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Violet Evergarden Gaiden: Chapter 6

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The Postal Company and the Auto-Memories Doll

The current times were labeled as the era of postal business flood.

Within a continent that congregated small countries, the people who operated in the mail industry competed ruthlessly against one another. Putting it very simply, the situation of postal companies throughout the continent was of stealing each other’s customers.

Clients chose their mail agency of use and requested deliveries on their own. The reasons for the choices would be fees, deliverable areas, and of course, even the postmen’s degree of courtesy was a subject of deliberation. Taking all of those into account, they would pick one postal company from somewhere.

At present, as the management structure of postal corporations was becoming devoted to carrying the side-business of amanuensis “Auto-Memories Dolls” rather than only delivering mailed items, others were unable to establish a position in the market if their work leaned towards the latter. The more the competition increased, the more obvious the differences in services would become, and, as the superior and inferior ones would grow evident, the losing side would inevitably close down their company.

Within such harsh rivalry, in a certain country named Leidenschaftlich, located in the continent’s southern coast, there was a postal agency so-called CH Postal Service had boomed its name throughout the industry. Although it was a newly introduced company that had but a few years since being founded, its reputation was exceptional. The degree of customer satisfaction was high, and there was abundance of re-users.

On a general view, there were two motives behind its good results.

The first one was that the CH Postal Service had no restrictions to its areas of delivery. Should a client desire, it would deliver to any part of the globe. Of course, fees were imposed for remote places, yet that was the first attempt in the industry of pulling such a feat. Even existing postal agencies disputing for a leading position in the industry had determined delivery areas. The CH Postal Service delivered even to regions of conflict, therefore being a great help for customers whose family members or lovers found themselves in battlegrounds. Its patrons increasing in numbers was something logical. However, succeeding in doing such a thing as though it were extremely natural was terribly difficult for ordinary companies. The CH Postal Service was in condition to go anywhere for a client’s sake, as it had assembled the personnel and system capable of making it possible – therefore, it had managed to do so.

The second reason was that there existed a top star in CH Postal Service, who had come into sight in the Auto-Memories Doll business like a comet. Seeing her walk around the city would cause people to do double takes at her looks, and hearing her voice would paint their cheeks red out of fascination. She was a perfect beauty that seemed to have come out of a mythological legend. As of late, a play that the famous dramatist Oscar had written using her image had been announced and gained popularity, making her renowned even outside of the industry as per synergy.

People probably envisioned just what type of woman she was. Mostly, their expectations were betrayed in good ways. She was a woman that surpassed the categorical components of imagination.

Her name was Violet Evergarden.

The largest trading place of the continent was a port that served as a gate from and to the sea. It was a national interest of Leidenschaftlich’s, as well as a trigger for wars. Countless other countries had attempted to invade it, seeking its abundant resources and a privileged location.

Although the city was at financial ease with the prosperity of its economy, scars of old battles remained in some places. The symbols of long military service from the past had not been etched solely in protection walls or stone-paved roads. It could be said that the fountain built in the capital Leiden during the celebration of Leidenschaftlich’s hundredth anniversary was its most well-known marking.

Consisting of a total of nine goddess statues holding water vases on their shoulders, it worked in a way that groundwater poured out them. Despite it being a gem made by a nationally employed artist, the goddesses had their necks chopped off. It remained unfixed, for the sake of not letting anyone forget Leidenschaftlich’s disgrace in authorizing the invasion of another country’s castle town.

In spite of being a major commercial nation, it was a military state. There were armed soldiers amidst the lively cityscapes even during times of peace.

The members of the CH Postal Company had such country as their home.

“Oh, what’cha doing?”

“My.”

“It has been a while.”

Under a beautiful autumn sky, a group that rarely gathered met in front of the headless goddesses’ fountain. They were two women and one man.

“If it isn’t Cattleya and V. Have you come out to welcome the great me, unable to wait for my return?”

Leaving his motorcycle parked by the roadside and heartily eating grilled chicken was a postman clad in a glass-green shirt. His slender boots of cross-shaped heels gave out a devious sex appeal. Hidden behind sandy-blond hair, his light blue eyes were provocative. His unmanly, soft facial features were not gentle. It was Benedict Blue, who worked at the CH Postal Company.

“What’re you saying? I’m gonna ask again: what’re you saying? T-There’s no way I’d come pick you up! I just went out shopping as an errand for my beloved President. Violet, say something too. To this platform shoes man. Nobody called for you.”

The one who spoke as if to smooth things over with a moody voice was a beautiful woman of gracefully wavy dark hair. She had amethyst eyes and an hourglass shape. Brimming with enough sensuality to enslave the opposite sex, her body was enveloped in a carmine dress-coat with a waist ribbon, yet was about to burst out of it. She was Cattleya Baudelaire, who also worked at the CH Postal Company.

“You two, you are being too loud out in the street.”

Reproaching the duo with a voice of silver bells was an elegantly beautiful girl dressed up like a porcelain doll. Said person had a hairband made of embroidery lace sitting on her hair as it spread out in waves and was wearing a one-piece with plenty of such lace sewn to it, along with a chiffon trench coat.

“V.”

“Violet.”

She was Violet Evergarden, the top Auto-Memories Doll of the CH Postal Company, whose blue eyes enthralled those who looked at them, as did the emerald-green brooch sitting on her chest.

Benedict and Cattleya turned toward Violet, changing the addressee of their impressions in unison.

“What’s up with you?”

“Really, Violet, you’re pretty fired-up. You’re letting your hair down? Are you on a date?”

Pressed on by the two, the Auto-Memories Doll that the CH Postal Company had pride in, Violet Evergarden, cast her gaze to the ground. “Lady Tiffany... someone from my home arranged everything, but is it that strange?” Her voice sounded slightly embarrassed.

Cattleya observed Violet with a gentle look. “It’s not strange. You’re cute enough not to lose to me. Are you going to see the major?”

“Yes. It is still early for the meeting time, so I was going to buy a book for me to bring along.”

“That’s great; you’re looking forward to it, huh! Hey, she doesn’t look weird, right, Benedict?” Cattleya rejoiced without restraint.

“Tch,” Benedict clicked his tongue.

It had truly been a long while since the three of them had last gathered. That was only natural. At the CH Postal Company, everyone worked industriously every day. There were sporadic occasions in which they would be grouped on duty, but that was only when they managed to miraculously coordinate their schedules. They were mates who had been hired by their president at about the same time, so to say.

Benedict threw away the bones of the meat he had just eaten onto the road, peeking at Violet’s face while licking off the oil remaining on his hand. “Hu~n, well, isn’t it fine? Nice work.”

Although their faces were close, Violet stared back at him with her huge orbs without bending backwards.

Benedict flatly thrust a fingertip at her forehead in-between one big eye and another. “But the one who gets to walk you around gotta be me. As your older brother part, I can’t accept my little sister part getting eaten down by an old man. I’m better. ‘Cause I’m young and cool.”

It could be said that someone who had the nerve to say such a thing so imposingly was quite a rare type even amongst humanity.

With an aspect of irritation, Cattleya interjected, “A third party is gonna be telling you this, but Mr. Gilbert is super wonderful, is an adult man and I know Violet’s head-over-heels for him, so you’re the one who’s uncalled-for here!”

“What does ‘head-over-heels’ mean?” Violet immediately reacted to the term she was unused to hearing.

“It’s like being obsessed. Didn’t you say that the major was the only one for you?”

“I did say that, indeed.” Her brows furrowed as if she were troubled, her blue eyes slightly moist. She was most likely “embarrassed”. Perhaps becoming unable to say anything else, Violet wound up turning her face away.

The feeling of affection for that awkward girl, the envy towards her happiness and the complicated emotions from having a friend taken away by a man traveled across Benedict and Cattleya’s minds. Therefore, in order to dismiss it all, the two silently decided to ball their fists, pushing and kicking Violet left and right.

“Shit. Don’t go acting cute. You’re just a battlefield maniac.”

“Really, it pisses me off. You’re as strong as a bear! But you’re adorable.”

Perhaps not feeling any pain, or perhaps trying to figure out how to deal with such a situation, she resigned quietly and accepted the unwarranted violence. As seen from the sidelines, it looked like something close to bullying, but Violet was actually the one with highest combat capacity amongst them. When the physical strength of the three was put together, that sort of thing was no more than playing around.

“Listen, don’t let him touch you carelessly, all right? This is amazing, though. You’re like a fluffy dog. Cattleya, you try touching too.”

“Hey, don’t you go carelessly touching her with those hands either! Even the insolence of getting meat juices on a maiden’s hair has a limit! Stop it!”

“It’s fine, ain’t it? It’s not like I just got outta the toilet.”

“Eh, does that mean... you never wash your hands!? Right? That’s what it is, right? No waaay! Violet, hey, come here. Benedict, don’t you get near us! It’s my turf from beyond this point! I’ll beat the hell out of you for territory violation if you come over!”

As Cattleya swung her legs, enveloped in Suède boots, to draw a line on the ground, Benedict opposed to it in a level as low as the next person, not losing to her. He picked a dead branch from the root of a roadside tree and did the same as she had. “Haah~? Then I’ll make everything beyond this point into my turf! Speaking of which, the way to your beloved president’s head office is behind me, so don’t you go back to it either!”

“Ah~, that’s unfair! It’s. Not. Fair!”

“It’s not unfair~! You’re the one who came up with it first~!”

It was a child-like action for members of society to take. Violet, the youngest one, regarded them with interest as if she were watching a dispute between animals of a new species.

That was a short-lived period of peace before an uproar occurred.

At the same moment, in the same country, within the same city, time flowed peacefully inside the head office of the CH Postal Company, nobody aware of the nightmare that would approach them a few minutes later.

The business firm was erected in an alley away from the main street, projecting itself in the very sense of the word over rows of small shops. It consisted of a spire with a light green, dome-shaped roof and a weathercock on display, a deep green roof that spread out as if to surround said spire, and outer walls made of red bricks that had been sunburned into a tasteful color. The iron plate on the arch-shaped front gate made known the name of the company with letters printed in gold.

Should one open the door, a cheerful-sounding bell would announce the arrival of a customer. Upon coming in, one would soon find the counter, which was the sector where the reception of postal items took place. The building had three floors, with the first being the reception desk, the second being the office and the spire in the third one being the president’s residence.

No matter how far it was from the main street, the building was quite expensive. Its owner – an individual referred by the members of the CH Postal Company as “President” and “Old Man” – was drinking black tea with brandy at a balcony that had an unbroken view of the city.

“I’m so brilliant that it’s scary.”

He was a lady-killer good-looking enough to display self-indulgent behavior. His age was around the thirties. He had droopy grayish blue eyes, red hair grown slightly long, a manly build, and although he was not young, he had soft facial traits that exuded sophisticated simplicity. His appearance seemed to earn the envy and jealousy from other men of the same generation as him. His leather boots shone lustrously without a single stain, polished perhaps out of obsession.

“President Hodgins!”

The one who had yelled into the room was a girl of innocent features. She was the possessor of velvety, evenly cut lavender-gray hair that stopped above her shoulders. She had large eyes, a small head and a petite body. It was still the physique of a young child, but the heterochromatic orbs from behind the glasses she wore bore a stunning suspiciousness that was mysterious even. She was a person who the word “lovely” fit perfectly.

“Please say so after you’ve finished work!”

However, her conduct had presence as the secretary of a self-centered chairman.

Hodgins retorted mildly, “Little Lux, what I need right now isn’t brutal working hours but relaxation time feeling the gentle autumn air and drinking tea.”

“Even if you say that with a nice voice, it sounds like nothing but running away from reality! Please; if you at least put the stamps, I’ll bring you as many cups of tea as you want! Tomorrow is the deadline! We have to clear up most papers today and submit to the concerned parties in lots of places tomorrow! It’s the Flying Letters all over again!”

“You’re already my Miss Secretary through and through. I’m so happy. You used to look like a scared little rabbit when you arrived here, but aren’t you a fine working lady now? This feeling that I was the one who raised you is exceptional, huh?”

“President Hodgins! Please! Take the stamp! If you hold it, I can move you to stamping it... I’ll also read out the documents to you...”

“Then, Little Lux, doesn’t it make no difference if you’re the one doing the stamping?”

“I’d do it if I could! All that’s left is the stuff that demands the president’s confirmation, so just get on with it!”

“That ordering tone with formal language coming from a teenage girl is giving me unbearable creeps... Hm, Little Lux, hey. You don’t look bad with a shirt-blouse and a long flared skirt, but why don’t you try changing your outfit? I think I’d recommend a black apron dress over a puffed sleeve shirt, black tights and red enamel shoes.”

“Please listen to what I say!” The figure that had once been worshiped as a demigoddess at the headquarters of a cultist organization was absent in Lux Sibyl – what was there instead was the figure of a half-crying subordinate attempting to convince her vain superior.

Lux had been working serious and untiringly ever since being brought over by Violet and hired into the CH Postal Company. Perhaps having incorporated a methodical personality, she was now entrusted with even the duty of president’s secretary, yet she always had a hard time with said easygoing president.

The competence that the man named Hodgins had for business was unquestionable, yet his self-amusement principles were extreme and he would not stop fooling around even when having piles of work to do. Keeping his day-by-day in check was Lux’s role. In worse times, she would have to search for him and pick him up at brothels in red-light districts.

“If you don’t put the stamps, the one who will die isn’t you, President, but myself.”

Lux was tired of it.

“No way. I’ll put the stamps. I’ll put them, I’ll put them. Don’t make such a depressed face. Little Lux, you’re too pessimistic. Also, you take everything too literally. I told you that eighty percent of the things I say are random, right? Poise yourself more at ease. Let’s enjoy everything. Even the troublesome stuff.”

“President... you seem like you’d say this even if you had a hole opened in your stomach... I’m jealous.”

“Thanks. I’m the type that grows through getting compliments.”

She had wanted to convey something that was no compliment, yet it did not turn into words as Lux wound up having her attention stolen by something else. Lux’s golden and reddish heterochromatic eyes caught a strange thing in the skies against the beautiful cityscape that was visible from the balcony.

“President Hodgins... Over there, something is...”

At the same time as she spoke, Hodgins forcefully dragged Lux’s body, held her up and jumped to the end of the room. Lux was squeezed tightly against Hodgins’s chest, not allowed to even scream or raise her voice in confusion.

A few seconds thereafter, the sound of an explosion ensued.

“Do you not hear some sort of noise?” Violet’s leveled voice eventually came between Benedict and Cattleya, who were having a scuffle fight. Her blue orbs were looking up at the sky, sighting a black object that passed by in a flash.

And it struck one of the classy buildings among the cityscape of Leiden.

“The head office is under attack!” No sooner than she said so, Violet bolted from the place. She slipped through people standing still with their mouths open, their attention taken away by the explosion sound that had reverberated through the idyllic early afternoon.

“No way, no way! Eeh?! What about the President!?”

“Get on, you idiot.”

Benedict had mounted on his bike before long. After whispering lowly, he swung a hand around Cattleya’s back, all too easily lifted her up, sat her on his knees and simultaneously turned on the engine, taking off.

“Wai—! Doing that all of a sudden is scary! It’s scaryyy!” Cattleya shouted, clinging to Benedict’s neck.

“Move! Move! Y’all are in the way!”

A young woman who was selling flower bouquets with a mobile catering fell on the spot, the horse of her carriage letting out a neigh. Ignoring the situation of the traffic in the street, Benedict rampantly chased after Violet. He gradually got closer to her figure, which had already become the size of a bean grain.

Benedict stretched out his hand. “V!”

Violet had been running at an astonishing speed, but upon hearing Benedict’s voice, she nimbly hopped onto his motorcycle. The two of them, who had a mutual understanding without the invitation of “get on”, exchanged words while paying no mind to the scandalized Cattleya.

“That sound was of Leidenschaftlich style artillery.”

“Did you see the cannonball’s firing position?”

“There is no mistake that it came flying from the west side of the city. Look, smoke is coming out of the head office’s third floor. If we suppose that it was shot from somewhere just as high, we can restrict the location, right?”

“It struck Old Man’s apartment, so there’s too many suspects.”

“How can you be so calm!? The President might’ve died!” Cattleya glared daggers at Benedict and Violet, yet the expressions that two had on were different from normal times. She quieted down without thinking.

“No way we wouldn’t be worried, right...!?” Benedict spoke even for Violet’s part.

The motorcycle that the three of them rode let out a roar while going up the slope.

Caught under a bookshelf, Hodgins was straddled over Lux with his hands so as not to squash her. Lux looked up at him, dumbfounded.

“Little Lux, you can... you can take it slow, but sneak off from under me.”

The glass of the windows had shattered and scattered all over the place. The president’s desk, which was an order-made one designed by a master craftsman, had been smashed to fragments. The carpet had turned into ember and the room was starting to envelope in flames.

“President Hodgins... I-I’m sorry!” Lux crawled out, attempting to somehow lift the shelf with her powerless arms. However, it did not even budge.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Man~, I’d been skipping push-ups lately so this is taking a toll on me... Heave-ho.”

The instant he put on strength and lifted the bookshelf all at once, he rolled away and escaped from being crushed. He was the bearer of a considerable muscle strength.

Hodgins stood up and looked around the room. The look in his eyes was no longer the earlier one of a slacker chairman.

“Sorry; you okay?” Only the gentleness in his voice was the same as always.

“Why are you apologizing, President?”

“‘Cause this was an attack aimed at me, no matter how you think of it. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give your parents.”

“I don’t have parents.”

“That’s right. Then, I wouldn’t have any excuse to give you. Now, we gotta check if the other employees are all right...”

“Anyhow, let’s go downstairs; we’ll both burn to death if we stay like this!” Making a snap decision, Lux ran to the stairs that led to the lower floor.

Planning to go down through the balcony’s emergency stairs, Hodgins desperately called out to her, “Little Lux! Wait up!”

However, before Lux flew out the door, it opened automatically. Hodgins saw a brusque arm stretching before his eyes and taking ahold of Lux. She was dragged into the darkness and her frame disappeared.

“Little Lux...?”

By the moment that Lux reappeared before Hodgins, whose lips twitched, there was as a muzzle aimed at her temple. The one who pushed her forward while holding onto her shoulder was a man clad in a completely black suit. Six other men dressed the same way revealed themselves in succession. Hodgins’s gaze gradually became grimmer.

“How do you do, Claudia Hodgins?” The man referred to Hodgins by the name that he made sure not to call himself by. It was the name his parents had come up with while convinced that he was going to be born a girl.

Breaking into a distorted smile, Hodgins replied, “You’re truly one refreshing shitface, Salvatore Ridaudo.”

Salvatore smiled sarcastically as well. His hair was fixed with balm to the point there was not a single disheveled thread. He was the possessor of wood-brown droopy eyes, thick lips and skin as pale as wax.

“So, what is it you wanna do by shooting a cannonball into my office and thrusting a gun at my secretary?”

“My, good job figuring out that it was our doing.”

“I have a rough idea of it, but can’t you tell me… Mr. President of the Salvatore Postal Company? All that comes to me is that my academic background in the Military School was below yours.”

“How modest... What are you, an up-and-coming entrepreneur whose name everyone knows in the mail business nowadays, talking about? It’s very obvious what I’m after, right? The Salvatore Postal Company and the CH Postal Company. Two agencies competing for deployment in Leidenschaftlich. The fact that the other party is a nuisance certainly applies to you too, but I’m the one who’s been in this industry for the longest time. I can’t contain my frustration. Your way of doing things is... Anyway, I want you to obediently come with us. I wish to have a talk at a quiet place. If you do that, we’ll go home without inflicting a single injury on this cute lady and the rest of the employees.”

For someone running a postal firm, he was a disturbing individual. Calling him an underground chief would be more frankly agreeable. The men in all-black under his control did not seem to be respectful individuals either.

“Think you’ll get to live in peace after doing something like this? The military police’s coming over soon.”

“Seems like you have contacts in the military, but I myself have strong connections too. The military police monitoring this area won’t move an inch. I had them promise that they’d pretend not to hear anything the whole day, no matter how much noise we make. Claudia... Excuse me; is it okay to call you by your first name?”

Hodgins gritted his teeth to the point they let out a creak. “Go ahead. It’s the name that my beloved parents gave me.”

“Then, Claudia. If we keep talking so leisurely, we’ll both scorch. I want you to come along with us on your own feet.”

“Got it, I’ll go over there. But leave my secretary here.”

At those words, Salvatore went blank. He cast his gaze at Lux, who – perhaps from too much fear – had tears naturally welling up in her eyes, and broke into a smile that was rather merciful for an enemy.

And then suddenly punched her on the cheek.

His eyes open wide, Hodgins’s expression visibly dyed itself in rage. “You...! You laid your hand on a woman!!”

A man from the back gave her support as she seemed about to fall to her knees.

Side-glancing Hodgins as he shouted angrily, Salvatore wiped off the blood on his fist onto the sleeve of one of his subordinates’ suit. “I loathe women who think things will somehow work out if they cry. Sorry.”

His voice sounded as though he had not an ounce of pangs of conscience.

By the time that the trio had arrived, the people of the neighboring shops were helping put the flames down together with the firefighters.

Seeing that, Violet whispered quietly, “It is almost as if they knew there would be fire, isn’t it?”

Indeed, just as she said, the fire department’s performance was too well-executed. Thanks to it, only the third floor of the CH Postal Company received damage.

“You three! Over here!”

As they turned around upon being called, they found uniform-clad office workers of the CH Postal Company standing outside with burns showing and in a horrible state. A middle-aged man, presumably the oldest of that group, was waving his hand.

“Anthony, everyone, you okay? What’s all this?”

Anthony, the section manager of the reception desk at the CH Postal Company, had genteel facial features. He spoke with a demeanor and manner of talking that matched said features, “Every employee who attended work as of today is fine. However... the President and his secretary Lux have been taken away.”

“No way!” Cattleya let out a cry similar to a scream.

Benedict looked at Violet. She blinked several times. Her long eyelashes swaying widely displayed “shock” amongst her scarce emotions.

Her hand reached out to her brooch and gripped it tightly. “Who... and where... is the culprit...?” she asked in a low voice, still gripping it and not letting go, “Who... and... where?”

Her tone was an absolute zero.

It was so low and cold it went to the point of making whoever listened to it hallucinate that their temperature had dropped for a second. The air about her was bizarre, further enhanced by her usual robotic aspect.

Only one person moved within that freezing atmosphere. “V,” echoed the affectionate nickname by which Benedict alone called her.

Violet turned her head to the side.

“It’s okay.” That was a tone so gentle it was unimaginable coming from Benedict. “I’ll do something about this no matter what.”

Those words were almost like the ones that a true older brother would tell his younger sister.

Violet’s eyelashes once again flapped flutteringly. “I will do it.”

“You can’t. If we’re doing something, we’ll do it all together. Your plans for later gonna be okay?”

“The plans... No problem; Major will understand. Besides, Major would probably order me to rescue President Hodgins and Lux.”

Perhaps unamused by Violet’s attitude in demonstrating unwavering trust, Benedict ruffled her hair roughly. “Ah, that so?”

Her feathery, wavy streaks expanded even more. Unlike earlier, Violet protested with a “please stop” using her normal voice. The instability that had given a glimpse of her former self as a girl soldier was concealed and everyone in the surroundings exhaled relieved sighs.

“Hey, enough; I’m gonna ask about the rest. Anthony’s troubled, ain’t he?”

Having her shin kicked, Violet finally nodded.

Anthony resumed speaking, “The perpetrator is the Salvatore Postal Company. Its president who has the looks of a vampire and his followers dressed in black did this to the office… I tried to notify the military police with a detailed report of the circumstances, but they would not listen. It seems Salvatore has enormous support. I can’t think of anything other than information manipulation.”

Meaning that Hodgins and Lux had been taken by Salvatore and their whereabouts were unknown. It would seem that the employees left behind were first and foremost concentrating themselves on digesting the situation.

“When departing, President Hodgins told us, ‘I leave the rest to you’.”

“I’m so glad! They’re okay for now, huh!” Cattleya patted her own chest and welled up with tears.

“Salvatore’s the place that dispatches those postmen with black uniforms? If I’m not wrong, their head office was in Leiden, yeah? Those guys once went claiming a boundary to delivering territories, so I beat them into a pulp. Could it be… this was my fault?”

“Eh, what? The name sounds like a tongue-twist so I can’t remember just by hearing it one time. Salva… Sal… Salfa…”

“'Salvatore’, Cattleya.”

Imitating Violet, who pronounced it slowly, Cattleya uttered it as well, “'Salvatore’, 'Salvatore’… okay. Gotta be able to say it right. They’re the ones we’re knocking off into hell, after all. Well, when does the blood festival start? Of course, we’ll settle the accounts, right? We’ll go save the president and Lux, right?”

It was a crude statement, yet the people present nodded at Cattleya’s suggestion with an aspect that bore no sense of displacement whatsoever.

“Please pummel them.”

Benedict broke into a villainous smile at Anthony’s request. “Oh. We’ll do that. Old Man will be fine even on his own but we gotta save the midget.” Benedict vigorously hit his own chest with his fist.

Anthony let out a breath of relief at that attitude. “You three, what should we do, then? Should we call over the other employees? The Salvatore Postal Company owns countless branch offices, even abroad. Is this all right?”

Violet said after raising her hand, “We shall seize them simultaneously. In the national offices, there should be a spot by the windows with nothing but the reception desk. The three of us will take it over… However, the priority is to strike the head office first. Let us suppose that the location the two were kidnapped to is where the leader is. Depending on whether the people at work recruited as combatants are available, please notify them that we are seizing our neighbor agency, the Salvatore Postal Company. Hold a transmission for the combatant employees to grasp the entirety of the situation. We will entrust the information convergence… to you, Anthony.”

“Understood, Violet.”

She was the expected of a former warrior. With that, the chain of command was made clear.

Looking at Violet, Benedict asked, “V, ain’t you kinda coming back to being a soldier?”

Violet had on the same composed expression as always, yet the things she said were uncouth.

“I am not. However, counterattack for justifiable motives is permitted even during travels. We are merely going to resolve a quarrel between fellow post offices. The third floor is the one burning, right?”

Violet had a reason for confirming that.

The trio stood in front of a thick iron door inserted unnaturally in the red brick wall at the back of the building. As Benedict squatted on the spot and dug up the ground, a small box covered in dirt appeared within not even a few minutes’ time. Inside it was a bronze key. Once he reverently brought it into the keyhole, the door greeted the visitors while ringing out a rusty sound. They took a built-in lantern and went down the stairs in the thin darkness. Soon, they arrived to their destination.

The basement illuminated by the faint light stored equipment that should not possibly be gathered in an ordinary company. They were firearms, swords, spears, axes, bows, shields and other fighting tools of all kinds. Even if that were the president’s hobby, such assortment of goods was not something an amateur could attain.

“He saw something like this coming and was getting himself ready, huh. He’s got actual self-awareness that people have a grudge against him,” Benedict said as if in admiration.

“Ah~! President got the tonfa that I said I wanted! The whip too!”

“One fist’s more than enough for you, ain’t it? Don’t go taking any more dangerous weapons other than that. V, what’cha picking? We got this opportunity so I’m gonna take the ones I’ve never used.”

“I...” Looking around the hidden weapons of the CH Postal Company, Violet reached a hand out to something wrapped in a tattered rag set against the farthest wall. “I have decided that this will be my weapon. Benedict, Cattleya.” Violet raised the object that was as tall as her with hand movements that did not allow one to perceive its weight. “Let’s go as discreetly as possible.”

The three stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“Impossible, ain’t it? I’m pissed.”

“Impossible, isn’t it? With this group, that is.”

“So that is really the case.”

As the result of a discussion, they arrived at the conclusion that leaving the enemies half-dead without killing anyone was passable.

Salvatore Rinaudo stared down at Claudia Hodgins. The person he detested was currently on an imported bear leather carpet of his personal choice, feeble and with wrists tied.

They were in a room encircled with black furnishings. The fact that said room was decorated with the personality of its owner was apparent one way or another. There were portraits of himself and bookshelves with double glass doors that did not seem to be opened often. There were also butterfly specimens and vases filled to the brim with fresh white flowers. Quiet violin music was playing from a gramophone, but it did not relieve the restless atmosphere in the slightest. Having her cheek punched and swelled, Lux Sibyl was seated on a chair, but one of Salvatore’s underlings had a gun thrust at her head.

Lux was constantly concerned about the outdoors. From the balcony, she could see Hodgins’s office at just the same height in the far distance. Black smoke rising from it, the structure of the CH Postal Company’s headquarters and of that building were awfully similar.

There was one more thing to note about the balcony. It was the artillery that seemed unlikely to have been placed there as an antique.

“Shall I tell you the reason why I despise you?” He stretched his arm as though to embrace Lux, caressing her, who had her right cheek swollen, almost as though soothing a pet cat.

As the cheek that had been hit still throbbed, Lux shuddered as if in pain upon the touch.

“Above all, it’s you yourself. You were born to a well-off merchant family, and used to belong to Leidenschaftlich’s army. Even though you were promoted up to the rank of major, you quit the military immediately after the Great War ended and founded a post office next, succeeding splendidly at it. People like that do exist, huh? The kind that can carry out anything just fine no matter what they do. In most cases, they stomp over others’ efforts with the sole of their shoes. And with a nonchalant face, to boot. I may have all this, but I’m one of the people who face hardships, so I detest those like you.”

“If me being superior is a sin, then go complain to God.”

“My second reason for hating you is that you rebel against the principles and rules that our predecessors established. ‘The CH Postal Company delivers to anywhere’? You make me sick.”

Hodgins shot Salvatore’s hand a blazing glare. “High quality at a low price for the costumers... That’s the basics of business, isn’t it?”

“Won’t you just crush those who can’t do the same if you turn this into a standard?”

“You get tripped up because you sit on your hands like that. Y’know, I just happened to think back when I was a soldier that a post office like this would be great and am simply making it into a reality. Letters that can be sent to any sort of battlefield. Postmen who can deliver them. Auto-Memories Dolls who can come to you if you so wish, even if you live at the heart of a sea of trees. What’s so bad about doing something I like with my own money?”

“There are still other bad things... What’s that building? Isn’t it almost like claiming that you’re going to replace the Salvatore Postal Company? The fact that only the weather face stands high up is also irritating.”

Salvatore’s hand moved from her cheek to her silver hair, which emitted a glossy luster.

“Don’t touch my secretary... Yeah, that’s right, I declared war on you. I’ve known you before getting into the industry. You’re all over the country I protected, doing stuff that doesn’t favor it.”

“What, for example?”

A bundle of hair picked by Salvatore’s fingers flowed in-between them, producing a smooth sound.

“The fact that you’ve been selling weapons behind the face of post office... You were selling national weaponry abroad, weren’t you?”

“We’re a postal company that has gentleness and courtesy as our selling points, so we do deliver anything that people request. However, I don’t recall delivering anything to the North.”

“That’s not the issue. Even if you didn’t sell anything to them when battles were going on, it takes just a bit of thinking to figure that this kind of stuff makes rounds, right? It was so unbearably weird... How come the enemy had weapons made in Leidenschaftlich? How come my comrades were getting shot by the enemy with them and dying...? I finally got to investigate that mystery after the war.”

Lux’s had her hair forcefully pulled and her neck bent backwards. Her scarf was taken off, her collarbone peeking from underneath her blouse.

Salvatore took the gun from his underling and pointed it at her chest. “If you know this much, you also know that part of my proceedings went to the military, don’t you? It’s not something that I alone wished for. Some people from your country, which you’d devoted your life to, merely wanted to increase their retirement pay a little. Isn’t that a commonplace story? Can’t you drop the moralist act? It disgusts me.”

“I’m no moralist—hey... how many times do I have to tell you not to touch...”

“Claudia, it’s not like you have a respectable life style either, is it? You wagered your whole fortune on war gambles and earned a large sum, wasn’t that it? Funds gathered from gambling are a hotbed for underground organizations and black market groups. With those funds, they sell off weapons, drugs and abused women and children. Even if you’re on the side that just milked it out, from the moment you placed a bet, you also made rounds and became someone’s assailant.”

“That’s why I said... I’m no moralist! I did all of it because I wanted to. You and I are both pitch-black at heart. But y’know, my secretary over there is a respectable girl. Didn’t you hear when I told you not to touch my secretary?! If you get anxious unless you’re touching something, just hit me or whatever!”

Perhaps because such statements rubbed him the wrong way, Salvatore did as Hodgins proposed, leaving Lux and kicking Hodgins’s face with his shin. Crimson hair swaying, Hodgins collapsed onto the floor.

Regardless, he grinned. “Thanks; should I take my clothes off while we’re at it? It’d get you excited, right?”

Salvatore grabbed Hodgins’s collar with rage. “How filthy. Your company is your human nature itself. I’m a victim. I want you to give me back the clients, routes and everything that you’ve stolen from me. I think being a soldier suited you better than being a businessman. Lying on the ground like this is fitting of you. Why... I’m just going to have you write your name on a document. Promise not to trespass my routes... It’s hard to do stuff with you loitering around. Lots of stuff, you see.” He let go abruptly, Hodgins’s face banging onto the floor.

“President!” Lux’s tear-mixed voice leaked.

Hodgins immediately raised his head and smiled at Lux. He went as far as winking at her.

Salvatore harshly told his underling to call over the official scrivener who would bear witness to their contract. He most likely intended to crush Hodgins’s post office through leaving behind a legal document with unequal contents.

“Tepid; you’re tepid.” Hodgins’s tongue licked off the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. “Compared to back in the battlefields, you really are dull...” As he coughed curt and subtly, his voice reached Salvatore. “My company isn’t just mine.” Hodgins looked out the window. He checked if something was coming and waited for it.

“Salvatore Postal Company identified ahead,” Violet whispered.

Benedict was driving his motorcycle, Cattleya behind him. Holding onto Cattleya’s shoulders, Violet was standing on the edge of the passenger seat. Running through the cityscape in the early afternoon, the motorcycle carried not only three people but also uncovered armament.

“Hey~, there’s a huge tacky cannon in the balcony~.”

“All~ right, I was thinking about forcing our way through the front gate but change of plans. V, go off on that balcony,” Benedict said with a lightheartedness that one would invite another to go shopping with.

“Understood. Cattleya, please give me support.” Violet took into her hands a thick, long cylindrical object that had been placed on the motorcycle’s luggage carrier. It was something that could be called both a rifle and a rocket launcher. She rested it on her shoulder atop the running vehicle and determined her target.

Once Cattleya clung to her legs as to secure her body, Violet shot without mercy. Explosion sounds echoed throughout the city of Leiden for the second time that day.

“Impact confirmed.”

Pigeons fled into the sky, the townspeople darting their eyes about in search for the source of the noise. Meanwhile, the motorcycle that the trio was riding on gradually drew closer to the Salvatore head office.

“Sca~ry! But ama~zing! I also wanna shoot tha~t!” Cattleya shouted in joy upon seeing the balcony destructed.

“Won’t let ya no matter what.”

“You cannot no matter what.”

Benedict and Violet shook their heads in sync. Both comprehended that it would be dangerous to let such a naïve woman hold onto firearm.

“What’s with that~?! I also wanna go wild big time~! Isn’t it okay?!”

“Then, let Cattleya be the first to charge in. Please be contented with that.”

“What’re you deciding on your own? The first at anything’s gotta be me.”

“You follow me from behind. ‘Cause the one who’ll save our captive princess of a president is going to be me. A~hn, wait for me, President! Where are you!?”

“You... As if such a huge dude could be a princess. What kinda princess is that?”

“If you were as tall as the President, you wouldn’t have to wear those heeled shoes, huh.”

“You’re wrong! That’s not why I wear them! It’s because they’re cool! You... Imma make you cry later! I’m dropping by your place today, so get ready for it!”

“Yo... Yo-Yo... You idiot! What’re you saying in front of Violet?!”

Silently listening to the exchange between the two, Violet slowly took from the luggage carrier the handle of the weapon jutting out of the tattered cloth. “Then, I shall take this opportunity and go.”

They had no idea what opportunity she was taking, yet Violet nimbly jumped midair after saying nothing but that. As she landed on the ground, the motorcycle also stopped right in front of the head office with good timing upon scoring an ostentatious drift.

“Here I go, Major.”

The one taken into Violet’s blue eyes was the Salvatore Postal Company – a building that looked exactly like the CH Postal Company. Although it was a weekday, a “closed” sign hung on the door and five postmen clad in black frock coats stood by the entrance smoking cigarettes.

The stunning woman, the man mounted on a motorcycle and the beauty behind him appeared before their eyes. Ashes fell down in lieu of their surprise at the mystery trio.

“Wh-Who’re you?!”

While the men froze on the spot at her exposed unpainted face and moonlight-colored hair, Violet swiftly tore off the tattered cloth wrapped around the weapon in her hands. A battle-axe of a size unfit for swinging around in a city road revealed itself.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I am an Auto-Memories Doll from the CH Postal Company; my name is Violet Evergarden.”

The name of the battle-axe wielded by that woman as ominously beautiful as a witch was Witchcraft. It had a silver blade, and the red rain that it dyed itself in from the number of people it had killed was a manifestation of its ill-omened existence.

“Apologies for you are in the middle of work, but could you allow us upstairs? Ever since our company’s president and secretary disappeared into your agency, we have not known of their whereabouts.”

As she held onto it, illuminated by the afternoon sunlight, her frame gave off quite a sense of misplacement.

“If you will not listen to our request, we shall exercise brute force based on the guiding precepts of our company.”

But as she wielded it, her figure looked appropriate. Rather, it was the contrary.

Raising the gigantic battle-axe blithely, Violet pointed the blade at the men. Instead of opening their mouths, the men took pistols out of their coats and pants and aimed them at Violet.

“The guys from the CH Postal Company are here! Don’t let them pass no matter what!”

“Violet!” Cattleya’s scream reverberated through the city roads.

However, the beautiful Auto-Memories Doll moved at the same time as the opponents readied themselves, dealing a preemptive strike in the blink of an eye. “Negotiations broken.”

A single blow from the battle-axe brushed away the postmen. It was an attack that did not cut them and merely struck their vitals using blunt weapon essentials, yet it caused three of the men to hit their heads against the outer wall of their company and collapse.

The remaining two men, who had dodged the appearance and disappearance of the axe, frantically aimed at Violet and pulled the triggers. Without any change in her facial expression, Violet twisted the battle-axe around and repelled the bullets with its blade. Switching hands, she pointed the tip of the handle at the opponents. It produced a ringing noise.

“Please forgive my rudeness.”

The flower bud ornament decorating the tip of the handle flew out together with a long chain. It knocked the two men’s pistols off their hands. She did not give the men, who held their hands down due to the collision, any opening to straighten their postures. This time, Violet rammed the battle-axe’s arm against the surface of the building’s wall and anchored it. While extending the chain and spinning midair, she dealt a flying kick to the face of one of them, made his face into her stepping stone and roundhouse-kicked the man next to him. There was no hesitation or mercy in her series of actions.

“Bu-But I was supposed to be the first one!”

“That was me!”

Indignant, Cattleya took a sack fastened to the luggage carrier, which contained her weapons. After thorough indecision between the tonfa, whip and other armory, the one she had chosen were iron knuckles.

Before anyone noticed, Benedict’s hands were gripping two pistols. He disabled the safety catch with practiced hand movements. “V! Don’t get too serious! If you’re angry, I can get angry for you!”

As if the people inside the Salvatore Postal Company had foreseen that someone would come raid it, postmen peeked out from the windows of the floors above with rifles in position. Bullets from Benedict’s pistols pierced their arms as he spoke, creating a rain of blood splashes.

“If this is the emotion called wrath, I want to rid myself of it quickly. Cattleya.” Violet pointed with her finger at the rocket launcher that had no more remaining ammo to Cattleya, who had put on her iron knuckles.

Agilely grabbing its handle with one hand, Cattleya threw it with heightened rotation speed after drawing it back once with much vigor. “One, two, the~re!”

Together with her adorable shout, the rocket launcher struck the postmen who had turned up in the upstairs floor, breaking through the window glass. Its destructive power was the same as a bullet shell.

The one who had flung it jumped up and down on the spot as if delighted. “Kyah~! I hit them~!”

It was not a deed that an average person, let alone a young woman, could normally manage. She was the possessor of tremendously strong arms.

“As expected of the Stupid Woman – or more like the Stupidly Strong Woman.”

“Shut up, Platform Shoes Man.”

“Ah, you on?”

“What, are you?”

The ringing of the chain on Violet’s battle-axe Witchcraft drowned out the duo’s little quarrel. One of the men screamed and threw himself out the window, falling onto a flowerbed in front of the company.

“Benedict, Cattleya. By the looks of it, the President and Lux are unmistakably inside this building. President Hodgins told me that he imitated Salvatore’s agency when our company’s office was under construction. If that is the case, then the highest position is probably the uppermost floor – the third floor. I am counting on you to follow the procedures.”

The two nodded in reply to Violet’s words.

“Let’s kick their asses at once and go celebrate.”

“We’re bothering the neighbors, after all.”

Before anyone realized, the city had gone quiet.

The Salvatore Postal Company was located in a completely ordinary shopping street in the city of Leiden. However, the passersby had fled within a few minutes, and the shopkeepers of the nearby buildings, as well as the buildings next to those, had closed their shops’ windows – the so-called display windows – and pulled down the iron shutters.

The fast action stemmed from their understanding that the city had become involved in the maelstrom of a fight. It was a particularity of citizens from a country that had long been shutting off invaders ever since its foundation. The people were silently waiting for the conflict to end.

“Well, then, let’s go in.” Violet’s figure as she gave the command with a clear voice was different from usual.

Inside the chairman’s room at the top floor of the Salvatore Postal Company, the scenery visible from the balcony – an autumn sky where cirrocumulus clouds drifted high up and Leiden’s cityscape – had looked like it was inserted in a picture frame. Yet such beauty was something of a few seconds before, and now the artillery enshrined in it had received great damage from a sudden explosion attack, smoke rising from it.

Once ornamented with delicate sculptures, the rails were crumbling, and the balcony was in a state where one could fall straight to the ground if they put a foot on it. If the artillery were loaded with ammo, it was most likely not the only thing that would have been destroyed.

In that situation of settled chaos, Salvatore Rinaudo’s pale face went even paler and his mouth fell open as he spaced out, while Claudia Hodgins bit the inside of his cheeks to kill off his own laughter and trembled in opposition.

“What have they done?”

“Ahah—AHAHAHAHAH! Aah, I can’t anymore! Can’t hold back! This is the best!” Hodgins convulsed with laughter upon looking at Salvatore’s face. “What you so surprised about, Salvatore? Isn’t that what you did to us? Well, but... you wouldn’t think we’d do the exact same thing as you, huh! There’s no helping it! Ahahahah!”

Even Lux, who had all along been shaking with a darkened face, lit up with a sparkle of hope and laughed a little.

“Is this the work of you people from the CH Postal Company?”

“Who else is there? Our corporate philosophy is ‘an eye for an eye’.” Hodgins was in such a good mood that he seemed like he could break into song right then.

A few of Salvatore’s underlings went down to the floors below. Gunshots and screams soon echoed again. The fact that the screams had come from Salvatore’s subordinates increased his anxiety and impatience.

“They’re doing this even though you might be injured... What kind of training do you use on them?”

“Basically a principle of liberalism. Most of the personnel I gathered back when I was building my company happen to be guys with nowhere to go that I coaxed and took in... Don’t know if my preferences are biased, but it turned out that lots of them were absurdly strong fellows. The ones who’re here right now are definitely two of the Auto-Memories Dolls that were off-duty and... probably a postman that was scheduled to return to town today. They’re elite of the finest kind even among us. Salvatore, since it’s you, weren’t you supposed to investigate me through and through?”

“Your company’s employees are former soldiers and mercenaries, right? If that’s the case, so are our postmen...”

“They aren’t just former soldiers and mercenaries. Benedict is an ex-mercenary who had the nickname of ‘Battle-Hungry Freak’ in another continent. Cattleya was a boxer. She has arms so strong that no one can beat her by using force. And that beautiful girl whose name you can even say everyone knows in the Auto-Memories Doll business... my adorable Little Violet, used to be Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier. It’s in the past, though.” Hodgins smiled at Lux. “By the way, my secretary is a former demigoddess.”

“‘Leidenschaftlich’s most powerful female soldier’?”

“Didn’t your patrons tell you anything? Well, she was treated as a secret in a way, so it isn’t impossible for civilians not to know about her. The military went as far as creating a troop just for her and made her work for them, but they never gave her recognition or ranks. She didn’t have a surname back then and it seems people just called her ‘Violet’. My friend found and raised her... She was the leading figure of the Great War in the shadows.”

Salvatore reminisced to the photos of Hodgins’s employees whom he had made his underlings investigate. One that had been engraved in his mind remarkably vividly was a beautiful woman. She was a girl of exquisite, suave facial features. Even if one declared her to have been the strongest female soldier, nobody could believe it right away.

“How did you make a woman like that yours?!”

“She’s not mine.” Hodgins smirked defiantly. “And she doesn’t belong to the military anymore either. From the very start, she... Let’s stop here; telling this story to you is a waste.”

The battle’s tune gradually grew closer to the top floor. By the looks of it, the fuss was escalating to a direction where even angry yelling was ensuing. It seemed the owner of the voice was a young woman. Even amidst gunshots, the conversation between those two people did not cut short.

Hodgins’s smirk deepened, Salvatore’s face becoming grim.

“You guys, give polite greetings when coming in.”

Salvatore’s underlings readied their guns all at once. The tension reached its peak, everyone inside the room paying attention to the door. However, it was time.

“Lux, please cover your eyes,” a beautiful voice that did not match such a place, which had converted into a battlefield, could be heard from behind the staff members.

A black lump jumped from the balcony. It looked like a beast at first. A stunning and terrifying beast that moved its limbs gracefully and trampled over its enemies.

No matter how much the “hunters” who had taken notice of the beast’s existence made bullets rain on it, its feet did not halt by a single inch as it bared its fangs. It steadfastly ascertained the battlefield even as it danced in the air, wielding its weapon with astonishing precision, bringing everyone to the ground.

“A-Aaaah!!”

The arm released from the battle-axe pierced and gouged the shoulder of the man who had been thrusting a gun at Lux. The beast swung the battle-axe and stationed Hodgins and Lux to behind itself.

Salvatore took a few steps back, and exactly two factions stood in position separated at his right and left sides.

“Major Hodgins, we apologize for the wait.”

“I’m always telling you that it’s ‘President’, aren’t I, Little Violet?”

The beast – rather, the woman – shot a cold glance at the one that she perceived as the enemy.

“You—What are you?” Salvatore vented his confusion at the sudden intruder who held onto the completely red battle-axe.

She had white and smooth skin like that of porcelain dolls. Her blue eyes were as glass balls. Her hair of gold seemed to waft with a sweet fragrance. The girl was beautiful to a rare extent, but that was not the only thing that made one’s eyes widen at her.

A living legend that Salvatore did not know was standing there.

“Violet.”

The loveliness he had seen in the picture was concealed by a shadow, a turbulent atmosphere similar to madness surrounding her instead. An air of lethargic strategizing as to which of them would move first flowed by, but the stagnancy soon shattered.

“PRESIDENT———! LUX——!”

“OLD MAN!”

Callings could be heard in unison from outside the room. The massive door was then broken through as if it were as thin a paper sheet. The one who stepped onto the door as it collapsed with a tremor and entered the room while holding by the collar an enemy that she had defeated with her silver iron knuckles was Cattleya.

“Aa~hn! You two~! Found yoou!” She tossed the prey that she had nearly killed toward Salvatore and his group. Being able to fling a human being as if they were an object meant her arms were simply that great as blunt weapons.

Following her, a gun barrel appeared first, and after bullet sounds ensued, Benedict revealed himself. It was a shot meant for delivering the finishing blow to Cattleya’s offensive.

Shooting the legs of all the men in black except Salvatore, Benedict clicked his tongue at the gruesome scene inside the room. “What’s this? Hasn’t V eaten out most of them?” Together with a sigh, he threw away the gun he had been holding, taking out another one. “Old Man~, we’ve left only this important-looking old dude~.”

“Lux! Violet is protecting you, right? President! You’re tied up!” Cattleya ran towards Hodgins, who lay on the floor. Without cutting them with a knife, she ripped off the ropes that had been restricting him using the iron knuckles and embraced him boldly.

Hodgins patted her back with taps and hugged her lightly. “Sorry, Cattleya. Didn’t my adorable young lady get hurt?”

“I didn’t!”

“Atta girl.” Hodgins left a kiss on Cattleya’s forehead with a pop.

Cattleya’s cheeks flushed red and she turned her back to him looking embarrassed, stamping her feet onto her happiness on the spot.

Benedict tore Cattleya away from Hodgins and stood between them. Contrary to being angry, he aggressively hit Hodgins from face to torso, confirming that the latter was alive.

“Ouch, ouch, what’s this? A new way of expressing love?”

“You’re fine, huh, Captive Princess?”

“You were worried about me, Darling?” Hodgins merely replied with frivolous talk to Benedict’s cynicism, looking delighted.

Briefly biting his lip, Benedict faced the ground. Hodgins had a feeling that the eyes Benedict had directed at him before casting them downward were moist, and was inwardly surprised.

——Huh, could it be he really was worried?

“Hey, Darling. Benedict.”

His sandy-blond hair rubbed into a mess, Benedict finally resisted energetically as if to say, “Quit it”. Nothing that resembled tears could be seen in his eyes anymore.

“Who’s that ‘Darling’, Old Man...?!”

“Could it be you were pretty worried about me?”

He was fully convinced that Benedict would deny it.

“I was. Don’t make me.” Yet the latter directed his sky-blue eyes straight at him and said, “I was hella worried. Don’t ever make me worry again no matter what!”

As it was much too blunt, after Hodgins was taken aback, his face slowly turned red. He had anticipated they would come save him, but right now was his first time learning he was cherished to that extent.

“Ah... that so? S-Sorry, okay?”

“Damn... Don’t go getting kidnapped when you’ve got that huge body! Is Captive Princess #2 all good?”

“Fairly. Little Lux needs first-aid...!”

Violet undid Lux’s binding. The latter’s body, which had been trembling in fear, and the sound of her heartbeats, which had grown noisy, were regaining their calm.

“Thank you, Violet.” Enduring the pain in her cheek, Lux smiled at the friend who had come for her rescue. “I thought you were some noble prince.”

Violet furrowed her eyebrows as if troubled. She then resentfully held Lux’s hands and helped her up. “My apologies for not being able to protect you. But I will not let you go through terrifying times anymore.” Just like a knight, she made Lux retreat to behind her.

Albeit gripping his gun, Salvatore remained unable to fire a single shot at the mere three people who had taken control of his company. As he shifted his gaze to the side, he could see his underlings collapsed and moaning in the open corridor. “There was supposed to be... fifty of them,” once he opened his mouth, his voice shook.

“Ah? Your minions? Even if the numbers are big, it’s no use if the quality sucks. Actually, were there that many of them? I was counting, but... Stupid Woman, how many did you take down?”

“Stupid Benedict! Erm... ten. I probably beat up about ten people.”

“I got twenty. The rest was V, huh?”

“I simply came here by climbing the outer walls, so other than the beginning and now...”

“Didn’t anyone run away? The math ain’t adding up.”

They were chatting carefreely, yet the contents of the conversation were the number of people they had defeated. In addition, there was an overwhelming difference in combat power, for they were unharmed and not even their clothes had scratches. That was also a difference in corporation power.

Biting his lip as if in frustration, Salvatore barked at Hodgins, “They came late, and that’s why you’ve lost! I already had you write the contract! The official scrivener went to submit the contract we exchanged to the government office so that it’d serve as a demonstration of formal legitimacy. It’s probably already been accepted... Take your leave as you please. But I’m billing you for the internal damage caused by your subordinates and the injuries they inflicted on mine!”

Salvatore had intended to wreak both psychological and bodily pain on Hodgins for a while, instilling terror on him and making him lose the will to fight back, but now he had given up on it. What he desired most – the unequal contract – was in a state of legal effectiveness. As long as he had it, regardless of what anyone could say, the fact that Salvatore had the advantage would not change.

“Salvatore Rinaudo. What’re you on about?” However, Hodgins had a facial expression that denounced he was helplessly puzzled.

“As I said, your company can no longer enter our routes...”

“So?”

“No matter how much brute force we used, that’s nothing in the face of a validated official document!”

“Again... so what? The papers were indeed filed. Seems like they also were submitted before help came. What of it?” Claudia Hodgins, president of the CH Postal Company and former major from Leidenschaftlich’s army, generally had an easygoing personality, as well as a cheerful and frivolous attitude. However, he was now glaring at Salvatore without breaking into a smile, letting a glint shine sharply in his eyes. “Isn’t it a matter that’ll be solved if we crush down your company?” He rolled up his shirt’s sleeves and took off a wristwatch that one could tell was a high-grade product. Next, he squeezed the strap with his fingers so that the watch’s case would be on his knuckles.

Anybody who was used to fighting knew. If one was battling without a weapon, the object called wristwatch was an overly useful thing.

“Salvatore, if only you hadn’t hit Lux, I wouldn’t be this angry.”

Salvatore fired at Hodgins when the latter swung up his hand, yet it did not even graze him. Oddly enough, the bullet that had failed to kill a person shot through the middle of the forehead of Salvatore’s portrait sitting inside the room.

“S-Sto...” The word that Salvatore uttered were the end of it.

The fist swung by a 194cm-tall man who weighted 85kg struck into Salvatore’s face with a wind-cutting sound. As his nose was broken without mercy, Salvatore shed a large amount of blood. A few of his teeth tumbled onto the high-quality carpet as well. He had convulsions for a moment, but eventually became completely motionless.

“Did you kill him?”

At Benedict’s question, Hodgins put his ear against Salvatore’s chest, shaking his head after simply checking the other’s heartbeat. “He’s alive. Let’s leave him be.” By the instant he turned around, Hodgins had gone back to his usual self. “Everyone, you did well. I’m so happy; my employees sure are the best. And I’m also the best for having chosen you!” Hodgins sang praises gesturing exaggeratedly, embracing the employees who had come for his aid all at once. He then came closer to Lux’s side, planting a kiss on the cheek that had not been punched. “I’ve made you go through a lot, huh. I’m really sorry, Little Lux.”

“No, I’m the president’s secretary, after all.”

Seeing as she did not appear too bashful, that sort of kiss was likely not a rare action. As the thread of tension broke, Lux crumbled and shed large tears. Hodgins frantically apologized again.

“That’s not it... I’m frustrated... It’d be great if I were like everyone else, and also had strength to protect the president. If I hadn’t been taken hostage, things wouldn’t have turned out like...”

Cattleya gently caressed Lux’s arching back as she was unable to stop crying. “What’re you saying? Lux, you have it good exactly because you’re a normal fragile girl. Ah, but it’s not like I’m not normal either. I’m strong and pretty, but I’m a super normal girl...”

“Cattleya, what you say is inconsistent.” Violet handed Lux a silk handkerchief.

Perhaps due to their heights being about the same, despite their faces not resembling one another and their body types being different, the figure of the tree as they nestled close to each other strangely made them look like sisters.

“Seeing girls huddling together is kinda nice, right, Benedict?”

“Old Man, just hurry and do something about this place.”

“Should we huddle too? Shall we?”

“Don’t play around and give the instructions!”

As Benedict dealt him a strong lateral kick to the rear, Hodgins ceased joking. “Eeh~, then, all dismissed...! That’s what I’d like to do but I have a request. Anyone who doesn’t have any plans for later, please help me destroy Salvatore’s company!”

“He~y, Old Man.”

“What is it, Mr. Benedict?”

“You haven’t checked things out so you don’t know what’s been made of it, but we left the international offices to the rest of the fighter staff. The guys who stayed at the main office contacted them. Since it’s those fellows... they’ll take them out without worries.”

“Amazing! But we don’t have fighter staff! It’s not like I hired you with that intention! Well, since there have to be people who can go into battlefields, I didn’t not have that intention, but...”

“From the very start, that was our purpose, President Hodgins. So that there will not be such happenings after this, we believed that laying waste to everything and thoroughly annihilating them was a good plan.”

“Scary, scary. Your expression is getting scary too, Little Violet. Smile! It’s ruining your cute face!”

“President~! I want you to buy me a new choker after we’re done. Look~! The pearls on it got torn off... It was my favorite too.”

“Okay, Cattleya. Be it chokers, clothes or anything, this uncle will buy it for you!”

“Hum... President. What should I do?” the non-fighting staff member Lux tightly clutched her skirt, looking nervous.

“Little Lux, let’s go back to the head office. I’ll have you be treated there too. It’s all right; everyone in the head office contacted the other employees, so there should be people gathering there. It’s safer than you coming with us. Benedict, take Little Lux to the head office, and then regroup.”

“Roger; leave some for me to mess with too.”

“We aren’t sharing cake slices... Now, Little Violet and Cattleya are going with me to crush the branch offices just like this. Let’s decide on the rules for one. No hitting girls. Hitting bastards is fine.”

“Understood.”

“‘Ka~y.”

The members of the CH Postal Company continued their strategy meeting without paying mind to the people that they had defeated lying on the floor. When they were done at last, they exited the building while making so that those of Salvatore’s postmen who had stood up once again would be beyond recovery.

Lighting a cigarette, Hodgins started walking with it in his mouth, and everyone followed him as well.

On that day, within Leidenschaftlich, gunshots echoed throughout several areas of the capital Leiden, yet no one attempted to keep them under control. Additionally, the military police did not make a move regardless of how many reports it received.

The nocturnal darkness deepened late into the night.

The lights were brightly lit in a bar at the corner of a business district. “Fully booked for the day,” said the clumsy letters on a paper pinned to the menu board in front of the shop. The figure of a seductive female dancer was drawn on said board. By the looks of it, that was a place where people enjoyed shows along with their meals.

The voices of people laughing pleasantly and lively music could be heard leaking from inside the bar. It seemed to be the feast of some company. The men and women were at a one-one ratio. Their ages varied and all of them differed in skin, hair and eye colors.

Even amongst them, there was an attention-catching few.

A young man was displaying splendid steps on a table with heeled boots that looked like womenswear. The dancers swayed their bodies together with him and danced purely as they pleased.

On another table, a beautiful woman was smiling while arm-wrestling with a man of fiendish facial features and plentiful muscles. Seeing as she twisted his arm in a matter of seconds, it could be that he let her win on purpose. However, the man who had lost rubbed his seemingly hurt arm with a strangely believable face.

A silver-haired young girl with a big gauze on her cheek was playing a card game with a blonde person of terribly tattered appearance. It was most likely poker. She looked troubled for not being able to read the other’s expression. While everyone else was emptying bottles of alcohol, only the two of them were making cups of tea into their nighttime company. Each was fixated with their own victory, playing in earnest.

“Ah~! I won~! I won enough to buy a kinda nice pair of shoes! Ah, Lux, aren’t those winning cards?”

“Women who can dance sure are great. V, you suck at playing this, don’t you?”

Benedict, who had had enough of dancing, and Cattleya, who had grown tired of arm wresting, came to sit at the peaceful table as if to intrude on it.

Lux put the cards that she had been hiding up to her lips on the table. “Want to quit poker, Violet?”

“That is right. The cards in our hands have been busted by a third party, after all.”

They did not have the will to get angry. If anything, Lux was so happy for being able to return to that trifling daily life with her companions that she wound up laughing. Perhaps due to the spot where she had been hit aching when she laughed, she arched her back with an “ow, ow, ow”.

“Are you okay? Is it not better for you to rest already...?”

“Yu~p, but I think it’s safer to be with everyone for the day... President Hodgins is here too so I can’t go home.”

Cattleya quickly reacted and looked at Lux’s direction with momentum. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve decided that I’ll be with the President today. See, it’s because the President’s home was in the company’s top floor. We have nowhere to sleep tonight, right? I also had that experience with being kidnapped... He was worried and got me a room at a hotel in the city. It seems President Hodgins will also be staying in it for a while. Until this mess is over, I’ll also be working from there. We’re going together today, so I have to wait for him.”

While Violet replied agreeably with a, “That is reassuring”, Cattleya became beet-red. One could tell from her face what she was imagining. She grabbed Lux’s arm and shook her violently. “You! Do you get what you’re saying?”

“E-Eeh? Our rooms are separated, y’know?”

“Cattleya, Lux is injured.”

“Not a chance. Dunno how many years it’ll last, but not even he is that shameless.”

“Hey! Don’t meddle into a girls’ talk!”

“Ah, you’ve said it. Then don’t barge into when I’m talking with the Old Man no matter what.”

Since another fight had decidedly began, as an accustomed form of coping, Violet and Lux left the two and started their conversation afresh.

“Speaking of which... Violet, are you okay? You’re dressed pretty cutely today... Could it be you were going to meet up with that person... with Mr. Major?”

The moment she received such question was exactly when Violet’s gaze had fixed on the bar’s entrance. “I am fine.”

Someone was heading her way.

Perhaps due to having come in a hurry, said person was out of breath. His sweat-dampened forehead was a proof of the efforts he had been spending until arriving there. He was caught by Hodgins and came to a halt, but even so, he aimed at and went toward her as fast as possible.

That person had soon spotted Violet from the bar’s entrance, and Violet had frozen in place the instant he had arrived as well. It was almost as if there were gravity between them that drew one to the other.

Violet stood up naturally and rushed to him.

——Ah, Violet.

Lux could tell.

——I see, so that’s how it is.

Anyone who was close by would be able to tell.

——The two of you are already like that.

After all, it was as though the air about her had changed completely the moment he had appeared.

“Colonel.”

The one standing there was Colonel Gilbert Bougainvillea from Leidenschaftlich’s army. Perhaps because he was on an off day, he wore only a jacket of fine tailoring and a shirt. Inquisitive stares from the people making a ruckus in the bar fell upon him all at once.

“Violet.”

After all, he was a man rumored within the company for moving the army in order to protect Violet. His existence was made known during the hijacking incident of the Intercontinental train, after which a year had passed not too long before. Of course, that was a story only told internally and Hodgins was publicly regarded as the main leader of such strategy.

The members of the postal company who had gathered up to save her had seen in person the man who came running while carrying her princess style. Back then, they had also witnessed Benedict being entrusted with Violet, his mouth open as if he had grown senile.

“Colonel, my apologies... I ended up breaking our arrangement.”

Her cottony hair was ruined. The outfit chosen for her and that her body was clad in had become like ragged cloths. Everything she had prepared for him had been reduced to misery today.

Nevertheless, seeing her dressed-up caused Gilbert’s heart to beat louder.

“You...”

“You look beautiful” was what he had started to say, but upon noticing a stare of pressuring quality to a fierce extent from the side, he trailed off.

Benedict seemed extremely unamused. He clicked his tongue as their eyes met.

“Anything the matter...?”

“Not really. There any law that says I can’t look at the bastard who snoops into V’s general area every once in a blue moon ever since that incident like he’s a rare sight?”

“You helped me out holding onto Violet back then. I’m grateful... And, I don’t know about any such law, but if it’s about putting up a watchdog act, I’m the one on top.”

Something like an electric shockwave ran between the two of them. Benedict remained not toning down his distrust regarding Gilbert until now, peeved by that man who seemed like he could become a love rival for Benedict’s significant other had he been in the same workplace as them.

“This was the curtain rise of their muddled battle!” just as the two had opened their mouths again, Hodgins cut in with a foolish commentary.

Silence. The two simultaneously glared at Hodgins as if looking at something deplorable.

Hodgins himself broke Gilbert and Benedict apart, coming in between them, putting his arms around each and laughing stridently, “Don’t fight for me! Man~, I wanted to try saying this once.”

“Shut up, Old Man!”

“Stay away, Hodgins. You’re reeking of booze.”

It was a conversation with a magnificent explosive power. By the looks of it, Gilbert and Benedict did not seem like they would get along, but their attitude towards Hodgins was similar.

“Old Man, tomorrow will be terrible for you if you drink too much. You’re at that age, aren’t you?”

“Darling... you’re saying that because you’re worried about me, right?”

“Hey, stop. Stop. I’m not a woman.”

As Benedict stepped away from Hodgins, who was attempting to give him a kiss, Gilbert and Violet were at last able to lock eyes with each other again. Violet had a face that denounced she had gone through a hellish time.

“Any injuries?”

“Minor ones. The same level as scratching a knee.”

“That’s good...” He was truly saying so from the bottom of his heart. Seeing Cattleya and Lux anxiously observing the two of them, Gilbert spoke further, “You too, any injuries? Aah... you need a medic.”

“No, no, I’m okay.”

Lux had already received treatment, yet it seemed like her wound might open the next day.

Perhaps always carrying it in his person, Gilbert took a fountain pen and small notebook from his jacket’s inner pocket, handing her a paper sheet that contained a certain address within Leiden. “This is the clinic where my home doctor is. You don’t need to pay if you give my name, so go there another day. You’ll probably need painkillers for a while. Even in the hotel you’re staying at, please give my name to the hotelman if you need anything. We’re on friendly terms, so he’ll treat you well.”

Lux acted uncertain when accepting the paper. “Ah. Thank you very much. You’re very generous... Could it be... that the hotel reservation... Mr. Bougainvillea, erm... Colonel Bougainvillea, was made by you?”

After glancing at Hodgins, who was entangling himself with Benedict, Gilbert nodded. “That thing asked me for it. I can’t say this aloud but I’ve also disposed of... the documents submitted to the government office in the name of your company. When I use my influence in places outside of my jurisdiction... I end up losing one card that I could otherwise use in the event of an emergency, but...” Perhaps as if remembering something, he furrowed his brows a little and chuckled. “Hodgins took care of Violet. I also won’t spare any efforts for you all in case something happens. If there’s any worrisome matter, it can even be through Violet, but do tell me.”

“Y-Yes.”

Cattleya and Lux mutely let their cheeks dye pink. Was there any girl whose heart would not throb at Gilbert as he displayed adult-man-like reliance in a different way from Hodgins?

“Colonel, you’re so cool.”

“Colonel, you are wonderful.”

No, there was not.

For whatever reason, the two had their fingers interlaced in front of their chests and were striking the same pose.

Gilbert replied levelly, “You aren’t my subordinates so you don’t need to refer to me by my rank.”

Violet pulled the hem of Gilbert’s jacket ever so lightly. “Colonel, hum... would you like to sit down? You must be tired.”

“Aah, no. I’m sorry but I’m taking my leave. You too, Violet. The two are at the Bougainvillea house and we’re making them worry. I already contacted them to say I’d bring you back, so come along. It stopped by a place a little far away, but I have a carriage ready, so let’s walk there. Miss Lux. You... were together with Hodgins for today, right? Miss Cattleya, what about you? We can send you home if necessary.”

“Y-You know my name?! Mine?!”

“Of course; I heard it from Violet. So, what will you do?”

Perhaps due to extreme happiness at that, Cattleya slapped Violet’s back with quite strong vigor countless times, making merry. “I’m fine! I’ll be here with everyone until morning today!”

“It’s probably better if you’re in big numbers. Well, my apologies since we’re in the middle of a pleasant talk, but I’m taking her along. Thank you... for always being so close to Violet. Let’s meet again somewhere else. Please let me at least treat you to a meal.” Gilbert all too naturally took off his jacket and placed it over Violet’s shoulders. He began escorting her away just like that.

“Ah! Bastard! Hold on! V is my little sister part!”

“Everyone, good night. Benedict too.”

“Wait! V~! Hey—Old Man!”

Binding Benedict’s arms behind his back, Hodgins sent Violet a wink. It was true that he was drunk, but his tactic was probably to keep Benedict away from Gilbert. He might have been paying for the sin of making the two of them miss out on the time they had to spend with each other because of his kidnapping.

Hodgins and Gilbert merely exchanged short goodbyes such as, “I’ll call” and, “See you”.

“Benedict’s had an overwhelming defeat, huh.”

“Old Man!”

“Man, he’s rivaling you... but he’s also not.”

The two young women left behind spoke while still staring at the bar’s entrance.

“To be honest, the President told me a lot about Violet’s past after that incident, and I didn’t not wonder if someone like him was okay for her... but, when you meet him, y’know...”

“Yup, its different when you get to meet him, right?”

“It’s because he really did cherish her that he made many mistakes, did his best to take back a lot of things, and now they’re like this, huh,” Lux whispered, deep in thought.

Treading through an autumn night in which the nocturnal winds were gelid robbed the two a little of the body heat provided by the warm interior of the bar. Violet, who Gilbert had put his jacket over, looked at him with only his shirt on as if to question him.

He soon noticed her gaze and their eyes met. He then smiled at her. “Aren’t you cold?”

Just from him simply throwing those words at her, as Violet was still unused to it, her heart raced. “No; Major, what about you?”

The times that the two of them met up were still at a point where they could be counted with one hand, and during such instances, the restraint brought about by his long absence would manifest itself in the form of agitation. From the perspective of others, that could almost not be perceived. After all, her facial expressions were generally emotionless.

“I’m fine. I’ve run around and sweated a lot today, so I’m still warm.”

“My apologies, Colonel.”

“It’s nothing to apologize for. I did that because I wanted to. Violet. It was also for Hodgins’s sake.”

“All right, Colonel.”

“Let’s walk a little slower. Once we get on the carriage, the way home will last a blink of eye.”

“Is that bad...?”

The one who had made the request was Gilbert, and the words Violet was about to say wound up dying out before they could take form. That was because he sweetly added, “I don’t have enough time with you”.

“All right, Major.”

Her eyes spoke more eloquently than her expressionless self. Violet’s blue orbs were glued to Gilbert’s emerald ones.

“I want to chat a little too. Is everything okay with that young man called Benedict?”

“By that, you mean...?”

“He seems to favor you.”

“He has another woman that he fancies. It seems they are in a relationship, and they themselves are hiding it but everyone around them knows.”

“That so?”

“Yes, he is... in an older brother-like... position regarding... my person, he told me.”

“Told you? That man?”

Their eye and hair colors were certainly similar, and the man could be said to be an androgynous beauty, but his speech and conduct were much too different from Violet’s.

“He himself was saying so.”

“Aah, he indeed called you his ‘little sister part’... Should I interpret that as him showing affection for you...? But it doesn’t look like we will get along very well.”

“Is that so?”

“It will probably be difficult.”

As Violet had heard the story of Hodgins and Gilbert’s past, she estimated that such assumption would be disproved. Gilbert and Hodgins were also a duo that one would not think got along well.

“It seems he’ll get in the way when I’m with you.”

Since Gilbert made a face as if he had swallowed a bitter-tasting bug, Violet did not voice her opinion in the end. “Major.”

“What is it?” As Violet called him, the middle of his brows immediately softened.

“If you had managed to meet with me as planned today, where did you intend to go?”

“Aah, I had actually made an arrangement for us to go horse-riding.”

“Horses.”

“You can ride army horses, and I think long rides aren’t bad if it’s on fine autumn weather days... Did you not like it?”

“Colonel, there is nothing that I dislike if I am in your company.”

“That answer makes me happy, but I do believe I want to learn about your tastes little by little. Kukuh.”

As Gilbert suddenly laughed aloud, Violet tilted her neck. “Is something the matter?”

“You... probably haven’t noticed it, but you’ve been mixing up ‘Major’ and ‘Colonel’ when referring to me.”

As he had been promoted from major to lieutenant-colonel and from lieutenant-colonel to colonel, it could be said that referring to Gilbert with a lower rank was terribly inappropriate.

Violet corrected her posture and apologized again, “I... am sorry. My apologies, Colonel.”

“No, that’s not it. I’m not angry... Ever since you were little, you used to call me that. The first word I heard from you was this one, too. I’m saying that if you can’t get used to it, I don’t mind the ‘Major’.”

“‘Colonel’... Colonel, I will not mistake it anymore.”

Her figure as she attempted to memorize it, in order not to forget it, was lovably stubborn. Gilbert caught a glimpse of her past self from that immature aspect of hers.

At the beginning, the two of them had had an inept exchange. Almost like how children would do it, they had told each other their names.

“Ma... jor.”

“Can you understand what I’m saying, Violet?”

“Major.”

After learning words and coming to know discipline, she had become his weapon.

“If that is Major’s order...”

“It’s not an order...”

“If... it is your desire...”

He had wound up loving the girl-weapon.

“Major’s eyes are here.”

“I wonder... what this is called.”

It had been a one-sided love.

“I will become your ‘shield’ and ‘weapon’.”

“I shall protect you.”

“Please do not ever doubt this. I am your ‘asset’.”

Even so, he had loved her.

“I love you!”

“I don’t want to let you die! Violet!”

“I love you, Violet.”

The girl-weapon had wept that she did not understand what she had been bestowed with.

“What is... ‘love’?”

No one had taught her about it.

“What is... ‘love’? What is... ‘love’? What is ‘love’?”

“I do not understand, Major...”

She had also not understood why he had said such a thing to her.

“What is... ‘love’?”

She had searched for the meaning of those words and for him, who had disappeared, encountering them by chance at last.

And so, they had reached the present time.

“Violet.” Gilbert took her artificial fingertips as she stood still.

Her index finger made screeching sounds.

“Since we’re at it, won’t you call me by my name?” He pointed her finger at himself.

The fingertips that used to be soft and have body temperature in the past did not anymore. The same applied to one of Gilbert’s arms.

“I am Gilbert. Gilbert Bougainvillea.” He pointed at Violet next. “You are Violet. Violet Evergarden.” He moved the finger both ways, saying, “Gilbert, Violet... Gilbert, Violet.”

The two who had ended up with mechanical part had grown and changed. They were not parent and child originally. Not siblings, either. They had also ceased being superior and subordinate.

“Lord Gilbert.”

At Violet’s predictable response, Gilbert smiled bitterly. “The ‘lord’ part... isn’t necessary.”

He had supposedly spoken gently, yet Violet showed him an aspect of disconcertment. “My apologies... Have you... come to hate me...?”

“No. I don’t know how to feel anything but affection towards you... It appears that...” while thinking that it was also valid for himself, Gilbert stated, “hum... you become insecure about it every now and then, but I’ll never hate you.”

“How come?” Violet asked.

How great would it be if he were able to show the insides of his heart to her? Presenting with a form that “this is love” would be so simple. However, it was due to not being able to do such a thing that people uttered words to proffer their love.

“Because I love you most.”

Violet started searching for that term within the sea of words embedded inside her. “‘Love... most’...” As they rolled out of her tongue, what appalling yet passionate words those were.

There was no other sentence more fitting of Gilbert Bougainvillea.

“Love me... most?”

“I have eyes for nobody but you. You’re the only one I’m fond of.”

“That is... to love most?”

“I will hold you dear for eternity, and continue to love you.”

She did not ask “That is... to love most?” a second time. Violet’s cheeks were rose-dusted, her heart started palpitating to the point of aching, and her field of vision blurred. She was unable to look at Gilbert’s face. Unwittingly, she cast her head down, yet he wound up peering at it. The distance between their faces was just about enough for them to kiss.

It was currently nighttime and the two of them were alone in that place, so whatever they did, no one would be looking. Maybe they could manage to keep it a secret even from God.

“I had a phase of... liking you... then I fell in love with you, and now, it turns out I love you the most. Do you understand?”

“Does it never diminish?”

“The affection?”

“The love.”

“I wonder. But I don’t want that to happen and will probably reconfirm whether I do love you numerous times, so it’ll likely intensify, not decrease. You fill me up with it.”

“With love?”

“Yes. The reason why I believe I love you is because you granted me that feeling.”

Violet Evergarden, who had been learning and copying from him – from people –, was able to take in the meaning of those words.

“I do that to you, Major?”

Again, her manner of referring to him had changed. Gilbert thought it was fine either way.

“You do that to me.” Gilbert silently planted a kiss not on Violet’s cheek or lips but on the fingertips that he was holding onto.

Silence.

Those were artificial fingers. She was unable to feel anything from them. Her arms were gone, and would nevermore return.

Placing a kiss on such a spot could transmit nothing.

Even so, he had deliberately kissed it in an affectionate manner. For some reason, that action – Gilbert’s feelings – caused Violet’s eyes to grow hot as if burning and produce tears.

Violet attempted to stop them. Those were incomprehensible tears. Why were they flowing at that moment? They would definitely trouble the man in front of her.

Nevertheless, tears were already pooling in her moist eyes until, finally, a single drop spilled down. Sure enough, the round tear that had fallen from one of her eyes left Gilbert distraught.

“Violet.” Seeing her reaction, he promptly let go of her fingers. “I’m sorry.” He stepped back, raising both hands as if to have her understand that he would not do anything else. “I’m really sorry.”

Violet did not answer. She stared at Gilbert without even wiping off the tear as if spacing out. Her attitude was not of anger. Her aspect was not of sorrow, either. He had no idea what she was thinking. She had the gaze of someone who seemed to be having a dream.

The two of them had lived separately, and he had thought that her facial expressions had become richer ever since they had reunited, but once she clammed up, he could not read her. Her lack of expression and well-featured doll-like traits did not allow Gilbert to study her emotions. However, the one thing he could fathom was that his action just now had been foolish.

——What am I doing?

He had told her that he would wait however long it took. The kiss on her fingers might have been a violation to that promise. He should have been the best gentleman for her, but he may have lost that right.

When she was by his side, she was unbearably endearing. The love towards her that lit up within his chest wound up overflowing.

“I swear I won’t do it anymore...”

The army colonel of Leidenschaftlich was losing face in front of the girl he was enamored with.

“Violet...”

What face was he making now? What did she think of it?

“Major, I...” Violet called him with her wind chime voice. She grabbed onto Gilbert’s fingers and took one step forward. The distance between them had shrunk once again. And then she took another step.

She was close enough to be embraced by Gilbert.

“Violet...”

“Major... please.” Violet peeked into Gilbert’s eye.

The emerald-green orb that had unchangeably borne beauty, kindness and a little bit of loneliness ever since they had first met was right there. Violet was now reflected in it.

Violet was inside his world.

“Do not swear so.”

Gilbert’s eyelid blinked at her straightforward words.

“Please, do not swear... that you will not do it.”

Seeing tears well up in Violet’s eyes once again, Gilbert impulsively reached an arm out to her. He caressed her golden hair as if to soothe her, earnestly listening to what she was attempting to tell him.

“Major, you explained it to me, right? That to love is to think of wanting to... protect someone the most.”

He wiped her tears with his fingertips.

Violet entrusted her cheek to his hand and shed more tears. “This has... applied to me since forever.”

She was attempting to replenish her lacking life. Rather, the truth was that the two of them could have done that from the moment they had met, for it was almost as if they made up for each other’s unskillfulness, but they had missed one another countless times and had not intersected well.

Violet’s chest was now being filled up with a warm feeling that she was experiencing for the first time.

“It always, always has, since long ago. I merely... did not know it...”

——This loud throbbing in my chest, this ecstasy, the fact that I end up swayed by your every action...

“I...”

——...the reason why I cried that I wanted to be by your side and asked you not to leave me anymore...

“Major... I...”

——...the reason why I am crying now...

“I, as of now...”

——...is that, once the “like” and the “love” fell and piled up like snow, and I became unable to melt them down, I had wanted to let you know that I wished the same to be valid for you.

“...have a feeling that I...”

People would declare it as if offering a prayer.

“...understand it better than before.”

“I love you”, that is.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden gaiden #kyoani #kyoto animation #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hogdins #benedict blue #cattleya baudelaire #lux sibyl #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #novel #my translation

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meta-squash · 4 years

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Brick Club 1.6.2 “How Jean Can Become Champ”

I’m sorry if some of this is muddled, I wrote some of this post to avoid doomscrolling yesterday (not that it worked). It’s also long.

First of all I gotta say, I do love how Hugo manages to get everything to slot into place, when he doesn’t use his handwavy magic. The chapter opens with Madeleine settling some “pressing business of the mayorality” just in case he decides to go and collect Cosette from Montfermeil himself. Obviously this doesn’t happen, but the fact that he’s arranged stuff in advance means he’s able to go to Arras etc and mayoral matters are settled even when he’s revealed his true identity.

Hugo calls Javert “this savage in the service of civilization, this odd mixture of Roman, Spartan, monk, and corporal.” I’ve always assumed the term “savage” was another reference to his Romani ancestry, as well as his origins within a jail. The rest of the references have to do with different types or levels of self-discipline and sense of duty. Essentially, this phrase is saying that Javert carries his sense of duty with him everywhere and rarely strays from it. I’ve nicked this straight from the wikipedia page on Roman pietas, but I feel like it fits so well: “A Roman with the virtue of pietas did not leave his religious duties at the door of the temple, but carried them with him everywhere, following the will of the gods in his business transactions and everyday life.”

"His whole being expressed abasement and steadfastness, an indescribably courageous dejection.” Weirdly I love this description. Javert hates being wrong, but to admit it is to act justly and according to duty, so he does it. Which is just so interesting because he could easily not even bother to tell Valjean about any of this, and just go on with his life as normal, and Valjean would be none the wiser. But that’s not how Javert functions. The difference between himself and other cops is that his sense of duty and justice extends to himself, which he says much more directly later on in the chapter. I just like that this description includes both his steadfastness to duty and his humiliation and self-frustration at being wrong and admitting it. “Courageous dejection” is such an interesting phrase, but it makes sense. It takes courage to admit you’re wrong, and even more when it’s something as egregious as informing on a superior.

Javert interrupts Valjean here, which I can’t decide what to think about. Part of me assumes that he interrupts Valjean because Valjean hasn’t even started to speak, so it’s still sort of....socially allowed for Javert to tack another bit of explanation onto what he just finished saying. Part of me wonders if Javert feels okay about interrupting Valjean either because he assumes he’s going to be dismissed anyway, and so this small rudeness of interrupting a superior doesn’t really matter, or because despite his sense of duty, he still feels quite a bit of aversion towards Valjean (which Hugo tells us a paragraph prior) and so is less bothered by interrupting him due to his dislike. Either way, it’s interesting that Javert is so keen on duty and correct conduct and yet he interrupts Valjean here.

“...you were severe to me the other day, unjustly. Be justly so today.” Wow okay so. Javert directly disobeyed and contested authority, argued with Madeleine and attempted to undermine his command to let Fantine go. Madeleine reacted accordingly, sending Javert away. And yet Javert feels that this treatment was unjust. I think the reason he sees it as unjust is because he sees himself as defending the honor of a mayor or authority figure (as well as a well-to-do citizen, Bamatabois) against a lowly prostitute. Despite the fact that Valjean specifically defended Fantine and offered her help, he’s still going to see his defense of authority and justice as being in the right over Valjean’s empathy towards her. (Sidenote: I love that he says “the other day” even though Fantine’s arrest was almost two months ago.)

Again, we get another concrete passage of time. It’s been six weeks since Fantine’s arrest. She’s still in hospital. Hugo isn’t huge on indicating exact passages of time. Lots of “eh, about three weeks later” or “maybe four months ago” in this book. Also the absolute mess of the Thenardier boys’ timeline. Anyway, these continuous references to how much time has passed is important. Hugo wants us to know how long Fantine was a sex worker for, and now how long she’s been languishing in bed, still sick.

Javert lists off things that he recognized in Valjean. All of these make sense to me except “information you obtained at Faverolles.” When has Madeleine ever mentioned being from or going to Faverolles? The Hapgood translates this as “inquiries which you had caused to be made at Faverolles.” This makes it sound like he actively tried to find his family. Hugo specifically tells us that by the time Valjean left prison, he had forgotten his family entirely. And yet, it seems here as if he made an effort to find them, or find out what happened to them, once he had the means. What’s interesting to me is that Valjean would do that at all. Part of me says, well of course he would, he still cares about his family, and probably wants to know what happened to them, not to mention he has this thing about rose-colored glasses and probably was hoping he’d get some information despite knowing deep down that they were lost to him. But another part of me wonders why he would do that, considering that it could compromise his identity. Also I can imagine he might associate his past self, even his pre-bread robbery self, with his convict-Valjean self and his past as a “Bad Person,” so I’m not sure he would want to think about or associate with his convict self in that way. Just the idea that he maybe sent to Faverolles for information about his family is an interesting little piece of information.

We also learn that he has a leg that drags a little (and at the very end of the novel we learn it’s because he spent 20 years with a chain on that leg). Something that I’ve sort of written about before, when I reread the book in February last year, is how much information about Valjean we don’t get from Hugo’s narration. Despite much of the book being from Valjean’s POV (or Hugo looking over Valjean’s shoulder, which is how I always imagine it), Hugo always stays respectfully distant compared to his narration of other characters. The post I wrote was mostly re: Valjean’s true Thoughts And Feelings, but it also goes for a lot of his physical aspects and actions as well. Hugo doesn’t tell us about Valjean’s dragging leg when he describes him, Javert has to reveal that to us. We are told a lot of his aspects or actions through other characters interpreting him to him (wow jesus does that phrase make sense?) rather than Hugo showing/telling us while narrating through Valjean.

“He was very poor. Nobody paid any attention to him. Such people get by, one hardly knows how.” So my first thought is that this line is sort the opposite of what I talked about above. Javert knows how such people get by. Partly because he sees it every day, and partly because he grew up like that. While we just got evidence of Valjean remembering his past, this is evidence of Javert rejecting and forgetting his own. And my other thought is again how applicable this is to modern day. Cops, rich people, etc turn away despite knowing how hard poor people struggle. They know “how these people get by,” which is barely, and they know why and they know what can help or fix it, but they turn away and absolutely refuse to see it.

“Such people, when they are not mud, are dust.” This is such a pretty and poetic way of declaring such a gross opinion. But also it’s such an interesting pair of descriptors. When you’re poor the way Valjean was, or the Thenardiers will be, you are in a position to be blown away by society and by poverty, to be dirt that disappears and spreads far and wide with the gust of wind, and if you’re trying to locate a certain speck of dirt that you had been looking at before the wind blew, you wouldn’t be able to identify it. Or you’re in a position to be bogged down, to be stuck packed together, trying to survive, begging and stealing off of others around you because there’s no other way to survive, being stepped on and scoffed at by people in a better position than you, and then scraped up and tossed in a gutter or the galleys when it gets to be too much.

We get an age! Valjean is fifty-four. I feel like this is important mostly for his hair later on. Fifty is old enough to be greying but I think this makes us aware that he’s not yet old enough to be totally white-haired, and the change is a shock for that reason as well.

Holy shit this is the most adjectives I’ve seen used to describe a single character within a single chapter so far. Words describing Javert or Javert’s actions in this chapter: respectfully, conscientious, clearheaded, straightforward, sincere, upright, austere, fierce, violent, soldierly, cold, patient, genuine humility, tranquil, resigned, serious, calm, gloomy, sad, abasement, steadfastness, courageous dejection, solemnity, incorruptible, supplicating, simplicity, dignity, unenlightened, stern, pure, desperate, resolute, bizarre grandeur, oddly honest. The biggest takeaway from all of these, I think, is how much Javert’s pious loyalty to justice and morality is not corrupt, at least in the usual sense. It’s misguided, it’s unsympathetic, but he genuinely believes in his own actions. He is aware of his severity, but he doesn’t see it as cruelty, he sees it as justice. He doesn’t acknowledge the evil of his actions because he doesn’t see them as evil. He is (and I want to go into this later for 1.8.3) a personification of the “evil of good,” and an illustration of how justice can go too far. But he does everything with that air of honesty and cold dignity, because he genuinely believes that his morals and his dedication to justice is in the right.

“And now that I see the real Jean Valjean, I do not understand how I could have believed anything else. I beg your pardon.” So we’ve already established that Javert does not change his mind or admit wrong easily. We also already know he doesn’t like Valjean anyway. The only reason, it seems, that he is admitting to this mistake and asking for dismissal, is because of Valjean’s position of authority. Javert does not do mercy; once he believes someone is bad, they are forever bad. The exception is those in power, those who he sees as authority figures, even when he questioned them just a chapter or two earlier. His sense of duty overrides his morality. Which I think is a major point for him. This is what screws him over later on at the end of the book. When his morality drastically changes, he can’t change his sense of duty to fit it. The issue in this chapter a mistake which is fairly excusable: there is another person he can transfer that moral judgement onto (Champmathieu) and Valjean’s position as an authority figure overrides any of the moral suspicions Javert had about him before this transfer of moral judgement. If Madeleine-Valjean had been just a regular merchant, I wonder if Javert would have admitted to his identity mistake but also continued to be suspicious, simply because his instincts told him that if you think someone is bad, they’re probably bad.

Oh okay so this actually potentially answers my question from last chapter. Javert says “Scaling a wall and theft includes everything. It is a case not for a police court but for the superior court.” So does that mean the police could just toss people into prison for however long they liked if the crime was a misdemeanor?

Javert mentions that the police have not found Petit Gervais. I mostly want to note this because Hugo told us earlier on that Valjean gives money to every Savoyard that passes through M-sur-M and asks their name, and it seemed to imply that in doing that he’s maybe secretly hoping Petit Gervais will turn up. If Valjean hasn’t found Petit Gervais yet, I doubt the cops will.

Javert fundamentally misunderstands how Valjean is sly and cunning. Because Valjean is quite clever and cunning, but the difference is nearly all of his cunning comes not from direct lies or playing dumb the way that Javert is implying, but by using his surroundings and other people’s assumptions to his own advantage. (Plus disguises and wigs, but we don’t see that until Paris.) He buys himself time through things like the fake address trick during the Thenardier encounter, or wandering and disappearing into the woods like Boulatruelle observed, or taking advantage of incomplete information, like becoming Fauchelevent’s brother or burning his passport and becoming Father Madeleine. Valjean’s whole thing is being able to very quickly scan a room, register things, and then adapt and/or react to his situation quite quickly. (Side note: What’s interesting to me is that he’s great at adapting and acting when it comes to action but he is rather stilted and slow when it comes to emotional reaction or adaptation.)

“...tell her to make her complaint against the carter Pierre Chesnelong. He is a brutal fellow, he almost crushed this woman and her child.” Whenever Hugo mentions carts there’s usually symbolism there. In this case it sounds to me like a parallel of Javert, Fantine, and Cosette. At this point, Fantine is still alive though very sick, and Valjean is planning to go to Montfermeil himself to get Cosette. Javert’s imprisonment of Fantine would have destroyed Cosette along with Fantine, just as Chesnelong’s cart nearly crushed Mme Buseaupied and her child. She gets to make a complaint, she has the potential for Chesnelong to be punished. Fantine doesn’t have that, not to the same extent. She dies before it could happen anyway, but even if it could, she’s a prostitute who would be complaining against a cop, there’s not a lot of power on her side, even with Valjean vouching for her. But at this point, she’s only been “nearly” crushed; her child will be with her soon, at least she get that reunion despite being mortally ill, and Javert’s punishment for nearly crushing Fantine and Cosette is, weirdly, Valjean’s refusal to acknowledge his sense of duty and dismiss him.

“Besides, this is an offense that concerns only me.” This almost exactly parallels Valjean’s comment on Fantine insulting him: “The insult is to me. I can do what I please about it.” This is the second time that Valjean has denied, to his face, Javert’s sense of justice and duty by claiming offenses as a personal matter rather than a judicial one.

“In my life I have often been severe to others. It was just. I was right. Now if I were not severe toward myself, all I have justly done would become injustice. Should I spare myself more than others. No. You see, if I had been eager only to punish others and not myself, that would have been despicable!” I mentioned it above, but this is just so telling. Javert knows how severe he is, but he doesn’t see it as cruelty or lack of empathy, he sees his severity as totally in the right because it is for the good of justice. He especially sees it as good because he is willing to treat himself in a similar way. But this does make me wonder, like, would any treatment he got be as callous as the way he treats others? He’s a cop, and while he’s not the favorite of the other cops, he’s still an authority figure. So if he asked for others to be severe to him the way he had been severe to others, would they be? Or would they treat him better because he is or was an authority figure? Anyway, this line really establishes how entrenched in his own morals Javert really is. I feel like these lines here are the entire setup for his conflict and death at the end of the book. If he didn’t believe in treating himself with the same severity as others, the stakes wouldn’t be as high re: the consequences for letting Valjean go free.

Javert calls the defense of a lower person against a higher-up “ill-begotten kindness,” which I think is a really good indication of the way his view of justice works. Defending someone like Fantine, who has been beaten down and nearly broken by the system, isn’t empathy or charity to him, but kindness that shouldn’t be. He seems to think that in situations like this, the person who is being pardoned or defended shouldn’t be, and is sort of like gunning for special treatment by accepting that kindness.

“Good God, it is easy to be kind, the difficulty is to be just.” Maybe this is a weird way to look at this line, but I can’t help but think about Valjean’s conflict after leaving Digne when I read this. At that point, for Valjean, the difficult was in choosing to be kind, rather than choosing to continue to ride his old instincts that would lead to more crime. Javert learns at the end of the novel how difficult it is to be kind when all you know is being “just,” and it kills him. But here Javert equates kindness with moral leniency or maybe even moral abandonment, rather than with empathy and aid. To Javert, people who have done something criminal or morally bad cannot change and cannot be rehabilitated and will always be bad. Which makes me wonder what he thinks kindness actually is. What is Javert’s version of kindness, since he sees kindness in the form of aid or sympathy as reprehensible?

I wonder if Javert is thinking of Fauchelevent when he says, “I have hands, I can till the ground.” Would Javert have changed if he’d gone into labor work for a while, like Fauchelevent? Would work as someone who has no power over others have changed him?

Javert describes himself as a spy in a derogatory way. I think this is the only time he ever references spying in a derogatory way towards himself. However, he has been described as a spy or having spy-like qualities more than once by Hugo. For just a moment, he agrees with the narrator and reader about what he’s like, only it’s from a completely different angle. We can see that he’s “like a police spy” because he’s merciless and inflexible and generally unwilling to change any of his ways at all. He sees himself as “like a police spy” because he has breached a social contract and not only falsely suspected but reported on a superior.

A thought on Tome 1.6: I find it really interesting that despite the fact that this tome is titled “Javert,” it doesn’t include 1.5.13, which contains more of Javert’s narrative than 1.6.1 does. In 1.5.13, we see the drastic effect Valjean’s actions have on Javert, and the emotional turmoil he goes through in questioning authority the way that he does. And yet, that chapter is contained in “The Descent.” Instead, the Tome starts with “Now, Rest,” and Javert’s only role in this chapter is to write the letter to the prefect of police. So despite the Tome being titled after him, Javert is really only emotionally and narratively relevant for the second chapter. I would think that it might have been better to bookend the Tome with two chapters that were most relevant to him, 1.5.13 (which would be 1.6.1 then) and 1.6.2. Instead, 1.6.1 focuses more on Fantine’s condition which, though caused by Javert, doesn’t actually include or affect him at this point. At the same time, the last Tome was titled “The Descent.” This descent of Fantine’s levels out once she has fainted, which is a good transition into the next Tome.

#les miserables #les miserables meta #brickclub #lm 1.6.2 #les mis #les mis meta #also ugh i'm sorry i use valjean and madeleine interchangeably and i've given up trying not to

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ofasleepvisits · 4 years

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Nobody Wants to Read Me Write About Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t

After reading Nobody Wants to Read Your Sh*t by Stephen Pressfield, I can give myself credit for doing a decent job of storytelling in my verbal life--with my family, at work--but of course there’s always room for improvement.

But I don’t think I do storytelling well enough at all in my writing, so I should probably apply some of his principles. This book isn’t exactly a simple to use how-to guide though. It’s more of a series of short, loosely-related riffs on Pressfield’s opinions on writing and storytelling. So I’m typing up my notes and going to see what I can make of them.

Overall message of the book:

It isn’t that people are mean or cruel. They’re just busy. Nobody wants to read your shit.

Reminds me of a story Walter Williams tells about meeting one of his heroes. Williams tells his hero, his wife likes to assume most people will like her, this maximizes her potential friends but also maximizes the chances of getting hurt. While he prefers to assume most people dislike him, this minimizes his chances of getting hurt, but also minimizes his amount of friends. So who’s right? His hero responded with, did it ever occur to you that most people don’t give a damn?

How do you deal with the fact that nobody wants to read your shit? Do these 3 things:

Be clear and concise. Pare you writing down to its most digestible form.

Be fun or sexy or mischievous or interesting or original. The whole, “be so good they can’t ignore” you advice.

Apply this to everything. And I really think Pressfield means everything.

Those 3 rules are pretty good. How do I apply them? With every paragraph, sentence or word, you must be constantly asking yourself if you are giving the reader enough. I don’t do this and it sounds exhausting and is probably why I am not yet a professional writer.

Every project needs a concept. What’s the concept of this blog? Man feels compelled to write so he puts himself on a twice per week posting schedule and writes about things he is interested in that aren’t important but in reality are quite important.

Here was a good line:

it ain’t stealing if you put a spin on it

And here it gets circular. This quote reminds me of things David Perell talks about with imposter syndrome. Where everyone is an imposter so no one is an imposter. Creators have the duty to stand on the shoulders of giants and build on what is already built. And I searched Twitter to find the clip but didn’t find what I was looking for but found Perell posted a transcribed excerpt from his interview with Seth Godin. And Seth Godin references Steve Pressfield as a pioneer here.

He lists 3 situations that produce bad ideas:

trying too hard

being too formulaic

panicking

Interestingly enough reading the rest of the book, I think you need to do all 3 of these things to succeed as well.

If something is not working, don’t look for the solution, but rather look for the problem. OK, I’m listening.

The theme is what it’s about, you need the theme to understand the problem. Knowing what your story is about give you the key to every scene and chapter. What’s the theme of this blog? Is this different than the concept?

Then there’s this:

We discover who we are by what we say and what we do. We uncover our nature through action.

What’s my nature? I’m afraid to put it into words I think.

There’s talk of soul, of Jung and the collective unconscious, of Joseph Cambpell and myths and legends. I should reread 12 Rules for Life. Or rewatch that Guy Ritchie Joe Rogan clip. Or maybe I should actually read Jung and Joseph Campbell.

Pressfield offers the hero’s journey as an important template...

home

call to action

reject call

meet mentor, accept call

enter special world

meet villain

confront villain, win treasure

try to exit special world and go home

pursued by villain, defeat villain

return home with treasure a changed man

...and cautions stories that veer too far from it will feel slightly off to the audience.

There needs to be an inciting incident in act one (climax needs to be embedded into it somehow). The villain owns act two. I guess act three is the climax?

Start at the end. Begin with the climax, then work backward to the beginning.

Raise the stakes, get your characters in jeopardy, stakes and jeopardy work in tandem.

Pressfield likes to use all caps:

EVERY CHARACTER MUST REPRESENT SOMETHING GREATER THAN HIMSELF

Hero can’t be passive in the climax. Hero can’t be saved. Hero must do the saving.

Stories work for corporate presentations too, organize it like its fiction. Write non-fiction like fiction with act one, act two, act three. I do this to an extent but could stand to do better.

Narrative device--who tells the story, how they tell it, who do they tell it to--get it right and everything falls into place. Need to be on theme. Concept, theme, narrative device. OK.

To make the protagonist a star, make the theme and concept a star.

Fiction is truer than truth, write what you don’t know. I don’t know how this fits into the rest of the advice.

Some other tips:

when we think in blocks of time, we acquire patience

Yep, love it, makes sense.

Thinking in multiple drafts takes the pressure off

Agree. Already do that. So I do one thing right.

No one wants to watch you stroke your own ego. No one wants to listen to your cries for attention. Because it’s boring to us.

Make it beautiful. Make it fun and sexy and interesting and I’ll buy it. I’ll wear it. I’ll tell my friends about it. Your book, your poem, your movie can even be despairing, as long as it’s profoundly conceived and takes my understanding of life a little bit deeper.

#books #stephen pressfield #writing #storytelling #creativity

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rosesanthology · 4 years

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Escape Plan | Matsukawa Issei x F!Reader [mafia!AU]

This took me SO MUCH TIME to write aaaaaah it's not surprising that it's so long :0 i just have many many feelings for Matsukawa Issei ALSO im begging y'all to listen to the playlist before/as you read please !!

Im kinda pissed that i cant add a "read more" option since im on mobile tho :\

(Also ngl at first i planned to get one of the 2 shot but i didn't have the heart to go thru with it)

Warnings : Fluff, it starts with humor but at some point it gets angsty ???? Idk y'all tell me

- Au that could be considered as a ennemies-to-lovers type of situation

[Tags] : @raevaioli and @haikoo like i cannot stress this enough @haikoo this your main manz

- if you could only use one sentence to describe your job to a Karen it would be : stealing from the rich in order to trick other rich people

- you had been what the people would call a spy for most of your life now, the Tokyo based Nekoma Organisation being something close to a family

- you worked with both of your very good friends, Kuroo Testurou and Kozume Kenma

- Kuroo, the leader of your little squad, had been the first one to open up to you when you joined

- he was a gifted chemistry genius and you were sure he could make any poison or soporific out of the most random stuff

- he also had insane combat and physical abilities which made him fit to act in a lab as well as on mission grounds

- Kenma was a little more reserved at first, he was the same age as you but still was really reluctant to accept you as one of his own at first

- when he saw how much Kuroo trusted you and how interested you were in his work he slowly but surely found himself caring for you

- to put it simply Kenma, better known as "apple pi" was a hacker. His job ranged from creating computer viruses to full on enabling the security of whole museums

- despite his cute appearance and shy demeanor he was probably the scariest of you three

- finally, you Y/L L/N was the infiltration and weapons expert of the group, you could weild literally anything from guns, to swords to,,,,,metal rods (but you don't wanna talk about this one) and you were of great help when deciding which infiltration angle was the best in missions

- Kuroo, under the orders of Boss Nekomata, quickly taught you the dangers and ways of the job during your first months working with them, the organisation specializing in outsmarting rich bastards and stealing their precious ressources in order to make "better use of them"

- if they were hoarding a particularly efficient brand of medicine, your goal was to steal it all, and sell it to people in need for free or a low price

- if they were in possession of some important object like let's say,,,,,the construction plans for the emperor's new vacation house, you stole it, made copies to sell at a high price to the highest bidder and your good affiliate, the Fukurodani Corporation would keep an eye on the original as part of their personnal collection, you were fine with that

- yeah they were others organisations like that in Tokyo, your friends from the Fukurodani Corp of course but also the Shiratorizawa elite crime group with who you had worked a couple times before

- ah and there was the Yakuzas too....honestly they were the only group in Tokyo with whom you were still on dangerous terms with

- they didn't like Nekoma in their affairs and you didn't like them in yours, but you tolerated each other

- your boss had established a truce with the representant of the big Yakuza group of your area, Kondo "the viper" Takara, a truly scary woman who had blasted her way to the one of the top positions of the hierarchy

- she even had a cool nickname ヾ(｀ε´)ノ

- but you knew better than to mess with them

- all in all y'all kept doing your jobs well, not bothering anybody

- except for one remaining rivalry with some Miyagi group

- the Aoba Johsai Institution.

- well, rivalry would be a strong word because you kinda got along with that Iwaizumi guy, he was a great hand to hand combat fighter and you respected that

- the others however ? Trash. 👁3👁

- they seem to act like Tokyo will be their territory in the next 5 seconds flat like ??

- THEY DON'T EVEN GO THERE ????

- "they be acting like they can just swoop in and eat OUR rich" you had told Kuroo and Kenma one day over ramen

- spoiler alert : it was a bad idea cause Kuroo snorted and almost made the noodles go up his nose

- no but seriously they always seemed to take advantage of YOUR missions to attract attention

- how did they even know which missions you were on anyway ??? (Kenma and Kunimi are actually good friends cause they play video games together but he'd never tell you that)

- it's like that one time you infiltrated a business company's heir's residence and then you came across a dude named Hanamaki and you had the HARDEST time whisper shouting to him how blowing up the whole place was a bad idea to retrieve one (1) diamond

- at the end you felt so tired that you gave it to him anyway ಥ_ಥ ("just take it ffs" "really ??" "Don't make me regret this")

- they also had the single worst person ever on one of their teams.

- Matsukawa Issei

- just thinking about it made you want to take your metal bat and break something in your shared room with your two other friends

- seriously that guy was like the epitome of clownery

- he's also supposed to be his team's gun expert except that's not the best task for someone who refuses to take anything with him but his freaking FISTS

- the first time you had met y'all ended up being on the same case to assassinate some guy who had kidnapped some cute freckled kid from a place in Miyagi called Karasuno

- EXCEPT HE WAS IN TOKYO SO IT WAS YOUR DUTY !!! NOT HIS !!!!

- you had Kenma on the earbud telling you about the guy's position in the club you were currently one street away from. You were posted on the rooftop of a building with a sniper rifle ready to get done with it and go save the kid but GUESS WHO COMES IN FISTS SWINGING WHEN YOU LITERALLY HAD THE TARGET IN SIGHT

- and he had the nerve to look straight toward your rifle's aim and flip you off while smirking

- sir you're about to catch these hands🚶🏽

- he had knocked him out alright and he got the young boy out but you were NOT ready to let that slide so you quickly got down and crossed path with him at the back exit of the club

- "what exactly do you think you were doing in there ?" Listen. You may have sounded confident enough saying that but you had NO idea that this dude was like a whole ass giraffe

- and he knew he was tall so he had the audacity to say

- "sorry can't hear you so well from down there midget, i was just doing my job (▰˘◡˘▰)" if it weren't for the karasuno boy being right there you would have stabbed his kneecaps on sight

- anyway after that y'all just seemed to run into each other wayyyy too often

- insults were shared just as often tho

- "well butter my buns and call me betty broker if it isn't my sweet little midget shooting people !"

- "stfu before i choke you"

- "kinky but can you reach my neck ?"

- "you've sunk low enough"

-so yeah f u n t i m e s

- aside from that, business was going great but Kuroo had had news of a very important mission for you but he insisted on letting Boss Nekomata tell you about it himself for some reason

- he'd never done that :(

- you were kinda hurt that your best friend was hiding stuff from you tbh :(

- and Kenma did not seem to know more than you for now

- so you spent a whole week just mopping around

- sometimes you would go and poke fun and the newbie Lev Haiba but it wasn't the same

- Kuroo and Kenma kept working on missions while you were left waiting for that one assignment that Nekomata seemed to keep you for

- until today when Kuroo finally told you that the boss was requesting you in his office

- ngl you were EXCITED

- maybe you would have to zipline down the Tokyo tower (σ≧▽≦)σ maybe he was going to let you take a chainsaw with you this time (σ≧▽≦)σ

- maybe he- "oh" you deadpanned, stepping foot into the office and seeing none other than your arch nemesis, Matsukawa Issei in all his pisces clown glory

- "why tf are you there shitty eyebrows"

- "i had a good day too Y/N ! thanks for asking :D" today was the day. You were 100% ready to kill him and the knife that was attached to your thigh strap seemed like such a good option rn-

- "stop it you two. Y/N take a sit" Nekomata gestured, as you didn't hesitate to listen to your superior even fully aware of Mattsun's eyes annoyingly following your every movement

-"Okay so. Y/N i know you may be wondering why Matsukawa's here but to put it simply we've been informed that a rich family have gotten their hands on one of Aoba Johsai's rarest item : a gold engraved katana that belonged to their first boss"

- "so what do you need us for ?" You didn't mean to use "us" but you knew better than to piss off your boss, he was like a parental figure come on

- "i need you guys to infiltrate an auction held by said family and steal it back in the span of one week. It's up to you to work together or not but keep in mind that our arrangement states that we're autorised to make copies of the katana for future sells."

- you guys nodded, after all you were professionnals before everything and you were about to leave when Nekomata put something on the table

- "here are the keys to your appartment near the auction site it'll be your hideout !"

-.....now this had to be a cruel joke-

- "id rather sleep under a bridge then live with her for a whole week"

- "wow this is the first time we agree on something Mattsun" the oh so familiar nickname dripped in venom as you said it, unsure of what was supposed to happen

- "oh yes you could but i suppose that you don't have the supplies and tools that you will definitely need during that mission :)"

- you locked eyes with the brunette for a minute before reluctantly stomping to the table and grabbing hold of the keys and adress written on a paper, storming out of the door, letting out a loose "come on shitty eyebrows we have data to collect" to your new....partner ? Ugh it was about to be a long week

- it turns out the appartment was a lot smaller than you hoped for, with two single person beds, a computer post and different storing purposed furniture

- it was a common thing however, because the last thing an undercover spy would want is to draw attention with a flashy hideout

- the first step was to gather information on who would be at the auction which shouldnt be too hard

- "hey ill take the lead and contact my friend so that he can determine who is going to be here" you said as you sat on the chair in front of the computer

- "mm yeah you do that ill check what kind of weapons have been provided to us" Mattsun had no difficulty finding them as the drawers well full of them....this was very promising

- Kenma had just sent you the list of people that had been invited to the event, and you recognised many names as being members of the powerful Yakuza group lead by Konda Takara, of course.....the infamous viper herself

- you called out to Mattsun to show him and briefly explained what they were up too and how they usually fonctionned

- the auction was to take place the last 3 days after an opening party, leaving the rest of the week for preparations

- they usually took their time in comitting their crimes so you thought that stopping them mid plan by taking advantage of it was the best way to get the sword

- Mattsun didn't have anything to say for the moment, seemingly thoughtful about the whole situation

- "just so you know" you started, already regretting the decision of talking in your head, "i don't plan on being friends with you anytime soon but i feel like for this we should at least try not to rip each other's hair out"

- "i never planned on that second option"

- "huh ?"

- "i hope you know that we've never had a single conversation without insults of some kind before so for the sake of both of us it would be better to actually get to know each other since we're supposed to work together"

- you hated to admit it

- but he was right

- however you didn't comment on it, opting for throwing him a dry "let's sleep" before plopping yourself on your own bed on the other side of the room

- this is about to be one hell of a week

-3 days had passed in the crammed appartement both you and Mattsun struggling to inform yourself on each specific individual that was going to be present at the auction

- right now, you were both sitting on the floor, wearing simple oversized shirts and pyjama pants and shorts, cheese pizza box laying on top of the document covered surface

- "Mattsun, pass me the paper about Okuda Takeda please" :000

- Matsukawa froze, because he knew that in 2 days of living together y'all had establised that you wouldn't be at each other's throats

- but hearing you using his nickname unironically and saying please ???? That was still something he had to get used to

- "what are you staring at ? Give me the paper shitty eyebrows >:[" ah there she was

- "thats my girl" he thought, handing you the document and resuming his own reading

- here's the catch : Mattsun was head over heels in love with you since like day 1 that Hanamaki told him about this pretty girl who let him take the diamond from his mission. He tried to repress his feelings as he had noticed that you seemed way closer with your friend Kuroo who he had seen on missions with you

- maybe you liked him

- he would understand, he seemed way more confident than him and he was also probably way smarter since he was a genius and all

- also the way you were always soft to him and not Matsukawa kinda got to him

- he wanted you to hug HIM after a mission too and NOT insult him

- but he judged it for the better as he still got to be close to you in his own way with the playful fights you always seemed to pick with him

- it was easier than confronting his feelings or rejection

- this mission proved to make things so much harder for him tho

- like yeah he saw you being a badass plenty of other times but now ?

- he got to see you being all clingy and grumpy in the morning (he never knew being called a dumbass while you were falling back asleep on his shoulder was his thing but hey) , got to see your nose scrunch up when you were focusing on mapping out the position of the vent system of the venue

- he could go on for hours about how much he loved you and your plan was not making it easy.....profiting off the yakuzas' plan took way too much waiting and he understood that you wanted it to go as well as possible but he just couldn't keep living like this until then

- it felt like torture

- and he did not want to see you in that gorgeous dress that you were supposed to wear at the auction during the infiltration

- he knew that a couple more days could drive him crazy and make him do dumb shit like kissing you

- he had thought about that a lot of times but never brought himself to do it because je knew it was pointless

- he had to take action now

- the night of the opening ceremony, the day before the Yakuzas would start their scheme

- both of you were laying in your beds, awake, that was a habit you had developped over the past nights, you were just, aware of each other's presence and then sometime you would ask him something about his life, his friends, himself

- it made his heart beat too fast everytime and he could feel himself falling even more by the second when he heard you giggling talking about the time you pulled a prank on your friend Yaku with Kuroo

- he knew that you were already very sleepy from the way you were slurring your words

- "Y/N do you hate me ?" He said, abruptly and he heard a strangled laugh coming from you followed up by the question

- "what's that for dummy ?"

- "please answer" he asked in a whisper, sounding almost desperate

- you took a second to think about it

-you had grown quite close to your tall partner in such a short period of time, even letting your guard down and stopping from being so defensive

- "i don't hate you....i could never" you said the last part more to yourself tho but Matsukawa didn't miss it, he wished he did as he heard the soft sighs coming from your now sleeping form

- his heart ached as he got up, putting on his black coat over his mathing turtleneck shirt, taking his gun and spare map of the auction venue

- you were totally going to hate him now....

- and then he left for the opening party

- the rain was pouring outside

- for some reason you couldn't sleep well that night

- that only happened whenever Kuroo was out on a mission at night or Kenma was working in his office

- you hated sleeping alone, you couldn't do it

- being alone was the one thing you dreaded the most in your life, death was nothing if nobody knew where you were, if nobody aknowledged your existence you weren't alive

- but Mattsun was there and you trusted him.

- yeah you were kind of an ass to him during like 90% of your interactions with him but you just didn't know how to talk to him ??? He was so strong and good at what he did so you couldn't help but feel admiration but also intimidation

- yet you've felt probably more comfortable with him than anyone in your life (yes even Kuroo and Kenma weirdly enough)

- it was a nice feeling

- maybe it was because you saw him differently than them...

- but anyway

- you felt like yourself around him

- and yet

- why couldn't you sleep ?

- "Mattsun ?" You called out to him, voice cracked from not having used it for a while

- no answer

- maybe he didn't hear you over the rain....?

- you had a bad feeling about this

- "Mattsun ?" You called out a little louder, sitting up

- yep definitely

- you turned on the light and to your surprise, Matsukawa was nowhere in sight

- your heart sunk at the realization

- you were alone

- what about the plan ? Ah its true that he never said anything about it

- did he not trust you enough with it ? Did he think you were too assertive ?

- you wanted to cry but it seemed as if your brain wasn't working, your body rushing on its own to check the date and time on your phone : past 10pm on thursday night.....

- the opening party !

- "shit shit shit he must have gone there to take them by surprise wtf is he thinking doing this alone?" You thought aloud, maybe it would trick your body into not being scared

- at this point you were terrified, rushing to get the red dress on as well as putting your 2 guns under each of your thigh straps

- is he alone ? Surrounded by highly trained and dangerous Yakuzas ? What if....you were too late ?

- you didn't have time to think too much about it as you knew that this kind of thoughts led nowhere.

- you had to infiltrate that party the fastest you've ever done in your life and see for yourself, luckily, the venue was only a few crossroads away from your appartment

- truth was Mattsun's plan was not so bad

- after all you had insisted on making him find info on every staff member there too so it's thanks to you if he just so happened to know what type of guy that one waitress liked in order to flirt with her and convince her that he had forgotten his watch in one of the closed off aeras of the venue

- the place was absolutly gigantic, after all it was a mansion bought will illegal money

- he hated this, he just wanted to get it over with, retrieve the sword, gtfo and go back to Miyagi forever so that he wouldn't feel the pain of the illusion of being by your side when you were clearly far ahead of him

- you'd always been anyway

- he had finally reached the generator room and opened the vents with much difficulty as the room was a mess of cardboard boxes and storage shelves

- he was just going to cut the power, which would take about 15 minutes to get back, allowing him to go thru the vents to the main hall that was right thru the wall to his side, retrieve the sword and just make a run for it

- hopefully the rain would cover most of the sound he made so that was even better

- see that would have been great if he hadn't felt the icy cold metal of a gun at the nape of his neck as he was fiddling with the generator

- he had been caught.

- it was the end.

- shit he fucked the whole mission over and now even you didn't have a chance to-

- "what exactly do you think you're doing Mattsun ?" You said coldly even tho the hurt in your tone didnt go unnoticed by the taller man

- "haha Y/N whatchu doing here on this fine night ? You look stunning btw"

- "Cut the crap shitty eyebrows i asked you a question"

- you finally lowered your gun allowing your harsh glare to show how upset you truly were

- damn, Matsukawa really felt shitty :\

- he'd never seen you like that- well not soaked from the rain but....so vulnerable to him

- all your feelings talks happened in the dark of night in your hideout, he'd never seen your face look so pained before

- "I did what was best for both us..."

- "bullshit." He wasn't sure that he believed himself either to be honest

- "what the fuck are you even doing anyway ? I thought you and i were in this mission together ?? Did nothing matter to you ? I finally think that i found someone who i could trust other than my fucking family and that's what you do ? Ditch me for your own profit ?? You did what was best for your damn self Matsukawa"

- you were upset. He got it really, his insecurities had gotten the best of him like they often did....except he didn't have the strength to confront them, to confront you about it. So he got it and he didn't retaliate.

- "so what ?? You're not even going to say anything ?? Not even TRY to fucking apologize ? Do you really don't care ?" You searched for his eyes, but little did you know that he just....couldn't talk nor maintain eye contact with you right now

- "Mattsun...i thought you and i had...something ? I don't know maybe i hallucinated or some shit but i thought we were at least friends you know ? D-did you ever tolerate me at all ?"

- your voice cracked, it got lower and it cracked, and at that moment he was sure his heart broke right at this instant too

- he wanted to tell you that that was the farthest thing from the truth

- he wanted to tell you that he loved you

- but you were too far. Once again, you were miles ahead of him, more than ever

- and the sound of voices coming from the corridor did NOT HELP

- you could not afford being found here so with the professionalism left in you, you pushed your feelings away and pulled Mattsun behind a shelf, crouching and waiting

- you were so close he could feel you shivering from the cold and he felt so so bad

- but now was not really the moment

- "didn't you hear shouting ?" Shit. Maybe you should have waited until getting out of here for your heart to heart because this guard was definitely not trippin

- there were 2, luckily they didn't have the idea to split up to search the room, all you had to do was move low and close to the walls in order reach the door and well....the katana literally could not matter less to any of y'all rn

- at this moment you really regretted going out in such a hurry completly forgetting to contact Kenma, he could have hacked into the camera system and told you were they were so easily.....

- anyway, despite that you guys were stealthy enough to get out if the room

- now the problem was getting out of here.....

- you held Mattsun's wrist loosely as you ran thru the corridor of the building, thunder raging and labored breathing filling the silence

- "Y/N we could get out from the rooftop !" Right....if you could only get there then maybe you could just parcour your way out of this by getting on other rooftops....damn you were glad Matsukawa always thought of every escape plan possible

- you didn't really mean what you said earlier

- yes, you were disappointed but, you were also scared for his dumbass

- and rn may not be the best moment to realize it as you were most likely in a life of death situation but....you loved him

- fuck you loved him so much that you were running in a goddamn dress right now

- "i truly hoped it wasn't you" said a voice from the end of the lobby

- of course it just had to be the Yakuza boss you dreaded so much

- Kondo was just standing there, arms crossed but you knew better than to take her lightly

- "did you come to retrieve it ?" Its funny how her voice seemed to dominate even the full on storm outside, the occasional lightning bolt shining light from the huge windows into the corridor

- "No....let us pass please we just want to leave" Mattsun felt how tensed you were and immediatly rested his hand on his gun handle under his coat

- "yeah sure sweetheart but only if you tell your guard dog to calm down unless he wants me to cut his fingers clean off" she threatened nonchalantly as her hand met the handle of her own katana strapped to her belt

- Matsukawa was deadass glaring at her so hard you didn't recognise him

- he honestly looked like he could take her on but...you didn't feel like testing this theory tonight

- "hey hey, it's alright" you soothed him, putting your hand on his arm and squeezing slightly

- it seemed to work because he quickly let go of his gun even tho he was still glaring

- "let us go" he said firmly

- she pushed herself out of the way and motionned with her arm as if to say "go on~" in the most theatrical way

- you passed her without issues and soon found yourself on the roofs as planned in Mattsun's escape route and made it safely to the streets, rain still pouring

- you were finally letting out a breathe you didn't know you were holding all this time

- you were alive and most importantly, so was he

- you turned around and were ready to say something when he cut you off by grabbing your arms and pulling you into a kiss

- it was short but it managed to get his point across very well as well as warm you up when he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his forehead against yours

- "i love you Y/N....i swear i didn't mean to hurt you and put you in danger like that....if i knew i would have done things differently i-"

- "i love you too Mattsun and it's never been a problem to me, i've done way more dangerous things in my life than rescue my boyfriend from getting killed dummy"

- in the end, you weren't alone

- somehow he had become, your escape plan from it

#haikyuu x reader #matsukawa x reader #mattsun #mayhaps i cried #haikyuu au #haikyuu!!#hq x reader #hq!! headcanons #hq!! fic #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu matsukawa #aoba johsai #aoba jōsai #alternate universe #spy!au #mafia!au

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anastasiaskarsgard · 5 years

Text

electric blue

trigger warning!!!! Mentions suicidal thoughts

Nobody asked for this but here you go

A/n- Roman Godfrey is tripping. This is supposed to be how Roman would be thinking about his mess of a life and all the people in it. But also thinking about his obligation to keep going. It’s a bit all over the place, since I think that someone at their breaking point wouldn’t think straight

Gif from godfreysteel

Right now I’m lying on top of the covers in my oversize bed, stretched out on my back, looking out at the sky through the floorlength glass panels a few feet away from me. I consider briefly getting up, sliding open one of those panels and taking a long walk off my short balcony. This idea is scrapped fairly quickly. I don’t feel like getting up at the moment.

The sky is that particular dusty dark blue point that only lasts for a few moments each night. Right before it’s Too dark to be called navy, but can’t be called black. No ...it’s midnight blue.

I am Roman Godfrey and I don’t like my dreams.

Usually when I am awake at this hour it is because of one of these dreams, but not tonight. Tonight it’s because of some asshole dog named Peter.

He taunts me with- “you were born rich! I wish I had your problems.”

I glare a hole in his stupid heart. How dare he assume he knows anything about what it’s like to be me!

“You know nothing” I say. “Everything falls on my back and if I fail, who will my daughter turn to? she doesn’t even exist! Will you and your people take her? You know nothing of obligation.”

Of course he has no reply. He excuses himself no longer having any ground to stand on. I imagine tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, he will find some area of my character where his prejudices can assure him once again that I am nothing more than an arrogant, spoiled, selfish, child, with too much free time and money on my hands. This means nothing to me. It is the way things have always been, and the way HE has always been.

In spite of that knowledge, why do his words sting so?Why am I awake at midnight with him on my mind?This gypsy.

I never much cared for being part of a group. During my elementary years I never really had the opportunity. But then I met these gypsies, And though I wouldn’t be so ridiculous as to consider them friends, there are certain qualities about that group that I find intriguing. It’s a novel concept to have people I continue to see and interact with, day after day, simply because we share interests and history. To be included and accepted for who I am, with all accompanying faults, and quirks is comforting. People may call me cold, but i will not stand by and let a decent person die. I help others expecting nothing in return.

They con, lie, steal and cheat , yet they look down on me. They break peoples hearts and spitits and have even driven some people to take their own lives, but I’m the bad guy?

I wonder suddenly, if I told him I was going to end it, what he would do then. Would he still have some ignorant comment?

The last time I threaten to leap off the top of the White Tower, his main reaction was anger. But it was the only way to get his attention. It was childish and desperate.

My life doesn’t belong to me anymore, it belongs to Nadia. Nadia is my life. My house, my fleet of cars, boats, planes, helicopters, my corporation, the white tower, it all means nothing compared to her. Nadia is the only reason I bother to keep fighting. I have to take care of her, provide a better life for her. My duty to Nadia, the only person who loves me and made me smile is all I have to live for. I mean let’s be honest, I really DO have an ugliness inside of me that’s impossible to love.

It’s been a long time since I was really happy. I remember it just well enough to be miserable at the lack of it. But it’s not Nadia’s fault I chose to give her my life. She has never asked anything of me except when she was very young; she asked for mommy. I still don’t know if she meant Letha or Miranda.

Unfortunately there are somethings that money cannot buy.

Destiny was angry with me, flushed and teary-eyed. She gave me a passionate lecture of the value of my life. She did not realize that I did not care. It’s hard to prove the value of something to someone that has seen so much pain. They only see my material possessions and think they’re enough, but I’m happiest in a dreamless sleep. That’s the only time I feel peace.

I feel like a living breathing black hole.

I slide open a panel and look out at the sky. It’s changing to another shade of blue. It’s getting lighter.

They say it’s always darkest before dawn and I see this playing before me.

I’ve lived too long in the darkness. I don’t wish to ever see any more darker shades of blue.

I hope she will forgive me. I hope they will forgive, but if they don’t fuck em.

Too many shades of blue.

I walk out to the edge looking down so many stories. No more darker shades of blue, I laugh out loud at the simplicity of it all. If I step off now, I’ll never have to see midnight blue again! but then suddenly I remember the color of Nadia’s eyes, and they throw me back from the edge like an electric shock! knocking me to the ground as I cry like I’m at my own funeral.

The shade of blue that saves me everytime:

Electric Blue.

#electric blue #bill skarsgard #nadia godfrey #Roman Godfrey #tw suicude #my writing

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katlyn1948 · 5 years

Text

Codename

So this is the first chapter of my new multific Gendrya Modern AU! I have chapters two and three written and will try to post them before I got on vacation this weekend, but I can’t make any promises. I really like this concept and don’t really know how much I plan to write for this. It seems like when I set a certain amount of chapters, it immediately turns into more, so I’m just going to go with it. Anyway, hope you enjoy and happy reading!

———————————————

She stalked her pray. Quiet and observant, she watched as the man rounded a corner entering an empty alley. She waited and studied her surroundings trying to calculate the right moment to pounce. She knew that one wrong move could jeopardize the mission putting her siblings at risk. For several minutes she watched the dark alleyway, until finally, the man emerged. Without so much as a sound, she glided from her hiding spot and fell in step behind the man. She was soft and silent and before the man could register what was happening, his throat was slit from ear to ear. She saw as he grasped his neck, choking on the blood pouring out of his wound. The man fell to his knees and with the little life he had reaming, he stared at his killer’s dark grey eyes.

The She Wolf smiled, “Agent Baelish, you have been relieved of your duties and decommissioned from The Wolf Corporation. Thank you for your service.”

She turned on her heel, leaving no trace that she was ever there.

Static rang through her ear as a voice said, “Mission successful, She Wolf. Return to headquarters for your next assignment.”

“Copy that, Raven. ETA is twenty minutes.” She reached towards her ear and pulled the com out, throwing it onto the ground and crushing it beneath her foot.

She pulled her black hood over her head and kept her face down. The alleyway may have been empty, but the buildings surrounding the alley were crawling with people. The Bird District was filled with nothing but clubs and whorehouses spilling with rich sick bastards who wanted to spend more money than what they made. It was a Saturday night, meaning that there were more people out than on a slow night.

Being as invisible as she could be, she walked down the busy sidewalk gazing around for a lone vehicle. The less people there were, the easier it would be to steal an unsupervised vehicle. Her eyes darted back and forth until it finally landed on a black motorcycle parked in a full carpark. She weaved her way through a crowd and slipped past a distracted guard, pulling off the small panel in the front of the motorcycle to get access to the wires. A simple spark ignited as she flicked two wires together, roaring the beast to life.

She moved quickly, throwing her leg over the seat to straddle the motorcycle. With a swift kick, she pushed off and zoomed out of the car park having raised no suspicion. Years of training had taught her well, but she couldn’t help but feel that slight rush of adrenaline rise in her stomach every time she got away successfully. She only allowed herself to feel that way just for a minute because any distraction could mean life or death, which could ruin even the best-made plans for any mission.

Focusing on the road ahead of her, she swerved in and out of traffic, bypassing the surrounding vehicles. The Wolf Corporation was exactly fifteen minutes from The Bird District and if she were even a minute late there would be countless questions asking of her whereabouts.

With three minutes to spare, she pulled up to the entrance to The Wolf Corporation, flashing her badge to a heavily armed guard. He huffed and nodded his approval, allowing her to enter with ease. The She Wolf had never like the front guard. He was tall, board, and never said a word; only grunting in response whenever she flashed him a halfhearted smile.

She parked the bike in an empty spot before slinging her leg over to hop off. Pulling her hood off, she walked towards the side entrance and punched in a code on the keypad.

“Identification.” A voice responded.

“Arya ‘The She Wolf’ Stark. Identification code 352.” She said.

A low humming emerged from the keypad before a loud beep went off, indicating that he code was received. The automatic doors sung open and she step inside, punching a button to take her to the top floor. Arya watched the red illuminated numbers climb as the elevator reached its destination. When the elevator slowed and opened its bulky black doors, the last person she had expected was standing right in front of her.

“Arya. Welcome back.” Her sister said.

Arya looked at her sister quizzically. In all the time she had been working for her family’s company, Sansa had never stepped foot on floor 150. If Arya was being honest, she felt like her sister didn’t deserve to have access to floor 150. It was reserved for the best agents and her sister was nothing more than a whistle blower; never going out in the field to do op work.

“Sansa. What a lovely surprise. What brings you up here?” She said sarcastically as she stepped off the elevator. She pushed passed her sister and crossed the hall to the nearest bar. Floor 150 looked more like a club than a company’s headquarter, which meant there was booze. And for that, Arya was grateful. She reached over the bar and poured a glass of ale from tap.

Arya could hear her sister’s sigh, “You broke protocol, Arya. There are consequences for that.”

Arya scoffed into her glass, “Consequences? My mission was successful! I killed Baelish. It was clean, it was fast, and it is done.”

“I’m not talking about Baelish. I’m talking about Jaqen. Or did you forget?” Sansa placed a slender hand on her hip as she smacked down a large file on the bar just inches from Arya’s face.

Her face paled as she pulled open the file with a shaky hand.

Jaqen H’ghar was her only failed mission in all the years she had been working for The Wolf Corporation. Her stupid mistake cost the lives of three people and nearly cost her life if it wasn’t for her older brother. The incident happened nearly six months ago and she thought that was the end it. How could she forget the internal investigation was that was being helmed by none other than her own sister?

Arya gulped the last bit of her ale before letting out a shaky breath, “Of course I remember. I just forgot about the internal investigation. So, what does that mean for me?”

She looked up into her sister’s eyes and could see the softness. Arya could tell that her sister hated what she was about to do, but for the good of the company, it was necessary.

“They think it is best for you to take a…break. Like a holiday.” Sansa said slowly.

Arya’s eyes furrowed in confusion, “A holiday? So, I’m not being fired?”

“No! Of course not! You are one of the best agents here. They just think you need a change of scenery for a bit. Perhaps a trip to the tropics? Like Meereen?” Sansa shrugged.

Arya let out a humorless laugh, “Judging by your demeanor, it is safe to say the trip is already booked. When do I leave and when can I come back?”

Sansa’s body relaxed and Arya watched her as she fumbled through her skirt pocket for her plane ticket.

“You leave tomorrow morning and you’ll be gone for two weeks. After that, you are full and cleared to return to work. Sister’s promise.”

Arya reached for the ticket and gave a small smile. A trip to Meereen would do her some good and it would be nice for her to take some time off from all the killing. Being an assassin requires her to be cold and stoic, so the chance for relaxation was a happy surprise. She really thought that she would be decommissioned and end up like Baelish; dead and cold.

“Fine, I’ll bite. Besides, a little sun never did anyone any harm.” She stuffed the plane ticket into her jacket pocket and poured another glass of ale. She offered her sister to join, but being Sansa, she politely declined. Arya just shrugged continued her drink until it was time to leave for her forced holiday.

#arya stark #gendrya #gendry baratheon #gendry waters #arya/gendry #slow burn #passion #spy au #starcrossed lovers #lovers to enemies to lovers #vacay #they dont know they are spys #got au #mondern au

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the-stick-scribblers · 6 years

Text

The Womb

Crime is up five hundred percent since the Academy opened The Womb.

Twenty years ago, some newish academics who were still in their first century and therefore still hopeful, published a groundbreaking study on crime. They said the problem was simple: people committed crimes because somewhere in their past or current reality, they lacked security and love. Becoming a criminal was simply a call for help, too late. That part wasn't groundbreaking, but it bore repeating (and repeating, and repeating - hit the boring nail on the head, they did). Here's the important bit: they then asked what would happen if criminals could return to their childhoods and start from scratch, supported by the state? The ultimate rehabilitation program?

Instead of prisons, they imagined a system of homes with specially trained and vetted "parents" to provide love; instead of cells, there would be small rooms they called nurseries filled with safely approved enrichment toys and lots of soft things for squeezing; there would still be community service opportunities and classes and career preparation, but capital punishment was firmly nixed.

It hinged on some pretty wild de-aging technology, but once they'd made the proposal it was only a couple of years before the tech caught up and then it was all hands-on deck "for the future of all children" and other such meaningless shit. There were some modifications - the cells are simply called rooms instead of nurseries, for example - but when they rolled out The Womb it was pretty much as presented.

Let's say you commit a crime. It's a little one, like maybe you didn't pay a traffic ticket, or some dick egged your apartment and you told them where they could shove it in front of the wrong soccer mom. The judge says hey, okay, that wasn't very good. But it was probably just a little lesson you forgot to learn along the way that led you to your Mistake, so you're sentenced to be de-aged a year and you're given a counselor who's supposed to help guide you onto a better path this time around.

But let's say the crime is bigger. You threw a major party and then drove drunk and high on heroin and ran over someone's dog. You commit armed robbery. Someone got seriously hurt, repeatedly. A guidance counselor for a year isn't going to cut it, so that's when the jury steps in and tries to figure out where your life went wrong. Was it at sixteen the first time you shoplifted and got away with it? At ten, when your teacher told you your work would never be any good? At eight, when your mom started working three jobs because she was suddenly raising you alone? And then you get zapped back to the pivotal age and placed in The Womb so you can be Reborn.

Somehow in all their planning the academics and the politicians forgot to bank on the allure of avoiding all those five hundred-year-old wrinkles and arthritis for a couple hundred extra years. Most people when they hit four hundred rob a bank at fake-gunpoint. That's the biggest crime that's least likely to get them killed rather than de-aged. That, or they get involved in some sort of tax fraud scheme. What's losing access to a couple million when you're going to die soon anyway? A second chance at life has got to be worth at least that.

The worst offenders get de-aged all the way back to babies, but that doesn't happen very often. It can seriously shorten your life if you end up a repeat offender, and anyway raising babies is more resource-intensive than the other kids. You have to kill a whole lot of people in a whole lot of lives to make it worth the parents' time.

The years you de-age get borrowed off the end of your life. As long as you avoid any more Mistakes, you get those years back and get to live out your original life span in full, with the bonus of a second childhood thrown in. But if you make another Mistake, you lose them forever, and have to live with it. That's how come I've only got two years left to take over the world.

I have been twelve years-old seven times. The last time I was Reborn, I'd made it all the way to age three hundred and fifty before I made another Mistake.

"You gonna eat that?"

We Reborn may have to use our manners, but for some reason the Womb Workers are exempt.

I sit up straight, elbows off the table, and look at my pudding. "My spoon is dirty."

They pick up the spoon, squint at it, rub it on their apron, then return it to the table. "You going to eat that now?"

The pudding looks delicious, actually, full of real chocolate shavings and cherry jam and cream liquor. If I let myself look at it any longer, I might cave. So I look at the Worker instead. They look like they could use some prune juice.

"This spoon is dirty. I would like a new spoon."

The Worker opens their mouth, probably to tell me where I can shove the spoon, when Ren interrupts in a tiny voice, "You've got to say please."

This is Ren's second time Reborn. She's six years old now. When she was twenty-one she was sent back for planting an eco-bomb, and for again stealing an entire corporate farm when she was ninety. She's got an impressive file; we could be a good team eventually. I like her. But, regretfully, I no longer have the time.

"Please," I say, and smile real sweet.

The Worker takes the spoon from my hand with a measured precision that means they would much rather stab me with it, and give a little bow.

"Tell Jeremy he needs to pay more attention; the spoon was dirty!" I holler after them after they've passed into the kitchen, to everyone else at the table's disapproval.

Because this is my seventh time in The Womb, I've been placed in a high-security house, with experienced Grandparents rather than normal Parents and bars on all the windows under the cheerful blue and yellow curtains. I've also only got five siblings rather than the usual nine; Ren is the littlest, and Matthew is the oldest at seventeen. The rest of us hover around the dining room table in the throws of those terrible years right on the cusp of puberty, and we've all got the lanky self-awareness to match. Really, the jury should have forgiven me the second they realized my pivotal moment was at twelve, or at least written me off as a lost cause. What preteen doesn't want to take over the world? How was living through that desire again and again supposed to make me desire it any less? But we've established the establishment isn't very smart about the details of redemption. They just want to Save the Children, or at least look enough like they are to appeal to the constituents a couple times a year. Statistics to the contrary are handily swept aside as anti-love.

Everyone here has taken a wood chipper to someone else's moral fabric, most more than once. Even the Grandparents have been Reborn once each, although they won't tell me how come. Just that it's part of the job requirement, so they can relate to where we're at on our journeys or something disgustingly syrupy like that. I'll miss them the least.

The Womb Worker reappears at my left elbow. Another little bow, definitely sarcastic this time, and then they hold out a silvered fork. "Jeremy says all the spoons are dirty, but he offered an extra fork. The pudding is thick; this should serve just as well."

Finally. I accept the fork and dig in with an admirably restrained glee, I think. The pudding tastes sweeter knowing that it will be my last meal in this place.

Jeremy is old hat, been with the place since it opened basically, and is the only Worker authorized to visit every Home because he's worked his way up from day cook to Head of the Households. The first time I met him (on accident, during a poorly planned slip during my first sentence, involving a new bouquet of flowers every day until the home was buried in chrysanthemums and little baby's daisies and Womb Workers had to come and confiscate them all) he told me about his First Home, in Libya. It's taboo to talk about First Homes, not because it's illegal or anything or even really frowned upon. It just makes people sad. But Jeremy smiled as he told me about the fried dates and bsisa, the ironic wetlands and sprawling steppes and the big sky full of birds over everything all the time, the migrations. About the little lizards, the way they sashayed when he chased them down the streets. He made me forget almost everything and believe I'd grown up in Libya too. I volunteered for kitchen duty every night after in hopes he'd be that night's cook.

He climbed the ladder and I followed behind him to each new role, begging for stories about Libya, and about The Womb too, since he knows everything there is to know about it. Including, of course, how to get out. It wasn't hard to bribe him. Just two more rebirths of a little bit of smiling, a little bit of begging, and I've now had six life cycles to practice my hand at money laundering. Jeremy is four hundred and ninety-five this year. It's time for him to bail.

The pudding is gone too soon, and I lick my lips and immediately wish I had some Vasoline. They’re dry, and they sting. "I'm not feeling well. May I please be excused?"

Ren's tiny face looks doubtful and a couple of the other kids look intrigued, but Grandnanna is a warm, benevolent rock. "Do you need me to grab a basket?"

"I don't think so. I think I just need to lie down."

"Let me feel your head."

"It's my stomach," I protest, but go to her nonetheless. I'm up from the table, which means I'm almost in the clear.

She puts the back of her hand against my forehead and cheeks, then turns to rattle in the credenza behind her seat at the head of the table. "Richard, can you grab me the thermometer please? I forgot I moved it to the study when that cough went around last month."

"I'm kind of dizzy. I just want to lie down." I cross my arms and hunch my shoulders and do my best to turn excitement into flush agitation. Grandnanna (what a laugh; she's younger than me by a century, at least) purses her lips.

Then she steps back, and sighs. Good for her – she’s learned how to pick her battles. Probably why she’s still only been reborn once. "Grab a clean towel from the cupboard on your way up."

I finished my part of our plan this morning - digging out each of the security features in the home and bypassing them with a wire or a code I custom-wrote before my latest de-age debacle. The bars are just a formality now. But that's the most I could do on my own. It was up to Jeremy to arrange the rest - reaching out to my old contacts, setting up the weekend lecture series, making sure the Grandparents are out, finding a Sitter with enough moral ambiguity to agree to pack their overnight stuff in over-large luggage and to not ask questions. It was a lot of work, and he hasn’t said it but he’s going to negotiate for a better cut once we're free and clear. At least fifty percent. That's a cliché, but it’s fine. I can do those too. Not everyone makes it to five hundred. There won't be any questions when he’s never heard from again.

The corridor to my room is lined with photos doctored to look original, of the seven of us in this home, and each door has an initial painted in well-meaning green that comes off as military in the dim light. I dutifully grab a towel from the closet and go to my room, draping the towel over my pillow and curling up under the fluffy comforter. Once I bust out there will be no niceties, at least for a couple of months. Definitely no pudding. I close my eyes and sink into the bed. I dream myself a feast.

~D.E. Scevers

#amwriting #writing #creative writing #short story #flash fic #danzer writes

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lubdubsworld · 6 years

Text

Yours, Truly.

Kim taehyung x OC

Surprise !! i wrote a new fic!!!!!

Part 1

“He’s going to prison, Y/n. There’s really no way around this. Corporate espionage while working for the most ruthless CEO in the country: was your husband out of his goddamn mind? Did he honestly think he wouldn’t get caught? Taehyung is one of the smartest guys in the country . Wonho honestly fucked up big time, this time around, Y/N… I really don’t see how he’s getting out of this unscathed….” Yoongi shook his head repeatedly and I bit my lips, willing myself not to collapse entirely.

Over the course of a few days, my entire life had been thrown into complete chaos. Last week, Wonho and I had been talking about getting a new car, the one we owned now having far outlived its capability. He’d told me that he had been saving money to maybe take me out on a small vacation to Jeju Do. And we had even been talking about possibly starting a family.

But then everything had come crumbling down and now, my husband of six years was in prison, accused of stealing important product designs from his company and the CEO, Kim Taehyung , was pressing charges , seeking the maximum term.

I bit my lips, hoping desperately that Taehyung’s vicious attack had nothing to do with our history. It had been so many years since we had broken up (could I even call it that? We hadn’t even dated each other properly, had we? We’d been too young for that. Eighteen years old and floating in our own sense of self importance).

We had both been young and reckless back then, and we had made mistakes. Words had been said, cruel unforgivable but surely, surely the sting of it had faded for him just like it had for me? Did he really still resent me for what had happened?

We had both moved on, hadn’t we? It wasn’t like Tae to hold grudges.

“You don’t understand. Taehyung is a friend. He’s… we grew up together. He’s not cruel or unreasonable, he’ll understand. “I said, wishing I could believe my own words.

“He’s not unreasonable but he isn’t a fool, Y/N. Wonho shouldn’t have done what he did. I’m surprised you’re actually on his side.” Yoongi gave me a look and I flushed.

“I’m not on his side. He’s my husband, Yoongi. I can’t just leave him because he made a mistake. Everyone makes ill-advised decisions. You know that it was probably not him who decided to do this… someone tricked him into it. Wonho would never do something like that.” I said firmly.

Yoongi grunted.

“You’re right. He’s too much of a coward to come up with something like that, anyway.” He said sharply and I flinched. It was a little true. Wonho had never been brave when it came to things. But I had loved him nonetheless and I knew that he didn’t deserve to go to prison over one stupid choice. I couldn’t let that happen.

“So are you saying there’s no way we can defend him?” I asked miserably and Yoongi nodded.

“You can only talk to Taehyung and maybe convince him to go easy on him. I don’t see this turning out well for us , otherwise.”

I nodded. I’d been coming to terms with this for quite a while and I thought I was ready. I could do this. This wasn’t some awful monster. This was Taehyung. I could still remember us, together, holding hands as we picked our way through his grandmother’s fields, carefree and young. The Taehyung of my childhood had been kind and handsome and so beautifully generous.

Surely, he couldn’t have changed that much?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As I rode the elevator, up to the fifty sixth floor, I gazed out of the glass doors, the bustling offices, the employees as they rushed about the busy day. The place looked like something out of a movie, the towering pillars and polished furnishings letting everyone know just how big Kim Corp., was . And Taehyung was the undisputed king of this sprawling, successful empire. I stared around the men and women , who rushed about doing their duty and I wondered how Wonho had ever been so foolish. It wasn’t like him to be so reckless. All our lives, we had lived boring drab lives. Cautious in every decision and in every life choice. How did the man decide that it was okay to betray the company that had done so much for him.

Wonho had joined Kim corp., as an intern, when we had both been seniors in college . Back then, Taheyung’s elder brother Namjoon had been running the company temporarily and Tae himself had been studying abroad to take over the company. Wonho hadn’t been the smartest guy but he had always been a really hard worker and the company hadn’t ended his internship and instead they had offered him a position as a junior engineer. He had been twenty two then. And now, seven years later, Wonho had just thrown it all into the dust heap because he couldn’t resist temptation.

I felt the first bit of resentment, coupled with anger.

Did he not care about me? About us? About how his actions would affect our marriage? How could anyone be so foolish and irresponsible?

I gripped the strap of my bag a little tighter, trying to ground myself. I was so nervous and just a little scared. What if he didn’t even remember me? God that would be embarrassing.

“Mr. Kim is free for an hour right now. You can meet him immediately.” The young lady standing next to me gave me a bright smile, eyes warm and kind. She had introduced herself as Taehyung’s secretary and on the ride up; she had shown me a couple of pictures of her dog, and her two toddlers.

The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open, revealing a large open plan office, with sprawling free space, tasteful furniture and glass walls all over. I glanced automatically at the corner office, where, sure enough , a tall strapping figure stood facing away from us, bent over a sideboard.

I swallowed nervously.

I hadn’t seen Taehyung in a long time. At least a year or so just physically. Wonho and Taehyung didn’t really run in the same circles and the only two occasions we’d met had been during formal office parties and even then, we hadn’t ever exchanged words. Taehyung was always surrounded by his board members or his gorgeous model girlfriend , Yeonhee.

We hadn’t spoken in close to a decade.

I bowed politely as his secretary left, taking a deep breath before cautiously making my way to the entrance to his office. He straightened when I knocked politely and as always, I felt the breath get punched out of my lung at the sight of him.

Taehyung was frighteningly beautiful and I wondered how people stayed next to him on a day to day basis. His good looks, his tall strapping stature and the deep, deep tenor of his voice all screamed intimidation.

“I thought Sia was mistaken. It really is you. Long time , huh? ” He said after a minute of just staring at me.

I licked my lips nervously.

“Hello, Tae.” I said softly and he smiled a little.

“Come in. Take a seat.” He turned on his heel, moving to stand behind the huge oak desk that took over most of the space in his office. I watched as he leaned against the polished surface, fingers playing with his cufflinks as he continued to stare at me, eyes roving over my face, the modest cut of my dress and down to my hands, as they lay clasped on my lap. His gaze lingered on the simple white band of my wedding ring and I noticed the way he swallowed , looking back up at me with an unreadable look on his face.

I bit my lips for a second and decided to just do what I’d come here for.

“you probably know what this is about… “ I began softly but he held a hand up.

“Is this about your husband. Y/N… He leaked information about a product I haven’t even patented yet. If my team hadn’t caught it so fast, I could have ended up losing billions of dollars.” He said shortly.

I stared down at my knees, embarrassed.

“I’m … I know you have every right to be mad. I just…. I want you to know that Wonho would never do something like that on his own. Someone put him up to it, I’m sure of it… I just…”

Taehyung scoffed.

“you’re right. Someone did put him up to it. But that still doesn’t change the fact that he chose to go through with it. He chose to steal. And choices have consequences.” He said shortly.

“Taehyung, please… I know you’re upset but please go easy on him, I swear he didn’t mean it, please could you just-“

“Before you continue, I want you to know that nothing you say is going to change my mind about pressing charges. I’m trying to do the right thing here. Your husband did something criminal and downright sleazy but I don’t want his name dragged through the mud . “ He stopped and his eyes softened, gaze warm as he looked at me.

He continued with a much gentler tone.

“I’m doing it for you , Y/N. You’re …someone special to me and I respect you enough to not put you through the every public scandal of having a criminal for a husband. So I’m being generous. If he doesn’t put up a fight, he can just serve his time, maybe even less than ten years and he can be out on parole even earlier. I’m not being cruel. In fact, I think I’m being way more reasonable than I ought to be…”

I nodded. It felt rude to pursue the subject when he was being so nice about the whole thing. And deep down, I knew he was right.

I stood up slowly and hesitated a little.

“I’m really… I’m sorry we had to meet this way. I’m very proud of you, Tae.” I said genuinely and he smiled levelly.

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, you’ll always be special.” He said voice deep and low. It tugged on my heartstrings and I had a sudden overwhelming urge to cry. Long and hard.

“You’re… you’re special too.” I said.

“Take good care of yourself, Y/N.” He said gently and I nodded before turning and walking out of the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I reached home, fumbling with my bag for the keys to our shared apartment, I found Yoongi sitting on the small wall on the side, feet tapping impatiently on the floor and he jumped down when he saw me, eyes serious and mouth set in a straight line.

“Yoongi? What’s wrong?” I said confused and he swore a little.

“Your husband is a bigger son of a bitch than I thought!” He said urgently.

I frowned.

“What? What are you talking about?”

“We can’t talk about this here. Come on, let’s go in.” Yoongi grabbed the key out of my hand and fumbled with the key. Once the door was opened, I followed him in , heart racing .

“What happened? What’s wrong?” I said desperately and he groaned sinking into the couch.

“Y/N, before I start, please tell me you have an account of your own with money saved. “ He whispered and I felt my stomach turn over nervously.

“What? No… of course not. I’m… Wonho and I had a joint account , what’s wrong?”

Yoongi stared at me.

“your account is empty.” He said bluntly and I froze.

“what?”

“Your account. There’s nothing in it. The guy’s bankrupt.”

“Yoongi what are you even talking about? We’re.. We were supposed to be buying a car, and going on a vacation. He told me he saved money and stuff .” I stared at him in complete confusion.

“Y/N…listen to me carefully. He was cheating on you for a long time.” He whispered , reaching out and wrapping an arm around me.

I laughed in disbelief.

“What? That’s impossible..” I said sutomatically staring at him .

“I had to go through all his finances and he spent all his money on this woman . “ He grabbed his briefcase and fumbled with it before pulling out a file. He slid it to me and I stared at the papers. Pages on pages of bank transactions. I stared at the vendors.

Dior, Gucci , Tiffany’s.

Expensive restaurants. Resorts. Fashion Boutiques. Salons. Car rental places.

I could only stare .

“What…who?” I whispered, confused and utterly thrown. It felt like someone had ripped the ground right from under my feet and I couldn’t draw in my next breath. This couldn’t be real. There was no way Wonho would cheat on me. Calm, placid Wonho who called me baby and loved me with his whole heart. Who made me pancakes in the morning and piggy backed me across the beach every weekend.

There was no way my husband would cheat on me. The very idea of it was insane. Wonho was so awkward and gentle. How would he even…

“it gets worse…” Yoongi said softly and I stared at him.

“Worse?”

“The woman he’s been seeing, she’s the one who made him steal all that data from the servers . she’s the daughter of one of Taehyung’s rival companies apparently. The girl is in college. And he’s taken an insane amount of loans from different places. Apparently she has a thing for sport cars and he’s rented a bunch of them over the past six months.”

I felt bile rise up inside me in a rush and had to clamp my hand over my mouth before running to the bathroom. I hurled into the porcelain sink, my stomach emptying of its content and my gut twisted in pain and betrayal.

Wonho cheated on me. He cheated on me with some woman and possibly destroyed my whole life in the process.

I took a deep shuddering breath, flinching when I felt Yoongi’s soothing touch on my back.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” He said gently and I stared at him.

“How bad is it?”I whispered.

“It’s bad. Y/N. You’re going to have to give up most of your possessions, the car and also the apartment.”

I whimpered in disbelief. I had been paying the mortgage on our modest but beautiful apartment for well over six years now. Every Won of my salary had gone into the apartment. Into maintaining it, setting it up, and making a home out of it.

He had destroyed everything.

“What do I do?” I said desperately. “ I can’t… I have nowhere else to go… Yoongi… “

“First things first. We’re filing for divorce and cutting him off. You don’t want to get roped into this anymore, Y/N…”

“Wait..no…” I said softly and he stared at me like I was crazy.

“What do you mean, no?” He said sharply and I swallowed.

“I… I need to see him. I need to meet him, please…” I begged. Maybe it was all a mistake. A misunderstanding? It could be right? Maybe it was some kind of identity theft or something. Maybe it wasn’t Wonho who did all those terrible things. These things happened, right? It was possible.

Yoongi just looked at me. Then he sighed deeply.

“He’s still being investigated. We can see him, but Taehyung’s lawyer is probably going to be present.” He said. “it’s better that way actually.”

I nodded. It didn’t matter.

I just had to see his face. I had to look him in the eye and hear him say it wasn’t true. That it was all just a mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He doesn’t want to see you.”

I just stared at the man, not understanding.

“What do you mean, he’s my husband ….I want to see him…” I said angrily.

“Well, he wanted me to inform you that he’ll be filing for divorce and that he’s also going to get another lawyer. As of today, Min Yoongi ssi, you will be taken off the case.”

“Well, good riddance.” Yoongi muttered under his breath next to me. “ Y/N… let’s go…”

“No!! I can’t just….!! “ I felt myself struggling to keep my composure. “ He’s my husband!! I was married to him for seven fucking years!! He … He just … He cheated on me and he emptied out all my money …. I need an explanation!!”

The man gave me an unimpressed look.

“Lady, I hate being involved but you should make yourself scarce. He’s got another woman in there with him and if you go in there, you’re only going to get hurt.”

“She’s… she’s there?” I whispered, wilting. Oh, God …I’d never suspected. Never even dreamed. Had I been that big of a fool?

The man nodded.

“She’s paying for his defence. Or at least that’s what she’s saying. You should cut your losses and get away from him. He seems like bad news.” The man said shortly, before turning and leaving.

I just stood there , staring after him.

“Hey.. Y/n… listen to me. He’s right. We need to get away from the guy. If you get involved things are goin g to get messy. Come on, sweetheart. Let’s go yes?”

I nodded bleakly staring at my feet as I walked away.

Seven years, I thought blankly.

It took less than two days to destroy something I had spent seven years building.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Late that night, I sat on the couch, head buried in my hands as I stared at the bills in front of me. My husband had sold a lot of things and I was essentially without a home and a car but Yoongi had removed my name from most of the other loans. He had contacts and he used them well, which meant that I wasn’t liable for all the money my husband borrowed against his own name.

But it still left me helpless.

I didn’t have enough money to rent another apartment. The money I made right now, as a secretary at one of the printing presses downtown, about now was no match to what my bills would be , if I had to live somewhere close to the office and buy groceries and pay my bills too.

It was a disaster.

I stayed hunched over my knees , wondering how I could dig myself out of this gutter when my phone buzzed.

I glanced at it curiously.

The number was unfamiliar.

“Hello?” I said confused.

“Y/N?” Taehyung’s voice was hesitant and distinct, my mind making the connection at once.

“Tae?”

“You recognized me?” There was a bit of a pleased tone in his voice. “ I just… my lawyer told me what happened today? How are you holding up?”

I stared at the papers on my table, a nice testament to how my life was currently in shambles.

“I’m…fine I guess. I didn’t see it coming.” I laughed nervously.

“He’s asick son of a bitch. I’m going to pummel him into the ground. Just wait.” Taehyung said stiffly and I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“Tae, please….”

“I’m serious. I almost broke his fucking jaw when I heard…. That fucking imbecile… Who in their right mind would cheat on-“ He stopped , as though he had said too much and I felt warmth bloom inside me.

“I’m okay. I’ll be okay…”

Taehyung didn’t respond for a second.

“I spoke to Yoongi hyung too…” He said softly.

“Oh…? Oh yeah. I forgot you guys know each other too…” I said apologetically.

“Yeah… Y/N… i… I have an offer and it may be silly but , please you should consider it.”

I frowned.

“Offer?”

“Yoongi told me that you’re looking for an apartment and a way to pay your bills. Your current job isn’t exactly the best, pay-wise?”

I flushed, suddenly upset.

“Yoongi had no business telling you that.. it’s not… It’s my own problem…” I said swiftly.

“No, no…it’s not his fault…he just mentioned it because of something I told him…”

“What?”

“I’m looking for a live-in housekeeper.” Taehyung said hesitantly . I straightened.

“You’re-“

“You’ll have food and lodging for free , in addition to your salary. You don’;t have to do much other than supervise the maids and make sure my meals are cooked on time and run my budget for the monthly expenses. Pay the workers and all that. It’s a relatively simple job and I was hoping…”

I took a deep breath.

“I can’t live with you Taehyung…” I rasped out, my voice breaking.

He was quiet for a second.

“I… I know we have a bit of a history, Y/N…but I really care about you and I hope you’ll reconsider. And it won’t be just me. You know Yeonhee lives with me right?” He said softly.

Somehow that just made the whole thing ten times worse.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I said swiftly. I remembered the few times I had seen Taehyung with his girlfriend. Each time my heart had hurt. I really didn’t need front row tickets to their love life. It sounded like the worst kind of masochism.

Taehyung was silent.

“the offer still stands. Please think about it , angel.” He said gently.

I felt my stomach lurch at the long forgotten name. A flash of memory that was just too painful to dwell on.

“Tae… Don’t call me that.” I whispered , feeling the tears sting.

“I’ll call you again after a couple of days, okay? Think about it.” He said softly before hanging up.

I stared at the floor in complete defeat. I’d forgotten how hard it was to say no to Kim Taehyung.

#taehyung smut #taehyung fics #bts smut #bts scenario #taehyung #bts v #v #v smut #bts kim taehyung

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quakerjoe · 7 years

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It's been a while since I've written a "Cuppa Joe" sermon, so to speak, and for that I apologize. I've been getting over-saturated by the news and haven't been in the mood. With that, I challenge you to read this. A "Shot of Joe" for the end of February... ----------------------------------------------------- Gun violence. It won’t end in our lifetimes here in the United States. We won’t see the end of it, but perhaps, just maybe our children or grandchildren will see a day when America is once again worthy of seeing themselves as the “Land of the Brave”. Right now, we simply aren’t, and it has a lot to do with the differences we all imagine as the End Game for our futures. Some seem to strive for a sort of Utopian society where we all have health coverage, free education on all levels, clean air and water, safe food, honest, livable wages for all, and a society where it no longer matters what color our flesh is or from where our ancestors come from or what religious backgrounds we have or what sexual preferences or genders we are. We’ll reach an age, with any luck, where we’re all just simply… Americans.

However, while some of us strive for that sort of end game in the US, there are others who crave a time more akin to the post-apocalyptic times seen in Mad Max films or they hope for a zombie apocalypse or some sort of breakdown of society where they can unleash their darkest desires, including crime without fear of punishment like rape and murder, the re-implementation of slavery, and moves to put women back where they “belong”; back in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant and free to beat and slap around for being “uppity”. You know; “Biblical Times”. Praise Jesus, right?

The fact remains that so long as we, as a nation, glorify war and death and murder, all for the selfish sake of owning guns, then we have no business thinking we’re free, because we’re not, and there’s no merit for even remotely considering ourselves brave. Last I checked, there isn’t a nation on the planet who can assemble any kind of army, traverse the massive oceans of the Atlantic or Pacific, reach our shores and invade us. Mexico will never have enough of an army to come close to being a match for our over-bloated military. Canada… They’re simply not interested and that’s not their style since forever as a nation of their own. (They did burn down the White House during the War of 1812, but they were British back then.)

Given the massive natural barriers between us and anyone who could possibly want to do harm to the US, it seems beyond INSANE that our military is so bloody huge. We’re already fairly untouchable, and the world knows it. They, like many of us, know that our military budget is only rivaled by that of the next 15+/- nations COMBINED after us, and all but one are allies. Most of THEM, on the other hand, have amazing health care systems and far better education systems. They invest in their PEOPLE and not corporations. They have better and more modern infrastructure. They’re fighting climate change. They’re not at war with other nations like the US is all around the world. They care for their troops and don’t just talk about it and put bumper stickers on their cars.

Essentially, Americans are, in general, totally full of shit, mostly empty thoughts, and blasphemous prayers that mean fuck-all nothing. It’s how they cope. What the hell is wrong with Americans? They’re the loudest, mouthiest, and chicken-shit nation there is today. Those in charge use the military as mercenaries for the rich and powerful private sector. We treat those poor patriots like they’re going off to save the world, but does anyone ever wonder who “wins” in these overseas operations? Who gets the goods in the aftermath? Big Pharma gets poppies from Afghanistan. Big Oil corporations get benefits from constantly destabilizing the Middle East, either through bullshit invasions like in Iraq, or through undercover ops via the CIA and private merc companies. Big. Fat. Rich. Fucks. They are the ones who reap the prizes from war. Our own troops get shot at for the privilege of putting on a uniform and being led to believe that they’re going on some sacred, patriotic crusade for Uncle Same and the country they love. Their prize? They get PTSD, debilitating wounds, lost time away from home, and pretty much fucked over and forgotten in the VA system and there’s never enough money in the Big Military Budget to take care of those who they conned into facing lethal force for a king they don’t know even exists. Their bravery and duty to country is taken advantage of by those who will use them to get more money, either for their own corporations, or from donors who put big wads of cash into a politician’s coffers. We watch on as corporate money bucks taxpayer money and gains control over politicians who USED to work for “We the People”. Too many politicians work for “We, the Corporations” and the rest of us can simply go to hell, plug in to whatever diversion makes you happy, and simply… fuck off. We let politicians go unchecked. Some of us have been screaming warnings about shit like “Citizens United” which essentially has made bribery LEGAL for politicians to receive. When a politician abused his/her power, he was held accountable to “We the Taxpayers” and be ousted in the next vote or thrown out of office through recalls and so forth. Now, politicians are expected to get a return on investment for their rich donors who now get massive tax breaks while the rest of us are being lined up for slaughter because it is easier to rob a million dollars from a million people, one buck at a time, than it is to steal a cool mil from one rich fucker in one go.

The guns… Oh, the guns! It’s a religion in the US. People are simply just that selfish. Knowing FULL WELL that if there were fewer guns, people would be safer, people will NEVER give them up. That would take empathy, consciousness, conscience, and total honesty, not to mention… BRAVERY. I mean, like I mentioned earlier, we’re nowhere NEAR to any danger of being invaded. We already have a method for overthrowing the government; it’s called “SHOW UP AND FUCKING VOTE”. If you don’t like what’s going on, RUN FOR OFFICE. But give up guns? Hell no! Americans are afraid of just about everything, the worst being white dudes. Old ones. Young ones. Generation after generation, they’re bred into fear; fear of everything not white-cist-male-heterosexual and of course “Christian”. Because, you know, Jesus LOVES the AR-15 and I’ve always seen him as a sort of fifty caliber Desert Eagle carrying motherfucker, don’t you? Americans are afraid of each other. They’re afraid, like the Native Americans before them, of immigrants. You see, once you fuck someone over, you get paranoid. You’re afraid that what you did will turn around someday and come to bite you in the ass. Genocide of the Native Population. African Slavery. Religious altercations against non-Christians. Keeping women from being equals at home and in the workplace. Going overseas and shooting up the place so we can rob them of their resources to make the rich even more wealthy. Keeping the LGBTQ community hidden, repressed in the shadows and imprisoned in their closets for fear of being fired, brutally beaten or even tortured and killed. One day, there is that possibility that ALL of that could come together and bit a white man in the ass. The harshest, most brutal parts of American history were all committed by…. Wait for it… WHITE DUDES! It’s why they’re the biggest gun nuts and ammosexuals there are on planet Earth. They know their time of supremacy is coming to an end. Not all of them are on “their side”. There are those, and in ever increasing numbers, who want that Utopian society with all the clean air, food and water, livable, honest wages, and for ALL citizens of our nation to prosper and live decent lives and not have to be homeless and to live in squalor. ALL of us. Americans. Even the shitbags, chicken-shit gun nuts. That’s what being a Liberal and a Progressive means, kids. No more super-rich assholes buying our government for their own self interests. No more abusing our patriotic military to use as cannon fodder for profit. No more shafting rules that deliver justice and that protect and serve “We the People”. We won’t see it. We’ll grow too old, as we work ourselves to death because retirement is no longer an option for survival anymore. We’ll die younger and younger because only those of privilege can afford health care while the safety net programs leave more and more “We the People” out in the cold to starve to death or to die of poor health. We’ll be dead because our water is getting contaminated; our air getting more dangerous to breathe; our food becoming a corporate mob owned operation that’ll have us by the short hairs to keep us all docile and in line. We’re going to die, and not in a nation that’s brave or free.

The American Dream is just that. It’s time to wake up and decide if we’re going to pursue that dream, or let it all slip away into the nightmares that lie on the horizon because not enough of us are learned enough to see what’s going on. Not enough of us are mobilized to get politically active. That’s part of why keeping us all poor works for the rich and powerful. If we can’t afford to take time off from one of our several jobs needed to survive, we can’t afford to march, protest, or support candidates who want that Utopian End Game. Keeping us stupid, by buying up all the media outlets and only telling us what they want us to know and keeping us divided (divide and conquer; heard of that before?) keeps us from coming together as the “We” in “We the People”. Keeping our children stupid keeps this ball rolling, and shafting the education system repeatedly is well on its way to achieving that. Add to that: School Massacres! As people become more and more afraid of sending their kids to school, what will they do?

Three choices are before them. First, Home Schooling; keeping children stunted and limited in their educational input because face it- parents are not all rocket scientists and parents cannot all teach their children well enough on their own. “It takes a village”, they say, or at least a proper, public school. Second, if you’ve got the coin, there may be private schools and they’re typically religious-based, jamming their religion into you while you’re trying to learn basic math. Lastly, for the growing masses of the not-so-well-to-do, there’s fuck-all nothing. No school. Keep the masses dumb, and let them get into the work force as soon as possible. There’s always the military. We’ve already been warned that the influx of applicants to our armed forces is overrun with the not-so-bright and that it’s a matter of national security because they’re not intelligent enough to do the really important jobs needed in our armed forces. The rich love that shit. Keep the kids fed with “America is the Best!” and “USA! USA! USA!” when they haven’t a fucking clue why they’re saying it. Keep them all armed, because gun deaths maintain the fear the rich and powerful crave. Keep the general population stupid and paranoid and they can rule supreme forever, right? Possibly. We shall see.

~Quaker Joe

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canchewread · 4 years

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Editor’s note: so as I mentioned in my last post, I’m migrating some content over to this site from Facebook because of Zuckerbergs head-up-his-butt decision to ban antifascist and anarchist accounts. I haven’t been banned yet, but I’m not interested in losing my content if it happens. This journal is a re-post from my Facebook page and originally appeared on March 17th, 2020.

March 17th, 2020 – Debate Fallout (Literally)

Despite my overwhelming reservations, I, like millions of other Americans locked inside their homes to wait out Captain Tripps, spent the better part of my Sunday evening watching the Democratic Party nomination contest debate between Bernie Sanders and Joe Biden.

The debate itself was pretty much like all of the previous debates, which is to say, in a word – infuriating. If anyone can really have been said to be the “winner” of this contest, it was unquestionably Sanders but if American democratic socialists were hoping he’d just come out and destroy a completely incoherent Biden, they were undoubtedly disappointed. Bernie fell far short of saying what everyone following this race already knows to be true – that Joe Biden’s brain doesn’t work and his best chance of actually beating Trump in the fall rests on some combination of mass deaths caused by coronavirus and cheap Russian oil crashing the U.S. petrodollar.

If anything, the debate was most memorable for the simple fact that Joe Biden spent the entire evening demonstrating that while he can’t tell his wife from his sister, he’s still capable of lying his butt off like a champ if the situation requires it. Please understand that I’m not talking about one lie here, or even Palooka Joe’s altogether routine habit of twisting the truth; Joe Biden went on CNN and bald-faced lied over and over while demonstrating the ability to falsify his publicly documented record in government on issues both large and small. Biden lied about his crusade to cut social security, his opposition to abortion rights, his opposition to the New Green Deal and the (late) timing of his conversion from an opponent of gay marriage, to a supporter. Palooka Joe also falsely accused Bernie of having 9 Super Pacs (Sanders has zero), he once again lied about his support for the Iraq war; from the Hyde amendment to Medicare for All, Joe Biden falsified not only his current policy positions, but his entire voting record as a government official – at one point, Joe literally said he hated the Bankruptcy Bill he himself f*cking wrote.

While the naive among us might have expected CNN’s (corporate media) moderators to step in and insist Biden stop selling whoppers like the debate stage is a Burger King take-out line, it will surprise no one who has followed the ongoing media machinations to destroy Bernie that this did not occur. Furthermore, the fact that Joe Biden objectively lied to the viewing audience, about verifiable matters of historical record, on at least twelve occasions during the debate didn’t seem to even rate a mention during the post-debate liberal media news roundtables that gleefully called the debate a win for Biden – a curious position considering the exact same “liberal” news organizations and in most cases the same pundits rated Mike Pence a loser against wooden ventriloquist’s dummy Tim Kaine in 2016, for adopting essentially the same strategy Biden did against Sanders – as soon as the cameras start rolling, Pence started to lie and simply don’t stop lying until the debate was over.

Yes my friends, for the astute observer the actual debate itself was merely a sideshow to the extremely revealing post-debate chatter of our in-pocket, pro-elite, for profit media minions. As I sat back and watched what is ultimately just the latest act in corporate “liberal” media’s efforts to elect a center right establishment Democrat and destroy Bernie Sanders (as well as the democratic socialist movement as a whole), I found myself wondering if the Democratic Party and their elite media allies even understood that with each bald-faced lie, and open act of duplicity, they were moving inexorably closer to becoming the architects of their own demise. You cannot of course fool all of the people, all of the time and anyone who actually watched that debate and thought the big news in the morning was Biden’s flavorless promise to nominate an as of yet unnamed woman for Vice President, and not the fact that Joe lied all night at a rate that would make even Downmarket Mussolini himself blush, is probably already working for CAP anyway.

As shameful and alarming as the media’s performance on behalf of Biden was however, even *I* wasn’t really ready for the caronavirus subplot that played out after Bernie suggested that it was irresponsible to continue running the primary contests while the CDC is begging Americans to avoid groups larger than fifty people and the President himself is telling folks on TV that even gatherings of ten people aren’t safe. Sanders is of course right and that fact is becoming increasingly more obvious by the hour as the whole western world shifts towards a pandemic-induced lockdown; despite this however, the Democratic Party is going to run four primaries later today, even though doing so will undoubtedly help spread COVID-19 and indeed, cost lives. Perhaps more alarmingly however, the entire Democratic establishment including Joe Biden’s campaign itself, as well as noted liberal luminary influencers like CAP’s Neera Tanden and MSNBC’s Joy Ann Reid have responded as if delaying primaries Sanders isn’t going to win no matter when they are held, represents some kind of plot to steal the nomination from Joe Biden – a nomination that they feel belongs to the center-right establishment now, since they already stole it with rigged primaries and potentially a billion dollars worth of free media smears on Sanders. Grimly enough, the liberal establishment has actually gone so far as to declare wandering out in a pandemic to vote for Joe Biden a moral duty for Democrats in America; one woman even compared doing so to surviving the middle passage - a position that could objectively be described as “insane” if that term didn’t somehow fall to cover how crass all of this is.

As grim as it might be, I think it’s important that we face the facts here – we know how coronavirus spreads, we know that it’s disproportionately dangerous (and even potentially fatal) for people over sixty-five and we know that older voters are overwhelmingly going for Joe Biden in this primary fight. There is absolutely no f*cking way on earth you can tell me that Bernie and the left are trying to steal an already crooked as f*ck race by acting to… save the lives of Joe Biden voters in a nomination contest that Biden is going to win no matter *when* or *how* folks get to vote. Indeed it was initially impossible for me to understand what line of logic the sh*tlibs were pursuing in arguing that it was somehow wrong to ensure senior voters got to cast a ballot without potentially suffocating to death in agony for their troubles; it wasn’t until I waded deep into the comments section and noticed that most of the hired Dem Party online mercenaries couldn’t help but mention they wanted the primaries to end as fast as possible so Bernie would shut the f*ck up, that I was even able to grasp the horrifying endgame being played out here.

Look, I’m not a Harvard graduate but I don’t think it takes a genius to realize that “you should f*cking literally die so your corporate overlords can install Joe Biden and silence the left” isn’t exactly a message that endears you to the base – it’s one thing to lie to people on behalf of a desiccating mummy like Palooka Joe, but it’s entirely another to directly tell them you think grandma is an acceptable sacrifice on the altar of neoliberalism if it means maintaining corporate rule and the supremacy of elite capital.

In other words, expect rain.

- nina illingworth

Update: in the time since this post was written, Ohio has suspended its primary contest today (most likely until July 2nd) – as of yet, Democrats in Illinois, Arizona and Florida are still being encouraged to put their life on the line for Joe Biden’s nomination campaign.

Independent writer, critic and analyst with a left focus. Please help me fight corporate censorship by sharing my articles with your friends online!

You can find my work at ninaillingworth.com, Can’t You Read, Media Madness and my Patreon Blog

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“It’s ok Willie; swing heil, swing heil…”

#politics #2020 Dem Primary #Debate Night #Joe Biden #Bernie Sanders #corporate media #liar #repost #Facebook journal #Thanks Zuck

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fuzzballsheltiepants · 7 years

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The Forging of the Wolf, Chapter 6

Aedion’s saga continues. Read Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Mild trigger warning for mention of suicidal thoughts.

Aedion paused at the edge of the training field and knelt stiffly to fiddle with his boot. Not that he could do much to fix it with one hand. The morning had passed in a blur, and Raedan had been spectacular. He wondered vaguely how Raedan had come up with the perfect story for his bruised face, but the silly tale of breaking into the kitchens and stealing ale worked, not least because it was something every boy there had done at least once before. And combining ale with the sleeping draft from the healer probably would have been a bad idea that may well have led to him passing out and smashing his face against the doorjamb and the stoop.

An added bonus was that being hungover was a realistic reason for him to have immediately turned and vomited his guts out when he caught the scent of one of the other boys’ morning release. And for him barely being able to manage breakfast at all.

But now Raedan was off for his morning of kitchen duty, and Aedion was here facing down the men he trained with. He took one deep breath, then another. Pushing the heels of his hands into his thighs, he was just about to rise when a voice behind him said his name. He surged to his feet, cursing himself for not having heard the approach, and whipped around to see the brown-eyed officer who had complimented him after the fight. Pulling himself together, he gave the small bow of protocol and waited.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle - good gracious, son, what happened to you?”

Aedion gave as cocky a grin as he could manage. “Oh, I, uh, took a sleeping draft from the healer last night. I didn’t realize how quickly it would work. I don’t remember too much but apparently I went down like a sack of grain in the doorway and hit my head on the doorjamb.”

The man looked skeptical. “Really? A sleeping draft?”

His smile turning sheepish, Aedion added, “There may have also been some ale involved…”

The man gave a wry chuckle and shook his head. “Well, anyway, I’ve been looking for you. I’d like you to come with me for the morning.” His voice and aspect were pleasant, and he smelled clean, but still Aedion’s muscles locked up. He glanced across the field now with longing. “It’s okay,” the other man said, misinterpreting his look. “Lieutenant Dale has already been advised that you and a few of the other men will be missing training today.”

The knowledge that he would not be facing the officers alone unfroze him, and he nodded and fell into step. As they walked, the man introduced himself as Corporal Taber from Anielle. They ended up back in the dining hall, breakfast being over, and he was relieved to see Torr and Cobden, boys from his barracks, among the men gathered. The rest were all among the younger set of experienced soldiers who had fought against Terrasen, and Aedion knew them by sight but not name. They all nodded tightly at each other, and then the officer called for them all to take their seats.

What followed was a session on training strategy that brought Aedion back to his weekly meetings with Rhoe. Corporal Taber was bright, warm, and engaging, and Aedion soon found himself falling into his old habit of asking questions and debating finer points. The other men joined in, and soon there was a lively discussion such as he had not witnessed since Orynth. After an hour or so, the door to the hall opened and two people entered. He ignored them, caught up in the question one of the young men, Litton, was asking, when abruptly he smelled that peculiar metal scent. His heart stopped, then ratcheted up to a pace that made him breathless. When he heard them take a seat, and another, warm human smell hit him, he was able to follow that second scent out of the threatening panic. Logic spoke up then, reminding him that Malins was hardly going to attack him here in front of everyone, and with an effort he drew his focus back to the conversation.

***** It was an effort for Taber to not focus overmuch on the boy. Despite the fact that he had to be feeling like shit, he was the most animated of the prospects, excelling on drawing the others in. Between the ferocity and skill of the fight yesterday and blatant intelligence he was displaying today, this Ashryver prince was like no one the corporal had ever seen in his eighteen years of being an officer. If he proved half as adept as he appeared, he’d be a general by twenty - unheard of in Adarlan.

Taber had a hard time believing Aedion’s story about the sleeping draft. While those things could knock out a horse, especially if mixed with ale, the careful way he moved indicated further injuries than just the bruises on his face. Grimly, he remembered the vicious look that Balam man had given Aedion following the dressing-down he received from Lieutenant Dale and wondered. Not that the prick could have handled the boy on his own, but if he gathered a few of his friends and ambushed him…

Malins and Sanburne entered silently about halfway through the scheduled session, seating themselves unobtrusively by the door behind the table to observe. Taber didn’t acknowledge them, not wanting to disrupt the rapport building among the recruits. He couldn’t help but see, though, Aedion freeze when he somehow heard the men and realized who had joined them. A flicker of panic touched those bizarre eyes and every muscle went rigid for a moment before he shook himself and re-entered the conversation as if nothing had happened. Taber’s eyes flicked to his colleagues and recognized with a sinking feeling in his gut the look of triumph in Malins’ black eyes.

Not Balam, then. Malins. And he knew - they all knew - what Malins did to men he deemed insubordinate.

*****

Staggering with exhaustion, Delaney nearly wept with relief when she saw the rundown old barn in the field. She had run all night and half the morning through the woods, stumbling over fallen logs and rocks, slipping on wet leaves. It was her first time away from the fort since she had been a small child, and she had no idea where it was in relation to anything in Adarlan. All she knew was Aedion’s directive: go north to the river crossing. Thankfully she’d been around soldiers enough she had learned how to tell direction by the stars, such as she could see through the trees. Not long after dawn, the forest had thinned and she had skimmed along the edge, staying out of sight of any houses or roads, scanning for a safe place to rest. The barn door had rotted out, so she just crawled through the hole rather than opening it. Dragging herself up the ladder into the loft, she collapsed onto the pile of musty hay and was lost to sleep within seconds.

The sun was nearing the horizon when she awoke, chilled and wracked with thirst. In the light that filtered through the broken wood, she opened the satchel for the first time and sorted through it. She was startled to find clothes in her size, black lambswool pants like the stable boys wore; a linen tunic from the kitchen maids, and a heavy cream sweater. Two sets of socks. Ladies’ underthings. When Aedion had said there were clothes in there she had expected to be swimming in stuff sized for his freakish frame, but clearly this pack was meant for her. She wondered when he had hidden it. Digging deeper, she found a water skin and numerous small packets of dried meat, nuts, and crackers. The provisions they gave the boys when they practiced scouting. How long had he been holding his rations back? This was weeks’ worth, and enough to last her at least a few days if she found nothing else. A small coil of rope, another of fine wire, a flint, and a knife made up the rest of it.

Shucking her filthy dress, she hurriedly put on the clean, warm clothes. In the pocket of the pants she found a folded paper - a map, remarkably well-drawn, of Adarlan and Terrasen. And on the back, a note in his strong hand. The note seemed mostly nonsense - some story about fire. She suspected it was not intended for her.

What was he doing now, her lion-hearted friend? What had her sisters thought when she hadn’t come home? Raedan would take care of them as best he could, but he was in the barracks and always training or working now. Her mother… But there was no time to think of any of that now, she needed to find a source of fresh water before it grew dark. Tucking the map away she crept down the ladder and back through the hole in the door. If there was a farm, there must be water near by, and sure enough, she found a clean spring that led to a small stream right on the edge of the woods. She scooped water frantically into her mouth before filling the skin, then settling on a log and chewing on a strip of dried beef. Pulling the map back out of her pocket, she studied it in the failing light. The most direct path north would keep her away from what she guessed were mountains inked along the western edge, but would also take her out of the protection of the woods at some point. She debated the merits of staying more hidden versus speed. She didn’t know how far she had gone, but doubted she had gotten more than a few miles from the camp. Finishing the beef and more water, she smacked the map against her leg and stood, her decision made. She began picking her way carefully along the edge of the woods, the fields just visible to her right, as she put more miles between herself and those who might try to follow. In another few days she would shift her course, hoping the increased speed from traveling across fields would make up for the visibility. As the waxing crescent rose, she thought again of her sisters, their hopeful faces and ready laughter, and prayed to the forsaking gods that she had not saved herself only to doom the girls.

*****

Days passed in an unfamiliar mixture of slow haze and sharp clarity. Most of the time, he felt like a fly caught in sap, slowly drowning while watching the world pass around him. Then a brief spell of clarity would hit, and he would rise into himself for a few minutes before getting sucked back down.

He was snapped out of his stupor for a little while at dinner the first night, when he saw Avis and Maida sitting silently at the table with downcast eyes. He set his food down and slid into his usual seat. Avis looked up at him, a flicker of hope dashing across her face. “Do you know where Delaney is?” Shaking his head, he shifted so he was sitting sideways and opened his arms. Maida ran around the table and flung herself in his lap, and he wrapped one arm around her and tucked her into his chest. Avis followed more slowly and stopped before reaching him. Crossing her arms, she glared at him suspiciously. “Men came. Men I didn’t know came and asked about her, and then she didn’t come home.”

Aedion closed his eyes for a second to hide the guilt. He hadn’t even considered what sending Delaney away would do to her sisters, his only thought had been to get her to safety. “I don’t know where she is, honey,” he replied carefully. “I do know that she’s smart, too smart to get in trouble. So if I had to bet, I’d bet that she’s somewhere safe.” Avis stepped closer to his extended arm, and he encircled her and pulled her in so she could lean on him. “Delaney would never leave you two without a good reason, you know that.” Both girls nodded solemnly. “So let’s trust her. Let’s trust that she’s doing the smart thing and that she’ll see you again when she can.” With a gentle squeeze, he released the girls and they returned to their places just as Raedan joined them. He was looking at Aedion with an odd blend of sadness and pleasure, but he turned almost immediately to claim Maida’s attention. Aedion began eating mechanically, and all around him the buzzing darkness rose again.

Over the next week the moments of clarity slowly increased. The only predictable triggers were the daily sessions with the other recruits, and the meals he shared with Delaney’s sisters. At other times he would suddenly feel as if he’d been shoved out from a dark closet into the sun. It happened once when a robin flew down and picked a few crumbs from near his feet while he was standing guard. It happened again when he walked by the laundry and the smell of steam and soap wafted out at him. Another time it was a bawdy joke Cobden was telling Raedan, and he startled himself - and both of them - with his laugh.

He was standing on guard at the gate when the fog truly began to lift. Nothing was happening; the usual movements through to and from the market in the town nearby were all finished for the day. The sun was sinking low in the sky, and as he played with his dagger, the spinning blade kept catching the light. The resulting flashes looked like flickering flame and suddenly his vision of following flame out of the river returned. He wished he hadn’t followed it, that he had just let the icy water drag him to oblivion. The dagger’s movements caught the light again, and he thought idly about what would happen if he drew that honed blade across his wrist. If he shifted the grip in his hand and plunged it through his ribs. It would be easy enough; he knew the perfect spot. Would he be able to be with them again, with Rhoe and Evalin, Quinn, his mother? With Aelin…but Aelin hadn’t been with them. He twirled the dagger again, flipping it through his fingers, the temptation to turn it on himself slowly subsiding.

The gate opened and his replacement, a young man who had just graduated to a full soldier, stepped out. “Oh, Ashryver, Corporal Taber wanted me to tell you to join him in his office, an hour before dinner.” Aedion stiffened automatically, clenching his jaw tight enough that his ears popped. The disconcerted man took a small step back away from him, and he realized he was still clenching his dagger. Striving to soften his expression, he sheathed it and nodded, then gave his report and left.

Half an hour later, he was standing at the end of the line of small buildings, staring down the gravel strip that divided them from the main buildings of the camp. There was nobody else in the area. Bile rose in his throat as he looked at the lighted windows of the middle cabin. He trusted Taber after their week’s acquaintance; but he didn’t trust that Taber was the one who sent the request. His thumb automatically rubbed over the crescent scar on his palm, the movement slightly disturbing the splint bindings on his fingers. There was a slight crunch of feet behind him, and he turned to see Litton walking towards him. He liked Litton; had liked him the little he’d known him before all this, and his respect for the man had grown as they had debated and joked in the group discussions with Taber.

Litton nodded to him. “Ashryver.”

“Litton,” Aedion replied, swallowing down his nausea.

“Looks like it’s you and me, then.” Aedion looked at him quizzically, and he explained. “The officers are leaving tomorrow, so they’re making their selection. Since they asked us here, I’m assuming they’re choosing us.” He grinned, but his eyes were serious. “You ready to be a lieutenant in the Adarlan army?”

Somehow, that this was the reason for the summons had never occurred to him. He straightened, a light flaring in his turquoise eyes. “I was born ready.”

Litton laughed. “Then let’s go claim our birthright, shall we?”

*****

Taber studied the scene before him. Major Sanburne had settled in the chair behind the desk, flanked by himself and Malins, Ashryver and Litton standing opposite. Litton looked calm, proud, certain of his advancement. The prince, on the other hand, had entered the small room looking positively sick. For a long moment he had fixated on a spot on the floor before dragging his eyes to Sanburne and bowing, an expressionless mask falling over his features. The only indication now that he was not the epitome of composure now was the thumb of his left hand rubbing over his palm repeatedly.

Sanburne began with a nod of acknowledgement to Litton. “Almire Litton,” he began in his dry voice, “as a result of the way you have acquitted yourself both on the battlefield and in training, you have been nominated to advance to the position of Lieutenant.” He continued on through the recitation of the standard language of advancement and Taber glanced to Malins. The man’s black eyes were fixed on Aedion, a smug smirk on his lips. The boy seemed oblivious but there was a slight flush on his neck and that thumb had not stopped moving. “Do you hereby accept the commission of Lieutenant in the King’s army?”

“I accept,” Litton said, voice quavering with emotion.

“Aedion Ashryver,” Sanburne said, shifting slightly to face the boy, who met his eyes dispassionately. “You have also faced battle and by all accounts fought bravely. Since your absorption into the Adarlan army, you have proven yourself an outstanding fighter…” As the major droned on, Taber mulled over the choice of language. Aedion was a first, as far as he knew; not native-born, not a volunteer or nominated by his family. Raised to lead the armies of Terrasen, and now fighting his way towards the top in Terrasen’s conquerer. “Do you herby accept the commission of Lieutenant in the King’s army?”

“It will be my honor to accept,” Ashryver answered, with a formal bow.

Sanburne nodded, pleased, and turned the two papers over to be signed by the men. “You will be expected to report to General Paget in six weeks. Litton, I understand you have family nearby.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I suggest you spend some time with them before heading north. It may be some time before you see them again.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Asryver, as you have no family on this continent, Major Farrers has offered to have you join his men and spend the next few weeks getting familiar with the workings of the officers in Adarlan. You are to report to him after dinner.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you for the opportunity, sir.”

“And in the meantime, why don’t you head to the stables and select your horses.” Aedion’s mask briefly slipped, and Taber nearly smiled at the surprised pleasure that flashed before it returned. “Yes, son,” Sanburne said, having caught it as well. “All officers are assigned a horse. I had heard you had a fondness for them.”

“Yes, sir. I spend much of my childhood on horseback, sir.”

“Then off you go. I look forward to working with you both in the future.”

The new lieutenants both bowed and then strode out of the office. Sanburne rose and with a nod to the two corporals followed them out, no doubt eager to grab his usual snifter of liquor before dinner. Taber turned to Malins.

“Say, what did you talk about in that meeting with Ashryver the other night?”

Malins’ startled look at the question was quickly replaced by one of boredom. “Oh, I just made sure he understood the importance of the chain of command.”

“I wasn’t aware the boy had an issue with that. What exactly did you do to ensure that?”

The black eyes flashed, but the man’s tone was neutral. “Only what was necessary.” He turned on his heel then and left the office.

Taber went around the desk to see if he could figure out what Aedion had been looking at. There was a ring set in the floor, a twin to it near the wall. Looking back at the desk, he saw a dull spot in some of the carving along the edges; closer inspection showed some specks of the dull reddish brown of blood. He stared out the door where Malins had disappeared, shaking his head in sorrow.

*****

Delaney was startled out of her sleep by a female voice like a knife. “Well, well, what have we here?” She sat bolt upright on the musty bed, staring around her in terror, to see a tall woman in the shadows near the cottage door. After a week of snatching a few hours of sleep in hollows on the frosty ground, this abandoned cottage had seemed like a blessing from the gods. She should have known there was no such thing.

“I - I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I thought nobody lived here, and I needed a place to sleep.”

“Indeed.” The woman prowled closer, the sunlight streaming through the window alighting on her long golden hair. As her face was illuminated, Delaney’s jaw dropped - with her alabaster skin, large black eyes flecked with gold, and perfect features she was beautiful in a way that belonged to another world. “And why are you out here all alone, a little delicate thing like you?”

Lowering her eyes, Delaney began the tale of woe she had been perfecting. “My father died last year. My mother sold me in marriage, and my husband…” She twisted her hands together. “He is not a good man. I fled two weeks ago after he threatened to beat me.”

She looked up to see the woman directly in front of her, though she had not heard her moving. “And where are you running to?”

“I - I have kin in Orynth. I’ve never met them, but -“ A long white hand shot out and wrapped around her throat.

“Liar,” the woman hissed, and Delaney felt the sharp prick of nails in the sides of her neck. With a small click, iron teeth dropped down over the perfect white ones, and all thoughts emptied out of her head except one word: Witch.

“Do you want to try again?” the woman crooned. “Or do you want to make up another story, so I can have even more reason to spill your guts?”

She fought to retain control over her bodily functions as sheer terror caused her heart to race and her bladder to clench. Swallowing with difficulty, Delaney whispered, “I was raised in the war camps, I know nothing else. But then they took my friend. They took him…” her breathing, already restricted, hitched as she fought not to sob. “He made it so I could escape, and he told me to head to Orynth.”

The pain in her neck lessened slightly and the woman cocked her head, the movement purely feline. “What do you mean, they took your friend?”

Tears escaped then, coursing hot down her cheeks. “They…they tortured him. They were breaking him, and he told me to leave, and I fled. I don’t even know if he still lives.”

The woman considered her words, tapping her iron teeth with the iron nails on her free hand. “And why,” she drawled, dragging out the sound, “would they torture your friend?”

Delaney snorted without humor. “Because he was strong,” she answered, her voice regaining volume. “He was stronger than them, and that is the way of men.”

The gold-flecked eyes looked into hers for a long moment, and abruptly Delaney found herself released. “So it is, young one.” Delaney sank to the ground, her legs unable to hold her. The witch studied her, no warmth on her face, just cool calculation. “This friend of yours, was he your lover?”

“No.” The witch waited. “No, he was more like…my adopted brother.”

The woman looked her up and down, taking in her stained clothes, her wan face, her shaking hands. “When did you last eat, child?”

“Umm.” She thought. “I had some eggs yesterday.” The food, though rationed carefully, had run out a few days ago, and it was too early in the year for there to be much edible in the woods or on the farms. She’d raided a few henhouses for eggs that she’d sucked down raw straight from the shell. Even grain left for livestock was beginning to look appealing.

“Wait here,” the woman said, and disappeared through the open door. She returned shortly with a satchel of her own, and began pulling out several loaves of bread, rounds of cheese, and apples and setting them on the rickety table. “Eat,” she told Delaney, “then get more rest. I’ll be back later.” Before Delaney could gather her thoughts, the beautiful woman - witch - was gone.

Dragging herself to her feet, she stumbled over to the table and grabbed a loaf of bread. Tearing off a hunk, she crammed it in her mouth, swallowing almost without chewing in desperation for something to fill that angry hollow in her stomach. Several more mouthfuls followed, then she made herself stop so it wouldn’t all just come back up. She sat back on the bed and sipped some water and tried to think. Stories of the witches had been told around camp, hushed whispers designed to keep children awake at night. Beautiful, immortal beings who bedded men only to bleed them out, getting more pleasure from the blood than the bedding. Who ate children unfortunate enough to stumble across them. Delaney was hardly a child but she was no less vulnerable. She wondered if the stories were wrong, or if this witch was just different.

Once she was sure the food had settled, she ate the rest of the loaf of bread, some of the cheese, and an apple. Sitting back on the bed, she thought of Aedion, of Maida and Avis, of Raedan. She hadn’t allowed herself that luxury the past couple of days when the effort of keeping on her feet took all her energy. Her sisters’ bright smiles, Aedion teasing them, Raedan always checking in on them all made her lips twitch into a small smile of her own. Then images of Aedion flashed across her brain, of him bound and bleeding on that table; of him whispering his cousin’s name with pain dulling his eyes; of him laid out gray and cold, eyes staring sightlessly at the sky. She scrubbed at her face with her hands, trying to drive the thoughts out, only to see pictures of Avis sobbing under a soldier, Maida wasting away with scabs on her lips, Raedan falling with an arrow in his chest. Curling into a ball, she wept for her family until eventually sleep dragged her under.

*****

Aedion struggled to keep his pace limited to Litton’s as they headed over to the stables. His own horse…he hadn’t had that luxury in two years. He all but burst through the door, heading straight to Sparrow’s stall to earn a pinned-eared glare. Litton stood in the aisle looking a little bit lost.

“Hey, boy,” called the stable master, Darel, from down the aisle. “Where’ve you been this past week? Half these horses are kicking down the stalls and I’m running the boys ragged trying to get them all ridden.”

Aedion grinned as he turned to him, holding up his splinted hand. “Hard for me to do too much with this.”

“Oh, aye, I heard about that. Still don’t know how you let that old bastard do that, no doubt your mind was on your cock and your lady friend instead of your job.”

Litton swelled with indignation. “You are addressing a lieutenant in the King’s army.”

Aedion just laughed as Darel turned a baleful eye to the other man, then looked back to him. “So they picked you, eh? Ah, well, they’d be fools not to. I suppose you’re here to pick out your horse, then?”

Litton replied in the affirmative, and Darel pointed down the aisle. “There’s some available ones at the end, go down and take your pick.” Aedion gazed wistfully at Sparrow. “Nah, you can’t have your old bitch-mare, but i got half a dozen new ones for you to look over. Even grabbed a couple mares since I know you like the ladies.” He followed Litton and Darel to the end of the barn, where several curious faces popped over their stall doors to see who had come to visit them. Litton immediately headed to the large black stallion in the farthest stall, while Aedion spent a few minutes looking each horse over carefully. He came back to the first horse, a tall, narrow seal brown mare with a white spot on her forehead, and offered her his empty palm to sniff. She lipped at it and then gave him a disappointed look and he chuckled.

Darel gave a broad smile that showed several missing teeth. “That’s the one I picked out for you, son,” he said, sounding pleased. “She’s the best-bred one of the lot, her great-granddaddy was full Asterion. Got a great bargain on her at the sales.”

“Why?” Aedion asked cautiously.

The older man rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, ah, she’s a bit green is all.”

“How green?” He didn’t mind a green horse too much, having ridden quite a few over the past eighteen months, but he’d rather not have to fight one every second to stay in the saddle.

“Well, she knows how to steer pretty good. And on a good day she’ll even stop.”

Aedion laughed and the mare pricked her ears at the sound. He rubbed small circles over the white spot on her forehead until she half-closed her eyes. “Well, that’s fine, worst case scenario I can just leap off when we get there.” Darel’s toothless grin grew. “You don’t think she’s too slight for me though, do you? I’m not going to get any smaller with time.”

“Aye, but neither is she. You just both need a bit more muscle. Speaking of which, you best go get your nose in a feed bag, son, you look half-starved.” The old man left him then with a hearty slap on the back.

Litton stepped closer as soon as the stable master was out of earshot. “You shouldn’t let him disrespect you that way.”

Aedion shrugged. “He didn’t mean any harm, it’s just his way. If he didn’t respect me he’d bow to my face and then mock me behind my back.”

The other man shook his head. “I can see you know him pretty well, but even so, you’re an officer now. These men need to have a little fear in order to follow you.”

Aedion pursed his lips, debating with himself for a moment before asking, “Who’s your father? Where did you grow up?”

He looked a little confused at the non sequitur, but replied, “I’m the second son of Lord Litton of Pernel.”

Aedion nodded. “I’m guessing you’ve never spent much time with ordinary people except as part of your assigned work here?” Litton shrugged, and Aedion went on. “It’ll be easy to get people to fear you, you’re the son of a lord and an officer of the King. You could slaughter them all with no repercussions. But if you can get them to love you, then they’ll jump in front of a sword to save you, and that’s everything.” Litton still looked skeptical. “Look, I can kill Darel with my bare hands, and we both know it. But I don’t make him feel it. I joke around with him, and do my work and help out where I can, I treat him like he matters. Because he does. His life is worth as much as mine. And that’s why,” he said, grinning, “he went to the sale and got me this horse.” He laid a hand on the glossy black-brown neck. “This mare is worth more than the other five he bought put together, green or no, and he bought her for me. Not even knowing yet that I’d make lieutenant. Understand?”

Litton studied him, a peculiar expression on his face. “You’re an interesting man, Lieutenant Ashryver.” He clapped Aedion on the shoulder, gave the mare a long look, then turned and walked away.

*****

The golden-haired woman shook Delaney roughly awake. “Come with me,” she said, and she turned on her heel and stalked out the door. Delaney rubbed the sleep from her eyes and followed her into the dusk. A small, sorry-looking horse stood there with loaded saddle bags. She blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating or still dreaming.

“What…” she didn’t know what to ask, what to say.

“You’ll never get to Orynth the rate you’re going,” the woman said. “This will help you. There’s some food and clothes in the saddle bags, and a few other things. Ride until you get to the next inn, then stop there for the night. Make sure you go through all your things carefully. With the horse you should be able to stick to the roads and make better time. If they’re looking for you, they’ll be looking for a girl on foot.”

The ready tears started up again. “But why?” She turned to the beautiful woman in honest bafflement. “Why are you helping me?”

The woman rubbed her pale hand over her abdomen and looked off to the south, towards the camp. “Because somebody down there thinks you’re worth sacrificing their life for. No reason for that to be in vain. Now, go quick.”

Delaney mounted awkwardly, being no horsewoman, and turned the nag up the overgrown drive that led to the main road. As they headed away, she turned in the saddle to look back at the woman who stood watching, one hand still resting on her abdomen, an inscrutable expression on that stunning, wild face. Delaney raised a hand in farewell, and with a slight nod the woman disappeared into the gloom. Turning back to the road, she kicked the horse into a bouncy trot and headed north, the vast stars arching overhead urging her onward.

#aedion #aedion ashryver #prequel #my writing #tog #throne of glass

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yoolee · 7 years

Text

SLBP KAI REINCARNATIONS (with a Yukimura x MC pairing)

Shingen & Kansuke

Shingen remembers first. He’s in the military, and there’s a moment, when he’s leading his men (and women!) that he just knows. It’s as natural and comfortable as putting on a favorite piece of clothing – the transition between not remembering and carrying all of the memories is effortless.

(Not without some pain over things left undone and promises unkept, but, effortless)

First thing he does is start seeking out the others. Kai was always, ever Kai because of the people who were a part of it, and Shingen was who he was because of the people who surrounded him, he has as much a duty to them in this life as the last.

Kansuke is next! Medical researcher, life has always felt a bit…lacking, like he moves through a fog.

Fog finally, finally lifts when Shingen walks into his lab, grinning.

Mr Emotionless DEFINITELY CRIES bet me on this

Anyway, Shingen finishes his service and starts a business, because there are new ways to lead, and this offers him a better opportunity to get out and about and find everyone.

Yukimura

Like most of the fandom I am 100% onboard with professional athlete!Yukimura

Also possibly went into military after high school, because—not that he isn’t smart, he just has too much energy to sit in lectures and would rather do.

But then, A SPORT, of some kind (I saw judo as a recommendation, yes, good) and like, probably an Olympian because bringing HONOR and GLORY to his country is super Yukimura

Anyway Shingen sponsors him

And, Yukimura doesn’t remember just yet.

Shingen is quietly okay with that – Yukimura wouldn’t be Yukimura if he weren’t a little bit slow ^^;;

But really a big part of it is that he’s very much an in-the-moment person and he always has been, so while other characters grapple with a kind of ‘something is missing’ he just charges on ahead instead of lingering.

Saizo & Sasuke & MC

Saizo hasn’t always remembered, but has always known, to some extent.

Knowing makes him pay attention to things, so he’s paying attention when a screaming bundle is tossed into his arms and that’s how he knows the kid’s name is Sasuke.

Sasuke grows up remembering. Having a sort of double-set of memories is completely normal for him because it’s what he’s always known. He doesn’t talk about it much because he learns pretty early that it makes him different from other kids, who don’t have the same understanding of war and battle and loss that he does.

(But that means they also don’t have the same understanding of brotherhood, and heart, and strength)

Saizo remembers when he finds MC

But like, Saizo is literally the biggest MCxYukimura shipper out there and it’s just not right to reveal himself before Yukimura can

So he just keeps an eye out, to make sure she’s okay and well for when Yukimura shows up.

This includes sabotaging literally every single person who expresses a vague interest in her, because no, she is supposed to be with Yukimura thank you very much.

(He is not worried about Yukimura ending up with someone else – he is pretty confident that regardless of how many lifetimes he has lived since their shared one that in none of them did Yukimura learn to talk to a woman well enough to land a girlfriend - or boyfriend, or anything requiring romance in general)

Anyway, yes, sabotaging love interests becomes like a part time hobby (what is his real job the world will never know, all anyone knows is he always seems to have the cash he needs and a lot of free time)

(Mysteriously, every year during Sasuke’s Career Day at school there is some kind of incident before it’s Saizo’s turn – fire alarms, freak storms, mass food poisoning, bathrooms flooding, a swarming flock of crows in the gym…Sasuke stops asking him to come)

ANYWAY yes, sabotage – which he remembers, with relish, but with a few new modern skills to add to the mix. Phone calls with unfortunate test results, emails that look like they come from people who didn’t send them, photoshop, social engineering to get Instagram passwords, just generally being sneaky enough to get close and steal wallets during date night dinners, etc. etc.

Sasuke, who remembers too, and is incensed that MC would be on a date with someone who isn’t Lord Yukimura, definitely gets in on this too; at least once he plays the part of neglected love child with a particularly stubborn suitor.

Reunion

Eventually, REUNION. YAY.

All of Yukimura’s teammates are like o.o;;

Saizo’s sabotage habits die hard – if one of them goes to approach MC, they’re going to trip. You know. Accidentally.

MC definitely figures out what he’s been doing but can never ACTUALLY figure out how or the full extent

Yukimura definitely sobs when he sees Shingen next. He’s so sorry he didn’t remember sooner.

Shingen is like, nah, it’s all good, just because my face isn’t pretty enough to jog your noggin

“NO MILORD YOUR FACE IS BEAUTIFUL”

(The following is @han-pan’s fault <3)

(this of course happens full volume in the middle of filming a sports drink commercial that Takeda Corp is sponsoring)

(Advertisers are like “...well we were gonna go the guy-flirts-with-a-pretty-girl-route for this slot, but he isn’t very good at it and maybe this is why HEY SHINGEN you wanna be in this commercial too”)

(And he’s down for whatever so sure, hey Yukimura, remember how I used to try and teach you things like this--*click click* camera shutters)

(And that’s how the sports drink craze swept the nation because have you seen those billboards omggg)

(MC is just like, “wow you both look so muscle-y”)

(Saizo is like “...did you at least get free samples?”)

Future State

You know that like, no matter where Yukimura/MC live and no matter what the premium on space is, there is always, always a bedroom for Saizo (and by extension, Sasuke)

(Yes he and Sasuke have their own place too)

(But Saizo is a cat, okay. He comes, basks in their sunny little patch for awhile, and then is like ‘yeah okay you two are too saccharine, I’m out’ and he’s gone for a week or three.)

“Hey mom hey dad, why does uncle Saizo he get that room?” “It has the best roof access.” “…we live on the 14th floor of 23…?”

Eventually the kids don’t question it either

Unless it’s to summon him, because you know he just happens to show up any time they ask questions that Yukimura and MC would struggle to answer

Sasuke babysits all the time

Okay but also please imagine, years down the road, Yukimura being concerned that Saizo hasn’t given late-teenage Sasuke Enough Information about Things in Life, and he’s stuttering and blushing and stumbling trying to express this (and Saizo is like, little lord, you have four kids, shouldn’t you maybe not be embarrassed by this still) and meanwhile Sasuke pokes his head in like ‘yeah no don’t worry I read all of Sensei’s guides, I know what I’m doing’ and everyone is HORRIFIED (even Saizo. A little. But also a little proud, probably).

AND FOR @quincette

Echigo

Fashion mogul Kenshin is not a fan of Corporate Meetings they are full of fuddy-duddies and they are dreadfully dull

So he is staring out the window (OF COURSE)

And look they are putting up a new billboard

AND ~GASP~ WHAT IS THIS

IT IS HIS FLUFFY TIGER (and Yukimura, BUT)

And Ooooh he wants to pose in a pretty billboard photoshoot tooooo

Kanetsugu is like wait--what? No, no where are you going get back here WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MEETING

But of course everyone dutifully follows him out and Kanetsugu is out of luck

Kageie is like 100% willing to pose in this because why not

Yoshichi is SO EXCITED like YEAH let’s DO this photoshoot

Kagetsugu is trying to Not Draw Attention because he knows exactly how pretty he is, thanks, and doesn’t really like playing dress up, which invariably happens when you work for a clothing company and have his pretty face and features, thanks.

(MC is there catering, makes small talk with Kagetsugu and he gets all embarrassed and blushy when she just assumes he’s one of the models)

Hotaru is just wandering around the photoshoot, playing with things he finds, eventually ends up in the rafters playing with the umbrella lighting

He probably accidentally(?) releases the rain curtain in the middle of the shoot because he’s just playing with stuff

So now you have a lovely, rain-soaked Kagieie and Kenshin billboard advertisement for his clothes

(Kanetsugu wonders why it’s so effective - what about wet clothes is really so appealing? Has no one ever had wet socks around here?)

But, of course, it drives sales up like woah.

ANYWAY so begins the Great Billboard Wars of 2017

Also including behind the scenes video adverts, a few magazine spreads, etc & so forth

(Which ultimately culminates in a Shingen+Kenshin photoshoot that sends both of their company stock shares through the roof)

(Also causes a sharp and immediate uptick in hospitalizations due to fainting and blood loss across the country)

(Kanetsugu is just like *sigh* we are a clothing company, this was a clothing ad did you two forget the clothes?)

(It’s probably an underwear ad. Kenshin “Always figured you of more of a boxers man,” Shingen: “Well actually I usually just go com--” Kansuke: “Harunobu, no.”

I live for fluffy reincarnation AUs. Happy families. Happy families everywhere.

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)

#slbp #slbp modern au #slbp modern headcanon #slbp headcanons #slbp kai #rambles

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curtolson · 5 years

Text

Why I am a former Republican

The Christianity Today editorial by Mark Galli has stirred up folks amid Big Evangelicalism--the Christian leaders often connected to the President. No matter if it is Franklin Graham, Tony Perkins, Richard Land, JFJr., Robert Jeffress, Eric Metaxas, or others, each makes the mistake of contending we have just two choices--the standard R or D--in any election for POTUS.

None of them, that I have seen, have responded to John Piper, who said the following the Sunday before election 2016:

“The right to vote in America is not a binding duty (without regard to other factors) for Christians in every election.

“’The children are free.’ ” We are free from human institutions. As citizens of heaven, we are not bound in every situation to participate in the processes of human government. This is not our homeland. We vote — if we vote — because the Lord of our homeland commissions us to vote. And he does not absolutize this act above all other considerations of Christian witness.

“In this election, with the flagrant wickedness of both party candidates, the logic that moves from “Be subject for the Lord’s sake to every human institution” (1 Peter 2:13) to the necessity — the binding duty — of voting, has lost sight of three things:

--the radical meaning of the words, “for the Lord’s sake,” and how it relativizes all human authority and how it brings to bear many other considerations;

--the radical freedom of the children of God from the inherent authority of human institutions like government; and

--the aim of every citizen of heaven in all human engagements to display our allegiance to the values of another world.

“I am not saying we are bound not to vote. I am saying that the children of God are free to hear the voice of their Master about how to best witness to his supremacy. . . .”

I turned 18 in the latter part of the Reagan Administration: 1986. My first Presidential election was 1988. I had voted for the Republican nominee each time. And yes, there were times I believed I had to settle for "the lesser of two evils" because, after all, isn't that how Christians are conditioned to accept political reality? A seat at the table. Get whatever influence you can. Always engage in the left-wing-right-wing banter. Any fighting is winning. I subscribed to all of it.

Sometime after election 2012, I began critically examining what the GOP had been feeding me for nearly 30 years as a voter. The GOP tells Christians they are the party of a strong national defense, lower taxes, expanding liberty, strong families, and the party that would bring the federal leviathan under control, not to mention judicial appointments that will stand for the rule of law.. And this is where they also promote themselves as being pro-life.

"You can trust us," we are repeatedly told.

Unfortunately, their rhetoric and actions are too often polar opposites. "Talk is cheap," as the saying goes. We see several things happening over time, but they accelerated after the Sept. 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.

Prior to 9-11-01, we had former President George HW Bush get crushed politically by his failure to follow through on a tax cut. Remember, "Read my lips. No new taxes"? We also had Reagan high court appointees Sandra Day O'Connor and Anthony Kennedy relish in their swing-vote roles, frequently acting activist, not defending the Constitution's plain simple language. Kennedy emerged as a nominee after Robert Bork's character assassination by the late U.S. Sen. Ted Kennedy.

When the GOP emerged with the Contract for America in 1994, it seemed as if Republicans genuinely cared that their word was their bond. It did not last, however. After the terrorist attacks in NYC and DC, we witnessed genuine assaults on liberty and freedom, and it is accelerating.

The following are just a partial list of the grievances I have with the GOP, which compelled me to become a former Republican (I will never be a Democrat.) within the past 5 years:

During the Bush 43 administration (I voted for him in 2000 and 2004), the GOP passed Medicare Part D, which launched the feds further into healthcare policy. The government doesn't do much very well, let alone thinking it's smart and benevolent enough to regulate medicine and healthcare for seniors. The Bush 43 administration also gave us No Child Left Behind, which was the federal government sticking its nose further and further into education policy. The more the feds mandate, the less power that exists for local school boards and parents. Republicans should know this, but they "had to do something."

The Patriot Act that emerged from the Bush 43 administration following the terrorist attacks has been one of the most significant assaults on liberty and an ability to live without the government intruding on American citizens. It could very well be the most tyrannical piece of legislation passed in American history. It has been tweaked here and there, but nearly two decades later it has survived as the NSA and other federal agencies monitor the phone calls and emails of Americans, complete with the assistance of corporate America. The passage and reauthorization of The Patriot Act (there are some in Congress who consistently vote against its reauthorization) is perhaps the clearest sign the GOP has no problem with tyranny triumphing over liberty and freedom. It is inexcusable. And just because the government hasn't called me in for questioning doesn't make it right or just.

Nation building--The wars in Afghanistan and Iraq compelled us to eventually engage in nation building, which is not the role or function of the US military. We have spent trillions of dollars in both nations. A recent Washington Post investigative piece revealed billions--or perhaps more--of American dollars lost on corruption in Afghanistan and political promises from three administrations--Bush 43, Obama, and Trump (notice that wonderful bipartisanship)--that was just hot air. I was initially in favor of both wars. As time has passed I have come to a hard conclusion: no amount of force can compel folks to prefer freedom and self-government if they have no idea what it will mean to sustain it. I believe freedom and self-government require a knowledge and acceptance of spiritual truth because our founders warned us that to keep the system we had would require people living by biblical principles. We are imposing this on Muslims, who do not believe the Bible. As much as I was moved by women voting in both countries, Islam will not allow freedom and self-government to be sustained. PS. I am not a neocon and do not believe we should be finding places to engage in warfare. Many neocons have their sights set on Iran. That would be a disaster. PSS I do believe the US should be actively engaged in defending persecuted religious minorities and insisting other countries protect those folks. Religious freedom either is a priority or it isn't. This s determined by actions, not rhetoric.

Department of Homeland Security--A new federal agency behemoth--DHS--surfaced as an expansion of the federal government after the terrorist attacks. Again, Republicans had no problem expanding government.

National Debt--The National Debt, which is now $23 trillion and climbing, has been doubling every 10 years since Bush 43. Note that we grew government (DHS) and funded two wars on a credit card. And of course President Obama grew government with ObamaCare. When is Big Evangelicalism (I remember JFJr. said Trump was needed to get the debt under control. Trump is spending like Barack Obama.) going to start treating the national debt like the moral issue that it is? We are stealing from future generations of Americans. Worse, the more both parties kick the can down the road, the options they will have when something is forced upon them will be extremely limited. And this doesn't account for all of the unfunded liabilities, which some estimate to be . . . $122 trillion. This. Is. Not. Sustainable.

Lack of transparency in budgeting and legislation--The leadership of both parties love to use Omnibus spending bills just before the Christmas recess to justify the crafting of bills behind closed doors, with little, if any, ability to amend these bills. Additionally, there's no ability for any member of the House or Senate to read the details of these spending bills that typically arrive in a late afternoon and they have less than 24 hours to read over 2,000 pages. Th Rs and Ds actually expect members of the House and Senate to just line up and vote and not consider the details of which they vote. It's tyrannical. The spending of money this way ensures no accountability. Taxpayers learn about the stupid ideas later. Why can't they have an honest debate and siphon the garbage out of these bills? That makes too much sense.

Planned Parenthood/Abortion--There has been more rhetoric from the Republican party attached to this issue and the premier organization promoting infanticide than any other issue. The dirty little secret is most of the "changes" coming from DC surface as executive orders that a Democrat will change with the stroke of a pen. Kermit Gosnell commits his crimes in PA and there's nothing that surfaces mandating inspections of abortion clinics. PP is caught on film bragging about the harvesting of organs from aborted babies and the GOP does nothing. No prosecution of the guilty. No accountability, Nothing. Yes, PP opted out of Title X funding when the Trump administration changed rule (this was a very good thing). But PP still gets hundreds of millions of dollars off American taxpayers for killing babies. The GOP has threatened de-funding PP multiple times. They never follow through on the threats. They are all bark and no bite.

Former President Obama and others perpetuate the lie that administration was "scandal free." Fast and Furious. The IRS weaponized to go after political opponents of President Obama. The rollout of ObamaCare. Benghazi. All we ever received from Republicans were congressional hearings that allowed members of the House or Senate to play to the cameras of C-SPAN and others This is not accountability. The lack of accountability flourishes all across the three branches of government.

Judges--The Trump administration has now put its stamp on the lower federal courts. This is a good thing. But I would remind everyone who utters the phrases, "But Gorsuch." or "But Kavanaugh." that judges are bound to make a lousy decision. When they do what will happen to the high court argument regarding judicial appointments? Additionally, all of this attention on the courts leaves me wondering is this the new fail safe for losing the White House or Congress? "At least we can rely on the courts." Can we?

I do vote for Republicans at the local and state levels.

I have been challenged by Exodus 18:21 where Jethro instructs Moses on the attributes to seek for judges for the growing Israelite population. There are four requirements: able men who fear God, men of truth, and men who hate dishonest gain. The argument is this is a group of people who were not elected and it automatically ignores women. Really? Are you really going to suggest these four attributes don't apply to the 21st century for Americans seeking character traits of elected officials? How myopic and insulting. Yes, even women can possess these traits.

Christians have been aiding and abetting the dumbing down of the American electoral process. We should, can, and must be better. We owe our allegiance to the King not of this world, yet our rhetoric in America reveals something very, very different.

#christianitytoday #franklin graham #jerry falwell jr.#tony perkins #richard land #eric metaxas #robert jeffress #john piper #republicans #gop

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richonnefics · 7 years

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Magic Carpet Ride (Richonne Date Night)-Carolina-Bleus

Michonne entered her home and was immediately greeted by a familiar tune. She followed the sound down to the den and was met with an even familiar sight. Rick and six-year-old Judith were cuddled together under Judith’s princess blanket, eyes glued to the television as a couple and a magic carpet glided across the screen.

After the song ended, Judith turned to Rick. “Daddy, wouldn’t you love to have a magic carpet? That way we could fly anywhere we wanted.”

“That would be very nice. Where would you want to fly?”

“To the toy store!”

Rick laughed, “Judy, the carpet may fly you anywhere you want but it won’t pay for toys.”

Judith’s eyes widened as she hadn’t taken that detail into account. “I can’t just take them, Daddy. That would be stealing. And then you’d have to take me to jail.”

“We could get Mama to defend you in court,” Rick joked.

“No, Daddy.” Judith shook her head. “Bad people steal and Mama doesn’t work with bad guys. She works with businessmen.”

Same difference to hear your mother tell it, Rick thought with a chuckle.

“I know! You and Mama can fly with me, Daddy. You’ll have fun aaaannnd you can pay for my toys.”

Rick raised a brow at his daughter’s solution. “How thoughtful of you, sweetie.”

“Where would you want to fly, Daddy, if you had a magic carpet? Somewhere far away?” Judith looked a little worried at the prospect.

“Oh, no, baby, I have everything I want right here at home with your mama and you and your brothers.” Rick thought for a moment. “If I had a magic carpet, I’d use it to fly out into the countryside every now and again just to relax and recharge. It would be nice to just float around and not think about much of anything for a while.”

Michonne could only imagine that Rick needed a lot more time to relax and recharge lately. The kids were home for the summer and Rick, thanks to working on a small force, the good graces of his boss, and through calling in favors with his fellow officers, was able to adjust his schedule so he could be home with the kids during the day. Michonne was grateful because her high-powered (and high-pressure) job as a corporate attorney in the city didn’t allow a lot of wiggle room in her work schedule, especially now when she was in the midst of merger negotiations. Without the schedule change, the kids would have had to spend their summer days shuttling between various camps and relatives’ homes. Neither Rick nor Michonne wanted that for their kids’ summer vacation.

While the schedule change was great for the kids, it was proving to be exhausting for Rick. He was essentially pulling double duty. His late-night shifts patrolling their hometown came after a lot of long days keeping an eye on things at home, taking the kids to their summer activities, and fitting in sleep where he could.

A little yawn interrupted Michonne’s thoughts.

“Looks like it time for you to head to bed, sweetheart.”

“But I wanted to finish the movie, Daddy. I can stay awake a little longer,” Judith protested through another yawn.

“Judy, we’ve watched this movie just about every day since school let out.”

“But it’s our favorite movie, Daddy.”

Judith thought of Rick as her best friend who miraculously loved all the same things she did. And Rick was going to enjoy that BFF status for as long as he could.

“You’re absolutely right, sweetie. But it really is time for bed.”

Rick paused the movie and folded Judith’s blanket. He stood and moved in front of Judith with his back facing her.

“Alright. Your magic carpet awaits, Princess.”

The sentence gave Judith a temporary boost of energy and she scrambled up from her seat and stood on the couch. “Squat down some, Daddy. You’re taller with your boots on.” Once her daddy hunched down some, Judith climbed on his back.

“Hold on, tight, sweetie.” Once Judith was secured, Rick turned and saw Michonne standing in the doorway with a huge smile on her face. “Hey, babe! You just getting in?”

“Hey, Mama!” Judith yelled right by Rick’s ear, causing him to wince and Michonne to laugh.

Michonne moved into the room and greeted her husband and daughter with a kiss. “I got in a few minutes ago but you two were so caught up in your movie that I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s our favorite movie, Mama. You want to watch it with us? We can start it over for you,” Judith said through a big yawn.

“Thanks, baby, but you need to get to bed and Daddy needs to get to work. We can watch it later.” Michonne looked at Rick. “You need help tucking her in?”

“Nah. Just get comfortable and I’ll be right back. I’ll tell the boys you’re home.”

“Thanks.” Michonne watched a nearly asleep Judith and her magic carpet make their way up the stairs.

Ten minutes later, Rick returned to find Michonne lounging on the couch and sipping a glass of wine. He chuckled as he sat down beside her.

“You’ve been wanting to do that all day, huh?”

Michonne nodded. “Yep. I’ve wanted to do this and...,” she leaned over to give Rick a slow, deep kiss, “this all day long.”

Rick sat back and hungrily ran his eyes up and down his wife’s body. “Why are you starting something you know I can’t finish? I’m already cutting it close with getting to work on time tonight.”

“The station is literally up the street,” Michonne said as she put her wine on the coffee table and moved closer to her husband.

“Michonne we don’t have time,” Rick protested. “And even if we did, I’m too tired to even move my hips.”

“What about your mouth?”

“Michonne!”

“I’m joking,” Michonne said through laughter. “I’m sorry, but I just love when you get all scandalized and ‘clutch the pearls’ embarrassed like that. You have the same expression your mother did when Andrea showed up at the church for Andre’s baptism wearing a that one- shoulder dress.”

Rick laughed at the memory. “I thought Mama was going to drop Dre into the baptismal fount when she saw Andrea.”

Once their laughter subsided, Michonne laid her head on Rick’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to be late. This merger is getting into the final stages and both sides are getting anxious and a little testy.” She sat up and faced Rick with a sigh. “I’ll be so glad when this is done. You are literally working day and night. I don’t see the kids much and I see you even less.”

Michonne wasn’t exaggerating. By the time she got home at 6:15 (on good days...6:45 on tough ones like today), the kids were already fed and winding down in their rooms for the night. She and Rick tried to spend a little time together before his seven o’clock shift started because they wouldn’t see each other again until after his shift was over ten hours later. Rick usually got home in the mornings around the time Michonne was getting up to get ready for work. While the grueling schedule was taking its toll on both of them, Michonne knew Rick was getting the worst of it.

Rick caressed his wife’s face. “Hey, we’re making it work. You said yourself it won’t be for the entire summer. We make it through the month of June and then Noah will be here to help out the rest of the summer. We’ll be back on a regular schedule soon.”

Michonne’s younger brother, Noah, was currently doing an internship in London for the summer. He was scheduled to return home to Georgia in July. Once Noah was home, he was going to stay with Michonne and Rick and help to take care of the kids for the rest of the summer.

“I know that, Rick, but all the work you’re putting in is—“

“Is what any parent and spouse would do. Come here.” Rick gathered Michonne in his arms. “We’re in this together...always. Yeah, I’m tired...really tired...but so are you. Besides, we’ve dealt with worse than this. Remember that time your parents were having their house renovated and had to stay here for two months...in the room right next door to us? Now that was a trial.”

Michonne pulled back and cut her eyes at Rick. “It couldn’t have been that much of a trial, we still somehow managed to make Judith in the course of those two months.”

Rick smiled at the memory of their creative lovemaking during those two months...until his wife pointedly cleared her throat. “My point is, we can handle anything and come out stronger for it. And this isn’t going to be any different.” Rick glanced at his watch. “Now I really have to go. I left your dinner warming in the oven. And I ran you a bath while I was upstairs. I ran it scalding hot the way you like it, so it should be still be percolatin’ by the time you get up there.”

“Thank you, babe.” Michonne stood from the couch and pulled Rick with her. “Let me walk you to the door. I want to make this moment last as long as possible since it will have to keep me satisfied for the next ten hours.”

The couple walked arm and arm to their front door. Michonne turned to Rick and smoothed her hands over his uniform before looking into his eyes.

“Do you have everything for your shift tonight?” she questioned.

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna stay safe?”

“Yes.”

“Are you gonna come back home to me and the kids in one piece?”

“Yes.”

“Are we gonna be happy forever?”

Rick smiled and leaned down to give Michonne a kiss. “Forever and always.”

“I love you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I love you, too. Lock up behind me and cut on the alarm,” Rick said as he walked out of the house.

Michonne said a quick prayer as she watched Rick pull off in his squad car. She prayed he’d make it safely through another shift and that they’d make it through the grueling month.

And so it went, for weeks Rick and Michonne had the same routine. Rick would come home around 5:30 in the morning just as Michonne was getting ready for her workday. They’d spend a little time together before Michonne left for work. Rick got a few hours of sleep before he had to get the kids up and out the door for their summer activities. Michonne would come home after six in the evening and find Rick and Judith watching “Aladdin.” If she was lucky, she’d arrive home early enough to watch some of the movie with them and engage in the “where would you fly debate.” Judith’s answer changed nightly while Rick’s flight over the countryside answer remained unchanged. They’d do that until Rick said, “Your magic carpet awaits, Princess.” Once Judith was tucked away in bed and the boys had been checked on by their parents, Rick would leave for his shift at seven. Michonne would then eat, take a bath, and fall into a fitful sleep (neither her body nor her mind could quite get accustomed to sleeping at night without Rick). Then daybreak would arrive, Rick would come home, and the cycle started all over again.

It was a struggle to say the least. They didn’t even get to properly celebrate Father’s Day because Michonne was called into the office when the merger hit a snag. But, finally, they made it through. It was the last Friday of the June, the merger was done, and Noah would be taking over childcare duties on Monday.

Rick had just arrived home a half hour earlier after working his final overnight shift. He had the next three days off. Rick and Michonne decided to hold a quick and heated celebration in the shower.

Now relaxed and reclined in bed, Rick watched as Michonne walked around and finished dressing for the day.

“It’d be nice if you could stay home with me today.”

Michonne sighed. “It would be very nice, but you know I can’t. But I do have a surprise that might make you just as happy.”

“I don’t know about that,” Rick said with a shake of his head. “There isn’t too much in this world that makes me happier than spending time with you.”

Michonne walked over and sat by her husband. “You are really trying to get me to call in sick, aren’t you?”

Rick shrugged. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“I know you are but I really can’t stay,” Michonne said regretfully.

“Well, I guess it’ll just be me and the kids today.”

“Actually, it’ll just be you today. That’s the surprise.”

“What?”

“Mama and Daddy are back from their vacation. They’re going to pick up the kids and keep them all weekend. So you don’t have to worry about dropping anyone off or picking them up or breaking up fights or your daily Aladdin viewings with Judith.”

“You arranged that just for me?” Rick asked, pleased.

Michonne nodded. “I figured you needed at least one day of uninterrupted sleep.” She glanced down at her husband’s bare chest. “Then when I get home, we’ll make up for some lost time tonight, sleep in late tomorrow, have belated June date night, and then there will be one more surprise.”

“I know you won’t tell me, so I won’t even bother asking what the other surprise is.”

“Smart man.” Michonne said with a smile. “My parents will be here at nine to pick up the kids. I had them pack last night so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll get Carl and Dre up before I leave. I won’t wake Judy cause you know how cranky she gets this early in the morning.”

“Don’t wake the boys. I’ll get them up before your parents get here.”

“Rick—“

Rick shook his head. “They shouldn’t have to get up this early when I’m here. I’ll sleep a little bit and then get them up and off with your parents.”

“And then you’ll get some rest?”

“And then I’ll get some rest,” Rick promised.

“I know I sound like a broken record but you’ve been running yourself ragged. I need you healthy and here with me for the long haul.”

“Hey, I promised you forever and I meant it.” Rick pulled his wife down for a kiss. “I love you. Now get on out of here before I show you just how much I love you and you end up late.”

Michonne looked at her watch. “I still have a little time before I have to leave for work.”

Rick tilted his head and raised a brow. “That’s not the kind of late I’m talking about.”

Michonne’s eyes widened in shock. “Rick?! That is not like you at all. What happened to you on those overnight shifts?” she asked with a laugh.

“I had to spend ten hours straight with Shane with little to know distractions from his conversation for a month, I guess it rubbed off on me,” Rick said ruefully.

“Well, now I’m very glad you are back on your regular shift.” Michonne gave Rick another kiss before standing up. “Alright, I going to head out. ��I love you. Kiss the kids for me. And I’ll see you tonight.”

“See ya, babe. I love you.”

Saturday Evening

It was 5:30 in the evening and Rick and Michonne were headed to Rick’s promised second surprise. The couple had spent all day together indulging in all of the things they’d missed over the last month...indulging most frequently and enjoyably in each other. Now Michonne was driving Rick to a still undisclosed destination on the outskirts of town.

“Michonne you just said we’re almost there. You can tell me what my surprise is now,” Rick pleaded.

“You can wait five more minutes. You’re as bad as Judith.” Michonne chuckled. “I can’t believe she called last night trying to figure out a way for you two have your regular Aladdin viewing.”

“Truth be told, I kind of missed watching the movie with her last night. I’ve seen it too many times to count at this point, but it was one of the rare times during the whole month when I could just relax and unwind. Plus, I replaced you as Judy’s BFF, so it was a win all the way around.”

“Because this is your day and I love you, I’m going to ignore the second part and just focus on the first.”

Michonne pulled up to a large field and stopped the car. She turned to her husband. “Your movie sessions are about to come to life.”

Rick gave Michonne a confused look as they got out of the car. “I’m afraid I’m not getting the connection.”

“You will. And don’t forget your hat.”

The couple walked deeper into the clearing where several men waited next to what looked like a huge colorful tarp, a basket, and a large fan. Rick immediately put everything together and turned to Michonne with excitement in his eyes.

“Michonne, this is amazing!“

Rick’s excitement was contagious and Michonne couldn’t contain her smile as she explained, “Every night Judith asks where you would go if you had a magic carpet and your answer is always the same. You want to go out into the country and fly over the land and just relax and not have to think about anything...just be. The closest thing I could think of was this.”

Rick hugged his wife. “I can’t believe you arranged for a hot air balloon ride.”

“You deserve that and then some. I know you said you were just doing your duty as a husband and father but I still wanted to show you how much I appreciate all you did during this past month and all that you do for me and the kids every single day.” Michonne held out her hand. “Now, come on. Your magic carpet awaits, Princess.”

After the balloon was inflated (an exciting process in and of itself), Rick, Michonne, and their pilot took off on their journey. Rick was glad Michonne had him bring a hat. It helped protect his head from the heat of the balloon’s burner during takeoff.

The flight itself was better than Rick could have ever imagined. It felt like he was just floating along the countryside. Outside of spending time with his wife and kids, it was the most peaceful he’d felt in a very long time. Their pilot pointed out various sites and wildlife every so often, but mainly he let Rick and Michonne just enjoy the moment with each other. After about an hour, the balloon finally started making its descent into another large field about five miles or so from where they began.

After safely disembarking, Rick and the crew shared a champagne toast (Michonne just had a sip out of Rick’s flute since she was driving). One of the crew members had kindly driven the Grimes’ car over to the field, so the couple said their goodbyes and left for their next destination of the evening.

Rick was still bubbling with excitement. “Michonne, that was amazing! I could have stayed up there forever. Thank you, babe.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

“I loved it! But I think Judith might be a little jealous that I—“

“That you got to be Jasmine for an hour?” Michonne joked.

“Very funny.”

“Judith will be fine,” Michonne continued. “Actually, she’s the one who helped me come up with the idea. She said, and I quote, ‘Daddy deserves his own magic carpet ride because he’s best daddy in the whole wide world’.”

Rick positively beamed over his daughter’s words. “I’m taking her to the toy store to get whatever she wants as soon as she gets home.”

“What about the boys?”

“The boys didn’t arrange for me to get a magic carpet ride so they are on their own,” Rick stated very matter of fact.

“You are wrong for that,” Michonne laughed.

“I’m very much right but, babe,” Rick squinted through the windshield, “aren’t you headed in the wrong direction right now?”

“Nope,” Michonne said with a shake of her head. “I know exactly where I’m going.”

“But we’re headed to Hershel’s farm.”

“I know. And don’t ask why cause I’m not telling.”

Rick shook his head, sat back and enjoyed the sunset. He’d wait to see what else the evening held.

When they finally made it down the long dirt road and pulled up to the Greene Farm, it was brightly lit up against the encroaching twilight. There were cars parked across the yard.

“Did I forget somebody’s birthday or something?” Rick asked as he helped Michonne out of the car.

“Or something,” Michonne replied cryptically.

They walked into the Greene’s recently renovated barn and were immediately greeted by family and friends and swarmed by their kids.

“What are you guys doing here?” Rick asked in shock. “I thought you were in Atlanta with your grandparents.”

Judith spoke up first. “Nope, Grammy and Poppy, stayed with us over at Nana and Granddaddy’s house last night so we could surprise you, Daddy!”

“What?!” Rick turned to his wife for an explanation.

“I felt bad that we never really celebrated Father’s Day properly because I got called into work, so all day and this evening has been a thank you, a date night do-over, and a Daddy’s Day do-over all rolled into one.” Michonne smiled. “Surprise!”

“Happy Daddy’s Day!” their kids yelled.

Rick looked around the place filled with so many of their family and friends and got misty-eyed.

“You really didn’t have to do all of this,” he said in a voice thick with emotion.

Michonne looked at her husband with a tender expression. “I wanted to do this...me and the kids wanted to do this. I know you don’t like to make a big fuss over yourself but we wanted to because you really are the best father and best husband in the world. And you make our lives better just by being in them.”

And with that, the mist turned into a waterfall. Rick gathered Michonne and the kids into a huge hug. When he pulled back, he looked at his children. “I love you guys so much. Tomorrow we’re all going to the mall and you guys can pick out something you really want. I couldn’t be the father that I am without great kids like you.”

After their delighted children ran off to be with their friends and cousins, Michonne turned to Rick with a smirk on her face. “So the boys are back on your good side?” she asked remembering his earlier comment.

Rick tried to look innocent. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Mmhmm, I bet you don’t.” Michonne side-eyed her husband before continuing. “So, the kids get toys and video games. What do I get?”

“What do you want?” Rick asked.

“You,” Michonne stated without hesitation.

Rick stretched his arms wide. “You have me.”

“Forever?”

Rick pulled Michonne into his arms. “Forever and always.”

He sealed his promise with a kiss.

#Richonne Date Night #Richonne #Rendezvous #Richonnefics #carolina-bleus

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