#it is 18 pages on word

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Of Truths & Dreams; Malleus Draconia

Dreams can tell you a lot about a person. Their wants, their fears. But sometimes they can tell you the truth, and sometimes it isn't pretty.

Supporting Characters; Lilia Vanrouge & Malenoa Draconia

Content; Soulmate AU (I call them soul matches), gender-neutral reader, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic, Chapter 7 spoilers, canon divergence, hurt/comfort

Content Warnings; Chapter 7 spoilers, overblot stuff, swearing

Word Count; 5 K

Don't put my work into AI, I will hunt you for sport.

Prologue & Lilia's Story | Sebek's Story

Malleus was born into this world alone. His mother, dead, and his father, missing. It was a miracle that he even hatched, as Draconia eggs required love to hatch. And his grandmother was ridden with grief, over losing her only child. It was no wonder why he was delayed by several centuries. And despite everything, he hatched. But despite his hatching, the love and adoration that people gave him, he was alone. Malleus didn’t feel loved, not in the way that mattered.

His subjects, his guards, his teachers, even his own grandmother loved the idea of him. And he was raised away from the outside world, within the dark halls of Briar Castle. Malleus was an idea, and the hope for the future rather than his own person. It was a lot for a child to handle. So, of course, he would sneak out when he thought no one was looking. The guards would realize rather quickly that the sole heir to Briar Valley, their most treasured royal, was missing. But Malleus didn’t care.

“Good evening,” he greeted the raven gargoyle that was at the westernmost turret of the outside wall. Malleus looked in the direction that the raven did, looking out into the moors. A dense fog had rolled in, covering everything in a white haze. “Do you ever wonder what’s out there?”

He knew that the stone wouldn’t answer him, but he asked anyways. “Grandmother tells me stories you know,” he sighed, taking a seat in one of the carved-out alcoves in the ancient stone. “That Briar Valley will one day be mine to keep. But I cannot rule without a soul match.”

Soul matches were quintessential for the Draconias, after all, it was their own ancestor the Thorn Fairy, who had gifted the fae the blessing. But Malleus had yet to find any trace of them in his dreams. Typically, members of his family were born with their soul match already in their dreams, but Malleus had yet to meet them, his dreams still being black and white, and no blurry stranger to speak of in sight. It was distressing, and he heard the whispered concerns of his grandmother when she thought he was in bed.

And those whispers played in his head. “Is there something the matter with me?” All the young prince got for an answer though was the distant cawing of ravens, and the approaching sounds of footsteps. “Did I do something wrong?”

It felt like he did something wrong. Why else would the Thorn Fairy withhold his birthright to a soul match? Why would she punish him? Had he already not been punished enough?

“So that’s where you were hiding,” the familiar voice of Lilia pulled Malleus from his thoughts. “Come now, young prince, you can’t hide away forever.” Lilia offered his hand for the young boy to take. 

Malleus looked at his outstretched hand to his face, and placed his hand in Lilia’s. “Did I upset everyone again?” His voice was quiet as the two of them walked hand and hand down the uneven steps of the turret’s staircase.

Lilia hummed, “Upset? No. Worry? A little bit.” He was used to barking out orders in the battlefield, not looking after children, let alone one so precious to the Valley. But Lilia felt that he needed to, for both his Queen, and the late princess. He had a duty to keep, an oath that he lived by; to protect the royal line.

Malleus frowned, giving the moors a final look before he and his keeper descended into the heart of the castle. “I just wanted to find them.”

“And you will,” Lilia gave the prince a practised smile, as it was still something he was getting used to. “It may just take some time is all.”

“But mother and grandmother both were born with their soul matches already in their dreams. Why is mine not with me now?” Malleus was starting to spit a bit of fire, clearly becoming upset with his own frustration. “Why must they keep me waiting?”

Lilia took a knee, and gently placed his hands on Malleus’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “Good things come to those who wait. It must mean that the Thorn Fairy is taking her time in finding the best match for you.” Lilia’s eyes searched Malleus’s and he propped himself back up. “So since it is taking a while, they must be very special.”

Malleus was still upset, but that put him at ease. Good things come to those who wait. So the longer he had to wait, the better his soul match should be, and that put his turbulent mind at ease… for now.

…

…

Malleus was standing in the thick fog of the moors. And it was deathly silent, not even the crickets or the throaty calls of frogs filled in the silent din. “Another dream,” he sighed to himself. 

Of course it was a dream, which was obvious due to everything being in various shades of grey, white, and black, but also because he wasn’t allowed past the castle’s outer walls without someone else accompanying him.

“Why have you brought me here,” Malleus quietly asked the fog.

It is said that the Thorn Fairy lived in the moors, that she protected the moors. She put up an impenetrable wall of thorns, to protect her people from those who wished to destroy them. But the moors remained silent, and barren of colour or life. Malleus hummed to himself the lullaby that his grandmother sang to him while he was still a baby, and still in his egg. He has heard this song over the centuries as he lay dormant. Permanently etched into the deepest recesses of his mind. The lullaby was crafted solely for the fae to learn of soul matches.

Malleus stopped humming. He hadn’t met them yet, so it didn’t feel right to hum the original lyrics. “I’ll know you. I will walk with you once upon a dream,” he sang slowly, walking to nowhere in particular, the fog moving gently with his movements. “I’ll know you, that look in your eyes will be so a familiar a gleam.” 

He started dancing by himself, making the fog swirl around him. “And I know it’s true that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I’ll know you, I know what you’ll do.” Malleus made one large twirl, and all the emotions he had were summoned as fire, setting the dry grass of the moors ablaze, yet he was untouched as his dream was slowly being reduced to ashes.

“You’ll love me at once,” he whispered quietly, “the way you did once upon a dream.” Smoke filled the air, and where there was once light, white fog, there was now heavy, black smoke.

It was simply a dream though, nothing more. But dreams reveal truths, even if we don’t want to confront them.

…

…

…

Malleus had missed the entrance ceremony… again, at least Lilia was all over it, but it still rubbed Malleus in all of the wrong ways. But was it really his fault? He had never received an invitation… due to his electronics acting up again due to his own magic, so maybe it was his fault. Maybe next year! … Oh right, he would be a fourth year and not studying within the confines of Night Raven College, so in actuality, there was no next year.

At least there was a familiar face that was new to the dorm, and Sebek was overjoyed and followed Malleus dutifully. But that didn’t really change his own inner turmoil; he is next in line to be king, and yet he wasn’t able to attend something as simple as an annual recurring event? It troubled him, even as he was preparing himself for bed, adjusting his custom pillow just so.

I just wish I were invited? A proper letter. He mused in his own head, before finding himself back in the moors. It was always the moors. By this point he had traversed the entirety of it, and seen everything it had to offer, all of its little secrets. Not hard when he’s had nearly a century of time to do so.

He started humming his version of the lullaby, as he mindlessly floated along a path that he had made with his own footsteps, well trodden. Good things come to those who wait. That’s what he’s told himself, night after night. That’s what he told himself every morning when he woke up. He was getting tired of waiting. He was supposed to have been born with his soul match already in his dreams, but no one had ever appeared in Malleus’s dreams. He was always alone in the moors, with not even animals to keep him company. He was not only isolated in his waking world, the real world, but he was also isolated in his dreams.

Malleus was all alone, he had been alone for a while. Yes, he may have guards, and loyal servants, but above all else, they saw him as their next king, not Malleus; they didn’t see him for him. So maybe it was fitting that he didn’t have a soul match either. Maybe the Thorn Fairy wanted him alone.

Right as those feelings surfaced though, his dream changed. Malleus was very much still in the moors, but the silence was gone. The soft chirping of crickets filled the void. There was life, and it was all at once. The fog was still there, but Malleus could also see the faint lights of fireflies, glowing softly. This, this was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The once still moor was now gently rustling, breathing.

In front of him, the fog became dense, and a figure slowly emerged from it, looking around in a confused state. But they then turned their full attention to Malleus, and everything became saturated in violet.

Good things come to those who wait. They were here, they were finally here. Malleus was finally not alone.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he greeted with a slight bow of his head. He did not know who they were, did not know of their upbringing or social status, but none of that mattered. They were his soul match, which usurped everything else. 

He watched curiously as his words floated in front of him, a harsh, neon green. His soul match did the same, watching as the words faded away.

“Uh, nice to meet you too?” Their words, your words, floated in front of Malleus, the same shade of green as his. “Who are you? Where am I?”

Malleus hummed, intrigued by their reaction. Perhaps they were not taught of soul match bonds, which would be understandable, as not all families knew of the bonds the Thorn Fairy had gifted them. “I will explain all in time, for now though, let us walk together, and enjoy this moment. Shall we?”

He extended his hand, waiting for you to take it, but right as your hands were about to meet, your form turned back into mist, leaving Malleus alone yet again in his dream. “Hmm, they must have woken up suddenly… perhaps tomorrow night then…” He murmured to himself, and continued down his footpath, watching the fireflies blink in the distance.

…

…

That was a weird ass dream, and you were kinda thankful that Grim had rudely woken you up. Kinda being the key word. And you couldn’t really get back to sleep, instead just staring up at the decaying ceiling above you, just wishing that you could go back to sleep. But what was up with the formal-speaking stranger? Why were you in some sort of swamp? Why was everything purple? And why were your words floating in front of you and a bright ass neon green? It was only your first night too… maybe this was just your brain coming up with weird scenarios to distract you from the weirdness you experience while awake? Maybe some inter-dimensional travel side effects? Like some form of jet lag that messed with your dreams? Sure, let’s pin it on that.

“Ughhhh, I hate it here,” you groaned. It would be a few hours before classes even began, so you had plenty of time for utter boredom, how fun. At least you had borrowed some books from the library, a mix of general information — since that ‘headmage’ hadn’t given you a proper welcome or a lowdown on how this world functioned — and just some interesting looking cover. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Sure, but when the book was a deep violet leather-bound book, with green metallic filigree? How could you not be curious about it? It was stunning.

“Of Truths and Dreams,” you whispered to yourself, that was the title of the book, the font in the style of calligraphy from medieval texts. How old was it? Were you actually allowed to touch it, let alone read it? It looked like it belonged in a museum.

You carefully undid the metal clasp, in the shape of a dragon’s claw. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. And you began reading.

Dreams can reveal much about a person; their wants, their fears, their memories. Dreams also hold power, and such power has been bestowed to the Draconia family. And this power comes from our ancestor, the Thorn Fairy.

You snapped the book shut. This wasn’t just a book, it was a diary. You shouldn’t be reading this… but this was a chance to learn more about this world. Learn about it from… You open up the diary again, and find the owner’s name written in the same calligraphy as the title. Maleficia Draconia. 

-

As with all fae, our family too is blessed with soul matches who enter our dreams as we sleep. Our family is different though, as we are born with them already in our minds; our dreams tinted in a colour that represents both of us. They are of utmost importance to us. Without them, we cannot rule. They may become an advisor, a confidant, and in some cases, a lover. That is for both parties to decide though, we cannot use our power or status to influence their decision, no matter how we feel about them, Malenoa. Do not let our draconic greed dictate the relationship. It surfaces as a song. I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam. And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom what they seem. But if I know you, I’ll know what you’ll do. You’ll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream. Ignore that song, my love, for that is the greed speaking, and not the truth. Ignore it at all costs, for it will stain the heart…

The rest of the diary was left blank, the edges of the paper charred. Turning it back over, you noticed that the entire back of the book was blackened, blackened by fire. And even though you didn’t know who Maleficia was, she had helped you a great lot. Whatever that dream was, that was no ordinary stranger. They were your… soul match? Yeah, whatever that meant.

…

…

Malleus found himself walking outside of his old haunting grounds, Ramshackle dorm. He was surprised to find it now occupied, but his sadness had morphed into something far more pleasant. He had gained a friend. He had gained you.

“Good evening, Child of Man,” he greeted you, taking notice of the large yawn that escaped your mouth. “More tired than usual I see. You do not need to walk with me tonight if rest is what you need.”

Malleus meant well, in his own odd and formal way. “Eh, it’s nothing, Tsunotarou. I’ll get some shut eye in a bit,” you waved off his concern, and shot him a small smile.

He gave you back a tiny smile, remembering the last time that he gave someone a full smile, they were left scared, not happy. He didn’t want to scare you off. That’s why he let you decide on a nickname for him, that but also names hold power… but he trusted you, he just didn’t know how to bring it up. He didn’t want your friendship to change just because you found out he was the Malleus Draconia, but he also knew that you wouldn’t really care. You didn’t seem like the type to treat him any differently just because of his title. He didn’t want to risk it though.

So the two of you walked around the outskirts of Ramshackle, fireflies lighting the way. Something about them felt familiar though, and it wasn’t from just your nightly walks with your horned friend. You could have sworn you saw them in a dream… now wasn’t the time for that, now was the time to enjoy what time you could get with your friend.

“Hey, Tsunotarou,” you asked him, turning a bit so you faced him. “Do you have a soul match?”

Malleus’s pupils dilated outwards, becoming more rounded rather than harsh slits. “Yes I do, Child of Man. I am rather surprised that you know of the subject,” he breathed out. You really were full of surprises, weren’t you?

Surprised? “How so?”

Malleus hummed to himself, a melody that sounded familiar, but it evaded you. “The bonds of soul matches of fae are only known by fae, which is why I was caught by surprise of you knowing of the term. That is all.” Do you have one, Child of Man? But why does the thought make my tongue go bitter?

“Found it in a book in the library,” you mused. You mentally kicked yourself, you could have given it to him, he may know the family of the previous owner. Maybe you could go hunting for it the next time you found yourself in the cramped halls of the library. A rather large yawn escaped from you, and that was your, and Malleus’s, queue that it was time for you to head off to the land of dreams. “Any who, night, Tsunotarou! Sweet dreams!” You waved him goodbye as he vanished into a puff of fireflies, off into the night.

…

…

And they were both asleep again, but something felt off. Like there was something dark tainting the dream. It was a familiar sensation, one that made the hairs on your neck stand on end; blot. There was blot in the dream.

“Are you alright,” you asked your soul match, carefully watching their reaction.

They hummed, and turned to look at you curiously, green eyes practically glowing in the dark violet lighting, pupils relaxing from their tight slits into more relaxed ovals. “I am alright, just thinking is all,” their words floated in front of them, still the neon green they were in the beginning.

But the alarm bells were screaming in your head. Screaming at you that everything was definitely not alright. This, this was being calculated, being considered. “You just seem preoccupied… like your mind is elsewhere is all.”

They tilted their head, “I am right here with you.” Their words were blunt, as they typically were. “However,” the lighting darkened, being tainted with more hints of blot, “are you planning on going anywhere?” Are you planning on leaving me, like everyone else?

The words hang heavily in the air. It was no use lying to them, as it would only worsen the situation to lie. “Eventually I have to… I have to go back,” you said carefully, gauging their reaction.

Malleus’s pupils turned into slits again, but he remained calm on the outside. “Go back to what? Do you not like it here?” Do you not like me?

You looked around the bog, “That’s not the case. I have responsibilities back home. I need to go back. I’m …” Sorry. But the word didn’t come out of your mouth. What did you have to apologise for? It was not your fault that you came here, but why did it feel like it?

“I too have responsibilities,” Malleus said quietly, words barely visible. “You cannot go back.” All of the pleasantries were gone, this was a command. “You are staying here with me.”

The blot thickened. Could someone overblot in their dreams? And they started singing, and it was the tune that they’ve been humming since their first shared dream.

“I know you, that look in your eye is so familiar a gleam,” they cupped your face, looking softly into your eyes. “And I know it’s true, that visions are seldom all they seem. But if I know you, I know what you’ll do…” The violet lighting of the dream had turned almost black, the only lighting being the neon green words dancing around you. “You’ll love me at once, they way you did once-”

You shot up awake, heart beating so fast that you could feel and hear it. You didn’t need your soul match to finish the lyric, for you knew it already… for you had read it in that fire-charred diary. “… upon a dream,” you breathed out.

Your soul match is Malleus Draconia, Tsunotarou, and this was bad. The greed had taken over… alongside the blot. 

…

…

Malleus looked over the forms of his sleeping classmates, singing the lullaby again. He could see everybody’s dreams, except for yours, and it was equally as annoying as it was endearing. Of course his Child of Man would be filled with surprises. Malleus only wished that his soul match was here, for he wished to see their deepest desires, to see how they would be the hero of their own tale. But when he closed his eyes, and tried to teleport to their dreams, he saw nothing. It distressed him too, he knew they were asleep, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Where are you,” he chuckled darkly, a mix of anger but also fear. He should be able to see them, but he saw nothing, nothing except for the moors now engulfed in ink. Devoid of colour and life. 

Soul match bonds cannot break, at least not easily. Either they were no longer of this world — which they were not, Malleus could sense that much — or they were underneath a sleeping spell, a Draconia’s sleeping spell.

It meant that they were on the island. They have been so close this entire time. “Now, wherever could you be hiding,” Malleus sighed, looking into every single person’s dreams, looking for his soul match. Their dream should be tinted violet, singling them out to him. And as Malleus hopped from dream to dream, not once did he find the familiar colour. But they were here… he just couldn’t see them. He couldn’t see their dreams.

That left one option. There was only one person who he couldn’t see the dreams of. “You are full of surprises, aren’t you,” he floated over to your sleeping form, coming to sit next to you with a fond look in his eyes, “my dear Child of Man.” And he started humming that song of his, trying to pry into your mind, trying to get back into your dreams, where he could keep a diligent eye on you. “Looks like we have indeed met once upon a dream… that must be why your eyes are so familiar a gleam.”

…

“Yeah, this, this is beyond bad,” you muttered to yourself. You were back in the swamp, up to your chest in thick ink. The once pleasant dream was now, effectively, a trap; a giant glue trap if you will. 

A boom of thunder overhead underscored your statement and brilliant flashes of bright purple and green lightning provided the only light for you, everything else was shrouded in darkness caused by the blot. Caused by Malleus. But why, why did he overblot?

“They found a way for me to go back home.” Oh. You're leaving, and add onto that, Lilia coming out from nowhere and saying that he was also leaving because his magic had dried out… That’s why.

“TSUNOTAROU!” You yelled out into the swamp, but all you got as an answer was your own voice causing ripples in the ink. “TSUNOTAROU?!” You tried again. Nothing.

Names hold power, Child of Man, do remember that. You took in a deep breath, steeling yourself for when he manifested himself here. “MALLEUS DRACONIA?!”

A bolt of lightning hit a few metres in front of you, morphing into bright green fire, and then Malleus was standing in front of you, or rather, a part of him. “You called?”  He glided easily over the ink, and looked down at you, assessing you.

“What have you done, Malleus,” you refused to tilt your head upwards, instead looking up with your eyes, head remaining level.

Malleus knelt down in front of you, despite him being vastly stronger and of higher status, he still viewed you as his equal. “I did what needed to be done.” He said it so matter of factly, like it made perfect sense. “Now everyone will be happy.”

“You can’t force people to be happy,” you said back, looking into his eyes, searching for the Malleus you knew, searching for your friend. “That’s not for you to decide, Malleus.” 

Malleus just hummed at your comment, and he tried to change your dream to something more pleasant, but you remained stuck in the ink. Why can I not change it? I should be able to change it. “They deserve to be happy… You deserve to be happy. Do you not?”

I mean, yeah it would be nice, but I would rather it be because of something other than an overblot, but ya know how it is. “Yes, but not like this… Let me help you, Malleus.”

“I do not need help,” he hissed, tilting your chin up. “Let me make you happy.” 

The ink rose, and it was now up to your neck, and you were floating in it. You spared a quick glance down and saw a gentle lilac light shining down from the bottom. This may just be a crazy idea, but it was one worth taking.

You looked back into Malleus’s eyes. “Do you promise?”

Malleus smiled at you, “Of course I do.”

You grabbed him by the arm and pulled the both of you under the surface of the ink, making your eye towards the lilac light.

…

You crawled out of the ink and found yourself, and Malleus, on the outside walls of a grand castle, roses vining their way up the facade in full bloom. Everything was in a gentle lilac light, and fireflies glowed green despite it being daytime. It was idyllic, it was peaceful, the only thing out of place being the blot that dripped off Malleus. Yet it was contained to him, disappearing into a gentle puff of green sparkles when it hit the ground.

“How,” Malleus whispered, his words now a light green, no longer a harsh neon. “How are we here?”

You didn’t know, all you did was follow the light from the bottom of the inky depths. “Do you know this place?” You had no idea where you were, but you weren’t complaining, since you were no longer up to your neck in blot.

Malleus looked up, and there was the familiar raven gargoyle from his childhood. “This is my home,” he turned to look at you curiously. “How did you bring us here, Child of Man?”

“They didn’t,” a velvety voice said. And coming down the stairs was a woman, who looked like Malleus except older, looking like she was probably in her thirties. “I did, my love.”

She gracefully walked over, and cupped his face, looking over his features. And you could have sworn that you saw her absorb some of the blot. “You have grown into a fine young man. But you have let greed overshadow you.”

Malleus looked like he had seen a ghost, and he was frozen in place. “Mother?” His voice was quiet, barely even coming out. “But how?”

The woman, Malleus’s mother, hummed gently, combing her fingers through her son’s hair, slowly absorbing the blot from him. “You can thank them,” she turned to you and gave you a mischievous smile, “all thanks to your soul match.”

She turned back to her son, her face shifting into a more solemn expression. “My love, let me bestow a gift on you… but you won’t see me again. This is the last thing I can do for you. Let me do this though; for you and everyone you love.”

You can’t force people to be happy. 

Keep everyone you love close to you, guard them, hoard them.

You’re my friend, I’ll always be with you, even if we’re far apart!

You’ll love me at once-

This was wrong, and Malleus choked on his own blot. The greed, the dark parts of the dragon had won. “Please,” he coughed. 

His mother embraced him into a hug, “Spinning wheel of fate, undo this thread of darkness. As Queen of Briar, I shall bestow upon you this gift.” She placed a kiss on his forehead, and all of the blot was gone. “I love you,” she whispered, before her form vanished gently into green and lilac sparkles.

“I’m sorry,” the words floated over to you. Malleus looked tired, exhausted. How much magic had the blot taken from him? He opened his mouth again, but closed it, at a loss for words. “And I understand if… if you want nothing to do with me.”

From your times dealing with overblot, you knew this wasn’t his fault. Overblots are due to trauma, from bottling it all up until someone broke. “Why would I not want anything to do with you? I’m still friends with the others.”

Malleus looked into your eyes, but all he found was honesty… and love, love for a friend. A genuine love. 

You extended your hand, “So come on, Tsunotarou. Let’s move forward together.”

And he took your hand. The path forward was sure to be bumpy, but he knew that you would stick by his side, even after this.

Fin!

Author's Note; And this concludes the Soul Match AU! I know in my poll people voted for a fluffy ending, but uhhh, I was possessed by a vision. I might continue this AU for other characters in the future, but for now this is where I've leave it. Thank you for reading!

Tags; @xxoomiii @eynnwwyjth @twistwonderlanddevotee @savanaclaw1996 @krenenbaker

If you like my work, please check out my masterlist [there are 9 other Soul Match works btw]

[incorrect-play-it-by-ear]

Hey, don't cry, ok? 47 000 words of PIBE fanfic on ao3

[sysig]

He’s my little meow meow, my darling, my bbygirl (Patreon)

[itstimeforstarwars]

And for my next chapter, I will present

[pochapal]

they should invent a phd that doesn't have numerous pressing deadlines. just for me. <3

[goshdangronpa]

Rejoice, readers of my 18+ irumatsu fanfic! Chapter 10 is ... wait (makes a few more edits) (removes entire section then adds it back in) (rewrites entire draft) finally published! Thanks a million for your patience.

Kaede's Rhapsody - Chapter 10 - goshdangronpa - New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing [Archive of Our Own]

It's a lunchtime conversation between an exhausted Kaede and an uncomfortable Miu, the first extended chat they've shared so far. The word count is close to 2000, easily the fic's longest chapter yet. But the reason it took so much time and effort to write was trying to find the right flow, so hopefully it's a smooth read. I hope it's a fun and interesting read, too!

I mentioned before that I was trying to write the next three chapters at the same time as the final draft for this one. I didn't finish them, but I've made great headway in all of them, especially Chapter 11. Let's stick with a once-every-two-weeks schedule for now so I can build that backlog. In the meantime, enjoy the ride!

[bleakbluejay]

I'm really sad because my favorite word processor, the one baked-in in Windows 7, that is free and offline and has a built-in dictionary, was discontinued, and I can't find any versions of it to download. And I don't really like my current options that are free. Google Docs is free, and probably the best option I think, but it's online and I feel like I'm fighting with the formatting. I won't pay for a word processor, so MS Word is out. LibreOffice is probably my next best option, and my best offline option, but I still don't much care for it.

I want my emotional support word processor on Windows 7 that I was using since I was 11 that I used to write all my wolf stories and fan fictions. Back when I still used Windows 7, I had a shortcut pinned to my bar that went straight to the dictionary that was inside the word processor, too, so I could immediately look something up if I wasn't sure. I LOVED that. Because it was OFFLINE so I could use it whenever I wanted!!

[thebirdandhersong]

195 pages of reading finished but the last 18 feel like an extra 100...... I can do it......... I'm literally almost there

[filthyjanuary]

IM DONE MY FUCKING ESSAYYYYYYY

[curiosity-killed]

hi curio! do you have plans to publish your novels once you finish them? i love your writing so i would look forward to reading your original work too! (sorry if you've been asked this before)

hi there! aw thank you so much 🥰 I'm always surprise-delighted when ppl are interested in my original works!

unfortunately, my answer is ????? I would like to, mostly because I want a physical version of these fuckers that I can hold in my hands but, unlike when I first wrote TCP in elementary school and thought I was going to be a bestselling, globally adored author by 12 yr old, I uh. am not that confident about navigating publishing 😅 Part of me just wants to throw them up on a website and be done with it, because I a) am not terribly concerned about the financial aspect of publishing and b) mostly just REALLY want other ppl to talk abt these characters with me haha

So ultimately, yes, I want to publish them in some form but I am extremely unclear on what form that will be (in no small part because all my original fics are in various stages of "mostly words rather than a whole story") 😅

(and you never have to apologize about asking something! i'm literally always down to talk about my stories + have the memory of a concussed goldfish half the time anyway lol)

[spell-cleaver]

Whumptober No. 18 LET’S BREAK THE ICE “Just get it over with.” |  Treading Water | “Take my Coat”

Read it instead on AO3 or on FFN!

Zev had always hated the cold. But he hated being on a mission with Luke Skywalker more. This was the third time he’d put out a hand to force Zev to stop in the middle of the snowy forest, crouched low on the ground, listening.

“I can’t hear anything!” Zev hissed.

“Neither can I,” Skywalker replied under his breath. “But there’s something ahead, and we don’t want it to hear us.”

“Is this one of those Jedi instincts of yours?” Zev asked, his lip curling.

“Of course.” Skywalker eyed him. He wasn’t as tanned as he had once been, presumably due to the time away from his desert homeworld, but against the dirty white snow jacket, gloves, furred hood and boots, his skin stood out like a splash of colour. “Why?”

Zev shivered and told himself it was the cold. It had bitten through his heavy coat the moment Skywalker had landed them on this ball of ice; if it wasn’t for the goggles, he was sure his eyeballs would have frozen in their sockets. But even through those goggles, Skywalker’s gaze was uncomfortably intense, like he knew exactly what Zev was thinking.

Like—

“Vader does that a lot,” Zev said and made it clear in his voice exactly what he thought of Vader.

It rankled Skywalker, apparently, which Zev took as a win. He’d heard so much about the great destroyer of the Death Star: the man, the myth, the legend. Legends never held up. He was waiting to find out what was behind that uncrackable calm façade.

“You do know that Vader isn’t a Jedi?” Skywalker said tightly. “And that this sort of ability occurs naturally across the galaxy?”

“Jedi or not, it looks the same to me.”

Skywalker huffed to himself and turned away. Zev hated that this kid—who, admittedly, should only be three or four years younger than Zev at most—was being the more mature out of the two of them. He had been a commander after all before he resigned from Rogue Squadron, but still. Zev knew maturity. He knew self-discipline. His dad had taught him enough about that.

“Either way,” Skywalker said, “we need to be careful. The base is just up ahead—”

“And you know that how? We got thoroughly lost in that blizzard.” They’d hunkered down in a tent—Skywalker had meditated all night, who the hell did that—and waited it out, but by now Zev’s map was pretty useless. He didn’t like being useless. It gave people space to accuse him of being dead Imperial weight. “We can’t even see past that bank of trees for the snow.”

“It’s there,” Skywalker said. Maybe he was used to the Rogues obeying every instinct and order of his wordlessly, like good soldiers. He did really sound like Vader when he talked like that.

Zev had met Vader more times that he liked to remember. Imperial Army functions, where his dad would pull around his wife and child as a model soldier with a family; celebrations; parades; awards ceremonies where General Veers was awarded even more accolades. The last one had been the one that the Rebellion hated Zev’s dad the most for: Veers had received a commendation for what he’d done on Hoth, while Rebels hissed vitriol and called him the Butcher. Being the Butcher’s son, even a butcher’s son who’d defected shortly after realising how little his father cared about the Empire’s atrocities, had been less than easy.

At that ceremony, Vader had looked Zev, standing primly next to his father and fiercely missing his deceased mother, in the eye. He had looked from General Veers to his son several times, with enough intensity to knock the breath out of Zev’s chest. Then he had looked away.

Skywalker’s regard reminded him of that. It made him grit his teeth.

“I don’t believe you,” he decided.

“I get you’re new to the Alliance, but—”

“I know how army missions work, Skywalker.” Was he always going to have someone looking over his shoulder like this? Vader, sizing him up beside his father, and inevitably finding him lacking? Skywalker, dissatisfied with his lack of obedience to the ranking officer and leader on this mission?

“You don’t know how the Force works though,” Skywalker said carefully. Everyone Zev had spoken to had said their hero was bright, reckless, a bit clumsy with words and overeager but earnest. A damn hard worker. This meticulous way of speaking to Zev just made him feel like he was being coddled again. “I just wanted to explain it to you, if you didn’t. I get feelings, sometimes—they direct me to where I need to go, though it’s not always where I want to go, and they warn me of danger. And I can sense people’s presences. Life forms.” He noticed ahead of them, still crouching. “There’s a lot of life forms over there.”

“Can you read minds?” Zev asked. He wanted to know if Vader had been able to read his rebellious thoughts on him, like a dog smelling blood.

“Only if I try.” Skywalker seemed to be going for a joke, but he aborted it halfway. “I don’t.”

Zev wished he hadn’t asked.

“We need to get closer, then,” he said instead. “Our mission is to scout out the base.”

“If we get any closer, something will go wrong,” Skywalker said.

“What will go wrong?”

Skywalker hesitated. “I don’t know. But it will. I need you to trust that.”

That was impossible. Zev had been raised in the heart of the Empire. He had weathered the Imperial academy. There was no trusting someone until you saw them crack, and Skywalker was too composed for that. Too heroic.

“There might be another blizzard on the way,” he tried to justify. “We need to move fast.”

“We need to do this right.” Skywalker glanced at him. “If I told you what I suspected, would you listen?”

“Why haven’t you told me before?”

“I’m not certain—at least, I don’t want to be certain—”

“I’m going,” he decided and stood up.

“Veers, no!”

Zev barely made it three paces through the thick, snowy undergrowth before teeth snapped shut around his ankle. He howled.

Skywalker was next to him in a moment; he caught him before Zev fell hard into the thorny bushes; his grip was strong, but apparently Zev’s enormous height and subsequent weight was difficult for him. He struggled with him to the ground. Distantly, they heard shouts.

“Kriff,” Skywalker said. “I was right.”

“About the danger?” Zev spat, glancing down at  the ankle. Kriff—kriff—he could see blood. He could see bone. “You didn’t tell me they’d have a kriffing trap here!”

“It doesn’t look like it’s for humans, it’s for—”

“Animals, I know! I’ve been hunting before!” The Imperials at this base were probably hoping for game to get them through the harsher nights, or just doing it for fun, and they happened to have snagged an Imperial-turned Rebel instead—

“I wasn’t right about the trap. I didn’t know what that was.” Skywalker winced as well when he looked down at Zev’s injury, the metal teeth that went all the way through and out the other side of his squishy leg. “I was right about the other thing.”

“Which is?”

The distant shouts grew louder. They weren’t as distant as Zev had thought, he realised; they were far too close for comfort. Someone had heard him scream. He could hear them assembling.

And worse, he recognised the voice barking orders.

“No one’s sure where that came from, so split up! Two squads to the north. You lot, head west. You—” The voice paused; Skywalker went very still, turning his face away, closing his eyes. Zev watched, but clearly the camouflage against the snow worked. “—take the east side. If there are Rebels here, Lord Vader will want them found.”

Zev felt the colour drain out of his face. “You’re kidding me.”

“I was really hoping Vader wasn’t here,” Skywalker muttered.

“Vader’s here?”

“By the looks of it, Vader, General Veers, and a significant portion of the Imperial Army. There must be something important going on here.”

It wasn’t just the pain putting the nausea into Zev’s stomach. “It’s a strategic planet.”

“Yeah.” Skywalker glanced back. “We need to run. They’re headed this way.”

“Run? I can’t—”

A snap-hiss was all the warning Zev got. Skywalker’s lightsaber wasn’t blue, as Zev had heard; it was green. As green as his mother’s eyes had been. Zev yelped at the sight of it, then stifled himself. Skywalker slashed through the trap, close enough to the exposed skin of Zev’s legs to both burn and freeze it simultaneously and tugged the metal jaws out of his flesh.

Zev did his best, again, not to scream.

Skywalker cut a swath of fabric from his coat and swiftly tied it around Zev’s shin, the blood pumping over his hand, then tied it tightly enough that Zev thought his foot would fall off. His heart was thundering in his chest. Despite all his training, everything his dad had taught him, he had never been injured in the field like this. He did not know what to do.

But Skywalker did. “Run!”

That was one order Zev was happy to obey.

Pain lanced up his leg with every step, until he was gambling, galloping, stumbling through the undergrowth like a three-legged deer. Skywalker had shot off at the speed of light—how could Jedi move that fast—to begin with, but then he dropped behind and kept pace with him. It felt insulting. Zev knew it wasn’t meant that way.

“Keep running,” Skywalker urged, hardly out of breath. He pranced over hidden logs and bushes like they were nothing. “Our ship is nearby. We just need to get out of atmo.”

Zev stared at the lightsaber hilt, beating innocuously against Skywalker’s thigh. A literal sword of light from the stories, the romantic side he’d got from his mother prompted; the scepticism that the academy had beaten into him told him instead about how he’d seen something like that before, as well.

At his father’s medal ceremony, a rich, ornately dressed patron had loudly boasted how much they had contributed to the bounty that was out for Luke Skywalker’s corpse. Lord Vader had wordlessly and gracefully drew his lightsaber and sent their head rolling, bloodless, across the marble floor. They didn’t even have the chance for their expression to shift from that smug, inattentive smile.

What a barbaric weapon. At least a blaster did it from a distance. At least everyone knew to expect them. Why were people who could already kill with their minds allowed to just carry a sword of fire wherever they went? If he ever had to duel Vader, Zev would rather have a blaster at his side. And that might be a possibility they had to encounter, soon.

Skywalker held out a hand to stop them so fast Zev almost crashed past it. A force caught him and set him gently back down on the ground, before he floundered out of the woods and onto what looked like a beach. He picked himself up, grimacing with pain at the trail of bright blood he’d left in the snow like flags in a race, and glared at Skywalker.

“Don’t touch me like that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. There was the earnestness. But the way his head tilted as he scanned the white, featureless horizon, jaw working and brows creasing, undid the effect. He was staring into space again.

What happened, when two unnatural beings like Skywalker and Vader collided? If they didn’t move soon, Zev would kriffing find out, but Skywalker wasn’t moving.

“You said the ship was near,” Zev said. No matter that they’d been hiking for days to get over here. How had they got that turned around? “We need to move.”

Vader was here. Zev did not want to have him root through his mind, stare at him like he had before. He did not want to be the one whose head rolled. Unconsciously, he glanced at Skywalker’s lightsaber again.

His father had spent his life serving under a religious fanatic who made irrational military decisions, he thought, semi-hysterically. Zev was going to die this way as well.

“I misinterpreted,” Skywalker said.

“What does that mean?”

Skywalker pointed straight ahead. Zev peered out of the wood, following the snow plain to the horizon. He saw nothing.

Except, that wasn’t a snow plain.

“That’s a pretty bad misinterpretation, Skywalker!” Zev snapped.

“It’s a narrow channel. The river is usually very still. We can circumnavigate it, like we did when hiking here, or go straight across.”

“It wasn’t frozen over when we landed!”

“It is now.”

“Will it stay that way?”

Skywalker scrunched his eyes shut, reaching out a hand. For a moment, Zev had to stop and stare. Vader was never so obvious when he was uncertain, not from the stories he’d heard. At least Skywalker wasn’t an infallible hero in that, then.

“Yes,” Skywalker said at last, hesitantly.

“You don’t sound like you believe it.”

“It will stay that way if we’re careful. I can guide us over the safe bits; if we stick to the bits that feel safe, we’ll be fine.”

“None of this feels safe!” Zev gestured to his leg. Stars, he should’ve stayed with the Empire. Funnelled his pocket money into the Rebellion instead, or something. What the hell was he doing here? Why the hell had he agreed to go on a mission with this guy?

“We can go back the way we came,” Skywalker offered gently. “I have medical supplies. We can find somewhere to hide, pitch the tent, then I’ll stand watch while you treat your injury more effectively.”

“Yes!” Zev enthused. “Let’s do that.”

“Alright. It’s this way, then.” Luke nodded to their left. “We should hug the edge of the woods, get some more shelter—” He cut himself off. “Get down.”

This time, Zev obeyed fast enough that he didn’t get thrown down by an unseen force. They ducked behind a thorn bush, holding their breaths.

“And you’re sure the footprints went this way?”

It wasn’t near. In fact, through the forest, it would take General Veers quite a trek to get to them. But the voice seized Zev’s heart. Skywalker glanced at him; even through the goggles on his face, his expression was something uncomfortably like sympathy.

Longing, even.

Could he read the inferno of emotions in Zev’s chest? If he could, Zev would need him to unpick them for him.

“Yes, sir. They’re a bit muddled, but there’s a blood trail as well. It got a bit kicked up around here.”

“Then fan out and search this area. They can’t have gone far.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zev whispered, “We’re going across the ice.”

Skywalker glanced at him. “What?”

“I am not staying here to be found. We’re going across the ice. It’s against Imperial policy to follow on foot, and to get speeders they’d have to go back, fix them to deal with the cold, by which time we’d better be across.”

“We will be,” Skywalker reassured. It was obvious this was not one of his premonitions. “Alright. Move slowly. The ice is thick, but it creaks. Our coats should camouflage us.”

“What does a desert boy know about ice?”

“Hoth was a steep learning curve.”

Zev suddenly wondered if Skywalker had watched his squadron die under Zev’s father’s fire.

“Alright,” he said. “Lead the way.”

Zev had never moved so slowly. Every footstep, snow crunching underfoot, was like a cannon bursting from under his toes. The blood that drip, drip, dripped behind him, melting through the top layer of white snow crystals, was fairy tale-esque in the trail it left behind. The only colour in this bleak, monochromatic landscape.

Skywalker stepped onto the ice first. It creaked slightly under his foot, but he spread his weight, his snowshoes doing their job—Zev’s right one had been crushed in the trap, so he didn’t know how he’d manage—and got several metres without so much as a hitch. He beckoned to Zev.

“Come on.” His tone was a murmur, almost. Zev heard it in the rush of cold air against his cheeks.

He followed gingerly. Every tiptoe across the ice felt like inviting doom. Up close, it wasn’t white: it was deep aquamarine, shot through with frost-tipped planes. His own distraught face stared back at him as if out of a shattered mirror. Skywalker’s reflected back as well, upside down from this angle; Zev glanced at his reflection, and for a moment he thought he looked afraid. A crack in the ice bisected his reflection, like he was made of fragments himself.

“Stay low to the ice,” he murmured again. “They’re coming. We need to get into the haze of snow before they get here.”

They kept moving. Skywalker stepped in an irregular, zigzag pattern that made Zev’s head spin, but he knew how to dodge blaster bolts so the logic to it made sense. He followed behind closely.

Wouldn’t the ice, thick as it was, be weaker when he stepped on it, having already born Skywalker’s weight? Wasn’t he heavier?

“What is there to say that where you step is safe for you but not for me?” he asked. “I’m a lot heavier than you.”

“I’m paying attention, Veers. I don’t want you to die.”

“You weren’t paying attention back there.”

“I made a mistake, I’m sorry. This is a fast way to get to the ship.”

“It’s just also a dangerous way.”

“Yeah.”

Zev shivered. But that was his dad back there, searching for the faceless Rebel that had replaced his only son. Their last conversation played on repeat in his head: Veers’s absolutely adamance that Zev was wrong, that Lord Vader’s decapitation of that random Imperial was justified even if neither of them knew the facts behind it, Zev desperately trying to make his father see how the values he had taught him contradicted this.

It was either face the past or risk the future. He had to trust this unnatural Jedi hero. He resented it with every fibre of his being.

But the moment he divided from Skywalker’s forged path, he felt a change in the ice underneath him. It shifted under his step, groaning. His reflection rippled, afraid.

He slipped back onto Skywalker’s path. The faint fall of snow had split them from sight of the shore, Zev’s bright trail of blood leading into a white haze. There was nothing but Skywalker’s instincts to say whether they were heading away from the Imperials, towards their ships, or the wrong way entirely.

“Just to break the ice,” Skywalker said, then winced at his own phrase, “we’re both thinking it. I wanted to confirm. That’s…” He hesitated. “That’s your dad back there, isn’t it?”

“What’s it to you?” Zev bit out, a little louder than he should have. The ice bounced it back at him; he stumbled and heard it crunch, then scrambled away again. Before his eyes, the tiny plate he’d punched loose in his overeager kick bobbed merrily, caved in on all sides, and slowly froze back to the main plate.

“I’m sorry,” was not what Zev had been expecting. “I know it’s hard to have a parent on the other side of the war.”

“The hells would you know about it?”

For a moment, he hoped this would be the moment Skywalker cracked. This would be when he revealed that darker core Zev could tell was there. No perfect mask stayed unscarred for long. Vader’s mask was replaced regularly for the wear it took on the battlefield.

“I’m sorry,” Skywalker repeated.

“Don’t pity me,” Zev said.

“I don’t.”

“Don’t judge me either.”

“You think I would?”

“You’re Luke Skywalker. You wouldn’t understand any of this! You’re too busy saving the day to worry about the grey areas of the galaxy!”

And that was why Zev couldn’t trust anyone perfect. He was antsy around all the Rebel leaders, Princess Leia especially, for how they kept their faces blank and their feelings neutral throughout the war, their masks impeccable. He hated following symbols. They weren’t real people, they wouldn’t understand him, and they definitely wouldn’t try to. They’d just look right through him—or down on him, if they saw him at all. And they took everyone else away.

How many of his friends at the academy had never taken their anti-Imperial thoughts to their natural conclusion because they were so enamoured with the shiny stormtrooper armour? How many people had died for an emperor who sat on a throne and never bothered to look them in the eye? How many fathers had been lost, because they were so loyal to one, impossibly powerful leader, that they refused to listen to their own sons?

It had been naïve to think that the Rebellion might be different, for that. But Zev would be.

Skywalker said, “I understand what people say about me. I don’t like it.”

“They say you’re a hero.”

“Yeah. I’m not going to judge you, Zevulon.”

“If you’re going to be unprofessional and use my first name, it’s Zev. But don’t. Don’t use it.”

There were shouts in the distance. People were onto their trail. Skywalker looked behind them and swallowed.

“You can move faster than me,” Zev told him. “Go. They’re following my trail.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” Skywalker’s gaze moved from them to him. “How do you deal with it?”

“What?”

“Knowing your father hates Rebels.”

That was the final straw. Zev stared at Skywalker, silhouetted in goggles and a massive hood against the white fall of snow. The ice underneath his feet was almost luminescent, blue-green and brilliant, with the light that Skywalker seemed to exude just by existing.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Zev said, his voice lower and colder than the bottom of this river. “Let’s get this over with.” He marched forwards, shoving past Skywalker.

“Veers, wait!” Fingers caught the edge of his jacket, but he brushed them off. He wanted to be done with this mission. He wanted to be done with all of this. He never wanted to think about his father again.

The ice cracked. His foot went through. His knee, then waist, then torso followed. When his head hit the water, it was like being folded in liquid nitrogen.

He instinctively gasped for air. Frigid water flooded his mouth, his nose. He coughed and spluttered, eyes streaming even underwater. It was so dark under here, that aquamarine fading to a dark, hungry blue that lurked beneath his kicking boots. His broken snowshoe trembled with how hard he beat his legs in the water, even as the cold bit into the holes the trap’s teeth had left behind; it wobbled some more, then dropped off his boot altogether. He watched it sink.

Everything was so slow. His head was pounding, but… He needed…

He needed to get out of here.

Straining, he reached for the surface. His coat was a dead weight around him; survival training, no matter how abstract it had been to swim leisurely in a pool compared to this, seized the back of his mind. He shrugged off his coat, watching that billow to the bottom of the river as well. When he reached the surface, he extended a hand.

He met only ice.

No, no, no—

How far had he shifted? Was there a current? Had the ice shifted instead? He couldn’t see the hole he’d fallen through anymore. Light streamed into the water in the distance, but it was too far away to make out—was that it? Shadows flickered along the surface. Where was he? Where was up? Down?

He knew where that was. The more he kicked, the more the cold sank into his muscles, and the less he kicked. Slowly, he drifted towards the dark blue embrace.

Thumping. Lots of footsteps, it sounded like—through the water, at least. Skywalker should run. When Vader caught him, he’d kill him.

Bubbles wibbled in front of Zev’s face. His lungs burned. Slowly, his vision went red. Then blue. Then, just before the true blackness crept in, he saw a shadow flicker above in the paler blue part of the world.

A spear of green shot through the haze.

The sight of a lightsaber so close to his face shocked him out of his stupor. He gasped, more water choking him, but it spun around him as neatly as a factory machine. He followed it around with staring eyes, bubbles dribbling from his lips. When he looked up, he saw a perfect circle of white, limned in green. It exploded outwards.

That horrible force he hated so much seized him. One moment he was dying, then he was lying on his side on the ice, retching. That green light had not stopped. It was… warm.

He noticed that where Skywalker reached it out, hovering it a few millimetres above his clothes, steam evaporated off of him.

“This is taking too long,” he muttered to himself, and deactivated it. Zev wanted to protest, wanted the light and warmth back. Skywalker shrugged off his coat. “Take this.”

“What?” But he’d already bundled it around his shoulders. A shock of residual warmth from Skywalker’s body went through his shoulders. “Why?”

“Because you’re half dead.”

“No,” Zev said, struggling to get it out. “Why didn’t you run?”

“Why would I?”

Of course he hadn’t run. He was a hero. But he didn’t look calm and collected now. He was shivering violently without his coat, one of his hands curled limply at his side, and kept looking to the horizon.

“Veers,” Skywalker said.

“Zev.”

“What?”

Zev stared at Skywalker’s lightsaber. “Just—call me Zev, alright? You’ve already saved me twice.”

That got a mirthless smile. “Alright. Zev. Do you think your father will kill you, if he finds you?”

“What?”

“If he finds you, will your father kill you? Rebel or not, you’re his son.”

“Why?”

“Because we can’t escape,” Skywalker said. “You can’t move very far like this. We’d freeze before we got back to the ship.”

“You can still escape.”

“Will your father kill you or not? Or hurt you?”

“No!” Zev said. “I don’t think. No. He won’t.” He was furious at him. But he loved him. Angst about their relationship and Zev’s betrayal aside, he had that low, low bar to count on: his father would not kill him if they ever saw each other again.

Skywalker swallowed. “I have a flare,” he said.

Zev’s eyes widened. “You need to escape. No.”

“You’re sure that your father won’t hurt you?” Skywalker’s voice cracked. And Zev watched, with shock and horror, as Skywalker cracked as well. Hot tears were steaming up his goggles. “That fathers don’t do that?”

“No! Why?”

“You think I’m like Vader.”

“Yes? No? It’s—”

“You should. You’re right. Do you know what he told me when I last confronted him?” Skywalker’s words were an avalanche. “He’s my father.”

Zev watched Skywalker. Skywalker watched him back.

That stare. That alertness, the instincts, and expectation that people should follow them, because they were evidently right. How Skywalker had flinched, revealing that first hint of the darkness at his core, when Zev first brought Vader up.

“He cut off my hand before he told me that,” Skywalker got out. He waved his dead hand. “It’s a prosthetic.”

Zev stared at it. “It must’ve died in the cold ages ago.”

“It did.”

“You’ve only had one functioning hand this whole time and you didn’t say anything?”

“It wasn’t relevant! Your injury was!”

“Vader is your father?” Vader had a son? A Rebel son? One who had an Alive Only bounty on big enough to buy the Empire out from under him?

“Apparently!”

He thought about how Vader had stared at him, at that awards ceremony. Standing tall and proud next to his decorated father: an army cadet, ready to serve by his side. He thought about how Vader had looked away.

Zev reached out a hand to take Skywalker’s dead one. “Send up the flare,” he told him.

“You’re sure? You’ll be alright?”

“So will you.” Zev’s chest ached. That might be from inhaling all that water. “Once they rescue us, we’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Send up the flare,” Zev insisted. “Now, you have to trust me.”

When Luke looked at him, he was not judging him. Zev didn’t know why he’d ever thought that he was.

This war had left no one unscathed. Maybe Luke, Princess Leia, Zev’s dad, Vader, all the symbols of good and evil he’d ever looked up to, were just much better at hiding it than he was.

Luke fumbled in his bag for the flare. Looked at it in his left hand. “I need you to help,” he said, wiggling his dead prosthetic.

Zev nodded and took the string. Together, they lifted it, aimed, and fired.

It soared into the sky with an ear-splitting squeal. Bright yellow, orange, red: the antithesis to this cold landscape around them. When it exploded, just the sight of the showering sparks warmed Zev, somewhat. So did the distant shouts.

They huddled together on the ice, heat bleeding through each other like hope, and waited for their fathers to rescue them.

[norellenilia]

Eldarya, A New Era - Episode 18

Originellement publié ici le 2 avril 2023.

Ah bah quand même !

Enfin, ENFIN après trois épisodes creux comme le crâne d’Erika, il se passe quelque chose de pertinent !! C’est toujours englué dans des clichés relous et on continue toujours de piétiner joyeusement la cohérence par moments, mais au moins l’histoire avance enfin à nouveau, c’est quand même pas trop tôt. J’ai dépensé 2340 maanas, ce qui est plus que correct (cette fois), surtout alors que j’ai fait la scène facultative. Allez, pas grand-chose à dire pour cette intro, plongeons-nous enfin dans l’action !!! CDC TO : Valkyky l’Assassiné CDC ANE : Personne, route de Mathieu

Comme lors de l’épisode précédent, la scène d’ouverture nous place dans la chambre d’Erika, à la suite de la soirée d’enterrement de vie de garçon de Chrome, après la nuit torride passée avec Mathieu (car n’oubliez pas qu’ils aiment forniquer c’est trézimportan). Perso j’ai bien aimé leur discussion sur la façon dont un monde ou l’autre leur manquerait. Même si la Terre leur rappelle des mauvais souvenirs, il y a toujours un attachement, une nostalgie, et c’est intéressant à explorer. Par contre mdr le coup de « oui si on explique aux humains que les faëries sont sympa ça devrait aller, » quand Erika dit qu’à son avis ce ne serait pas si simple, je pensais qu’elle allait dire que ouais bah va faire accepter à l’humanité des vampires, des kappas, des ogres et des gus avec tout un panel d’oreilles et de queues d’animaux lol, mais non le premier truc qui lui vient à l’esprit c’est que les Templiers « retourneraient l’opinion publique contre [eux] » (??) 🙄 On arrive à la scène prophétique d’Erika qui joue les entremetteuses du dimanche entre Karuto et Cif. Sur le coup ça m’a juste paru être une énième scène de meuf hétéro qui se sent l’âme d’une sauveuse de couples gays masculins, mais bien sûr nous découvrirons plus tard que c’est plus profond que ça, et pas forcément pour le mieux. La scène suivante avec Koori sera l’une de ces scènes où les dialogues sont inutilement remplis de banalités pour faire genre qu’ils sont vivants et pour remplir le contrat de nombres de clics à faire dans l’épisode. Qui ça intéresse le débat sur la salle des portes comme point central du QG machin bidule ? Koori est cependant surtout là pour dire à Erika d’aller voir Chrome, qui se morfond au bord de la falaise en passant en revue l’intégralité de sa vie pour revoir le chemin de choix qui l’a mené sur cette route du scénario. Je sais pas comment ça se passe avec Karenn, mais avec Chrome, j’ai trouvé ça plutôt chouette. De manière générale, comme je suis à un moment de mon existence où le mariage avec la personne qui partage ma vie depuis plus de 10 ans est un projet en voie de concrétisation, beaucoup des dialogues de la partie « mariage » de l’épisode ont résonné chez moi (même ceux de Karenn, c’est dire 😆) ; l’introspection, la peur, les promesses, le sentiment que cette union sera la meilleure décision possible, etc. Et puis ça me donne l’impression que, pour la première fois depuis toujours ou presque, le personnage de Chrome gagne un peu en profondeur. J’ai le sentiment que c’est la première fois qu’il me parle vraiment un peu, qu’on voit enfin une vraie relation d’amitié entre lui et Erika, où auparavant c’était basé sur des vannes stupides et des remarques désobligeantes. Donc ça faisait plaisir. On le voit enfin être autre chose qu’un gamin désinvolte avec quelques sursauts d’attitude de chef quand le scénario le demande, et encore c’était jamais dit de façon très sérieuse. Je dis pas qu’il aurait fallu qu’il soit aussi carré et protocolaire que peut l’être Nevra pour avoir l’air sérieux, mais disons que son rôle de trublion et de comic relief se ressentait pas mal même dans ses interventions censément plus solennelles. Après entendons-nous bien, hein, je trouve toujours qu’épouser Karenn c’est une décision de con parce qu’elle est l’un des persos les plus agaçants de toute l’histoire d’Eldarya, qu’on se le dise.

Ce sera ma hot take jusqu’à la fin des temps.

Vient ensuite la vision apocalyptique d’Erika, et franchement plus ça va, plus Ophélia elle a l’air suspecte mdr. La gosse d’habitude elle dit rien ou presque et toujours d’un air neutre, là elle raconte sa vie avec un sourire jusqu’aux oreilles, y’a quoi ?? Et bien y’a qu’apparemment, Eldarya va être engloutie dans une giga faille de maanas dans laquelle tous les faëries vont s’engouffrer pour s’échapper grâce à une mystérieuse personne qui ne sera pas Erika. Bon bah si c’est bien vers la Terre qu’ils vont, y’a plus qu’à espérer que les humains les acceptent aussi facilement que ce que croient naïvement Erika et Mathieu :’)

Nous retrouvons Chrome dans son fringant costume, torturé par l’idée que quelque chose pourrait mal se passer, comme des décos mal installées ou une attaque d’une secte venue d’un monde parallèle avec des armes à feu contre lesquelles personne ici ne sait se défendre… … Mais nan j’rigole, quelle idée hahaha, pourquoi ça arriverait durant un mariage hahaha ! On arrive alors sur le lieu de la cérémonie, qui n’est autre que le terrier. La scène est décorée de rubans tenant par l’opération du saint esprit, des coussins sont installés partout par terre et deux sièges sont suspendus aux branches de l’arbre comme des balançoires. Et c’est bien joli tout ça mais j’ai repensé à un tout petit détail. Rien d’important hein mais quand même c’est assez cocasse… On est sur la tombe de Mery :’) Alors oui je sais qu’il existe des sociétés où les rites funéraires consistent à danser sur les sépultures (voire parfois avec les cadavres qu’on exhume), mais de ce qu’on a vu depuis le début, les rites à Eel sont totalement calqués sur les rites occidentaux modernes à un ou deux détails près histoire de (on pourrait d’ailleurs parler du costume de Chrome qui rappelle juste les costumes royaux masculins mais en blanc et avec un châle lol) parce que personne n’a jamais cherché à créer la moindre spécificité à une société imaginaire, du coup je sais pas si c’est censé être de bon goût de faire une cérémonie de mariage puis de danser la zumba sur la tombe d’un enfant assassiné mdr Commencent les discours de mariage. Oui je sais également que le mariage est une institution patriarcale à réformer lourdement dans le meilleur des cas, on est entièrement d’accord, mais le côté union devant les proches pour se lier à la personne qu’on aime et fêter ça avec les gens qui comptent moi j’trouve ça beau laissez-moi :(

Ouf il y a d’autres gifs que celui avec vous-savez-qui

Comme je le disais plus tôt, j’ai bien aimé les discours. Je suis une incorrigible romantique, je chiale au mariage de mes ami-e-s, je chiale devant les jolies histoires d’amour à la télé, et me voilà à presque avoir la larmichette devant le discours de Karenn, je sais pas si ça vous fait comprendre à quel point je suis faible face à ce genre de trucs ?? J’aime aucun des deux personnages, imaginez si ça avait été des personnages que j’aime bien ??? (Genre notre mariage avec Valkyon, mais on peut pas il est mort, et pour ce qu’on en sait l’un-e des invité-e-s a le fessier posé sur lui durant ce mariage lol) Un autre truc qui m’a fait mais hurler de rire (en bien !!), c’est les moments où on a pu dire qu’on s’emmerdait royalement pendant les discours, j’en pouvais plus de rire 😆 Et en vrai au-delà de l’alignement aengel/daemon c’est pas non plus inconcevable comme choix. En ce qui me concerne, malgré le fait que j’ai globalement bien aimé les discours et que du coup en vrai j’aurais été neutre au pire, j’ai choisi les réponses « négatives, » premièrement parce que je trouve ça incroyablement rigolo, deuxièmement parce que bon ça fait beaucoup de clics quand même, troisièmement parce que malgré la trêve de ce mariage, ben ça reste Karenn et Chrome :’) (Surtout Karenn, on va pas se mentir.) On notera cependant qu’Erika aura, de bout en bout, fait une bien piètre sœur d’un jour. Elle n’a pas organisé la soirée d’enterrement de vie de garçon, elle a tout délégué ; elle ne s’est absolument pas renseigné sur le déroulé de la cérémonie ; elle n’a rien fait pour aider à préparer le grand jour, alors que culturellement c’est dans le rôle du témoin. Tout ce qu’elle aura fait, c’est dire aux Purrekos de faire son taf pour la soirée, porter une jolie robe et accompagner Chrome jusqu’à l’autel, bonjour l’ambiance. Les danses commencent, et avec elles arrive la première illustration. Je l’ai ratée, sans doute à cause de l’ennui ostentatoire que j’ai fait avoir à Erika mdr, mais revenons quand même sur cette illu. Je suis désolée de le dire de manière aussi cinglante, mais… Y’a rien qui va ?? Je sais pas si c’est un manque de temps, un manque de travail, les deux, d’autres choses, mais c’est le genre d’images où, même si j’arrive pas tout de suite à expliquer pourquoi, je la regarde et je me dis : « ça va pas. » La perspective est totalement en vrac, Mathieu a plus l’air de lorgner Nevra qu’Erika, Nevra lorgne Lance, Lance lorgne soit Nevra soit les nibards d’Erika, y’a que Leiftan qui regarde dans la bonne direction, ça se voit qu’à mon avis vous avez mis les persos sur une version agrandie du terrier parce que c’est plus de l’herbe c’est un nid à Ratattas, et le fond est VIDE, mes aïeux ! On est à un mariage, où sont les décos, le buffet, les autres persos même en flou à l’arrière plan ?? On dirait juste une illu de la St Val sans les fleurs et le filtre rose… On se coltine littéralement que des illus de groupes avec les CDC depuis deux ans à part à 3 events, c’est pas pour en retrouver un ersatz durant les épisodes… Je sais pas, mettre Chrome et Karenn en avant au moins, c’est eux les stars de la fête, ça fait depuis l’épisode 11 qu’on a pas vu un autre perso qu’un CDC sur une illu d’épisode, ça commence à faire long. Alors oui y’a Caméria sur la deuxième illu, mais c’est pareil, quel est l’intérêt de caser tous les CDC dessus ? Quand on aurait plutôt pu avoir une illu de la confrontation avec Papounet dans la forêt ? Vous faites même pas de romance dans votre jeu de romance, ça va pas se compenser en calant que des illus avec les CDC, comme si c’était les seuls souvenirs qu’on pouvait avoir d’une histoire avec eux, plutôt que, je sais pas, avoir l’impression d’une vraie romance directement dans le jeu… En parlant de romance, insistons encore un peu sur LES GAYS en enjoignant Karuto à danser avec Cif, puis une fois le satyre parti, racontons à Hua le nouvel épisode de la série « Visions Envoyées par Ophélia la Potentiellement Maléfique. » Hua, encore une fois, ne semble pas spécialement étonnée, si ça se trouve elle capte aussi des prophéties et a choisi de tout cacher, sans doute pour des excuses de pas perturber le destin, comme Miiko, mais bon. On verra ça demain, là c’est le mariage, profitons, hahahaha !!!

… Mais… Mais que voilà ?? Une attaque ??? Pendant le mariage ???? Comment est-ce possible ?????

MAIS QUI L’AURAIT CRU ???????????

Bon c’est un trope tellement vieux comme le monde (tellement que vous l’avez vous-mêmes utilisé en saison 1) que toute personne qui suit un minimum avait vu le coup (de feu lolxptdr) venir, avec ou sans les leaks, qu’ils soient de votre fait ou non. Aucune surprise, aucun suspens, à ce stade je sais même pas ce que vous espériez comme réaction de notre part. Après je sens bien la montée en tension, la panique qui suit les premiers coups de feu alors que deux minutes avant on dansait, ça pas de souci. C’est juste qu’encore une fois c’est fait avec la subtilité d’un tractopelle, on passe toute la première moitié de l’épisode à dire « non mais ça va aller, il va rien se passer » ; « t’inquiète on a encore un peu de temps » ; « détends-toi et profite du moment carpe diem yolo etc » et on sait trèèèèès bien que quand vous faites ça c’est que ça va mal tourner, du coup y’a zéro surprise dans une scène qui est censée nous choquer. Il peut pas y avoir de choc quand vous ne faites pas d’efforts dans les dialogues et que vous êtes de toute façon coutumiers des scénarios stéréotypes. Enfin voilà, les Templiers attaquent, ils viennent probablement du portail de la forêt. Moi par contre j’ai plusieurs questions techniques à poser : - Déjà les gus ils arrivent sur une grande plaine qu’ils connaissent pas, près d’une base militaire qu’ils connaissent pas, ils sont censés savoir qu’il y a au moins des vampires, des ogres, des magicien-nes (je me souviens plus si Papounet avait fini par apprendre que Lance était un dragon, mais si c’est le cas ils sont même pas venus préparés), Papounet semblait être au courant des pouvoirs d’Erika, et pourtant y’a pas l’air d’y avoir de formation ou tout autre semblant de stratégie, c’est juste PZIOU PZIOU PZIOU on tire dans le tas… On dirait qu’ils sont aussi doués que la Garde quand il s’agit de se préparer à une bataille. - Après, il est où exactement l’intérêt de cette attaque ?? Si l’un des buts de Papounet c’est de récupérer sa fille, à quel moment c’est intelligent d’aller attaquer ses copains, surtout alors qu’elle est potentiellement dans le tas ?? Si tu crois que ta fille a eu l’esprit embrigadé par les faëries, en quoi les tuer va la faire changer d’avis ?? On règle pas ce qu’on considère être une prise d’otage par la violence, ça va faire que braquer (ui j’ai revu des docus sur Waco récemment lol). Pourquoi ne pas envoyer un émissaire, ou y aller lui-même avec M. Muscles au cas où mdr, pour essayer ce qu’on appelle la né-go-cia-tion ? Et si ça marche pas bah pan pan les guns, vous avez votre scène choc mais au moins elle sort pas de nulle part. Mais non, une attaque absolument pas préparée c’est plus percutant. Le combat se poursuit, et alors que les Gardien-nes pensaient en avoir fini, Erika apprend que « le Maître » est là… Pas le temps de tergiverser, elle se lance à sa poursuite sans hésiter.

Complètement acculé, Papounet tente tant bien que mal de se justifier, arguant que ce monde est perdu et va disparaître dans quelques jours de toute façon. Erika est toute colère, ce qui, entre nous, n’est pas très étonnant. Je fais juste une parenthèse sur cette histoire d’aengel/daemon et des différences que ça engendre dans le comportement d’Erika. Je suis à fond pour cette mécanique, soyons d’accord. Le problème c’est que je commence à être complètement perdue sur ce qui influe ou non sur ce qu’Erika est en train de devenir. Il y a des trucs évidents comme choisir d’assommer un garde ou je sais plus, mais est-ce que tous les autres choix où on peut décider d’être désagréable ou non ça compte, du genre si on aide Cif à descendre les escalier ou si on s’ennuie pendant le mariage, ça joue ou pas ?? Je dis pas que ce serait une mauvaise idée dans le fond (même si des fois ça a rien à voir et qu’il y a pas vraiment de réponse « méchant vs gentil » mais bon c’est un détail de plus), mais si jamais je voulais devenir une daemon tout restant polie avec les personnages ? Ou alors quel pourcentage de réponses daemon dois-je donner afin d’être sûre d’avoir cette fin ? Je demande pas d’avoir les soluces tellement évidentes que c’en serait pas amusant, mais j’ai l’impression que c’est pas très bien calibré. On notera également au passage que du coup ça donne des choix sans aucune nuance ; Kaaen en donne un exemple plus haut avec le passage des escaliers. « Ah tu pensais que t’incliner c’était juste être polie ? Ben raté tu as pris la réponse daemon ! » Et c’est loin d’être la seule occurrence, je repense au procès de Mathieu où j’ai acquiescé au discours de Chù qui me semblait sensé pour découvrir après qu’elle passait pour la méchante qui voulait pas des vampires dans le QG… Pour moi c’est pas logique. Et du coup ça fait que parfois on sait même pas ce qui va être une réponse « daemon » ou une réponse « aengel. » Je l’ai déjà dit, j’aurais bien aimé partir sur la route daemon, mais comme à part quelques choix évidents j’ai absolument aucune idée de ce qui a compté ou pas, je sais jamais quoi choisir, je sais pas ce que donnent les réponses neutres, si ça tombe direct dans la case aengel ou s’il y aura une fin neutre, je sais que j’ai donné des réponses positives parce que c’était ce qui correspondait à ma façon de jouer l’histoire, mais j’ai quand même l’impression d’avoir aussi donné beaucoup de réponses neutres ou négatives, et pourtant je crois que je suis toujours sur la route d’aengel, en tout cas dans la scène de la forêt avec Papounet elle mobilise la lumière des aengels même si elle pense toujours à tuer son daron. Du coup voilà je suis bien embêtée de n’avoir aucun début d’idée de ce qui rentre en compte dans cette mécanique, je sais que c’est bien pour la surprise et tout ça, mais maintenant que tout le monde a compris que cette mécanique est là et qu’on aura probablement une fin différente en fonction des pouvoirs utilisés, j’aurais bien aimé que ce soit un peu plus clair. Et non, je ferai pas de replay.

Les temps sont durs et j’ai pas assez d’économies :’(

Pour en revenir à nos moutons, on disait donc qu’Erika ne croit pas un traître mot de ce que dit Papounet, et alors qu’il essaie de s’enfuir, elle le plaque contre un arbre avec sa lumière magique et lui met son épée sous la gorge. Je suis bien contente qu’elle ne le tue pas ainsi, parce que si on avait eu une phrase du style « j’enfonçai [nom de l’épée] dans la chair de mon père, » moi qui ai nommé mon épée du doux nom de MonZizi (ainsi que d’autres personnes avec des noms similaires, on se sait), j’aurais été un peu mal à l’aise :’) Heureusement, kicéki arrive pour empêcher Erika de faire le pire ? Notre ami Lance ! Qui de mieux placé pour lui faire la leçon sur le fait de tuer un membre de sa famille que celui qui a tué son frère Valkyky ? C’est un bon passage et un bon discours. Mais comme cela a déjà été souligné, cette scène arrive beaucoup trop tard. C’est bien avant qu’il aurait dû parler de Valkyon, surtout si on l’a en CDC et/ou qu’on a eu Valkyky en CDC. Je vais pas refaire un laïus sur pourquoi c’est n’importe quoi que cette scène arrive deux épisodes avant la fin, on le répète depuis l’épisode 3… Par contre j’ai juste pas compris l’histoire de remplacer le plus grand protecteur de la Garde machin mdr, je sais pas si c’est moi qui suis trop tatillonne mais on dirait une excuse parce que « on sait pas trop ce qui justifiait de remettre Lance dans la Garde alors qu’on en avait pas encore besoin du coup on dit ça. » La bataille est terminée, il est temps de faire le bilan. Erika découvre, horrifiée, que Feng Zifu aka Cif aka Cifounet a été tué. Premièrement, je tiens à dire que la fausse promesse de nous faire comprendre que Karenn a été touchée dès la première salve de tirs pour ensuite briser nos espoirs et nous annoncer que non ça va elle est vivante, c’était d’une cruauté inhumaine 😠 Deuxièmement, je trouve ce choix de mort très curieux, surtout la façon dont ça a été fait, et j’aimerais développer un peu.

Je sais pas trop par quel bout commencer lol Déjà, d’un point de vue purement rédactionnel : y’a pas vraiment de set up/pay off. On s’est beaucoup focus sur Feng Zifu durant l’épisode, sans doute pour présager de sa mort à venir, mais ça a surtout été centré sur sa relation avec Karuto, qui n’a jamais été développée, du coup on se retrouve juste avec une scène chelou où faut les forcer à cuisiner ensemble le jour d’une réception (avec 15 personnes mais quand même lol), alors que le cuisinier aura autre chose à faire, une danse ensemble durant le mariage pour compenser le bal où Karuto n’avait pas osé l’inviter et… Pouf, le soufflé retombe. Ces scènes avec Karuto ont pas servi à grand-chose pour faire monter la tension et l’émotion à la mort de Cif, et ce pour plusieurs raisons. Premièrement, Cif c’est un perso qu’on connaît bien maintenant, on l’a vu assez souvent ces derniers épisodes, on sait qu’il était souffrant, mais aussi très inquiet pour Hua, on a eu de grandes discussions avec lui, bref, Erika s’est rapprochée de lui ces derniers temps, et en vrai pour moi ça suffisait pour causer de la surprise et du choc. Pour le coup je m’attendais pas à ce que ce soit lui qui meure, je penchais vraiment pour Karenn, et je pense que c’était fait exprès. Mais du coup nos récentes interactions avec lui me semblaient suffisantes pour créer cet attachement plus fort à un personnage destiné à mourir bientôt. (Après, on va pas se mentir, Feng Zifu il finit son rôle dans l’histoire plutôt tranquilou ; je crois que quelqu’un l’a évoqué plus haut, mais Cif était plus ou moins mourant, et même sans la maladie il était bien âgé, et puis il n’avait plus vraiment de but à accomplir dans l’histoire à part coller aux basques de Hua qui ne semble plus avoir vraiment besoin de lui, du coup il pouvait partir en paix, si je puis dire.) Deuxièmement, la relation entre Karuto et Cif n’a jamais été développée. On a eu une ou deux fois en saison 1 Karuto qui rougit comme une collégienne d’anime à la vue de Feng Zifu, pareil en saison 2, plus le bal et maintenant cet épisode. C’est tout. C’est comme le reste, hein, c’est pas parce que vous casez dans un seul épisode tout ce que vous n’avez jamais casé à temps dans l’histoire que ça rend soudainement l’arc complet et la relation cohérente. Du coup mettre ces scènes avec probablement l’intention de créer du build-up avant le coup de massue du meurtre de Cif ça sert pas à grand-chose, parce qu’on les aura plus vus interagir dans cet épisode que dans tout le reste du jeu, et comme beaucoup de choses dans cette histoire, ça arrive trop tard. Si vous vouliez créer du drame avec un couple ou potentiel couple séparé par la mort, bah déso mais ça aurait été plus efficace si la victime avait effectivement été Karenn (je vous promets je dis pas ça uniquement parce que je la déteste mdrrr), vu comment les deux là ils nous ont cassé les oreilles avec le blabla de « et avec tout ce qui se passe » ; « et si on devait mourir demain » ; « et je te fais la promesse de » etc. Au moins on connaît leur attachement, on le voit depuis un moment, leur relation est plus établie et développée que celle d’Erika et de son CDC ne le sera jamais faut croire, l’épisode était centré sur eux, ils venaient de se marier, bref, la recette était réunie pour que ce soit l’un des deux qui meure. Alors ouais au moins c’est un trope usé jusqu’à la corde en moins au palmarès d’Eldarya, mais si c’est pour le remplacer par une relation plus frustrante qu’autre chose, est-ce que ça valait vraiment le coup ? (En vrai en voyant que c’était Feng Zifu qui était tué et comment on avait insisté avec Karuto, je me suis dit « ptn si ça se trouve il est mort en protégeant Karuto c’est tellement cliché que ça m’étonnerait pas » mdr)

On s’habitue à certains schémas que voulez-vous

D’autant plus que Karuto a zéro réaction ?? C’est assez incompréhensible. Certes, on ne voit pas grand monde avoir une grosse réaction, même Hua, mais Karuto est censé être le mec transi d’amour et d’admiration pour Cif, il y a eu exprès deux scènes de rapprochement et on le voit pas dire un mot ni même avoir la moindre réaction, à part son visage triste aux côtés des fenghuangs et de Ewe au moment où Erika découvre le corps. Même quand Erika fait le tour du QG, pourquoi on le croise pas au cerisier près du cercueil, ou dans un autre endroit si on choisit de ne pas aller là-bas, pour au moins savoir comment il vit la chose et clôturer ce pseudo-arc d’un épisode entre ces deux personnages ? Tout ça pour dire que ça a pas servi à grand-chose de se réveiller à cet épisode pour les faire se rapprocher un peu si c’est pour même pas donner une fin concluante à leur relation, d’une manière ou d’une autre. Et enfin, ce choix scénaristique me pose un dernier problème. Si vous savez comment je fonctionne et quelles sont les causes qui m’animent, vous aurez peut-être senti le truc venir, et vous trouverez peut-être que c’est moi qui cherche trop la petite bête, mais je vais développer quand même. Tout le monde ici a conscience que Beemoov ne sait écrire ni les personnages LGBT+, ni les relations homosexuelles. On a vu Alexy, la route de Priya, Ewe et Hua (je n’ai pas joué à Uncoven et n’ai pas essayé les routes de Moonlight Lovers avec les persos féminins, mais je n’ai honnêtement aucun espoir étant donné le passif de la boîte et de ce que j’ai joué de ML). Et qui vient se rajouter à la liste des persos gays, ou en tout cas en potentielle relation homosexuelle, qui auront été gâchés ? Karuto et Cif ! J’ai jamais caché que je voulais plus voir de persos LGBT+ tant que Beemoov aurait pas appris à mieux les écrire, quitte à engager des sensitivity readers ou laisser le taf à des personnes LGBT+ (ou les deux, hein, on juge pas). Karuto était déjà là, avec son crush sur Cif, donc voilà, mais il n’a même pas eu droit à un traitement correct, alors même que ledit crush n’a été vraiment exploré qu’à cet épisode, on le rappelle. Parce que bon si on résume la situation, on a un homme, potentiellement gay, qui a crush sur un autre homme pendant S E P T années sans jamais rien dire et donc a certainement dû souffrir en silence, on apprend qu’il a failli se marier mais que quelque chose l’en a empêché, on saura sûrement jamais si c’était avec un autre homme mais c’est pas à exclure, et là qu’il arrive enfin à avoir des moments romantiques avec son crush, BAM ce dernier se fait dézinguer. C’est la joie. Alors que pour changer des jolies lesbiennes qu’on regarde se bécoter dans les couloirs ou des jeunes gays efféminés qui adorent le saiks n’est-ce pas, vous auriez pu nous donner le couple d’hommes plus âgés qui a une chance de vivre sa vie pépouze ou presque et d’avoir une fin qui n’est pas dramatique, contrairement à beaucoup de couples gays dans les médias ?

Rendez les p’tits vieux gays qui font pleurer des bonnes larmes

Ça aurait été l’occasion de contrebalancer le fiasco de l’épisode 7, parce que quitte à avoir un perso homosexuel déjà présent dans l’histoire, autant en profiter pour corriger ses erreurs et l’écrire convenablement, mais ça n’a pas été fait. Et au final, je me demande si ça n’aurait pas été mieux de continuer à ne rien faire, si c’est pour qu’on se retrouve avec un Karuto qui sera malheureux en amour de A à Z, une relation développée littéralement le jour où elle se termine alors qu’ils n’auront interagi ensemble qu’une ou deux fois depuis l’épisode 11 de The Origins et une conclusion inexistante. Alors sûrement qu’à l’épisode 19 on va avoir un dialogue avec Karuto où on en parlera si assez de personnes soulèvent le problème de l’absence de réaction du satyre, ou bien c’était ce qui était prévu, sauf que bah là au 18 on se retrouve avec aucune de réaction de Karuto à part « il a l’air triste, » et on nous laisserait en plan jusqu’à l’épisode suivant ? C’est drôlement mal agencé. Alors qu’au lieu de laisser Koori nous emmerder avec ses stats sur la salle des portes ou si on avait réduit un peu le discours d’Adalric, on aurait pu au moins laisser Karuto s’exprimer sur les événements, même de façon sommaire. A la place, on a juste le trope du couple gay qui ne pourra pas avoir son happy ending. Et sachant qu’il y en aura très probablement un deuxième avec Hua qui va mourir en se sacrifiant pour le bien commun ou je sais pas quoi, je dis rien, mais j’en pense pas moins. En bref, comme d’hab’ sur la planète Eldarya, ça aurait pu être bien, mais ça n’a pas été fait.

Et finalement, pas trop le temps de s’apitoyer sur la mort du vieux fenghuang. Des templiers sont toujours dans la nature, et il faut s’occuper des blessés (on s’est souvenu dans cet épisode qu’il fallait préciser qu’il n’y a pas que les PNJ avec un visage, dans ce QG mdr). De plus, il faut interroger Papounet, afin d’en apprendre plus sur l’ennemi et ses intentions. Et c’est tout naturellement que, pour cette tâche, Hua choisit… Erika ?! Alors je suis toujours pas devenue une experte en stratégie militaire et en interrogatoires, mais est-ce vraiment brillant d’envoyer la fille du prisonnier, alors qu’elle sait pas interroger, que ça a déjà été traumatisant pour elle d’apprendre qu’il était chef de secte et que toute sa colère et son ressentiment (logiques et compréhensibles) envers un membre de sa famille, qui lui a manqué pendant tout ce temps (malgré ce qu’elle dit elle le mentionne à plusieurs reprises dans TO) et qui l’a trahie de façon horrible, ne vont pas spécialement la rendre apte à un interrogatoire ? Je sais pas je pose la question hein, mais on est un peu au niveau de Miikonne qui envoyait Erika ramasser les cendres d’Yvoni en ricanant parce qu’elle trouvait ça « cocasse. » C’est là qu’on arrive à un passage particulièrement lunaire de l’épisode. On a Mathieu et Erika, deux gugus absolument pas formés aux interrogatoires comme le sont probablement les membres de l’Ombre (et si on est dedans, m’est avis que c’est comme pour l’Absynthe, y’avait personne pour nous former mdrrr), ils sont terriblement en colère et se demandent premier degré comment ils vont se retenir de tuer Papounet, en face on a Papounet, pas coopératif pour un sou, et globalement l’échange se déroule ainsi : - Ho ho ho regardez qui voilà ! - T’as pas utilisé la bonne conjugaison lol [en fait si wtf] - Et toi tu me tutoies maintenant mdr t’es pas poli - Et toi t’es pas libre ptdr j’t’ai casséééééé bref dis-nous ce que tu sais - Pk je ferais ça exactement ? - Paske t foutu honhon qu’est-ce que t’as à perdre - Hinhin t’aimerais bien le savoir huhuhu - Tg ou je te bute - M’en fous j’suis déjà mort le monde va disparaître, même si vous m’affamez j’aurai pas le temps d’en crever - On fait pas ça chez nous tu dois confondre avec tes méthodes POPOPOOOOO - Bouhou je sais méchant lama mais chez vous aussi y’a des cellules ET BIM - Ouais mais nous elles sont vides et c’est pas nous qui les avons faites REP A SA bref dis-nous ce qu’on veut savoir - Vous m’avez rien demandé - Si moi j’ai dit « dis-nous tout ce que tu sais » ce qui est EXTRÊMEMENT PRÉCIS pour un interrogatoire - Ok alors je sais que 1+1=2 PTDR JE SUIS DRAUL - Eh j’en ai marre de toi là t’as jamais été là durant mon enfance et t’as jamais essayé de me retrouver* et maintenant tu veux tout casser dans ma nouvelle maison donc tu redescends et tu réponds aux questions qu’on a pas posées sinon je te défonce - De toute vous pouvez me zigouiller on me remplacera, mais comme je te l’ai dit le monde va disparaître parce qu’on a fait les cons mdr oupsie *C’est littéralement en cherchant Erika qu’il a découvert l’existence de l’Ordre du Temple du Jardin des Anciens ????? C’est en cherchant si d’autres personnes avaient vécu la même chose que lui qu’il a trouvé l’histoire du moine et du fermier ????????? Elle était là quand il l’a dit et y’a zéro raison pour qu’il mente sur ce point, au contraire ????????????????

J’me disais ça faisait longtemps qu’elle avait pas eu de problèmes de mémoire.

C’est après cet échange stratosphérique qu’on finit enfin par apprendre quelque chose d’intéressant : la commanderie de Papounet est à l’origine des ouvertures chelou dans l’espace-temps, la frontière entre les mondes est trop abîmée et c’est probablement pour ça qu’on se retrouve avec des immeubles à Genkaku ou des ouvertures près du cercle de champignons. Je sais pas trop si ça explique les fenghuangs qui s’affaiblissent, le mal des vampires, les familiers qui go berserk ou le cycle jour/nuit qui s’agite, mais voilà. Tout ça pour que le maana s’écoule dans ces failles, entraînant Eldarya avec lui (mince je croyais que c’était Hua qui entraînerait Eldarya dans sa chute faudrait savoir), mais on pourra même pas s’en servir. C’est ballot. Il nous apprend enfin que la raison de cette dernière attaque était de sauver Erika. Et malgré le fait qu’il dise qu’il n’aurait pas dû faire cette attaque, sans doute parce qu’ils auront coupé le dernier fil qui maintenait Eldarya en place, je pense qu’il est sincère. Il voulait vraiment épargner sa fille. C’est pour ça aussi que je le crois quand il dit qu’il a cherché à savoir ce qui lui était arrivé après sa disparition. Maintenant, comme on l’a vu plus tôt, c’était d’une stupidité sans nom d’attaquer la Garde dans le but de récupérer sa fille. Parfois je me dis qu’on sait de qui elle tient son idiotie. Mathieu et Erika décident qu’ils en savent assez… Alors qu’il y aurait au moins 256 autres questions à poser ??? Combien d’hommes exactement avait-il envoyés pour cette mission ? Comment fonctionne la commanderie ? L’Ordre ? Que comptait-il faire exactement du maana ? Que sait-il de ses effets sur Terre ? Il a aussi dit à l’épisode 13 que la Garde mentait à Erika sur ses pouvoirs, que voulait-il dire par là ? Quelles infos a-t-il pu tirer de Leiftan ? Tellement de possibilités, en plus il commençait enfin à être coopératif et à répondre sérieusement, peut-être même à s’adoucir, je dirais, c’était le moment de creuser ?? Bon bah non, alors.

Nous allons raconter notre entrevue au Conseil : nous avons donc « appris » que l’Ordre est plus grand que la simple commanderie de Papounet (non, sans déconner ??) et qu’Eldarya va disparaître et être fusionnée avec la Terre… C’est pas un truc qu’on sait depuis qu’on a vu le sous-titre de la saison pour la première fois et dont les persos se doutent depuis littéralement l’épisode 2 ??? Bon bah maintenant qu’on est sûrs grâce à l’ennemi numéro 1 du moment et qu’on lie ces infos aux visions d’Erika, préparons-nous. Le plan est simple : on passe par les portails. Sauf que ça ferait beaucoup de monde pour les portails, en plus « on a déjà du mal à ouvrir des portails de la taille d’une trappe ! » Alors y’a plusieurs choses qui vont pas là-dedans. Déjà, qu’est-ce que Chù nous parle d’un portail de la taille d’une trappe quand celui qu’elle a ouvert à l’épisode 10 c’était une énorme arche mystico-chelou qui laissait largement passer une personne baraquée comme Lance ? Si c’est si difficile, pourquoi elle a pas fait une grosse trappe au lieu d’une giga-porte ? Et encore une fois, c’est passé où cette histoire de portail scellé dans le QG dont on nous parle à l’épisode 15 de TO ?? Ensuite, c’est évident que les autres peuples ont leur(s) propre(s) portail(s) : on rappelle qu’ils ont dû se nourrir via des ressources chipées ou échangées à la Terre pendant 600 ans. C’est quoi l’intérêt de leur dire de venir, à moins qu’ils aient scellé leurs portails depuis TO ? Alors que les émissaires de la Garde pourraient juste annoncer la prophétie, les aider éventuellement pour l’ouverture et sayonara on y va ? Parce qu’enfin, le dernier problème, c’est le trajet. Papounet il a bien dit que c’était une question de quelques jours à peine. Quelques jours, c’est à peine le temps qu’il faut pour aller à Balenvia, je parle même pas du temple fenghuang, c’est pareil pour l’île kappa, c’est pareil pour Genkaku, c’est pareil pour Yaqut. Je parle même pas des autres peuples, on sait qu’il y en a, on en parle de temps en temps, mais on y est jamais allé, j’ose même pas imaginer les distances, et en fait je le peux pas puisqu’on a jamais eu de carte digne de ce nom, même des jeux de collection de créatures ont une carte plus étoffée, nous on a des lieux qu’on peut même pas relier entre eux…

Toujours en train d’essayer de comprendre ce qui relie Balenvia et le temple fenghuang

Bref, c’est loin, alors le temps de faire l’aller retour, Eldarya aura eu le temps de disparaître trois fois. Le Conseil vote à l’unanimité pour tenter l’exode vers la Terre, et Hua coordonne tout son petit monde pour que chacun-e ait quelque chose à faire. Et miracle ! Erika ne se tourne pas les pouces pendant 4 jours à défoncer son oreiller parce qu’elle stresse, elle a même une mission en rapport avec sa garde, alléluia ! On se permet même la réplique « j’étais la seule à n’avoir reçu presque aucune formation, » comme quoi vous savez prendre en compte des remarques qui vous sont faites, ça serait bien aussi d’anticiper sur des choses pourtant si simples. Après, ces quatre jours auraient mérité d’être plus explicités. On a perdu trois épisodes avec Yaqut et la préparation du mariage, alors qu’on aurait pu en économiser au moins un, qui aurait servi à étoffer un peu ce qui se passe juste avant l’apocalypse : une discussion avec Karuto, Erika qui se débat avec ses sentiments pour son père (les sentiments envers un parent absent, violent ou haut placé dans une secte chelou, c’est très complexe), développer la relation entre Erika et le CDC au lieu d’une simple phrase sur « exprimer nos inquiétudes nous aidait à les combattre. » C’est quoi leurs inquiétudes ? Est-ce qu’ils se font des promesses comme Karenn et Chrome ? Il est où leur rapprochement de fin du monde ? La romance dans une situation de catastrophe imminente ? Moi je me contente pas d’un vague dialogue en début d’épisode, qu’est-ce qu’ils partagent, de quoi ils ont peur, qu’est-ce qu’ils s’imaginent pour se rassurer, un milliard de possibilités, mais non, on a perdu un épisode à faire un méchant idiot au possible, un épisode à se moquer de lui, à vaguement dire que les fenghuangs vont mal mais ça va on a une potion alors osef et un épisode à « préparer » une soirée où on a au final rien fait, et maintenant, alors qu’on aurait pu aborder plein de points intéressants sur ces quatre jours décisifs, on a juste « pendant 4 jours j’ai fait la vaisselle de l’Absynthe, j’ai dormi avec Mathieu et on a échangé sur nos inquiétudes. » Et le soir du 4ème jour, alors que Hua fait le bilan, elle est pliée en deux par la douleur. Alors que tout le monde se demande ce qui se passe, Chù débarque en paniqu– Attendez, qu’est-ce qu’elle fout là ? C’est acté dans The Origins que le voyage jusqu’à Balenvia dure au moins deux ou trois jours, et elle allait jusqu’au temple fenghuang, qui est plus loin, les mecs ils ont vraiment la téléportation en fait, c’est pas possible autrement… Bref, elle panique parce que la forêt a disparu. Et lorsque nous la suivons hors du QG, le couperet tombe : la faille des visions d’Erika est bien là, et elle a commencé à manger Eldarya. Fin de l’épisode !!

Et ben, ça faisait longtemps que j’avais pas écrit autant pour un avis :’) Ce n’est pas un mauvais épisode en soi. Il y a de bons dialogues, pas trop de longueurs et on reprend enfin le cours de l’histoire. Après, on va pas se le cacher, c’est facile de trouver un épisode bon après les trois derniers qu’on vient d’avoir. Parce que malgré tout, on se retrouve quand même avec de gros problèmes. La cohérence : j’aimerais sincèrement savoir si vous avez quelque part des notes sur le déroulé de The Origins et si la méthode d’écriture des épisodes consiste à relire les précédents, même récents. J’ai vraiment l’impression que ce n’est pas le cas, que vous y allez comme ça vous chante en oubliant que vos lecteurs/ices ont parfois noté beaucoup plus de choses que vous, soit pour leurs fanfics, soit parce qu’elles ont de la mémoire, soit parce qu’elles ont des archives de leurs propres avis auxquelles elles peuvent se référer pour écrire des avis aussi complets que possible (c mwa). Et du coup on se retrouve avec un univers décousu, tout comme l’histoire, qui en plus se retrouve remplie de clichés. Cet épisode en est un parfait exemple, entre les portails, le mariage interrompu par les méchants, l’attaque absolument pas préparée… L’homophobie latente chez Beemoov : alors oui c’est un mot qui va pas plaire mais il faut bien dire les choses, au bout d’un moment. On nous fait miroiter un couple homo au lieu d’en faire vraiment quelque chose, puis on casse tout espoir en tuant l’un des deux, faisant du deuxième l’archétype du personnage gay/potentiellement gay qui n’aura jamais sa fin heureuse alors qu’il a l’air d’avoir déjà bien galéré avant, et on sait que ça va être pareil pour Hua et Ewe : c’est quasiment certain que Hua ne va pas survivre au cataclysme, du coup au lieu d’essayer de réparer les erreurs passées, ou au pire de garder le statu quo en attendant de pouvoir faire mieux, vous empirez les choses. Le développement de l’histoire : c’est ce que je disais plus haut dans cet avis, vous préférez en faire des caisses sur des choses qui sont pas spécialement intéressantes ou qui n’ont pas besoin qu’on passe autant de temps dessus (la confection des vêtements terriens, le McDo, Orgelz, l’enterrement de vie de jeune fille/garçon, etc), et c’est fait au détriment d’éléments plus importants de l’histoire, en particulier la relation entre Erika et le CDC. Il va falloir arrêter de présenter Eldarya comme un jeu de romance, ce n’est plus un jeu de romance, c’est un jeu d’aventures. Et c’est pas une mauvaise chose, hein, mais si vous présentez votre jeu comme un jeu de romance, alors la romance doit avoir une place un minimum importante. Ce n’est pas le cas ici, et en vrai c’est à peine si ça l’a vraiment été. Et quand bien même Eldarya serait présenté comme un jeu d’aventures, on est en droit d’attendre le développement de l’histoire d’amour entre l’héroïne et son partenaire, surtout quand des PNJ ont une histoire plus étoffée… Les dialogues : outre le fonctionnement énigmatique de l’alignement aengel/daemon, il faut aussi être clair sur le résultat des différents choix de dialogue. Pour reprendre l’exemple de Cif dans les escaliers, on sait qu’il est très pointilleux sur la politesse, du coup il n’y a rien d’illogique à s’incliner si l’on souhaite être poli-e avec lui, c’est donc pour le moins surprenant que ce soit en fait la réponse négative. Ce serait bien qu’on ait pas à faire trois fois le tour de notre cerveau avant de choisir en se demandant si ça va pas avoir une conséquence qui n’a rien à voir avec la réplique. Pas non plus besoin d’avoir un choix hyper explicite positif/neutre/négatif, juste que la réaction ait un minimum de logique par rapport au choix, quoi. Les illustrations : je ne joue pas aux épisodes pour avoir une illu d’event. C’est déjà un peu gavant de n’avoir que des illus de groupe dans les events, ça m’intéresse pas d’en retrouver dans les épisodes. De plus, les visages des personnages ne sont jamais les mêmes d’une illu à l’autre, et je crois que c’est un souci qui a pas mal été soulevé déjà. Et il y a toujours des problèmes de perspective et d’anatomie. Rien à voir mais le problème de la musique est toujours présent… Pour conclure, oui c’est un bon épisode par rapport aux trois derniers et il se passe des choses intéressantes, heureusement. Ça a fait du bien. Mais il est gangrené par les travers habituels qui gâchent un peu la reprise de l’action et l’entrée dans le dernier arc de la saison. Reste plus qu’à savoir comment vont se dérouler les derniers épisodes, en vrai je me demande comment ils vont se dépatouiller. Je sais pas à quoi je m’attends, peut-être que finalement les faëries et les humains vont finir par s’allier dans une union fraternelle destinée à sauver ensemble la planète contre un ennemi commun, je sais pas, on verra bien. Allez, bonne journée, et bravo si vous avez tout lu x)

[the-sound-of-her-wings]

Was someone gonna tell me that there is a 1 million word figure skating RPF with yuzu and shoma on AO3 or was I supposed to just find it while I scrolled through all AO3 fics by word count.

[mycenaae]

having a lot of fun with this fic through the medium of writing approximately seventy million very short chapters and also alternating pov's partway through the chapters as well. it feels very early 2000's but it also feels Correct to the source material

[nontrivialproof]

Submitted my last English paper ever. Please clap.

[britishchick09]

i changed the rewrite margins and it's a lot better now! :D