitting the days of Arthur and the Round Table!”

“Now swear!”

“I'm tired of lurking in holes and skulking in darkness.”

“Not bad. But not good enough to live.”

“l'm gonna let you up now. And if you insist, we can pursue this fracas to its final stupidity. Or you can listen to my alternative.”

“There's nothing noble about crushing desperate men.”

“Live, and remember your oath.”

“Shall l spice it up with a poetical flourish or just the cold, hard facts?”

“Forgive a doubting fool.”

“Mind if l sit down?”

“l should have met you a long time ago.”

“Uh, you can keep your gratitude. l'll take the gold.”

“Look good, ____. l'm the last thing you'll ever see.”

“Call when you need of me.”

“As my friend, strike, please!”

“My sword, my service are yours.”

“Not so rebellious now.”

“You're just trying to save your scaly hide with tricks.”

“Death should be a release, not a punishment.”

“I don't know where you are. lf you're coming back, when you're coming back. You just … disappear.”

“How dare you defy me!”

“Why waste good food on bad rhetoric?”

“You've been bewitched.”

“Remember the Code!”

“You should never listen to minstrels' fancies.”

“Have you forgotten everything l taught you?”

“Today l make a new vow! l will spend the rest of my life hunting you down!”

“When you are king, remember today … and the difference between battle and butchery.”

“Die! lt's mine!”

“l give you my word.”

“There's nothing to forgive.”

“There is much gold in the world. Perhaps when you've had your fill of it, you'll no longer need me.”

“l don't want to kill you! l never did!”

“You must stay awake, ____!”

“Your song is sad!”

“Are the stars shining tonight?”

“Marvelous, we'll kill each other.”

“Haven't you noticed the pickings are rather slim these days?”

“Ah, the king's ____ … cruel and full of trickery.”

“l need your help.”

“No one is above the Code … especially the king.”

“You coward.”

“You're the sorry scrap of dead worlds and dead beliefs.”

“Never have l seen such skill!”

“lt seems we're in a bit of a stalemate, wouldn't you say?”

“You belittle your talent. Modesty as well as valor.”

“Help! Help!”

“Your honor has a price, ____?”

“Dragons are partial to maiden sacrifices, l hear.”

“l'm on a pilgrimage. Might we travel together?”

“l will not be that naive again!”

“Some are good at hunting men, some are good at hunting money. Both have value for me.”

“l told you not to come here anymore.”

“Care to double the wager?”

“Stand still. Stand still.”

“l merely chewed in self-defense, but l never swallowed.”

“Peasant scum.”

“l've always said death is a release, not a punishment.”

“Oh, don't concern yourself with my safety!”

“lf l were you, l'd quit while l was ahead.”

“Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise.”

“A truce.”

“ls that the best you can do?”

“l've given you my final warning.”

“Only you could keep such a good brain under such a bad hat.”

“lt's honest enough work. One must earn a living.”

“l swear.”

“Now, is there somewhere you would like me to drop you off?”

“l've had enough of your mischief!”

“Ask what you will of me.”

“A little overconfident, aren't we?”

“My humble life is in debt to your exalted prowess, your dauntless courage, and your superb, swift sword.”

“And you'll kill me for sport?”

“Get out of my mouth and let's talk face-to-face.”

“Pride goeth before the fall.”

“l am a Knight of the Old Code. My word is my bond.”

“All my life l've dreamed of serving noble kings … noble ideals.”

“Why should l stick my neck out for people afraid to risk their own?”

“That's all it is, a memory. Nothing can bring it back.”

“Only expose your back to a corpse!”

“So l no longer try to change the world, _____. l just try to get by in it.”

“We're all going to die!”

“You gave me this scar. Didn't you? I ... owe ... you.”

“You know what you ask.”

“lt's not the profit. lt's the pleasure.”

“l'll pierce your heart!”

“The peasants are revolting.”

“Only a fool would join you!”

“Out of my way, peacock.”

“Oh, don't flatter yourself.”

“l won't let you suffer the same fate as me.”

“l would be honored to be named after those stars.”

“Aren't we squeamish?”

“Go on. Kill me!”

“Give me your sword, Knight.”

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Pick on someone your own size!”

“l do long for death. But fear it.”

“Be careful!”

“Strike before it's too late!”

“You have a healer's touch, _____.”

“Let others stand with you. You'll see this time the end will be different.”

“Meat. Meat. Meat.”

“lt's a divine omen.”

“My sacrifice became my sin.”

“That's right, you don't need me. Settle it yourself.”

“A knight is sworn to valor. His heart knows only virtue. His heart knows only virtue. His blade defends the helpless. His might upholds the weak. His word speaks only truth. His wrath undoes the wicked.”

“Now l know you're completely mad.”

“Beginner's luck.”

“Steady.”

“l'll give you everything. Even power.”

“Witness the wonders of an ancient glory.”

“l'm afraid of nothing! Nothing! You understand?”

“You already know the courage in your village. They're very brave at pelting young girls with vegetables.”

“ln giving my heart, l've taken on every poison stirring in his evil breast. Even the pain of his death must be mine.”

“You cannot blame yourself.”

“A dragon would never hurt a soul, unless they tried to hurt him first.”

“When you squeeze the nobility, it's the peasants who feel the pinch.”

“Forgive me if anything l said ... if l upset you.”

“l wanted to correct a mistake made years ago, when l saved a creature not worth saving.”

“Even then l knew his bloodthirsty nature, but l thought my heart could change him.”

“Lo, l'm immortal.”

“We're going to die!”

“Well, how many dragons do you know?”

“You tricked me, ____! No matter where you fly, no matter where you go, l will find you!”

“Through the heart, we share each other's pains and power.”

“Once you swore your sword and service were mine; to call when l had need of you, to ask what l would of you. l hold you to your vow, ____!”

“Half my heart to make you whole. lts strength to purify your weakness.”

[zykamiliah]

Cinderella!Lancelot AU

Featuring warlock Merlin as the fairy godmother, Arthur as himself, and a great tournament instead of a ball.

Inspired by ask between @lit-beyond-measure and @rainbowvamp.

This story could go like in canon, with Lancelot saving Merlin when he was herb-picking, but instead of a griffin it's just a bunch of nasty bandits. Merlin was about to blast them into the void but Lancelot just saw a lanky lad with a bunch of flowers and his heroic instincts kicked in.

Lancelot does get hurt in the fight, and while he’s passed out, Merlin uses magic to speed his healing (here magic is not exactly illegal, just secretive). Then he takes him to his home, a little house in the lower town of Camelot. Lancelot was going there anyway, for reasons he was too shy to explain at first. In thanks for saving his life, Merlin lets him live with him, for as much time as Lancelot needs it.

Merlin is some kind of town healer, using subtle spells here and there in his remedies. At first he tries to be discreet about the magic, but Lancelot walks on him directing all his cleaning tools around: the broom is dancing to the rhythm of Merlin's humming, the duster trying to slack of when the warlock is not looking. In the end he explains the truth about his powers to his guest, who quietly fascinated and asks him and grows to love all of Merlin little magic tricks.

Several days later, there’s an announcement that has the market bubbling with excitement: there will be a tournament, hosted by the royal family, and all knights from the kingdom and beyond are welcome to participate. The one knight whose performance impresses the prince, will be welcomed among the knights of Camelot, the most prestigious of all the land.

And of course Lancelot wants to participate. A bit sheepishly, he confides in Merlin about his dreams of youth, his hopes of one day becoming a knight, doing great deeds and serving a just king while upholding the knight’s code in everything he does. He’s aware, he tells Merlin resignedly, that it’s impossible, that he’s but a nobody with no titles, land or family.

Merlin can’t help but feel moved by the soft radiance of Lancelot’s longing.

“I’ll make you look like a knight. They will skeptic at first, since they have never heard of you, but with my magic, no one will question it.”

“That would be lying,” Lancelot frowns, conflicted. “It goes against everything a knight should stand for.”

Merlin simply raises his eyebrows, mock confused.

“You don’t want to be a knight, then?”

Lancelot does want to, has wanted to since the moment he lost his family and was forced to work for the warlord Hengist, devoting the little time he had between chores and beatings to practice with a wooden sword, and then with a real one he had acquired in secret. When he was old enough, he had escaped. And now he is here, as close to his dream as he will ever be.

“I’m just getting you in. You’ll prove yourself without any tricks,” he says earnestly. “What do you say?”

And Lancelot, despite the warning bells from the most law-abiding side of his mind, says yes.

The day of the tournament Lancelot presents his seal of nobility with trembling fingers, and a face that’s not his. Apart from the occasional shyness when talking to the other participants, he’s dazzling and handsome in a way that almost outdoes the prince of Camelot, who eyes him curiously. His armor shines brightly in the sunlight, his sword seems to sing every time he swings it through the air, and his mount’s coat is whiter than pearls, with a glow of its own.

Lancelot smiles after every victory, happier than he had ever been, and the ladies swoon when he waves his hand at the stands. Merlin, seated among the people, smiles and waves back.

At the end of the first day, the prince, glowing in all his golden glory, approaches him to congratulate him.

“Sir Lancelot. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you do. You excelled in every contest,” he says with a pleased smile, clapping Lancelot soundly in the arm.

“Th-thank you, my lord,” he stutters, wide-eyed. “I’m honored.”

The prince insists in being called Arthur, and soon draws him into a conversation about sword techniques and the like, and they are so engrossed in exchanging pointers that Lancelot doesn’t realize it’s sunset, and his time is nearly up. It’s the first time anyone aside from Merlin has acknowledged him like this, and he’s flushing with embarrassment, and a little bit of pride, if he’s being honest.

He excuses himself and rushes away as fast as decorum allows him, toward his tent, just in time for his armor turns into Merlin’s metal plate set, and his helmet into a bucket. The only thing that was real was his sword, only less shiny.

_______________

TBC?? Honestly my brain can go past Lancelot striking some sort of rapport with Arthur, and then doing an disappearing act after the 3rd day of the tournament, which moves Arthur to start a search for his runaway knight-to-be. What could Lancelot leave behind? 

[secretagentspydetectiveninja]

The Misadventures of Prince Kim - chapter 71

The second-last chapter of the fic, and BY FAR the longest and most dramatic, because we all need to suffer.

Here on AO3, where the Morse code doesn’t auto-format and screw things up like it does on tumblr, thanks a lot tumblr

Adrien was frozen on the spot. Surely he must be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something. This couldn’t be real. Perhaps the long journey had taken a toll on him, perhaps he just needed a good long rest.

But seeing the look in Marinette’s eyes, a mix of terror and fury as she looked past his shoulder behind him, his worst fears were confirmed. He braced himself and turned around, dread settling into his stomach.

There, right in front of him, stood his father. Emperor Gabriel of Agreste, the ruler over millions of people worldwide, was a tall, imposing man. It was unnerving to see him in a corridor usually populated by scrawny noble teenagers. He was decked out in his military uniform, dozens of badges gleaming on his chest, the gold buttons polished enough to shine brightly even in this dark, dreary atmosphere. In fact, Adrien could not remember the last time he saw him in more casual clothing.

Emperor Gabriel was watching Adrien with those cold eyes of his, the tiniest of triumphant smiles on his face. Adrien was still in too much shock to move – he had not seen his father in person for what must be well over a year now. And he had expected that he would at least have a little respite before the inevitable confrontation. In all his speculations, he had never considered that he would come face to face with his father as soon as arriving at school.

“Son, I’m glad to see that you have finally returned. I’ve been waiting.”

Gabriel had spoken again, his superficially kind words doing nothing to mask the anger in his voice. He began walking towards Adrien – only for Marinette to step in between them, an arm out to protect Adrien.

“Please step aside,” Gabriel commanded. “I would like to speak with my son. This does not concern you.”

Adrien had known that when it came down to it, Marinette would ignore the commands of the world’s most powerful emperor for him without hesitation. But seeing her glare at Gabriel, refusing to move in spite of direct orders, almost brought tears to his eyes. He clenched his fists. Enough of this catatonia – if his friends could stand up for him, then he could stand up for himself too.

“I don’t know what delusions you are under,” Gabriel continued, annoyance seeping through his otherwise controlled demeanour, “but I am not going to harm Adrien.”

“Perhaps not physically,” Marinette retorted, though Adrien saw her warily glancing at the sword hanging at his Gabriel’s waist.

“It’s okay, Marinette,” Adrien said, gently putting a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll talk to him. I’ll have to at some point, it may as well be now.”

“Fine. Be careful.” She stepped back and allowed him in front of her.

He looked up at his father, bad memories flooding back into him so fast he could feel his destruction powers bleeding right through his fingers, threatening to destroy the air itself. In the past, seeing Gabriel or even just hearing his voice was enough to subdue Adrien, restrain him into obeying the rules of his dull, cruel, imperial lifestyle. But now? Now it was filling him with anger.

“What do you want, father?” He noted with satisfaction that Gabriel seemed taken aback by the fire in his voice, at least for a few seconds. He had never spoken to his father like that before. Not directly. It felt good, so good! His very fingertips were tingling with destructive energy, waiting to be unleashed.

“Adrien,” Gabriel said, attempting to sound kinder, “I have missed you. Do you know how worried I was when you recklessly ran away from home like that? I am glad you have come to your senses. Now, we can return home together and forget that this all ever happened.”

He reached out an arm, but Adrien instinctively pulled away. For years and years he had wished to hear his father regard him with such affection – but in these circumstances, it just made him sick. Gabriel had missed him? Perhaps it was true, in its own twisted way, but he didn’t care.

“I will not be returning home right now,” Adrien said. “I’m here to complete my education. And I know if I go back, you’ll just put me under house arrest again.”

“I would not refer to it as house arrest. This school has caused you to become rebellious, and I would like to keep you within your palace quarters until you are back to normal.”

“Being repressed isn’t normal, father! I want freedom! And it doesn’t matter if you put me back under house arrest, or whatever you call it. I’ll never be like you.”

Gabriel sighed, rubbing his forehead. “This is what I meant by ‘rebellious’. It is exactly why I asked Nathalie to keep you in the palace while I was away. The longer you stay away from home, the more commoner-like you become. This time, however, I will see to your education myself. You will return home with me, now, and I will not tolerate your disobedience any longer. You’re really trying my patience.”

It was Adrien’s patience that was reaching its end now. Every single word his father said was grating on him more and more, and he couldn’t take it. He just couldn’t take it!

“I’m not going back with you!” he snapped. “And anyway, no amount of house arrest and propaganda shoved down my throat is going to change anything! If you try to take me back, I’ll fight every step of the way. And when I’m emperor, I’ll undo all your cruel work. If you disown me, then you won’t even have any heirs. Your precious empire will splinter away into nothing once you’re gone, and all your conquests will have been for nothing.”

“Adrien–”

“No, let me speak! You never listened to me, ever, did you? You were a terrible father. You had me, your own son, locked up! Out of a twisted sense of love! Blaming maman leaving for everything that’s wrong with you! And… and you tried to kill my friend. Prince Kim. Yes, he’s my friend, my very good friend, and you tried to kill him, all because you want to add his country to your special collection, as if the lives of the millions of people who live there, or anywhere else in the world, mean nothing. But I won’t be part of your worldly chess game, no matter what you do. The people of the world deserve better than being forced against their will to assimilate into the orders of a person like you. And… I deserve better too. My life is my own to live, and I’m not letting you take that away from me.”

All the way through his outburst his voice had grown louder and louder, and now he had stopped, leaving the torrential rain as the only sound filling in the ensuing silence. Adrien glared at his father, more furious than ever. He did not regret losing his temper, raising his voice – and for the first time in quite a while, he did not feel afraid at all.

It took several moments before Gabriel spoke again, his voice much more level than Adrien’s fiery rant.

“Your loss, son. You would have made a great emperor, had you just been like me. But I suppose you are too sensitive for that. Just like the commoners and lower royalty and nobility that you cherish so much. You simply do not understand the true ruthlessness of the world, and therefore you cannot thrive in it. Are there any other empires as strong as mine? No, because there are no other emperors like me.”

“No other emperors as hated as you, you mean.”

“You underestimate my power, Adrien. Every battle won is a step towards winning the war. By the time I die, the whole world will be in my hands. And if it breaks after I’m gone? Then people will look back at me as the one who held it all together, upholding my legacy. It is a win no matter what. My conquests will live forever, with or without your help.”

Had he really spent so much time amongst his own armies, amongst his own supporters, that he really believed all this?

“You don’t know anything about the world at all,” Adrien said. “Everyone will remember you as a dictator. Because that’s what you are.”

“The commoners need guidance from a strong-willed leader. If they cannot appreciate the help I am giving them by being that leader, then that shows why none of them are fit to rule. And if you and your friends here at school do not understand that, then none of you are fit to rule either. Speaking of which: tell me, where is the prince of Lê Chiến?”

Adrien, having only just arrived at school himself, had no idea. But evidently his father did not know that. “I won’t tell you. Why would I betray him to you, when I know you’ll just kill him and take his country while it’s weak?”

“You do have a talent for putting things in a way that makes them sound bad, don’t you? I am saving his country. My intelligence reports that the boy is far too impulsive to be a good ruler. I am doing his people a favour. Now, tell me where he is.”

“Kim has changed, father. He used to just be a silly kid, like lots of people. But he’s a good prince now. And more importantly, he’s a good person. He doesn’t try to kill innocent people just because he wants their land, unlike someone else I know. He’s going to be a wonderful king. I actually used to have a crush on him, did you know that? He was my first kiss and everything. I hope that annoys you.”

“There are much more ‘annoying’ things I am concerned about right now. Such as his whereabouts.”

Adrien folded his arms. “I’m not telling you.”

“Well then, you’re no son of mine. I will find himself, and end this once and for all.”

With that, he turned to leave. At this point Adrien’s fury was so strong that his powers of destruction were practically leaping out of his hands, raring to go. To think that his father was going to kill Kim, having given up on sending assassins – he was going to outright, directly, kill him! It riled him up so much that the very world around him seemed to have a red tinge to it.

Adrien raised his hand, watching his father’s retreating back. It really was time to end this once and for all.

All he had to do was run up, put his hand on the back of Gabriel’s pointlessly intricate uniform, and watch as his powers disintegrated all his problems into dust. It would only take a second. It was that easy. Gabriel was right there, within range.

Now was the time to do it.

Right now.

And yet… and yet…

He hesitated. Half of his brain was screaming at him to just go for it, and he wanted more than anything to listen to it.

But the other half, sentimentality was trickling in, filling his boiling blood with ice, rooting him to the spot.

He took a half-hearted step forward, but it was already too late. Doubts were clouding his mind, the anger melting away into frustration. His hand, wavering in the air, slowly lowered on its own accord. All his motivation was flooding out of him before he could stop it.

No… no, he couldn’t… he couldn’t do it…

“Adrien?” He heard Marinette’s footsteps running up from behind, then her arms closing around him. “You were… that was…”

He had almost forgotten that she was there. But right now, he couldn’t even bring himself to feel a shred of relief. Thrusting his face into his hands, he let the tears start running out of his eyes.

“Marinette, I… I can’t kill him! I know I should have! To save Kim. But… I j-just couldn’t…”

He groaned in frustration, tugging at his hair. The urgency of the situation was dawning on him. Sure, Gabriel was his father, but a terrible one! One who neglected him for years, restricting him on every front in the same totalitarian ways he ruled his empire, then had him locked away! And now that terrible, terrible man was going to go and kill his friend – and yet Adrien couldn’t even bring himself to end his life first, even when the world depended on it!

“We’ll find another way,” Marinette said firmly. “There must be a way. We can go find Kim first, and warn him. Smuggle him out of here or something.”

Adrien lifted his face away from his hands, grateful to see the supportive look Marinette was giving him. “Do you know where he is?”

“No, unfortunately I don’t, and without Lila or Alya here I’m not sure if there’s a quick way to find out, but I suppose I could try using my luck powers or something…”

“Will he be in his dorm? Should we check there first?”

“That might be a good idea, though he usually goes for runs at this time of evening so it’s unlikely–”

Their conversation was interrupted by shouts from across the corridor, towards the entrance.

“MARINETTE! ADRIEN! THERE YOU ARE!”

They turned to see some rather bedraggled-looking people running up to them. Once they were closer, however, Adrien realized that these people were none other than Alya and Nino. They were alright – oh, thank goodness! A stroke of happiness hit his heavy heart, cheering him up ever so slightly. He had missed his friends so much, and at this point in time, was fully expecting something terrible would happen and he would never get to see them again.

He ran over, only to be knocked down in a hug from the both of them. Only when he pulled away did he notice their injuries.

“What happened to you?” Marinette asked, helping them all up off the ground.

“Pirates, long story,” Alya said. She was out of breath. “But we have a warning. We saw a ship from the Agreste Empire on its way here earlier today. Looks like Gabriel’s sent someone to come fetch Adrien.”

“Gabriel is already here. He just talked to us, actually.”

“Really?! What did he say? Where is he now?”

“He wanted me to go home with him,” Adrien said. “But I refused. And yelled at him. And then he said he was going to go find Kim, and… and I should have killed him with my destruction powers, but…”

“It’s alright,” Marinette insisted. “Alya, do you know a quick way for us to find Kim? This school is huge and there are so few people here right now, he could be anywhere, even out for a run or something, and we can’t let Gabriel get to him first!”

Alya thought for a few seconds, but then shook her head. “I can’t really think of anything, since most of my spy network left before the spring holidays, even Lila…”

“What about your powers?” Nino suggested to her. “Illusions, right? You could make a bunch of Kim illusions to distract Gabriel, or… or use illusions to like, I dunno, send distant Morse code messages to his friends to ask if they know where he is, or…”

“Nino, that could actually work! Alix and Markov both know Morse code, right? And that snake? Their dorm windows are visible from the area of the courtyard that we’re near… yes, yes, this might work! Come on, let’s hurry!”

She began running over to the nearest door, and the others all followed, even Plagg running along behind the group. Alya opened the door to the courtyard and stepped out into the heavy rain, looking up at the windows on the distant opposite wall.

“I’ve only used my powers once so far,” she called over the rain to the others, who were standing just inside to watch. “But I think I know how to do it. In situations where it’s urgent, it just sort of… comes naturally, I guess.”

Putting her hands together, she furrowed her brows and focused hard. Within a few seconds, a blindingly bright light shone out of her palms, so bright it made the overcast sky look bright and sunny.

“Got it! Now, my Morse code is a little rusty, but I’ll start sending a repeating message and hope they see it.”

There was no doubt that they would see it if they were in the dormitories, considering how bright the light was. It would be impossible not to notice. Alya began flashing the light over and over, getting soaked to the skin but not caring one bit. The others just watched in silence, waiting for a reply somehow, perhaps someone running down to the courtyard to find them and answer their question, hoping that somehow this would work…

-

-

-

Max sat in his dorm room at the desk, looking over his little sleeping robot by flickering candlelight. The lack of reliable electricity was so frustrating! Not only could Markov not charge his batteries, meaning it was best for him to remain in sleep mode, but the overhead lights barely worked either! Occasionally they’d alight for a few brief seconds, only to shut off again and leave the building in darkness once more. It was enough to give someone a headache.

At least he had Alix for company while he tinkered with Markov, trying to do something useful such as improving his battery life or giving him extra features. He may as well. So far he had added a radio connection, an LED torch, and had even begun plans to waterproof him so that he wouldn’t have to stay out of the rain. Markov had indeed been complaining about being unable to swim like humans did – and Max very much suspected that Ondine had something to do with that.

“I think Adrien’s just arrived,” Alix said, perched up on the desk to watch Max’s work.

“Oh? How do you know?”

“Because he’s just made it back to school in the exile timeline, the one where I’m with him.”

Max smiled. “Excellent. It would be good to see him again, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah. Ooh, in the other timeline he’s just run into Marinette, and the other me has decided to go off and leave them alone because she wants them to get together, like how they are in this timeline…”

“Are they not together in that timeline then?” Max did not want to admit that he could not keep track of everything going on in all these confusing timelines, but it was true. The only ones who seemed to be able to truly tell what was going on were Alix and her pet snake.

“No, but hopefully they will be. Hey – the other me just ran into Count Wayhem! Okay, she’s telling him to go find Adrien and give him the cat, ‘cause it’s his guardian animal so he needs to protect it and needs its help to control his powers properly.”

So Adrien didn’t have the cat already in the other timeline either? This really was a mess. “What else is happening? Please continue this running commentary, it’s entertaining.”

“Of course it is. So yeah, Wayhem’s run off with that cat to go find Adrien, and the other me is on her way up to the dorms… she’s knocking on your door now… you just opened the door, and…”

“And what?”

Alix grinned. “The other me is kicking herself for thinking that you wouldn’t be happy to see her, ‘cause you really are. You hugged her and told her how much you’d missed her. And now you’re gonna show her Markov, since she hasn’t met him.”

“I’m glad to hear that Markov exists in that timeline too.”

“Yeah, me too. And now…”

She trailed off, looking towards the window. Max did too – there seemed to be some sort of very bright light shining through it, illuminating the entire room. What on earth was that? He stood up and walked over to take a look.

Over in the corner of the courtyard he could just about see someone, though he couldn’t tell from here who it was. They seemed to be creating the bright light from their hands alone! Was it someone with superpowers? Max could not recall anyone who had superpowers like that.

The light had begun flashing now, lighting up the room in spurts like fireworks.

..- .-. --. . -. - // - .... .. ... / .. ... / .- .-.. -.-- .- // .-- .... . .-. . / .. ... / -.- .. -- // --. .- -... .-. .. . .-.. / .. ... / .-.. --- --- -.- .. -. --. / ..-. --- .-. / .... .. --//

He turned to look at Alix, who had come over to watch too. After a minute or so of internally translating, she spoke.

“It’s an urgent message from Alya. She says that Emperor Gabriel’s here, looking for Kim, and she needs to know where he is…”

Gabriel was looking for Kim? Max’s brain immediately went into protection mode. “We can’t let Gabriel find him.”

“Well where is he? Do you know?”

“He went off to the big balcony in the new wing.”

“Damn, I really am psychic. I had a bad feeling about that place ages ago, I totally called it.”

Max looked back down out of the window. “How are we going to tell Alya?”

“I guess I could skate down there as fast as I can, but she’s all the way on the opposite side of the courtyard so it’ll take forever…”

“I have an idea.” Max walked back over to the desk. “We’ll use Markov.”

“What, are you gonna make him fly down there or something? It’s raining. He doesn’t even have much battery left.”

“No, we’ll use his LED lights.” He pressed the power button and waited a few seconds. Markov’s eyes opened, looking around.

“Max? Alix? You turned me back on? Is the electricity working again?”

“Not consistently, no. But we need you for something important. I’ve installed you with powerful LED lights, and I’m not sure that you have enough battery power left for you to use them for too long, but we need to send an urgent Morse code message to someone down in the courtyard and this is the quickest way.”

Markov propelled himself out of Max’s hands and into the air. “Of course I’ll help you with that! What’s the message?”

Alix had already been writing it on a piece of paper, and now handed it to Markov. “Here. Go to the window and then use your power lights, or whatever.”

“Okay!”

Markov flew over to the window, then used the newly installed torch to begin shining bright messages back. His light seemed just as powerful as Alya’s. Both combined were enough to need sunglasses for prolonged periods, surely.

-... .. --. / -... .- .-.. -.-. --- -. -.-- / .. -. / -. . .-- / .-- .. -. --. !

He repeated the message a few times, just to be sure. Alya’s light had shut off, and after a repeat or so she seemed to have gone back inside, presumably to the balcony to go warn Kim.

“So, what’s going on?” Markov asked, flitting back over.

“Emperor Gabriel has arrived at school and is searching for Kim,” Max said. “I can’t let anything happen to him. No – I won’t let anything happen to him. We’ve all had enough of this. I’m going to the balcony to find him.”

He started heading towards the door at top speed. Adrenaline was rushing through him, more than ever before – he would do absolutely anything to protect Kim, anything. There was no way he’d let Gabriel do anything to hurt him. Not after everything they’d all been through. He loved Kim too much to not be there to protect him when he needed it.

“We’re coming with you!”

Alix and Markov zoomed over to join him, to his relief. He knew it was reckless to go face a ruthless emperor all alone, if that was what was going to happen. But whenever Kim was involved, everything he ever did seemed reckless, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“What are we even going to do?” Max mused.

“I could fist-fight Gabriel with my bare hands,” Alix suggested. “Or get my snake to bite him. Or something.”

“Well hopefully we won’t have to face him at all, and we’ll get to Kim before he does. Or perhaps Alya will get there first. And then we have to find a way to get Kim out of here…”

But even as he said it, his heart was sinking. They could help Kim escape, but then what? If Gabriel had been determined enough to come to this school, despite the fact that the Bourgeois Empire was no longer accepting of him, then where would he stop? Would he ever give up?

Surely there had to be a better way to end things.

-

-

-

Kim stood at the edge of the balcony, his hood up to protect his hair, holding his phone in his hands and seeing if he would get any signal here. Surely there had to be somewhere at this school he could make a phone call from! He hadn’t spoken to Kagami in ages, and he’d promised he would call Ondine, and he wanted to see if the telecommunication lines to his country were working again so he could talk to his grandmother…

Well, if he wasn’t getting signal here, out on the very edge of the school, then he wouldn’t get it anywhere. Resigned, he put his phone back in his pocket and leaned on the balcony railings, looking over the edge. The “moat” was flooded, turbulent, and more dangerous than he had ever seen it. Even Ondine wouldn’t be able to swim through something like that. And the more it rained, the worse it got.

Bad weather, no electricity, hardly anyone here… Kim was already in a sour mood, and he’d only been here for a day. At least it couldn’t get any worse.

“Prince Kim – I have found you at last.”

Oh, apparently it could get worse. That deep voice sounded like it was probably a teacher or some annoying official or something, and he didn’t even want to know how he could possibly already be in trouble. He sighed and turned around – only for his heart to suddenly drop.

That was… no, surely it couldn’t be. No way.

But Kim had seen plenty of portraits, adorning the walls of the school before being taken off, painted into history books, even occasional black-and-white photographs. Kim knew what Emperor Gabriel of Agreste looked like.

And this guy, standing in front of him, just far enough away to be under the roof of the school and out of the rain… that was him.

Kim had no idea what to say. Part of him was convinced he was dreaming. Was Gabriel really here? At this school? Right now? Maybe it was, like… an imposter or something? But he had on that Agreste military outfit that Adrien used to wear when he first started at school, and all those medals and badges, and he was so tall and terrifying that even Kim, as fearless as he tried to be, had a chill run through him.

What to say? What to say?

“Uh… hey.”

He was hit with the immediate urge to smack himself in the head. To think that finally he was face to face with the person who’d been making his life hell for the past few years, and that was all he could say?! Hey?!

Gabriel ignored it anyway. “I believe you know who I am, despite addressing me incorrectly.”

Kim just nodded.

“Good. And I believe you know why I am here, too.”

That part hadn’t quite hit Kim yet, but now it did. Gabriel was the one who had sent those poisoned chocolates, the one who had probably arranged the death of his grandfather, the one who had sent troops to invade his kingdom and pillage the borders. Gabriel was here to kill him.

His knees felt weak.

“I am here to negotiate the terms of your surrender,” Gabriel continued. “Your kingdom is weak, and if you want it to prosper, it would be better to have in the hands of an experienced leader. Agree to pass over your rulership to me, and I will not harm you.”

Oh, so he wasn’t going to kill him? For a second Kim was relieved – until he remembered that Gabriel had already tried to have him killed in the past. Someone like that was not to be trusted.

“No offence, but I don’t wanna give my country to you,” Kim said. “Sorry.”

Unexpectedly, Gabriel smiled. “I understand. Someone like you needs better terms, such as a challenge. So let me put it that way. I challenge you to a mortal sword duel. If I win, your country will become part of my empire. If you win, you keep your country. The loser will not live to see the result either way.”

“A… a duel to the death?”

“Yes. I hear you never turn down a challenge. You won’t start now, will you?”

Well of course Kim didn’t turn down challenges, but usually those challenges were things like tennis matches or rollerskate races! Not fatal duels with high stakes against a trained military commander.

“What will you do if I do turn down your challenge?” he asked.

“If you do, it will prove you unworthy to be a true leader, in which I must take matters into my own hands and take your country by force. If that includes your demise, well… that’s just unlucky for you.”

Kim gulped, aware of the sword hanging in the sheath on Gabriel’s belt, the rickety chandelier in the room ahead, and the deadly river waiting below. Dying here would be just too easy.

In his first year he had challenged Adrien to a duel over something similar, hadn’t he? Not a duel to the death, of course, but still. It was to do with a weakened kingdom fighting back against a cruel empire. Adrien had managed to dissuade him from that. Surely Adrien’s father must have some good in him too, enough to convince him to stop all this?

“We don’t have to fight,” Kim said, internally cringing at how lame and cliché that sounded. “We could like… have a meeting or something.”

“There have been negotiations between our two domains, and they achieved nothing. It is clear that Lê Chiến and Agreste want different things. If it cannot be sorted out peacefully, then there is only one way to settle it.”

“But what about the International Alliance?” Kim asked quickly, noticing with alarm that Gabriel’s hand was already going to the hilt of his sword. “My country is part of that now, so they’d be really annoyed if you took over.”

“Defectors from the crumbling end of the Bourgeois regime are joining my ranks as we speak. Even the International Alliance cannot compare to my vast military, and they don’t even know it. I will be able to defend my territory, don’t you worry about that. I’ve worked too hard to let them stop me now. And in any case, with no witnesses around, no one will know if the untimely end of the prince of Lê Chiến was an accident or not…”

Kim shivered, and not from the cold – it couldn’t end like this. Were there any guards around? Usually they would be taking rounds of the school, but what with Chloé cutting the budget, perhaps there weren’t enough left to be patrolling this area. Gabriel really had him cornered.

“I can’t accept the duel ‘cause I don’t even have a sword anyway,” Kim said, wondering if stalling him long enough would change his mind, or at least that someone else might turn up by chance and help him out.

“This school has plenty of swords that you could be lent, I’m sure. Though I’d thought better of you. From what I’ve heard, Prince Kim is fearless and never shies away from challenges, no matter what. In reality, you are a coward.”

“No I’m not!”

“Then prove it.”

Gabriel pulled out the sword and stepped out into the rain, ready. He was purposely trying to goad Kim into accepting his challenge, wasn’t he? That way any tragic death could be attributed to a completely willing duel, and any consequences for the murder could be avoided. But the truth of it was, Kim knew he would die either way. There was no route to survival now – except stalling.

“First of all,” Kim said, trying to sound as smart and logical as Max always did, “there’s different kinds of bravery. It’s not all about fighting and physical strength and stuff! I used to think it was, but I was wrong. Standing up for what’s right counts as being brave too. So you, an evil emperor guy, challenging me, an innocent little prince, to a sword duel to the death, is way less brave than me refusing it. Just saying.”

“With friends like you, it’s no wonder my son became the way he did. Only the weak talk like you do, in order to make yourselves feel better for not having my kind of strength.”

Gabriel was advancing slowly now, and Kim was already backed up against the balcony railing with nowhere else to go. He had to keep stalling.

“Second of all, I’m not the idiot kid I used to be. I used to be a jerk who picked on people ‘cause I thought it was fun, and didn’t think before doing anything. But I’m not like that anymore. Adrien helped, actually. I even asked him out once since he’s really cute and–”

“Yes, he already informed me just now, thank you.”

“Wait, when? Is… is he here? At the school?” Kim’s spirits lifted from the deep pit they had settled into.

“He is indeed.”

“Well then, there’s no way you’re gonna win and take my country! He said he was gonna come back to stop you. And my friend Marinette too, she wants to stop you as well. So you’ll lose, no matter what. I trust them to team up and take you down.”

He very carefully mentioned nothing about their superpowers. If Gabriel did not know about that yet, that was better. In any case, Kim was not lying – he did trust Marinette and Adrien. No one else had stronger powers than them.

“You are incredibly naïve,” Gabriel said. “I will always win, and I have a way to make sure of it.”

Sword still in one hand, with the other he pulled a little bottle out of one of his many pockets. It seemed to have some kind of little purple insect in it.

“See this little butterfly? It is a special animal, one that gives the carrier magnificent powers.”

He put the bottle back in his pocket. Kim’s spirits were sinking again, dread washing over him – that butterfly was Gabriel’s guardian animal? And he had superpowers too?

“Perhaps you are educated enough to have heard of the butterfly effect,” Gabriel said now. “I can use it to ensure that no matter what, I will get my way. There will always be an outcome where I am victorious. I can split the very universe itself, again and again, until I get my way. I have done it before, and I can do it again. For every universe in which I lose, there will be one in which I win. If my son and his friend try to stop me, I will simply split apart the universes, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

So it was him. Gabriel was the one with the power to split timelines, the one causing all the messes in the first place, the one ruining everything. And judging by what he was saying, he was about to do it again.

In one timeline you will be able to go home this summer, and in the other you won’t. At present it is impossible for me to tell you which one you will end up in.

Fu had been right…

“So it’s your fault,” Kim said, so many emotions flooding him he wasn’t even sure what to do. “It’s thanks to you that in one timeline Max got poisoned by those chocolates you sent, or that Alix and Adrien are commoners, or that Alix got bitten by a venomous snake…”

“I don’t know the specific details. And in any case, those things are all your faults. I merely changed the circumstances in which your lives happened. Anything that occurred was a result of your decisions. Clearly, those decisions were bad.”

“Personally I think sending poisoned chocolates halfway across the world to kill a kid you’ve never even met is a much worse decision, but whatever.”

Gabriel sighed. “I tire of this pointless talk. Considering you will soon be no longer, I’m merely allowing you some amusement. But enough of that.”

He pointed his sword directly at Kim, taking another step forwards, far too close for comfort now.

“If it’s any reassurance, I’ll make it relatively painless.”

Oh yes, because being run through with a sword was painless, of course…

“And I will take good care of your country. Well, soon it will be my country. Your torment and eternal futile evasion will be no more. So close your eyes, Prince Kim, and say your prayers. This is the end of the line.”

Kim’s survival instincts were kicking in at full force – it couldn’t end like this! There was no way Gabriel could win, not after he’d worked so hard to stop him! What could he do? Grab the sword blade with his bare hand? But no, Gabriel wasn’t scared of him, and he didn’t have a venomous pet to back him up… Carry on talking? No, Gabriel was tired of that… Jump into the river? If he did that, he’d die for sure!

There was nothing for it. He just had to hope that something was going to happen, that by some miracle someone would save him, that somehow he would live to see another day – and see his grandmother again, and Max, and Alix, and everyone else –!

-

-

Marinette, Adrien, Alya and Nino were all out of breath by the time they reached the corridor outside the big room where the balcony was located. From the other end of the corridor they saw Alix, Max, and the snake zooming towards them on a skateboard, with Markov flying alongside them.

“My father’s already got him cornered!” Adrien gasped, looking through the window of the door. “I’ll go stop him, but what if… what if I can’t use my powers on him… what if I chicken out again…”

Ignoring everyone else, Marinette went and looked through the window, concentrating hard. There had to be a way to sort this out. There always was.

Right. The room was large, with an open balcony on the far side of it stretching across most of the wall. The balcony hung over the sheer cliffside leading to the “moat” – actually, a river. The door to the room was high up near the ceiling, with a staircase leading down to the floor. A chandelier hung near the top of the staircase. The electricity was not working, other than occasional flickers, so theoretically it would not be too hot to touch, as long as one avoided the frayed open wires that had not been fixed due to the school’s limited budget.

Marinette frowned, her eyes darting across the room frantically. How could she make the setup of this room work to her advantage, and quickly? She doubted Gabriel would be kind enough to wait for her to formulate a plan before stabbing Kim and tossing his corpse in the water.

She had the powers of good luck, Adrien had the powers to cause catastrophe to anything he touched, Adrien was reluctant to cause any direct harm to his father, Gabriel and Kim were both on the balcony…

That was it!

“I have a plan, and you don’t have to cataclysm your father!”

“Cataclysm?”

“Oh – it’s a nickname I came up with for your powers! But anyway, you go in, run to the bottom stair, then use your powers to destroy the floor of the room and the balcony. Gabriel and Kim will fall, but I’ll use my luck powers to save them. Then Gabriel will see that he’s outnumbered and outmatched, and maybe surrender, or something, I haven’t thought out that part yet but we don’t have time.”

“How will you get close enough to use your powers? Are they long range?”

“I’ll jump onto the chandelier. That’ll put me close enough, and also I’ll avoid falling when the floor breaks. Sound good?”

Adrien nodded. “Well we don’t have anything else, or any time, so yes, yes – let’s go!”

-

The rain was still pouring heavily, so heavily that neither Gabriel nor Kim heard when the door opened. Marinette took a running jump off the landing, just about managing to cling onto the chandelier and pull herself up so that she was sitting on it, carefully avoiding the frayed wires just in case the electricity had a momentary spurt again.

Adrien ran down the steps two at a time. As he did so, he pushed into his mind every negative thought he had, every terrible thing his father had done to him or other people, forcing himself to actually go through with it this time. The anger of the world was coursing through his veins. The entire planet was counting on this. He couldn’t let them down! And he couldn’t let Kim die.

Reaching the bottom step, he reminded himself of things that Marinette had secretly told him, though she was not supposed to – about how Gabriel had sent poisoned chocolates to Kim, that Max had suffered that grisly fate in another timeline. He reminded himself that if he failed, more assassinations were waiting for his friends. He reminded himself of the house arrest he had suffered before his powers had surfaced, so suffocating that he had run away all by himself.

And he reminded himself that according to his oracle session in his first year, by the summer he would be free. No matter what.

With that thought in his mind, he let out a war cry and thrust his power-infused hand onto the floor.

-

Marinette, up on the chandelier, waited for the exact opportune moment. She only had one shot at this, and she had to make it count.

Adrien had used his powers on the floor, which buckled and crumbled into black dust, spreading across the room like ripples to leave nothing but a bare expanse of sloping rock beneath. Within a few seconds the destruction had reached the balcony too. It melted away to reveal the rocky outdoor ground disappearing into the steep cliffside, leading to the river far below.

Now!

Marinette focused hard, holding out her hand and using her power to a bigger extent than she had ever used it before. This was going to drain her, she could just tell – but that didn’t matter right now. What mattered was saving Kim, and the rest of the world along with him.

-

Adrien watched the floor disintegrating in front of him, heard the screech from Marinette as she put her own powers into effect. The balcony itself collapsed, and his heart leapt into his throat when he saw both his father and Kim seemingly fall – then sighed in relief. Both of them had managed to cling onto the edge of the cliffside and were still holding on for dear life. Gabriel had dropped his sword, which clattered down the rocks and disappeared into the water below.

“I can’t – I can’t hold them – hurry!”

Marinette’s voice was strained. Adrien immediately leapt off the stairs onto the rocky ground, running over towards the edge of the cliff at top speed. He heard a thunk behind him, and turned to see that Marinette had fallen off the chandelier in exhaustion.

“Marinette!”

“D-don’t worry about me… go save…”

She raised a finger to point towards the cliff edge, but then dropped it and fell unconscious. Her power really must have taken a huge toll – it had seemed impossible that anyone could fall off the balcony and still manage to hold on without ending up in the river, yet it had happened. Marinette’s lucky charm truly was miraculous.

But there was no time to think about that. Adrien turned back towards the cliffside to see that both Gabriel and Kim were slipping, without Marinette’s powers to stabilize them. Both of them held on with just one hand now. The rain was only making it worse.

Did Adrien have time to save them both before one of them fell? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t even have much energy left. Chances were, he would only be able to save one. The other was doomed.

“Adrien!” his father called out. “Son!”

He had never, ever heard such emotion in his father’s voice before. Or at least, not since before his mother had left. If he saved him now, would things be… different?

He shook himself out of it. Things wouldn’t be different at all. He was done with his father’s manipulation. He could never let it get the better of him again.

Anyway, did Gabriel ever treat him like a son? Surely it was not fatherly to lock up one’s child for having differing opinions, or trying to kill their friends. Gabriel was no father of his. Not truly.

It hurt to admit it, though, it hurt so much that Adrien just wanted to break down into tears and never have to make a difficult decision in his life ever again. With all his anger spent in his powers, all that was left was sadness. That he had to run away to find a family who loved him, that his friends had suffered, that the world could be such a cruel place.

And sadness was not what he needed right now.

He looked at Kim, his heart filling with resolve. If he did abandon his own father to fall off a cliff, he was doing it for the right reasons. To give the world a chance with better leaders, ones who didn’t conquer other countries just to take their land. To save his friend.

Yes, Kim had been a wonderful friend to him these past few years. And he deserved a chance to live, a chance to prove himself. Saving Kim was an act of friendship – something that Emperor Gabriel would never understand. And that would be his downfall.

Adrien ran over to the very edge of the cliff. Gabriel looked up at him with hopeful eyes – but he shook his head.

“Sorry, father,” he muttered. Then he leaned down and grabbed Kim’s hand.

The rescue was a blur. It was impossible to properly focus – Gabriel’s expression was haunting him, full of disbelief, betrayal. Never before had he seen his father so emotive. Never would he see it again.

And when Gabriel finally ran out of strength and let go of the cliff edge, Adrien did not watch.

He eventually managed to pull Kim up to the top with a lot of effort, despite the rain making everything slippery, and was immediately swamped in a huge hug. So many emotions were tearing his heart apart, he couldn’t even bring himself to hug Kim back, or even listen to what he was saying. As soon as Kim let go, Adrien’s remaining lifeforce failed him. He collapsed onto the ground and passed out, just as Marinette had done.

-

The others were running into the remnants of the room now, rushing down the stairs. Kim, shaken though he was, picked up Adrien and managed to carry him under the cover of the roof, laying him beside Marinette.

He had almost died – he had almost died for real.

And yes, this wasn’t the first near-death experience he’d had. But nothing else had ever come so close.

He was trembling, unable to stop himself. First Gabriel had nearly impaled him with a sword, then he had almost fallen off a cliff, and then he had been certain that Adrien was going to faint before being able to get him to safety…

And Gabriel had fallen into the river. Could he swim? Was he…?

Sitting down on the rocky ground, Kim allowed the tears to roll. Somehow, some way, he was alive.

Imperial Prince Adrien had picked him over his own father, and saved his life.

Fu had been right about the power of friendship, then, as stupid as that had sounded at the time. Fu had been right about everything.

Hands shaking too much to keep still, Kim hugged his knees to his chest and closed his eyes. It was over. Finally, it was all over.

“KIM!”

He was glomped by no less than four people, one snake, and one robot simultaneously. All of them were stating their heartfelt relief at knowing he was alright. He could hear Alya and Nino’s voices too – they were here now? He was glad for that, though right now in far too much of a state to be able to express it.

After what felt like forever, he opened his eyes. Alya and Nino were now tending to Marinette and Adrien.

“They’re still alive, don’t worry, they’re just exhausted…”

“Yeah, they must be, I saw that through the window – that was so hardcore…”

“I can’t say the same for Gabriel, though.”

“What do you think will happen to him?”

“If he’s lucky, he’ll drown quickly before the sharp rocks downstream, or he’ll survive and make it onto land… but I wouldn’t count on it, considering the state the river’s in…”

Kim noted that Max and Alix were still hugging him. He put his arms around them and pulled them closer, so grateful to still have them here with him, so relieved that things were alright, and that finally, their problems were at an end. The three of them had been through too much. Way too much.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” Max mumbled, sounding as if he was about to start crying too. “I love you.”

Kim was not sure he could reply without more tears, so he just pulled his precious sweetheart into a kiss. He had been so close to never being able to do that again. Too close.

Remembering something important, he pulled away and tried to dry his tears – though considering he was drenched from the rain, it didn’t make a difference. “Guys, I found out – well, Gabriel told me – he’s the one splitting the timelines. It’s his fault.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Max said. “It would be him, wouldn’t it? Considering that he’s caused all our other problems too.”

Still so emotionally overwhelmed, Kim managed a small chuckle. “Yeah…”

“At least we won’t have to deal with that problem any longer. The threat has gone.”

“But wait, didn’t Fu say the timelines were gonna split again before summer? What happened with that?”

He turned aside to look at Alix, only to jump in surprise when he saw that she looked far, far more murderous than he had ever seen her before – and that was really saying something, considering her volatile personality.

“They did split,” she muttered.

“Really? When? What happened?”

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “When Adrien used his powers. The timelines split, and in the other timeline there was a moth up near the chandelier, and it made Marinette sneeze, and she accidentally hit an exposed wire and got an electric shock, and she fell off and couldn’t use her powers, and y-you…”

She refused to finish, instead just curling up into a ball. She didn’t need to finish, though. Kim could easily figure out the rest.

In this timeline, he had survived and could go home for the summer. In the newly split timeline, he had fallen into the river and lost his life.

“Well… at least we’re in the good timeline,” he said, though he knew that was no consolation. He could hear Alix crying away into her arms, the snake wrapping itself around her tightly in comfort – they had seen Kim’s death with their own eyes. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it must feel – especially after having to experience all the other timeline deaths too.

But as bittersweet as it was, there was one important silver lining.

Gabriel was gone.

Even in the other timeline, if Kim had fallen into the river, Gabriel would have too. It didn’t matter that Kim was not alive, because Gabriel was not either – the rest of the world would be okay. His country would be fine. Adrien would become the new emperor of Agreste, and no one would have to suffer anymore.

And that… that was what really mattered.

[elitaxne]

┊❛ SHUFFLING THE DECK ❜

♖. }

       The news of a death was never easy to hear and accept, especially that of a colleague, moreso considering how SUDDEN it had been. Elder members of the Council had their days numbered, regrettably so did he, such was the continuous cycle: creation, life, death, rebirth. Over and over it repeated, already he had lived many lifetimes throughout the expanse of the universe just as every other mecha, just as their Prime --- if the rumours were to be believed.

                           Optimus: the reincarnation of the Thirteenth Original Prime.

Blasphemy to draw such a disgraceful comparison... then again, it was the Thirteenth Prime who had betrayed the other Primes, who had so foolishly offered themselves to the Well and relinquished their power to become what? Cybertronian. Even the Prime’s had their downfalls, and in that aspect Optimus certainly had held up to that image.

As did his bondmate --- if the rumours were to be believed. Another relinquishing of power to a pretty face with a mind more clever than the devil, and twice as power-consumed. Perhaps Optimus really was the Thirteenth in another life after all, some misfortunes were far too natural to be coincidental.

The passing of the Fourth Chair had been painless ( they were assured ), an illness that came with an aged spark had struck late in the evening, taking the mech in his sleep. There were worse ways to go after all... It was odd however that he had showed no outward signs of sickness, then again, he had always been a stubborn mech --- to show any signs of weakness would force Elita’s hand in replacement; the wait was expected, respected, and finally had come to a close.

Try as she might he was next in line as successor for the Fourth seat --- Councillor of the boundary that housed their beloved Iacon no less. It had been their agreement, one forged before the war tore their planet to ruin, and one that was to be honoured long after it had begun rebuilding.

Primus, he could feel the fuchsia femme’s dissatisfaction spilling through her EM Field as she made her way towards him, all of Cybertron’s politicans gathered in the ornate hearing chambers for the ceremony. The cold glint in her optics made him smile, her naming of the Council had cost him his bench place --- but no more; a mere roadbump that only briefly intervened on the inevitable. His place would always be as a High Councillor, and no one --- no she or the Prime --- would EVER take that away from him.

As one of the original Councillors it was his right, his DUTY, to serve on the bench.

Neon optics flicker over slender features draped in translucent crystalline garments, hugging curves and cascading smooth plating with shimmers like starlight. Its brilliance rivalled only that of his own, wearing Iacon’s traditional colouring of GOLD, embellished with crystals more expensive than the tower where her and the Prime lived. Off-world jewels from the Golden Age, valuable and rare, only the finest of garments for an Induction Ceremony.

                                                 HIS Induction Ceremony.

All optics in the grand inner sanctum of the Council Towers --- and camera lenses projecting the live recording to every screen across Cybertron would capture this shift in history. Marking the day that would set him back on the course of recalmation, that was his internal promise to his colleagues who peered down from their prospective seats with small nods; it was simply all a matter of time.

Golden screens opened the visual text of the Code, held by one of the few remaining historical keepers in surprisingly steady servos, as he placed his own over the words. Councillor Elita stood at the side for the preceding, sceptre and staff --- representations of power and peace ( a tradition that carried from the Golden Age surprisingly enough ) held in her slender digits.

Merga repeated the recited text with perfect diction and clarity, quoting the required lines and oaths, promises of integrity, of justice, of mercy, of truth, and speaking in the native tongue that had nearly been eradicated along with the war. True Iaconian dialect, Primus it felt good to let the familiar words fall freely from his vocoder after having to utilize Neo-Cybex as per mandate.

The historian stepped back in place to the side, job now to record the new assigning of power as the Head Councillor came to stand before him. Cool, icy cerulean peered into steely neon hues intently, the silent conversation passing between the both of them nothing but cordial, yet the camera’s would never know such. Neon flicker up to the rest of the Council each at their places on the bench, with the Matrixbearer at the centre, his optics downcast and never wavering from that of the older mech. Good.

❝ Kneel, ❞ she prompted per her script, calm and collected despite the entire procession being a blow to her pride.

He commended her for keeping her emotions so intact, years of creating tall walls and allowing a spark casing to freeze had done wonders for the once fiery, passionate femme. Merga could still remember the day as though it were yesterday when he personally knocked her three pegs off her pedestal --- Zeta’s prideful appointing, who would go on to be named a potential successor. How funny life works, having to watch the honour of Prime slip through ones capable digits to that of a pious Archivist. No matter, Optimus had wound himself around those very digits all the same --- and even carried the Matrix in her stead like a well-trained lap dog. And there were those who said she had lost her ferocity... he disagreed.

The old mech lowered gracefully on a knee joint, helm bowing if only to fulfil the visual standard set by tradition. Gold glimmers of the staff and septre draw close as she crosses them to rest upon each shoulder pauldron respectively, dull thuds from the movements echoing in the opulent hall for all of Cybetron to hear.

Elita began softly, smoothly, yet no less strongly. All of Cybertron and beyond may well be watching, one of the largest audiences ever to bear witness so formally. Even upon first naming the Council years ago there hadn’t been enough mecha for such an elaborate ceremony, the proceedings were a testament to how far Cybetron had come. It was about all she could take solace in at the moment.

❝ In the sight of Primus light, at the Hall of the Council, you have been summoned in the wake of great tragedy. Per the succession of the respected Councillor the burden and title of their legacy has been named to pass to your shoulders. If for any reason you are unable to fulfil your duties and uphold the sworn vows as taken in the presence of your peers, another will be chosen by Energon or mandate in accordance to the Law. Do you accept the honour and privilege upon which you have spoken your oath? ❞

Merga replied with the scripted response, ❝ I do, with all my spark, Primus as my witness. ❞

Elita continued, ❝ Do you swear to serve with integrity, justice, nobility, and EQUALITY, to the best and beyond your abilities, in accordance to the four pillars of the Council, so sworn by Primus? ❞

Merga eyed her at the certain INFLECTION at a particular word, corners of his mouth tugging in to a hint of a grin. Glitch. ❝ I do, with all my spark, Primus as my witness. ❞

Smooth alto continued after a pause, the final phrase that would complete the ceremony, already it tasted like bitter poison on Elita’s glossa while she spoke. ❝ Noble Merga of Iacon, First of his name, Senator of the Fourth boundary, Named Successor of Councillor Volux --- in the witness of Optimus, Last of the Primes, the High Council, Senators, Chancellors, Cybertron, and her encompassing sistering colonies, as vested by the servos of the First Chair and in her power, you are hereby named High Councillor, Honourable Keeper of the Fourth Seat. You may rise. ❞

As Merga came to stand thunderous applause echoed around him, neon optics shining in the warm amber hues of sunlight streaming in tall wall-length windows behind the Council. The roar of frames coming to stand in their seats per tradition joined the applause, finding only a handful of servos that kept their appreciation to a minimum: the Prime, the Head Councillor, and half the bench. Today was but the first day that would spark change, Cybertron would return to its Golden Age --- that he swore with all his spark.